Sudden, overwhelming pain in my head brings me to my knees. Whatever Terry did to me in the last test, he is doing it again, pressing as hard as he can to get into my mind.
“Why can’t I read you?” he asks, baring his teeth.
He can’t read me, which means Terry didn’t find out what our group was up to from me.
My entire head feels like it’s being pressed together, squeezed as tight as it can be without mercy.
“No.” The word is more of a growl coming from my aching throat than anything.
“It was her, you know,” Terry says. “Your girlfriend, the security guard. She turned you in.”
No. It can’t be her. Bianca didn’t know.
But she did. Maybe not our backup plan, but she was the one who organized the plan to get security information and plot our escape.
“No.”
Terry’s grip on my mind is blinding. It’s hard to bring thoughts together clearly.
“Yes,” he says. “Did you really think she wouldn’t sing if it came down to you or her?”
She wouldn’t. Bianca wouldn’t betray me.
Breaths are harder to come by. My heart is pounding from the pressure in my skull.
“Stop,” I say, the word more of a breath.
“Why should I?” Terry is shaking, resting more of his weight against the ground.
I press my hands to my head, but it doesn’t help.
“I am stronger now,” Terry says. “I suppose I have you to thank for that.”
My vision blackens.
I can hear nothing but the beating of my heart pumping blood through my body.
Then suddenly the pressure is gone. Soft, smooth hands touch my face. I push them away, but whoever it is has more strength than I do. Arms pull me close in a hug. The scent of citrus soap washes over me. A familiar voice whispers in my ear, gentle and reassuring.
“It’s okay. I’m here.”
~~~
Bianca. It’s really her here with me. It must be real. The smell of her soap. The feel of her soft, warm arm against my neck. That can’t be simulated, can it? We sit with our backs to the plateau as I recover.
Terry lies sprawled on the ground a few feet away, blood oozing from his hairline. Bianca must have knocked him out. I’m overwhelmed with relief to see someone, a friend, but I can’t shake what Terry said.
“Why are you here?” I ask as soon as the water and food she gave me have finally done their job. I’m about as recovered as I will ever be.
“To help you.” Her thin brows scrunch together.
She turned you in. Terry’s warning taunts me. But it can’t be right. I can’t believe she would do that to me.
“I thought you were dead.” I can’t meet her eyes, as much as I want to find the truth in them, I just can’t bear to look at her.
“Why?”
“I’ve seen things, Bianca. I’ve seen them, and I can’t unsee them, and you were escorted from Joyce’s office, and I thought…” It’s hard to breathe. I tip my head back and try to gulp in breaths. My throat hurts so much from Terry’s hands.
“They are watching you, Ugene.” Bianca leans forward, and I can’t help but gaze into her bright eyes. “Even here.”
“What did Dr. Cass say to you in the office that night?”
“Are you listening to me?”
I can’t get Terry’s voice out of my head. “Why aren’t you answering me?”
“Forrest is obsessed with you,” Bianca says, staring off into the distance. “He watches your videos and listens to your audio all the time. He’s always reviewing test results and blood samples. Something isn’t right.”
Anger propels me to my feet, towering over Bianca. “What did she say, Bianca? What did you say?”
“Nothing! I didn’t tell her anything. She just…” She swallows, meeting my gaze, tears brimming her eyes and making them shimmer. “She just knew things. About the tablet. The plan to escape. She knew, Ugene. I didn’t tell her anything.”
I shuffle a few feet back. Heat makes it hard to think clearly. “But you said something.”
Bianca looks down, picking at her nails and chewing her lower lip. Tears roll down her cheeks unchecked.
I lower my voice dangerously. “What did you say?”
“Only that you supposed to go to floor 189, so I was taking you there.” Her voice is strained with emotion. “But she knew something else was going on. She knew you were planning to escape Paragon, that you accessed restricted information and that you were acting delusional.”
“Did you tell her?”
