Celeste steps up beside Miller, and he flinches away when she reaches for his temples. She makes a soothing sound. His shoulders tense and his hands clasp into fists. The contact makes his body convulse, then his gray eyes brighten, fingers extended toward the tight group. More whimpers, a few cries of alarm, protests. A mix of anxiety and fear overcomes the cluster.
The energy flows slowly from Miller’s fingers, electric blue lines of Power headed toward the Naturalists conductors. The air in the room charges. Hair stands up. My heartbeat quickens. Everything burns brightly.
Then the Power hits me like someone punched me in the back of the head. A shock shoots down my body, through every limb, every nerve, then every muscle locks up. It doesn’t burn, surprisingly, but it does knock the air from my lungs, making me feel like I’m drowning.
My head starts buzzing and the room—what I can see of it—tilts. I feel like I’m floating, no longer in control of my own body. Distantly, I’m aware of the gasps for breath and momentary cries cut off by the shock as others experience the same jolt.
When it ends, instead of feeling tired or near death like I expected, an unanticipated rush of adrenaline flows through me. I’ve never felt so alive.
“It worked.” Bianca’s proclamation sounds more like alarm than relief like she doubted me.
I suppose I can’t blame her. I doubted myself but seeing that door cracked open emits a whoop of success from me—from all of us.
“Remember,” I say to everyone, inching toward the door. “PSECT is waiting for us. Throw your Power out without moving the door if you can. If you can’t, stay back. The second it’s done, we go left, straight to the elevators. Same groups as before. Electromancers in each group. All the way to the ground floor.”
Heads bob in agreement, and those ready to attack the hallway shuffle toward the door as Somatics and Divinics move toward the back of the group. I join them.
47
The assault in the hallway begins. Shattering glass. The floor rumbles. Lights flicker, and Power electrifies the air. I huddle near the back of the group between Rosie and Celeste, listening to the horrific sounds of battle. Squelching screams. Guns firing at nothing. Fog filling the hallway, drifting past the doorway like a slithering snake. For so many people with so little Power, they certainly make a mighty force together.
And almost as quickly as it started, it ends. Silence settles in the hallway. Bianca thrusts the door open, and everyone makes a tunnel for the Somatics to rush through and clear the way of any lurking Paragon employees.
“Clear!” Bianca calls at the end of the hall as she and the other Somatics activate all the lifts.
Everyone bolts down the hallway, slipping on broken glass and blood, hurdling fallen bodies. So much death, and yet I feel so alive. Whatever Miller did to us, the effects still linger. I feel like I could run down all ninety-nine flights of stairs and out the door. Does everyone else feel like this?
Despite the adrenaline, I find it hard to ignore what we’ve done here. The dead Paragon employees—dozens of them. They would have done the same to us, would have used any means necessary to keep us from escaping. I shouldn’t feel bad for these people. They made their choice. Yet, I do.
The elevator doors slide open and the groups file in. I count the heads of our group as Miller fiddles with the panel, breaks it out of the wall, and forces it to take us all the way down by using the wires directly like he did in the simulation. No taking chances this time.
“You realize we have no idea what time of day it is,” Miller says as the elevator lurches into motion. “We could be running out into mid-day traffic, and we don’t exactly look inconspicuous.”
I glance over my shoulder at the other subjects with us. He’s right. All of us are covered in dirt and blood. Our clothes are tattered and filthy, hair is stringy with sweat or clumped in mats. It’s evident none of us have focused on personal hygiene in days. We look like a bunch of escaped mental patients. Maybe we are.
“Not much we can do about it at this point,” I say. This could be our only chance at escape. If we hesitate now, we may never get another opportunity.
Miller tightens his grip on the wires, concentrating on the task at hand. “Something is trying to take control of the elevator.”
“Not something.” The implication is clear enough. We both know it’s Dr. Cass. I look up, watching the numbers tick downward. “Let’s just hope everyone makes it.”
