The X Factor

by Bella Street

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did you ever hear what they did to me?”

  He gave his head a quick shake. “Why would they tell me? Didn't they tell you?”

  “No.” She looked down. “I guess I thought you would've asked Fenn.”

  “I think Fenn has a lot on his mind right now.”

  She peeked up at him. “Like you have?” Is that why you're avoiding me?

  Gareth compressed his lips. “Seffy, if you want to know what happened, ask your medical staff, get the records, whatever, okay?”

  His tone stung.

  “So, you'll come for the movie tonight?”

  She nodded, distracted. But before he left, Seffy said, “So how's the time-travel research and escape plans going?”

  Gareth looked confused a moment. “Sef, I thought we already covered this.”

  “I...just wondered if you'd had any...breakthroughs.”

  His gaze flattened. “I'll let you know if I do.”

  “Okay.” If? The Gareth she knew wouldn't stand for just waiting on the sidelines. Why was he so content to cool his heels in an abandoned psychiatric wing in the wrong decade? And why did he act all pissy when she questioned him?

  After he left, she frowned at her piece of paper. Why did the others just want to watch movies all the time? Wasn't anyone else worried about their jobs back home? Their families? The awkward fashions of the 80s?

  Another knock sounded on the door. Seffy grunted an invitation. When Trent came in the door, her shoulders slumped.

  “Good morning to you, too,” he said.

  “I don't have the tolerance to deal with you this early.”

  He leaned against the desk. “I just wanted to see how you felt this morning.”

  “Crappy.”

  “I don't doubt it.”

  She looked up at him and sighed. “You need to find someone new to torment.”

  “I disagree with that description of our relationship.”

  “We don't have a relationship.”

  He regarded her with his steady gray eyes. “I also came to see if you wanted me to fix your door.”

  “Oh.” She offered a tight smile. “That'd be great.”

  Trent pushed away from the desk, but before he went to the closet, he snatched her paper from her hand.

  “Hey, give that back!”

  He scanned the list, then sent her a cockeyed smile. “You could solve your last problem by hooking up with me, you know.”

  Seffy yanked the paper from his fingers. “I'm just trying to figure out what's going on in this compound.”

  He held out his hand. “Give me the paper. I want to show you something.”

  “Only if you refrain from snarky remarks.”

  His smirk was answer enough. He took the paper from her hand and grabbed the pencil. Leaning over the desk, he drew a shape on the paper, consisting of a set of concentric circles joined by radiating spokes.

  “What's that?” she asked without much interest.

  “I think I finally figured it out. Originally, I assumed the compound was built like a normal building, you know, in a square or rectangle.”

  Seffy tried to remember her impressions of when she first arrived. “It seemed pretty squarish to me."

  “That's what's so brilliant—it is on the outside. But it's a decoy. Inside it's built like this drawing. That's why it was so hard to figure out how to get around.”

  Seffy scrutinized the drawing. “Why would anyone build something like this? There's so much wasted space.”

  He sent her a meaningful look. “Who says it's wasted?”

  “Ew. Why does that creep me out?”

  “Trust me, it does me, too.”

  “What do you think is in the very center?”

  “I figure that's where Fenn has his residence.”

  “Huh. Maybe that's why he always looks so out of it. That's a serious amount of distance to cover to get from place to place.”

  “I have a feeling there are shortcuts for those in the know.”

  “Gosh, what a fun place to end up.”

  He grinned at her sarcasm.

  Trent pulled a screwdriver, glue, and new lock from the back pocket of his jeans. “If you joined me on my explorations, you could fill in more blanks.”

  Seffy ignored him and crumpled up her piece of paper. While he began work on the door, she nipped into the bathroom. She'd forgotten to put on makeup. After her face looked presentable, she brushed out her hair and tried to figure out what to do with it. The ends needed trimming and her roots were beyond needing a simple touch up. Maybe there was a salon on the premises.

  Seffy grimaced at her reflection. How could she be critical of Gareth having a non-fact-finding movie night when she was worried about her grow-out? She scooped up her hair and put it in a twist, secured it with a large clip, then arranged the spray of hair at the back. At least it would stay out of her face. She left the bathroom to find Trent putting away his tools. “You're done already?”

  “Well, instead of drilling new holes, I just glued the wood back into place.”

  “That doesn't seem very secure.”

  “Sef, do you really think I would force my way into your room?”

  “You did last night.”

  “Only because I thought you were being murdered.”

  She struggled to get the glower off her face. “Well, thanks for your concern.”

  He smiled as if something was amusing. “It's special wood glue, stronger than the original wood in fact. And I fixed the bent hinges.”

  He seemed to be leading up to something. She decided to bite. “Do I owe you anything?”

  Trent grinned and shoved the screwdriver into his back pocket. “You could take me up on my offer.”

  “Which one?” she asked, giving him a limpid look.

  “Let me take you on a discreet little tour of the compound.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay? Just like that?” He groaned. “Man, I should've asked for that other thing instead.”

  Seffy couldn't resist a smile. “Sorry, that's the way it goes.”

  Giving her a speculative look, he brushed his hands together. “Let me get cleaned up and we'll be on our way.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “So, are you Scully or Mulder?”