“I only said you were scared and wanted out. Nothing else. Ugene.” Bianca reaches out, but I recoil. “I had to tell her something. She was threatening to question all of you with some sort of injection that makes you tell secrets or something.”
Injection. A truth serum? Did she really have such a thing? And Bianca. In all my life she was the only person who never lied to me. At least, as far as I knew. Bianca was always there to defend me. Now Dr. Cass knows I’m trying to escape Paragon Tower. She probably knows I know about the experiments, and if she knows that, I will never be able to prove it. Dr. Cass will be one step ahead of me. She already is.
All we have is the drive, assuming it’s still in Miller’s possession.
“Ugene, please.” Bianca shifts to her knees and reaches out for my hand, but I pull it away, glancing at the still unconscious Terry on the ground. “I came here to help you.” Bianca doesn’t pull her hand back.
My voice sounds empty as I speak. “You’ve done enough.”
Despite the ache on the bottom of my foot, I turn and run east along the road, as fast as I can get away from her.
“Wait!” Bianca calls.
A glance over my shoulder shows that Bianca is following. I run as if my speed will save me—will save us all. I run as if it will help me escape this nightmare. Bianca doesn’t pursue anymore.
More than anything, I desire the warm embrace of my mother.
But there’s nothing but the howl of wind in my ears, throbbing pain in my foot, and a burn in my lungs.
The exhaustion in my legs makes my knees give out before I’m ready to stop. I trip, stumble forward, and land on aching hands and knees on the road, gasping for breaths. As I sit back on my haunches and tip my head back, a beep resounds nearby.
A semi-transparent and flat holographic screen appears in the air directly in front of me, roughly the size of a wall, revealing an image of Miller’s head and shoulders against a white background. It could be anywhere.
Anywhere but here.
Everything remains the same around me—arid ground, concrete road, heat.
“I wanna know what happened to Murphy,” Miller’s image says to the camera. “I need to know, and I don’t care what you do to me.”
“It’s not about what we will do to you,” Dr. Cass’ familiar voice says off screen. “It’s about what you will do for us.”
Miller scowls. “I’m not doing jack until you give me answers. Official word is he tested out, but you and I both know that doesn’t happen. What did you do to him? Did he get one of those injections? Did you toss him on the rubbish pile with all the other bodies of your failed experiments?”
What is going on?
Dr. Cass makes a little trill. “For someone who acts like he knows so much, you know very little. Tell us what you and your friends are up to—exactly what they are up to—and I will tell you exactly what happened to your boyfriend.”
Sweat rolls down Miller’s temple, and he leans forward, rubbing his hands over his face. Has Joyce used that serum on Miller? Maybe he has no control over himself. Maybe he has to answer. After a moment he sits back, face calm and composed. It’s hard to accept that someone so together is being forced into anything.
“I want everything,” he says.
“I’ll be sure you get it.”
Miller. The first friend I had here. But were we ever really friends?
“It’s Ugene’s idea.”<
br />
The words are like a knife twisting in my chest. “Wha—?” Is this in real-time? Miller was so insistent on not asking questions, on keeping things so quiet that no one would suspect. He was the one who suggested we get out.
“He is planning to use our collective Powers to break everyone out of Paragon Tower. Bianca is supposed to be gathering security information for us. Then we will hack into Forrest’s tablet again to get information before we go.”
What game is he playing at?
“I’m afraid I need more than that, Miller,” Joyce says. “I need specific details.”
“Fine.” Miller looks away from the camera, his calm composure cracking. “But I need more than good faith. I gave you something. I expect something back before this goes further.” He looks back, his expression hardened again. “Is Murphy alive?”
The video feed cuts out, slicing off a chunk of my heart as it goes and leaving me alone in the desert to bleed to death. Has Miller has been playing me? Was that even real? I don’t want to believe it’s true. I trust Miller. We want the same thing…
Don’t we?
36
My gut sinks as a familiar face comes into focus only a few feet away.
Miller. Dirty, tired, dehydrated Miller.
