“Where to?” Zoe asks.
“Thirty-Two Flat Rock Road,” I reply. “Quartz Sector.”
Zoe makes a sharp left, the seat harness digging into my shoulder. “Why are you helping me?” I ask.
Zoe’s eyes flick over to me for a split second, and they’re shimmering with energy. “I know you think there’s something wrong with Elusion. Yesterday I overheard my dad talking on his tab with some other stockholder. Things got pretty heated. He was on some rant about something called nanopsychosis. Saying that he wasn’t going to dump his shares until there was real proof Elusion caused it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that angry.”
Finally, word of Elusion’s dangerous flaw is making it through the corporate ranks. “Did you ask him about it?”
“Hell yeah, I did. But of course he blew me off, like he always does. So I said I was meeting some friends in Elusion, and he yanked my Equip away from me and forbade me to use it. When I called Patrick, he was pretty cagey too, but eventually he admitted that you were suffering from this weird sickness. After that, I had to see what was going on for myself, so I texted you.” She looks at me sideways and smirks. “For the record, you don’t look sick to me.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I’m not.”
“That’s what I thought. So are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
I begin to talk, explaining everything. She listens, only asking questions when necessary. By the time I’ve finished, the streets have narrowed and are lined with ugly little steel trailers, evacuated houses, and uncollected trash. We’re closing in on the Quartz Sector, the dilapidated area that was hit by a severe storm ages ago and pretty much left to rot.
Zoe is quiet, her gloved fingers gripping the steering wheel. For a minute, it seems like she’s trying to gauge her feelings, or trying to figure out whose story to trust. “We have to help those people who are still stuck in Elusion.”
My thoughts reel back to the night Avery, Josh, and I went in search of Nora—how we rescued Maureen, the frail girl in the basement of that broken-down house, who repeated my father’s words back to me. And how Claire disintegrated in the rapids, screaming out in pain.
“Are there any more details on that girl who was just found?” I ask.
“Why don’t you check the Net? You can use my tab.”
I reach for her tab, which is on the floor near my feet. The car chase had sent it flying out of my lap. I try to access the search function after waking it up from sleep mode, but there’s a passcode preventing me from getting past the home screen.
“Oh. Type in ‘bitchypants,’” Zoe says.
I raise my eyebrows at her and laugh a little. “Seriously?”
“It’s an inside joke.” She shrugs, without saying the name of the other person who’s in on it.
I put in Zoe’s passcode and then look up a reliable news site on the Net.
The headline pops on the screen: College Star Athlete Succumbs to Unusual Brain Injury.
My hand begins to shake as I click on the link. A well-dressed male reporter stands outside the gate of a beautiful mansion surrounded by palm trees. The volume is muted, and I’m about to adjust the settings when the image of the reporter recedes and a graduation picture appears on-screen.
It’s a girl with white-blond hair, pulled back in a ponytail, and bright green eyes.
Claire.
“Did you find something?” I hear Zoe say.
I don’t respond. I just stare at the picture of Claire, imagining all the things the reporter must be saying about her in his rehearsed yet sympathetic voice-over: what a great athlete she was, how she loved doing anything to challenge herself, and what a loyal friend she could be, even to someone she hardly knew.
My head falls forward.
“You okay?” Zoe asks. I’m trembling, my body shaking along with my hand. A wave of sadness threatens to sink me, but I can’t let it, because then I won’t be able to help anyone.
“Yeah,” I respond, giving her a quick reply. If I say any more, I’ll lose it.
Zoe respects my silence, leaving me alone as I do a quick scan, checking on the progress of the other Etherworld survivors who followed Anthony. There are a slew of updates, including one posted late last night about how the authorities are still searching for the kids Claire was last seen with: Wyatt Krissoff and Piper Lewis. There are mentions of Cole Rankin and Anderson Schmidt, the two kids from Miami—who are still in comas—and reports from physicians who still haven’t found anything definitive connecting these brain injuries to the use of Elusion but are warning parents not to let their children access the app until they know for sure.