  Seffy looked at Trent as they entered his room through the passageway—a necessary step to avoid detection, according to him. “What's that?”

  “It's people, Sef. You know, from the X-Files?”

  She looked around his room, wondering where the next path would start. And wondering why she agreed to go with him in the first place. Then again, she was doing something that might help them get away—even if it ended up being a rabbit trail. “And that's supposed to mean something?”

  “So you don't watch any sci-fi?”

  Seffy stared at him. “Seriously, do I look like the kind of person who does?”

  His mouth twitched. “I guess not.” He motioned her to follow him into the bathroom. “Let me put it another way. Are you a skeptic or a believer?”

  “In what? Science fiction? By definition, isn't fiction fictional?” She peered around the room. “We're in your bathroom why?”

  Trent pushed open the tiny linen closet. “I mean in the paranormal.”

  Seffy looked past him, her respiration jumping a notch. “There's no way I'm going in there.”

  “Are you afraid of the dark?”

  “No. I've spent a lot of time in the dark. I'm more concerned about spiders.”

  He raised his brow as if puzzling over her words. “This is the way we have to go.”

  She look around his shoulder. “It looks narrow.”

  “It's a passageway between walls, that's why it's so narrow.”

  “I'll have an arachnid-induced panic attack.”

  “We won't be in there long.”

  “What if there's more than spiders. What if 'paranormal' are things in there?”


  He smiled. “I'm guessing you're Mulder. You want to believe.”

  “I have zombie floaters in my blood, Trent. I don't have a choice but to believe.”

  “Well, we can't both be Mulders. Who's going to be the skeptic?”

  “I'm skeptical about following you down dark passages between walls where there could be bad things and spiders. In fact, I'm skeptical about following you anywhere at all.”

  “Ah, so you're a complex character.”

  She pushed him toward the entryway so he could go first and break any spider webs.

  “Pull the door closed behind you,” he said. “And we shouldn't talk since we could be passing occupied rooms further down.”

  “Is screaming okay?” she whispered as the passage plunged into darkness.

  “Take my hand.”

  “It's not like I'm going to wander off, Trent. Just don't go too fast.”

  She heard him grumble something and move forward. Seffy opened her eyes to their widest but couldn't see a thing. She reached out but encountered only empty space. Dang it, Trent wasn't waiting for her. She shimmied ahead as much as possible. Her hips must be wider than his if he could move that fast.

  After fifteen minutes—if she had any concept of time while fumbling in inky blackness—she began to sweat while trying not to imagine little leggy things crawling over her body. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to continue. Occasionally, she'd put her hand out, but Trent seemed to have gone far ahead. Perspiration trickled between her shoulder blades. She chanted mind over matter under her breath and pressed on.

  After some time, the passage became more narrow. Seffy's pulse increased as she forced herself further. Finally, she stopped, unable to go on. “Trent?” she said in a low voice.

  Nothing.

  Seffy gulped. “Trent!”

  Suddenly a sliver of light cut the darkness. She watched as it continued to spread until a rectangle of light was visible at the end of the hall. Thank God. She pulled in a deep breath and inched forward.

  The light disappeared. Seffy gasped. “Trent, I swear if you left me in here...”

  “I didn't. Reach out your hand.”

  She complied and he grabbed a hold of her, pulling her forward. The light appeared again and suddenly they were stumbling out into a storage closet. Seffy crashed into Trent's chest and grabbed a shelf to steady herself. Once she could balance on her own two feet, she frantically brushed her hands down her body. “Check my back.”

  He turned her around. “Don't see any arachnids.”

  Seffy shivered. “Ugh, I didn't think I was going to make it.” She looked up at him. “There has to be a better way.”

  “It's either this or the ductwork.”

  Her eyes widened. “I don't think I could get up in those ceilings again. Unless that zombie juice gave me super strength, which I think by now I would've noticed.”

  He regarded her with heavy-lidded amusement. “You know as far as that strength thing goes, you might just want to consider doing a few push ups from time to time.”

  She rolled her eyes at him then passed a hand in front of her face to dislodge any webs. “So where are we?”

  “If my calculations are correct, we're in the main part of the compound. That's why I had to leave you behind for a bit. I was counting steps. It's the only way I can calculate distance and location.”

  “How did you discover the passages in the first place?”

  “Deduction. People were somehow moving way too fast from section to section. Since the halls are almost always empty, it just made sense.”

  “Do you mean everyone uses the passages?”

  “Not the residents, just those in the know.”

  “Why couldn't they have nice wide underground tunnels?”

  “There are those in another part of the compound.”

  She grimaced. “I don't get it. Why would someone build a place so full of rabbit trails if the idea was for a sanctuary?”

  “Who told you that? This place was built by Soviet wannabes back in the fifties.”

  “Fenn said his dad—”

  “Fenn again. He's lying if he told you his dad wasn't a commie.”

  Seffy frowned, trying to remember the conversation. “He didn't mention that. He just said his dad named it Fugere, which is either Latin or Swahili for refuge.”

  “It's not a bad name if you think of all the political dissidents who could hide in these walls.”