The effort to maintain control of the elevator is clearly taxing. Miller breathes through his teeth. Sweat beads on his forehead.
“Back in the simulation, I noticed something,” I say, remembering as I watch the sweat roll down Miller’s temple. “Hilde was there with Dr. Cass, and she was focusing really hard on something. I don’t know what. But she was sweating. What do you suppose it could have been?”
“Does it matter?” Miller asks through gritted teeth.
“Maybe.” I watch the numbers again.
Nothing apparent happened in the simulation, but it was apparent enough that Hilde was using her Power. I haven’t really thought much about her Power because there were more pressing issues at hand.
“Not all books open so easily,” Celeste says, standing at my shoulder. “Some books require finesse, gentle coaxing to bring forth the words.”
“Mumbo-jumbo,” Miller grunts.
But, in her own way, Celeste is right. Terry couldn’t read me. He beat at my brain trying to get into my thoughts, like an assault with a scalpel trying to dig out the information. Mom never had to do that. Most of the time I didn’t know she was doing it at all. Her telepathic touch has a finesse Terry’s wholly lacked.
When Dr. Cass came to my house on Career Day, Mom said she couldn’t read Dr. Cass, like there was a wall around her mind. I found it odd at the time since Dr. Cass is a Naturalist. Bianca said Dr. Cass already knew what was going on, too. It makes perfect sense.
Hilde built the mental block. She’s a telepath. She probably tried to read me that day in the office and ran into the same issue Terry had. I don’t understand why I’m so hard to read, but something naturally blocks them. And if Hilde tried to read me, she already knew about what Bianca told Dr. Cass—and what Miller confessed.
I watch Miller fight for control of the elevator, finding it harder to be upset with him for what he did. They played him right from the start. They set him up to fall out of faith with me in a lame attempt at bringing this whole plan down.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open to the massive Paragon Tower lobby. Unlike in the simulation, the furniture and décor are present in the real world. Whites and reds and blacks on the furniture, walls, floor. Everywhere.
“Look.” Miller steps up beside me and points toward the doors.
Outside, there is only darkness broken by streetlights and the occasional light inside another building across the street. Very little traffic moves along the road.
“It has to be past midnight,” he says.
Another elevator opens, and Enid rushes out toward me. “Thank god. We had a heck of a time with the elevator. It took us to the tenth floor, and we thought we were gonna have to get out and take the stairs the rest of the way. I was afraid your elevator wouldn’t make it.”
“The stairs…” My face scrunches up as I look toward the closed doorway leading to the stairs, just at the end of the elevator bay. “That’s what Paragon wanted. At this time of night, the stairs offer a perfect trap.”
“Someone would have been waiting,” Miller grumbles. I notice he’s doing the same thing as me, counting heads in Enid’s group.
Nineteen.
“Enid, I want you and Boyd to start moving everyone toward the doors,” I say. “As soon as the other two groups get here, you lead them out to the Metro. I’ll have Madison let you know where we are headed from there.”
“I’m not leaving this building until you do,” Enid says, her back stiffening.
A shrieking of metal on metal echoes throug
h the lobby from one of the elevator shafts. I cover my ears. Screams and suppressed shouting come from somewhere within the elevator. The scraping stops. Heated arguments are muffled by the walls.
“Do something,” I bark at Miller and the Electromancer in Enid’s group.
But the two of them are already running to the panel, trying to work together to gain control of the lift.
Metal shrieks again, grinding against my nerves. Then a thunderous boom shakes the floor and debris kicks out from behind the closed doors, now slightly buckled. I hold my breath as Miller and the Electromancer—who I regrettably don’t know the name of—try to get the doors to open.
Inside the elevator is silence, and I fear the worst, that the drop killed them all. Would Paragon really go to such lengths to stop us?
A couple of Strongarms try to pry the doors open as Miller and the other boy work on the panel.
I can’t breathe, focused on the sounds from inside the elevator. Please don’t be dead. Please.