And then I see a fresh headline that makes my stomach churn.
Daughter of Original Elusion Inventor Admitted to— and Escaped from—Psych Ward of Inner Sector Medical.
I click on it and watch the video of Patrick leading me into the medical pavilion. Thankfully, my face is only partially visible, which means the public might find it hard to identify me. But all anyone would have to do to catch a good glimpse of me is look my name up on the Net and download any number of social media photos, like the ones that were taken at the Elusion release party at the Simmons estate less than a week ago.
Now there’s a target on my back, on top of everything else.
“Finally.” Zoe slams on the brakes and undoes her harness in one sharp movement. “Let’s go.”
My head jerks back up and a few stray tears land on my knees. I wipe off my wet cheeks and get out of my harness, and I’m staring now at the front door of Josh’s trailer. I was just here a couple of days ago, but it feels like a lifetime. He and I were still strangers then, trying to determine whether or not we could trust each other. And now I’m praying he’s here with Avery, up and around and plotting how we’re going to break into Orexis again.
“Come on, Regan,” Zoe urges, as she reaches into the trunk and grabs a canvas tote.
“What’s that?”
“Clothes,” she says. “You need to get cleaned up and changed.”
“Thanks.”
As we sprint up the steps, I envision a reunion with Josh that begins with him smiling, then grabbing me and pulling me into a tight hug. My pulse is skyrocketing as the front door slides open.
“What the hell happened to you?” Avery asks. As usual, she’s wearing her vintage army jacket. Her red, curly hair is tied in a messy knot on top of her head, and her glasses are slipping down the tip of her nose.
I never thought I’d say this, but thank God she’s here.
“She was in a psych ward, among other places,” Zoe answers for me.
“Guess what? I don’t care,” Avery says, and my gratitude is suddenly reduced to zero.
“Well, what have you been doing all night?” I counter. “You didn’t answer any of my texts.”
Avery crosses her arms in front of her chest. “I stayed at the hospital for a few hours, waiting for that girl to come out of surgery. I thought if she woke up, she might be able to tell us something about Nora. I didn’t realize that there wasn’t a signal on my tab until—”
“Wait, you didn’t have a signal that whole time? When did you get my messages?” My voice is really high-pitched, like I’m trying to squeeze the words out of my tightening throat.
Avery casts her eyes down to her scuffed black boots, so she doesn’t have to look at me when she makes her admission. “About twenty minutes ago. I’m sorry. I would have been here sooner, but . . . I didn’t know.”
“Are you saying Josh is still unconscious?” Zoe asks, because I’m standing here in stunned silence.
Avery nods.
I push past Avery and into the trailer. The InstaComm is blaring some ninja movie marathon, which Josh was probably watching before he surprised Patrick and me in Elusion. There’s an unfinished MealFreeze sitting on the kitchenette counter, right next to the photocube I looked at when I first came here.
“Did you try pushing his emergency button?” I ask Avery.
He’s been under trypnosis five hours longer than me. I have no idea what that means for his cortisol levels and if they’re high enough to cause the stimulus overdose that my dad warned me about.
“Yeah, but it didn’t work.”
“You didn’t disconnect him, did you?”
“No way. When I was at the hospital, I overheard some doctors saying that they thought Maureen’s brain injury might’ve been caused by taking off her Equip abruptly instead of weaning her off trypnosis slowly,” Avery says. “I don’t know if they’re right, but I didn’t want to take a chance and do something that could make things worse.”
As I run to Josh’s room, Avery shouts, “Will somebody please tell me what the hell is going on?”
Zoe begins retelling the whole saga I recounted in the car, but when I see Josh lying on his bed, his eyes covered with the visor, an IV drip in one arm, the other arm dangling off the mattress, I can’t hear anything but my heartbeat thudding inside my ears.
I get down on my knees so I can hold Josh’s hand. I move my other hand up to his face, my fingers trailing down the side of his cheek. He doesn’t respond to my touch at all, and for a moment I try to convince myself that he’s just taking a nap, tired from a long day.