Breaths come quicker. My mouth goes dry, and I try to say something, but nothing comes out.
Miller’s voice cracks, and he takes a step forward, white knuckles wrapped around the straps of his backpack.
“Ugene, I’m sorry.”
The words punch me. It’s true… He really sold us out.
Miller’s face is contorted in agony, torture. Good. I hope he’s dying inside. The extra security on Forrest’s tablet was his fault. Miller told them what we were trying to do, so they locked everything down tighter.
I hold out a hand. “Don’t.”
I won’t fight him. I can’t. Even though he turned us in, betrayed us, I still can’t bring myself to fight him. So instead, I walk away.
Jade had warned me that Miller didn’t make friends, didn’t seem to care about anyone else. I assumed later that it was because of what happened to Murphy. Now, it doesn’t matter. Murphy is gone, and Miller made his choice.
Maybe I don’t know him at all.
Anger fuels me, crushing down the pain in my chest. Miller is the reason Trina, Dave, and Michael were taken away. Are they lying on a table right now, suffering the same fate as Jade?
My hand drops to my side. Miller takes another wary step toward me, closing the distance. What if they are dead because of him?
I swing out a hook like Bianca taught me. It connects with Miller’s jaw with a smack. He stumbles back and works his jaw, reaching up to rub it.
“Maybe I deserved—”
I cut him off with another hook, unable to stop myself. This is his fault. He does deserve it. He blocks the hook with his forearm and shoves me backward, palms against my chest.
“I gave you a free shot,” he says, rubbing the tips of his fingers against his palms. What is he doing? “That’s all you get.”
I flex my fingers out, then into fists. Is he my friend? He can’t be. All he cares about is himself.
I launch forward again.
Miller’s fingers suddenly stop their incessant motion, steepling toward each other. Bright blue-white lightning arcs between his fingertips, creating an energy field.
A shock hits me, and I bounce backward, landing on my back. Hot concrete burns through the fabric of my shirt. Breaths come in gasps. I slip off the strap of my bag and leave it on the ground.
“Stop,” he says. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”
I growl and launch to my feet, ramming a shoulder into his gut, arms around his waist. He tosses his backpack on the ground. We barrel onto the plain. Lightning lances the earth around us, grazing my calf. Fiery hot pain burns my leg. A scream rips from my throat, but my fist still connects with Miller’s gut.
He grunts, grabs my arm with one hand, and pulls. He shoves the opposite shoulder, bucking me off.
The burning pain won’t subside. It screams at me, but adrenaline and anger push me forward.
“You betrayed us all,” I say, pushing back on my good leg to launch again.
The air around us shifts from hot and dry to humid and moist. Rain begins to fall, but only from the cloud over us. It formed from nothing. Miller’s doing, no doubt. The drops are cool against my hot skin.
“What should I have done instead?” he asks, standing and brushing himself off.
I narrow my focus on his hands. He’s doing it again, rubbing the tips of his fingers against his palms. Charging up.
I hate this place! I hate Forrest for putting me in this position. I hate Joyce for luring me in. I hate Paragon for what they’re doing to the test subjects. I hate Miller for betraying my trust. But most of all, I hate feeling powerless.
Miller looks upward for a moment, pointing his fingers at the sky. Mist falls in sheets around us, soaking through our clothes, relieving the heat. I push off.
“Stop!”
Miller’s plea is too late. My foot slips on the slick concrete. I fall forward. A cage of lightning shoots down from the sky around me, catching the side of my forehead, jolting me backward. I hate myself for fighting one of the few friends I have in this forsaken place.
No. Not my friend. A friend wouldn’t betray us like he did.
Groaning, I open my eyes, allowing them to adjust. Every part of my body aches. I rock on my back in agony. The cage is still up, blue bars made from the lightning he conjured. I touch the side of my head, coming away with blood. Everything spins as I ease myself upright. With every breath, my lungs burn, and my throat aches.