  Seffy's eyes widened. “Have you ever run into anyone in the passages?”

  He shook his head. “But I've mostly just been in our wing, which isn't very populated.”

  Trent had been very busy. Why wasn't Gareth the one taking point on this? She looked around the storage closet. “Where to next?”

  Trent eased open the door and motioned her to follow. Out in the hall, they walked past rows of doors and turned a corner, which led them to large double doors. He looked back at her. “Hungry?”

  “Are you?” Seffy let out a soft snort. “Why don't you eat with the others?”

  “What, hang out with your boy toy or that prickly redhead? Lani's the only decent one of the bunch, but all she does is slobber over Malone.”

  “That's kinda harsh.”

  “And I'm not even finished. Cynthia and Eva are whiners, and let's just say Jared and I don't have that much in common.”

  “Sheesh. So what are my flaws?”

  He gave her a slow once over. “Trust me, babe, you're perfect. Though a strip of duct tape over your mouth from time to time would be the finishing touch.”

  Seffy pinched him hard in the side.

  “Ouch!”

  “Lower your voice,” she hissed. “Since we're on the subject of character assassinations, let me just add that you are arrogant, over-bearing, nasty, sexist—”

  “So why are you here?”

  She raised her brows to cover her befuddlement. “The same reason as you. I want to figure out how to get home.”

  “Are you so sure that's my motivation?”

  She blinked. “You said so yourself.”

  “I only said that I wasn't waiting around to be rescued.”

  “What, you have aspirations to take over Fugere? To be Our Dear Leader?”

  He shrugged. “I'd do a lot better job than Fenn. He seems to be a decent guy, but he's weak.”

  “I thought you couldn't stand him.”

  “I can't stand the way he looks at you.”

  “Why, because maybe he's admiring instead of salacious like you are?”

  “You said you never noticed him staring.”

  Seffy glared at him. “Are we going to get something to eat or not?”

  “I was just waiting for the cooks to take their fifteen minute break.”

  “You have this all timed?”

  “Duh.”

  “Why don't you just charm them into giving you food?”

  He sent her a flirtatious smile. “Since meeting you, I now doubt the potency of my charm. Besides, if you knew anything about science-fiction, you know 'never trust the lunch lady'.”

  Laughter sputtered in Seffy's throat. “God, you are such a dork.”

  He checked through the window. “Okay..now.”

  They slipped through the doors. The vast industrial kitchen, decked out in stainless steel, was full of bubbling pots and pans, sizzling fryers and open-ended ovens. There was nary a lunch lady in sight.

  “Grab a napkin and pick something portable.”

  Seffy watched Trent get a couple of burritos from the warming case. She wasn't much into Mexican. There were usual deep-fried choices; corn dogs, chicken strips, and potato wedges. She picked a mini cheese pizza.

  “Ready?” Trent whispered.

  She nodded.

  He led her back the way they came, grabbing a couple cold cans of soda from an open cooler unit. They hurried back to the closet. Once inside, Trent bit into his burrito.

  She watched him with an odd fascination. “So this is what you do?
Swipe meals and eat in hiding? Sounds like you have food issues, dude.”

  “It beats hanging out with the others or subsisting on what they feed you.”

  Seffy took a bite of her pizza. It was hot and melty. “I guess I thought they'd have healthier fare from that huge garden outside.”

  “This is the lunch selection for people to grab and go. They put on big communal dinners in the evening with all the trimmings. That's where the fruit of their labors end up.”

  “You're so very informed.”

  “I'm observant.”

  “You mean snoopy.”

  He shrugged and started in on his second burrito.

  Seffy worked on her pizza. Sure the crust tasted like cardboard, but compared to her other options, it might have well been ambrosia. She picked up one of the cans. “Whoa. I haven't had sugar soda in forever.”

  “Hope you like grape.”

  “They didn't have anything diet?”

  Trent made a face. “Hurry up. Eventually someone is going to need a broom or mop.”

  “What do we do with our garbage?”

  “There's a plastic bag behind you. We'll stick our stuff in there and I'll get rid of it later.”

  Seffy quickly drained her soda, then hoped she wouldn't burp. After stowing their trash, Trent reached through the shelving and released some kind of latch. The side wall swung open like a door. He got down on all fours and slid under the bottom shelf.

  Seffy suppressed a groan. She was going to get filthy.

  “C'mon.”

  “So, since you're Mr. Observant, what else do you know? Like where do they keep all the medical records?”

  Trent glanced back at her, his expression curious. “Are you wanting to see all the private little medical notes they have on you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I'll check into it.”

  “So you don't know?”

  He offered her a disarming smile. “Not yet, babe, but I will.”

  “Ugh, don't call me babe.”

  Seffy got down on her knees, and tried to make herself follow him into a pitch black hole again. Impatient, Trent grabbed her arm and pulled her through, making her squeak in protest. Once inside, they got to their feet. Trent closed the door and made sure it was latched.

  “Why couldn't someone at least string up some little white Christmas lights?” Seffy said, this time grabbing a handful of Trent's shirt hem in the back. “Then we could see creepy crawlies and avoid them.”