Any minute now, he’ll wake up, I think.
But seconds tick by without any motion, except for the scrambling footsteps that flood the trailer. Soon Zoe and Avery are both in Josh’s room with me. When I turn around, I can tell by the frozen look on Avery’s face that she’s been blindsided by everything she just learned.
“You saw Nora?” she asks me.
“Yes,” I reply.
Avery kneels down next to me. “Is she okay? How did she look? Do you know where she is?”
“The last time I saw her, she seemed fine, but . . .” I swallow hard. “She never told me where she was when she disappeared.”
Avery’s shoulders slump forward; her lower lip trembles. We’re both silent, not knowing what to do next. Thankfully Zoe is here to keep us moving, even though sitting with Josh feels like all that I can manage.
“Avery, did you hook Josh up to this IV?” she asks.
“Yeah, I was hoping that getting some fluids in him would help,” Avery replies, her voice softer than I’ve ever known it to be.
“Great idea. Where did you find an IV?” Zoe places her hand on Avery’s shoulder, as if trying to help her get her strength back.
“Nora had a few in her room,” she explains. “And I watched a tutorial on the Net to figure out how to use it.”
I think back to the first time Josh took me to the warehouse out by the HyperSoar hangars, where he tried to show me evidence that would convince me that people were becoming addicted to Elusion, overriding the safety mechanisms and hooking themselves up to IVs so that they could stay in there for hours—sometimes days. Nora had been one of them.
I press my lips to Josh’s forehead, willing him to wake. “Come back to me, please,” I whisper.
“He hasn’t moved or said anything, but his pulse seems strong.” Avery stands back up again, adjusting her jacket as if it will help her regain her composure. “He could be in worse shape, so that has to be a good sign.”
She could be right. I remember what my dad said when we were at the mines—once the destruction protocol was complete, everyone would be released from Elusion’s powerful trance. Josh is going to be okay; I know it. He’ll walk away from this once my father’s attack plans are carried out. But until then, we’ll have to keep him as safe and protected as possible.
“So what now?” Zoe asks. “Do we take him to the hospital?”
“The doctors still haven’t figured out a treatment,” Avery says, annoyed. “And even with all these incidents, they can’t prove that Elusion caused any of it.”
“That might not matter,” Zoe explains. “My father got a call from another investor who told him about nanopsychosis. Word is spreading. Who knows, they could pull the app off the market any minute now.”
Avery coughs up a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, really? Then why did Cathryn give a statement herself last night assuring everyone that Elusion is safe and they’re releasing it nationally as planned? The bastards at the CIT were right there with her, standing by her side.”
“So you weren’t the one who released the info from the memo?” I ask.
Avery shakes her head. “I wanted to, but I always check with Josh first. I tried texting him earlier, but he didn’t answer, so I just thought he was tied up with you.”
Patrick. He has to be the one alerting the stockholders to what’s really happening. Maybe he’s plotting some kind of sneak attack on Orexis that will force them to stop the national release of Elusion in a couple of days?
“What do you want to do, Regan?” Zoe asks.
“I think we need to keep Josh here, hooked up to the Equip, and monitor him closely.” I place my hand on his chest and feel the rhythm of his heart under my palm. “My dad says that once the program is destroyed, everyone who is trapped in this trance state will wake up.”
Avery props her hands on her hips. “So we just sit here and wait?”
“I can’t stay.” I slowly pull myself away from Josh and stand up, my legs unsteady. “My dad is being held hostage at Orexis. I have to find him.”
“Good idea. Then the police will get involved and blow this whole scandal wide open,” Zoe says.
“Yeah, and maybe the cops will do more to help us find the missing,” Avery says hopefully. Then she gives me the once-over and scowls. “But how’re you going to get into Orexis covered in dust and wearing your pajamas?”
“I brought her some clothes, Avery, so chill.” Zoe smiles and holds up the tote.
