“There are two problems with that,” said Lava. “One, I’m not leaving here without Kalea.”
“You could show me the way out,” Max suggested. “And I could contact the HGA.”
“And two,” Lava continued, ignoring him, “it’s pretty much impossible to get out. This place is locked up tight. Monitors everywhere. Believe me, we’ve looked into it. We know the way up to the mansion up there, of course, but actually getting into it is something else.”
“You mean we’re trapped down here?”
“Basically,” said Lava. “There are a handful of people who come and go, bringing in food and supplies and whatever. But the rest of us are trapped in the hive until they decide to let us out.”
Max didn’t like the sound of this. But, he reminded himself, he was safe for the moment.
Lava stood up. “We should go,” he said.
“Go? Why? Is someone coming?”
“No,” Lava said. “But we’re not doing any good hanging around here. We might as well put that Legacy of yours to use and spy on the Mogs.”
“How?” Max asked. “We can’t just walk around. People will see us.”
“I’ve got that covered,” said Lava, his mischievous grin making another appearance. “This room isn’t the only secret Digby kept from his family.”
CHAPTER FOUR
SAM
SHILO, UTAH
THE SOUND ECHOED IN HIS HEAD—A DULL THUDDING, like the pounding of fists on a far-off door.
Sam couldn’t move. His body was surrounded by sand, imprisoning him in a gritty cocoon that weighed heavily on his chest and kept his arms and legs pinned. Now his face was almost completely covered as well. He gasped, forcing himself to keep his mouth closed so that he wouldn’t choke. But along with the tiny amount of air he breathed in came grains of sand that scoured his nasal passages, leaving them raw. He tasted blood in his throat.
This was how he was going to die.
The pounding came again. And now he also heard a voice, faint and distorted. Someone calling his name. It occurred to him that he might be hallucinating, imagining in his last moments that someone was attempting to save him. Then the voice grew louder, and the pounding increased.
“Sam!”
He held his breath, trying to hear more clearly.
“Sam!”
Somehow, he knew that it was Six, and that she was there. Really there. Not only in his head. He willed himself to calm down and listen.
“Sam! Try to use your Legacy! Tell the machinery to stop!”
He had already tried that. Of course he had. It hadn’t worked. That was before he knew Six was there, though—when he thought he was alone, buried who knew how far underground. But if Six was there, he wasn’t underground, and maybe he had a chance. Maybe he could do it for her.
The sand was up to his nose. He was almost out of time.
He took a final breath before he was completely buried. The sand trickled over the tip of his nose. He clamped his lips shut and waited. He didn’t have long.
As he had before, he concentrated on linking his mind with the machinery around him. And as before, he met a wall of silence. He could feel the various pieces of his prison, the wiring and gears, the chips emitting electronic signals to the heavy metal components that kept him entombed. But they remained just out of reach.
“Sam!”
The thudding increased, and he realized that Six was hitting her hands against the walls of the thing he was trapped in. They were separated by sand and metal. More than anything, he wanted to see her again, to touch her and look into her eyes.
He cried out silently in a frenzy of frustration and rage. And something clicked. Somewhere inside the machinery, something answered him. He had its attention.
He thought quickly, before the connection could be severed. He considered telling the machine to close the pipe delivering sand to the box, but since his face was now covered, that served no useful purpose. Instead, he targeted the locking mechanisms. He didn’t know how the box was constructed, but there had to be some way to open it.
The air in his chest was being used up. He felt a burning sensation begin to spread through him.
A code. That’s what the machine wanted. Numbers. Its language was numbers.
Sam’s head pounded. Numbers rushed around in his brain, a cacophony of digits all fighting to be heard. He needed them to be quiet, to arrange themselves in an orderly fashion. Only one sequence would grant him exit from what was quickly becoming his tomb.
“Sam!”
Six’s voice was growing faint. He felt himself floating away, sinking deeper into the embrace of the sand. All he could do was shut his eyes.
The first number fell into place, startling him awake again. Sam pushed. The machine responded. Sam swam up through the fog surrounding him, bombarding the mechanism with numbers. His heart pounded in his ears. He had no idea if he was accomplishing anything or if this was his last desperate attempt at reaching the surface.
Then he felt it, the sliding of metal rods, the release of tension. Above him, something clicked. He felt the box shudder. There was a grinding, a shifting of weight as the sand around him began to slip.
“Sam!”
Six’s voice was louder, closer. Then he felt movement. The sand was brushed away from his face. He inhaled, and air filled his lungs. He coughed. Opened his eyes, then closed them again as he was blinded by bright light.
Hands were on his cheeks; then a mouth was pressed against his. He opened his eyes again, and this time he saw Six looking down at him.
“I guess you heard me, huh?” Six said.
“It was kind of hard not to, what with all the pounding you were doing,” said Sam as Six helped him sit up. “You interrupted my nap.”
As if remembering something important, Six whirled around. “Damn it,” she muttered.
“Lose something?” Sam asked.
“A Mog,” said Six. “I should have known she’d slip out of here.”