Shuffling. Whimpers and quiet words. I can’t quite make it out, but I know that at least someone survived.
Without realizing it, I had moved closer to the elevator and now stand just out of the way of the Strongarms trying to force the doors open. Which elevator did Bianca get into? Was it this one? Why didn’t I pay closer attention? God please, let her be alive.
Protesting loud enough to wake the dead, the doors inch their way open. Little by little. Sho is the first to slip out. A gash on his head pours out blood as he stumbles forward.
“They took control,” he mumbles, his words near jumbled.
Leo is next out, and he slides his arm under Sho’s for support. A deep cut bleeds on his cheek, but nothing more. “Concussion, I think,” he says, nodding slightly toward Sho. “We lost control, and it started to take us back up. When our guy fought for control, the elevator just started to freefall. The brakes kicked in, but it only slowed us down. Didn’t stop until we neared the bottom. We were arguing about what to do next when the Electromancer collapsed, and the elevator fell.”
Seven others stumbled out, clearly dazed and bleeding. Madison leans heavily against a muscular guy who is carrying most of her weight. I shift to see inside, but Leo leans his head toward me, blocking my view.
“Don’t,” he says.
Strange, the impact just one word can have on you. Tears sting my eyes, but I swallow and nod. Eleven. Barely half his group survived. So few.
I pause and clear my throat to get control of the surge of emotions rolling through me. “Help Boyd get everyone to the door. As soon as the last group shows up, start leading them to Metro Station Nine-Five. If we get separated, take the train east to Station Four-Two. We’ll meet there.”
“But Ugene—”
I shake my head. “Please. We need to get the remaining people away from here before we lose more. But I… I can’t leave without Bianca.”
Leo nods, swallowing down his protests, or maybe his fear. Who knows?
Miller sags beside me. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“You know,” he says, glancing at me as we wait. Where is the last elevator?
“We aren’t out yet. You’re free to go with them, you know. You don’t have to wait here. I know you want to find Murphy.” It’s the best I can offer as a dismissal. He made it perfectly clear what his objective is, and here is his chance to leave.
“I do.” Miller stands a little straighter but is clearly exhausted. “But if I left you here and did find him, Murphy would box my ears for being an idiot.”
“You may not get another chance.”
He glances at me, and the expression on his face says it all. There’s no moving an immovable mountain. “I’m not going anywhere just yet.”
“Neither am I,” Enid says, stepping up to my other side and taking my hand. “I came this far with you. We either finish it together or not at all.”
A stupid sentiment, but still appreciated. I give her hand a squeeze.
The hum of the elevator approaching pulls my attention back to the doors as two guys—both Strongarm subjects I barely recognize—join our meager line, waiting.
48
The numbers above the elevator door slowly tick down.
Ten.
Why is Bianca’s elevator so late? What took them so long?
Nine.
A sickening feeling twists my gut. Something about this isn’t right.
Eight.
Why didn’t I send Madison with Bianca? Would it make a difference?
Seven.
“I don’t like this,” Miller grumbles. I’m not sure if he meant for us to hear him or not.
Six.
“It’s fine,” I say much more confidently than I feel.
Five.
Another sound draws our attention away from the elevator doors. The thunderous hammering of stampeding feet from the nearby stairwell.
Four.
The stairwell door bursts open and Bianca doesn’t break stride, running from the stairwell toward us.
“What—?”
“Get away from the elevators!” she yells.
Three.
As if of one mind, our line breaks and rushes for the group now emerging from the stairs.
Two.
Bianca shifts her feet and runs straight for the elevator door. Enid ushers Rosie and the other thirteen test subjects with her to the main doors.
The elevator dings.
Miller forms a ball of lightning between his fingers as the doors slide open. His hands tremble.
Three of the other unused elevators open with the one that just reached our floor. I hold my breath, not sure what to expect from these four elevators.