“Ugene.” His voice is low. “You okay?”
I wipe mist and blood from my face. “Like you care.”
“They had me cornered after the last Survival test, locked in my room until I talked,” he says. His hand wraps around the lighting bars of my cage. Of course, it wouldn’t faze him. “They just wanted information. In exchange, they gave me the materials I could manipulate to create the drive and give it to you. I tried to resist telling them, but … Ugene, Murphy is alive.”
After pushing off the ground, I stalk toward the bars, careful not to touch them. Electricity buzzes in the air around them. “Good for him. Maybe he can trust you, but I sure as hell can’t. I needed your help. I needed a friend.”
Miller glances at the sky. “I don’t do friendship. Friends disappear.”
“Because you pull stupid stunts like this! Maybe that’s why Murphy ditched you. Maybe he saw the truth.”
Miller flinches. The lightning around me crackles, pulses, and grows as Miller’s expression takes on a dangerous edge. “Who do you think you are, Ugene? You come to this place, act like the king of all—”
“What?”
“—and just expect that we’ll be chummy because of a few conversations.” The mist mats his blond hair against his head. I want to rip it from his skull. “I told you not to knock, not to ask questions. And you didn’t give a crap about anything but what you wanted.” Miller leans as close as he can to the bars. “Murphy is alive out there somewhere. Paragon lost him. He was taken to another floor for testing and just disappeared. No one knows what happened to him. I don’t give a piece what you think of me, Ugene. But I need you to get out of this place and find him.”
“I’m not a tool.” It’s impossible to resist the urge to reach through the bars, grab Miller’s face, and smash it into my first. A snarl curls my lip upward and my hand darts forward, but the mixture of mist and electric energy stops me with a bzzz. I jump back, shaking out the jolt making the muscles in my arm contract.
“Get a grip,” Miller says, backing up. “Nothing has changed. We still need to get out of here.”
“Sure, but now they know how we planned to do it,” I say.
“Then we change the game.”
“Get bent.” I turn my back to him and cross my arms. “I can’t trust
you won’t lead us into another trap.”
Miller sighs, and when he speaks again, he sounds defeated. “I’ll let you out if you don’t hit me again.”
“Right.” I laugh. I want to do more than just hit him.
“An act of good faith, then.” The lighting bars disappear. “I need your help.”
I half turn, debating if it’s worth the effort to trust him or if I should try using fists again. But we are both stuck in here together, and time is running out. Our issues can resolve once we get out of here. “Do you love him?”
Miller rubs his hands together, and for a brief moment, before he looks away, I can see the pain in his eyes. Love will make you do crazy things. Stupid things.
“Miller.”
“Yes! Okay? Yes.” His shoulders slump, hands hanging limp at his sides. “And I will do anything you want to get out of here and find him.” He snatches his backpack off the ground and slings it on his back again.
It’s hard to accept what Miller did, regardless of the circumstances, but at least this I can understand. Love is the same excuse that put me in this place to begin with. All I wanted was to help my dad. Love is a construct that makes us do crazy, irrational things.
After another glance to the falling mist, I pull up my shirt and press it against the wound on my head. It hurts like hell when I touch it, and a hiss slips out through clenched teeth. These last couple of days have been hell. If Paragon knows what we were planning to do to escape, Miller is right. It’s time to change the game. Surprise is all we have left.
“Does he love you?”
Miller shifts his bag straps on his shoulders, clearly uncomfortable. “Yes. And he wouldn’t just leave me.”
I examine the blood on my shirt to try and determine the depth of the wound. “You should have told me. We could have prepared for all this better if you had just been honest from the start. If you really still want the same thing as me, then keeping this all a secret was counterproductive to your goals as much as mine.”
“You’re right.”
“I know that!” The blood on the hem of my shirt isn’t so bad. Just a surface scratch, probably. “What happened to the drive?”
“I knew Forrest had people coming, so I took it,” Miller said. “It’s safe.”
Ordinary Page 22