Sam brushed the remaining sand away from his legs. Now that the box he’d been trapped in was opened, the sand it had contained was all over the floor of the room. He looked around. “Where are we?”
“I have no idea,” Six said. “But we need to get out of here. I have a feeling we’re going to have company any second now.”
Sam got off the table. He moved shakily. His body ached all over. “Do we have any weapons? Comms? Anything?”
Six shook her head.
Sam sighed. “Is there any good news?”
“Uh, you’re not in a sand coffin anymore,” said Six.
“Point taken,” Sam said. “So, this Mog. What did she look like?”
“Pink hair,” said Six. “Kind of manic-pixie-girl type.”
“Magdalena.”
“You’ve met?”
“Briefly,” Sam said. “Right before her bigger, meaner friend came along and told me she would hurt Seamus and Nemo if I didn’t cooperate.”
“That would probably be Eleni,” said Six. “She’s a whole lot of fun, isn’t she?” She touched her face where the Mog had hit her.
“I was wondering about the black eye,” Sam said.
“I paid her back,” Six assured him. “A little, anyway. We’ll settle up later, I’m sure.”
“I assume she’s the reason we need to get out of here?”
Six nodded. “One of the reasons.” She paused. “Wait. Did you actually tell her you’d cooperate with her?”
“You’ve seen her,” Sam said. “She’s tough. And she said she had Seamus and Nemo? Was that a lie?”
“I don’t know where any of them are anymore,” Six said. “Although Magdalena said something about Nemo killing another Mog. Which hasn’t improved Eleni’s mood, apparently.”
“Nemo killed a Mog?” Sam said. “Wow. Yeah, I can see how that might piss Eleni off. Any other problems I should know about?”
“Just the parasite,” said Six.
Sam raised an eyebrow.
“Magdalena claims she put parasites in us,” said Six.
“And you believe her?”
Six hesitated a moment before replying. “Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t. I think she’s a little crazy, so she might be making it all up.”
“Okay,” Sam said. “So, there might be parasites in us. Any idea what kind? What they do?”
Six shook her head. “Don’t know what kind, exactly. Supposedly, it attaches to the brain. So I assume some kind of brain-eating one. We didn’t get that far. You know, because you were suffocating and all.”
“I’m starting to think maybe I should have stayed in the box,” Sam said.
“It’ll be fine,” said Six. “But we should probably go.”
“Which brings us back to the question of, where?”
“Again, don’t know exactly,” Six said. “Or even vaguely. Just . . . out.”
Sam went to the control console that ran across one of the walls and began looking at it.
“Do you know what any of that does?” Six asked.
“Not really, no,” Sam replied. “But maybe I can make it work for us anyway.”
He placed his hands on the controls and reached out with his technopathy. It had worked when he needed it before, maybe it would work again. He sensed Six watching him. “No, it’s not back,” he said, answering the unspoken question. “Not totally, anyway.”
“Did I mention that Magdalena said that the parasite would make that problem worse?” said Six.
Sam looked at her. “Can we not talk about the parasite for the next couple of minutes?”
“Sure,” said Six. “I’ll just be quiet now.”
“Thanks,” Sam said, returning to the controls. He had no idea what anything on the panel was for, but electronics were electronics. If he could find some way of sending a message or signal, he was going to try to reach out to Nine, Lexa and anyone else who might be able to help. But first he had to get the equipment to respond to him at all.
“Getting anything?” Six asked after a moment.
“I thought you were going to be quiet,” Sam reminded her. “And no.”
He could tell that Six wanted to leave. But he feared this might be their only chance to try and communicate with people outside wherever it was he and Six currently were. He focused his energy, trying to connect. As before, at first all he heard were a lot of electronic voices, all murmuring to one another and ignoring him. The console was alive with activity, like a beehive or ant colony. Only he was an outsider trying to integrate himself with them, and they weren’t letting him in.
His head hurt, and he thought for a moment about the parasite Six had mentioned. Had the Mog really put something inside of them? It wouldn’t surprise him in the least. The idea that something—some thing—might be living inside of him right now, maybe feeding on him, was horrifying. That it might be adding to the problems he was having with his Legacy made it even more infuriating.
“Sam?” Six said. A note of worry had crept into her voice, and Sam knew it wasn’t because she was anxious to be on the move. She’d noticed something.
“I’m fine,” he said. “I’m trying to hook into the network.”
“If you can’t, it’s okay,” said Six. “We can work on it later.”
“We might not get another chance,” Sam said. “Give me another minute.”
Six nodded, saying nothing. Sam went back to work. He pictured his Legacy as tendrils of golden, glowing light working their way inside the machinery. He pushed deeper, seeking a connection. The strands of light swirled around the innards of the console. And then there was a spark, a momentary flash as Sam linked into the electronic pathways. He felt himself swept into an information stream. His mind filled with data, overwhelming him.
He fought against the wave, which threatened to pull him under. He’d never felt like this when interacting with a machine. Something was different. It was almost as if the console was trying to control him, and not the other way around.