Miller launches his ball of lightning into one of the lifts the moment the door opens. Screams. Gunshots. The Strongman subject beside me falls back. Miller forms another ball, but it’s smaller, and he’s shaking, his face pale. Too much Power in one day. Too much of this. We need to get out now. But I’m frozen by fear, unsure what to do amidst so much Power.
Enid pivots, creating a wall of fog between us and the main doors, giving the other subjects time to escape. It’s dense and quickly begins to dissipate.
“Ugene, let’s go,” she calls, flicking her gaze from the elevators and the security trying to pour out, to me, and to the disappearing fog.
But I can’t leave. I can’t abandon my friends. There has to be something I can do.
Everyone is in the thick of battle. Security guards try to fire. Some of their weapons are knocked away by the two Strongarms—one oozing blood from his side. Celeste stands in the center of the lobby, hands folded toward the ground. Despite the chaos, she is untouched, unperturbed. Bianca is tangled in battle with Derrek. Anger burns in my veins. He could have come with us, could have escaped. Instead, he is helping Paragon. Was he a plant? Bianca is strong, but Derrek seems an equal match. She needs help.
Breaking out of my stupor as everyone else fights off the guards, I rush to the reception desk and begin rummaging through the draws. Gum with foil wrappers, a letter-opener, salt packets, and a lighter. Under the counter, a fire extinguisher. I grab it.
Security guards continue fighting their way into the lobby. I unlock the extinguisher and spray in their direction. It’s not much, but it causes enough of a diversion and confusion that the others have a chance to pull back. Except for Bianca, still locked in combat with Derrek.
“Celeste, get out of here!” I call over my shoulder.
Gripping the extinguisher in one hand, I run toward Bianca but after two or three steps skid to a stop as a voice calls out my name from above.
“Ugene!” Forrest stands on the next level at the glass-panel rail, watching the chaos on the lobby. “Stand down. Come with us, and they can go.”
Me. Just me. It’s a tempting offer. My life for theirs.
Dr. Cass steps beside him, and I envision Dad’s frail body all over again. They won’t keep their promises. I can’t trust
them.
“Ugene,” Dr. Cass says my name so casually as if there is no other chaos happening around us. “You are the key. I told you that the day you came here. Elpis is dying. Those with low-ranking Powers threaten our very way of life. But with your help, we can stop them. We can halt the needless resistance, cure regression, and offer peace to the people of Elpis. We just need you.”
Miller groans, on his knees, holding his hands out as endless streams of lightning fly from his fingers toward the guards. He can’t hold out much longer.
Celeste remains cemented in place, her lips moving but her words silent amid the chaos.
Derrek twists Bianca’s arm behind her back, holding a gun to her chin. His eyes are blank like they were in the simulation. Some of the files I read before, on Forrest’s tablet, spring to the front of my mind. The advertisement or IVD. The remarks about using one of the formulas as a potential controlling agent. I didn’t understand before. None of it made sense. But looking at Derrek’s obedient face, everything falls into place.
“You’ve learned how to control us,” I breathe, now more thankful than ever that we killed the nanomonitors. “You aren’t helping anyone. You aren’t offering a cure. You’re trying to take control!” Is that how Dr. Cass got the council to vote in favor of her proposition?
“Control of what?” Dr. Cass’ sarcastic laugh echoes around the lobby. “There’s so much about this world you don’t understand. Your parents sheltered you for too long. There are people in this city threatening our very way of life, and if they succeed, everything will fall apart. Their agenda will bring on anarchy and bring an end to the safety and security of Elpis that everyone—including people like you—have enjoyed all their lives.”
People fighting back, just like Mo mentioned that first day they met me in the halls. I step back, glaring up at her and Forrest, so safe up there.
“Don’t you see?” Dr. Cass waves a hand around the chaos. “It’s about liberation. I’m freeing humanity.”
Enid gasps beside me, staring up at the lines of security guards all around each level above, guns pointed at us. Miller stops fighting—sweat making his shirt stick to his chest—and staggers to his feet, stumbling back beside me, along with the two Strongarm subjects.
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