“What I don’t have is a passcard,” I say. I used my dad’s to sneak in once before, but it’s at my house, and I can’t go back there now. Mom will be looking for me, and so will the police.
“I have a passcard with clearance,” Zoe says, pulling one out of her jeans. “All I had to do was dig through two suit pockets.”
“Wait, are you saying you—?”
“Borrowed this from my father? Yeah, sure. That works.”
I’m amazed by Zoe’s abundance of foresight. She is coming through in ways I never would have imagined.
“I hate to piss on this happy moment,” Avery says, smirking at Zoe, “but your dad’s passcard is only going to get Regan into the building. I doubt he’ll have access to the room she needs.”
Zoe’s face falls as she realizes that Avery has a point. “Where is your father exactly?” she asks me.
“He’s in one of the research labs.”
“Shit,” Zoe says. “Dad’s card is probably only good for the executive suites and some of the conference rooms.”
“If I can get inside, maybe I can steal a passcard from someone else,” I say. It sounds ludicrous, but I can’t afford to lose faith now.
“That’s the worst plan in the world,” Avery says, right on cue. “And even if you found someone else who has access to the labs, Cathryn probably had Bryce integrate some kind of special code into the lockpad.”
“Look, we all know how great you are at shooting ideas down, but why don’t you try coming up with a solution for once?” I snap.
“You want a solution? I’ll give you a solution.” Avery pulls her tab out of her jeans. “I’m going to call Giblin.”
“Who the hell is Giblin?” Zoe asks.
“A guy I know,” she replies. “He’s got connections that we could use right now, and he owes me one, so he’ll help us out.” She wanders out into the hall, typing on her tab, and I glance over at Josh, my stomach tying into a knot. I try to remember that Avery is his friend, and that without her, we never would have decrypted the files on the QuTap I used to hack into Patrick’s quantum computer at Orexis the other day. I try to remember when he told me that we were going to get through this together.
The room seems empty all of a sudden, even though Zoe is standing next to me, watching m
e stare at Josh. But then the quiet is smashed when I hear Avery calling out to me from the other room, her voice booming.
“Congratulations! I just saved your ass!”
Ten minutes later, I go into the small bathroom at the end of the trailer and change into Zoe’s clothes, yanking on a pair of jeans that are about a size too small and an inch too long. The hooded knit sweater she gave me doesn’t fit right either— there’s a lot of room in the chest—but at least the fabric is extra soft and almost like fur. The boots she lent me are perfect, but the heel makes them a little impractical. I’m just glad not to be in paper shoes and pajamas anymore.
I glance at my reflection. It’s funny—I’ve spent a good chunk of the last eight hours unconscious from either trypnosis or hospital drugs, and yet I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired. I could probably curl up on the floor right here and fall asleep for days, but I won’t let the fatigue set in. I pinch my cheeks so hard I turn them pink. My eyes snap open a little more too, as my thoughts wander back to the last time I was holed up in a bathroom.
It was the other night. At my house.
Josh and I had just returned from our first trip to the Mount Arvon Escape, where we’d shared a kiss inside an ice cave that looked as if it had been built out of frozen emeralds.
I touch my mouth, remembering how it felt to have his lips pressed against mine, his hands gripping my waist, the warmth of his breath on my face. I’m startled by a hard knock on the door, followed by the loud roar of a truck’s engine.
“Hurry up,” Avery barks. “He’s here.”
I step out of the bathroom, expecting to see Avery outside, waiting to harass me some more, but she’s already welcoming Giblin, a tall, lanky, baby-faced guy with a ponytail longer than mine. He’s wearing a ratty blue T-shirt and has ink-black hair, a piercing in his left eyebrow, and a tattoo of a Chinese dragon on his forearm. In his hand is an industrial-size brown duffel bag that could easily fit a dead body.
He notices me and juts his chin out, which I guess is his version of a hello. “Did you order the house call?” he asks, his voice not as rough as I thought it might be.
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