He could feel himself breathing more heavily. His heart was racing. He had to get out before something got in that he didn’t want there. But he hadn’t sent any messages. He forced himself to concentrate, to navigate to the part of the network’s brain responsible for sending out communications. A telephone line. Email. Anything.
He found it, a phone line of some kind. He dredged up the first phone number he could remember, not even sure who it belonged to. Mentally, he composed a text, directing the computer to transmit it. The machine started to respond. Then Sam felt a violent jerk, as if the connection between him and the computer had been severed by an unseen hand yanking a plug from its socket. He stumbled backwards, his hands going to his temples and pressing hard against his head.
Six was there in a moment, holding him up. “What happened?”
Sam shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s like someone sensed what I was doing and kicked me out.”
“Maybe your Legacy just went out again.”
“It wasn’t that,” Sam said. “This was a lot worse.” The pain in his head still lingered, like the effects of an electrical shock. He looked at Six, worried. “Do you think this has anything to do with the parasite?”
“I’m not even sure there is a parasite,” Six said. She sounded confident, but Sam could tell that part of her was thinking the same thing. Then she said, “Were you able to send a message?”
“No,” said Sam. “Whatever happened, it happened right when I was trying to send it. I can try again.”
“No,” Six said, and this time the worry in her voice was palpable.
“Do I look that bad?”
“I don’t want you pushing yourself right now,” Six said. “We’ll figure something out.” She looked around the room.
“Why don’t you seem like you’re in a hurry to get out of here?” Sam asked. “A few minutes ago you said we should hurry up.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Six said. “If anyone was monitoring this room, they would have been here by now, probably with backup. But we’ve been in here alone a good ten minutes and nobody has shown up. Why?”
Sam considered the question. The throbbing in his head was dying down, but it still ached enough to be distracting. He tried to ignore it. “Because Magdalena made sure no one could see what’s happening in here? Because she doesn’t want Eleni to catch us?” he suggested.
“She said as much to me earlier,” Six said. “But why wouldn’t she want us captured?”
Sam thought some more. “She wants to catch us herself?”
“She already had us,” Six said. “Or could have. I assume she could have locked the door somehow and trapped us in here.”
“She doesn’t want Eleni to know she talked to us?”
Six shook her head. “I think it’s because she knows we can’t get out. Or at least thinks we can’t.”
“But the door’s open,” Sam reminded her, pointing.
“Not out of here. Out of this whole place,” said Six.
Now Sam understood. “There’s always a way out. Maybe not an easy way, but there’s always a way.”
Six didn’t respond. She was obviously thinking.
“What?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know,” Six said. “This whole thing feels weird. Like we’re rats in a maze, being tested or something.
“So, what now?” said Sam. “If we’re rats, what’s the endgame? Looking for the cheese? Finding our way out?”
Six shook her head. “Not out,” she said.
“Not out?” Sam repeated.
“If that’s what they want us to do, then no,” said Six. “We do the opposite.”
“We go in?” said Sam.
“Exactly,” Six said. “We find out exactly what this place is and what they’re doing here. Then we worry about out. Besides, we don’t even know where the hell we are.”
“Good point,” said Sam. “So, where do we start?”
Six pointed to the door. “There,” she said.
“Ready?”
“No weapons. Spotty Legacies. Possible brain-eating parasites. No idea where we are or what we’re up against. Sounds like a blast. Sure, I’m ready. But I’ve got to tell you, after being buried alive in a sandbox, I’m not sure it can get any better.”
“That’s the spirit,” Six said, heading for the door.
The hallway was empty, which only added to the eeriness of the situation. Sam wondered how many Mogs and humans were running around in this place, and where they all were.
“Where are we headed?” he asked Six.
“The worst things are always hiding in the basement, right?”
Sam shrugged. “In horror movies, yeah.”
“I figure we’ll go there,” Six said. “Figuratively, anyway. Down. They’ll be expecting us to go up, I think. Maybe it will buy us some time.”
“At least until we run into someone,” said Sam.
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than they heard footsteps. Somebody was running. And whoever it was, they were coming towards Six and Sam. Instinctively, Sam stopped and crouched, watching the end of the hallway, hoping he was ready for whatever came around the corner. Six too had assumed a fighting stance.
A moment later, two figures rounded the corner. When they saw Six and Sam, there was a shout of joy.
“Max?” Sam said.
Max darted forward and gripped Sam in a bear hug. Then he let go and did the same to Six. “You’re here!” he said. “Lava was right.”
“Lava?” said Sam.
The other boy who was with Sam raised a hand. “That would be me,” he said. “Hi.”
“What are you doing here?” Sam asked Max.
“Looking for you,” said Max. “We heard you guys were here.”
“Heard from who?” Six asked.
“That’s a long story,” Max answered. “And we should probably talk about it later. Come on. We have someplace we can go.”
“Wait a second,” Sam said as the others started to move. “I don’t suppose you have a phone?”
Max shook his head. But Lava reached into his pocket. “I do,” he said. “Although it doesn’t do any good way down here. There’s no signal.”
The Legacy Chronicles: Raising Monsters Page 4