The Prisoner of Cell 25

by Richard Paul Evans

“She’s my sister.”

  “She’s your twin,” Ian said. “She was younger than most of us when they started with her. She couldn’t fully grasp what she was being asked to do until it was too late.”

  Taylor tried to move but the pain made her groan out.

  “Just stay still. Nichelle’s drained the juice out of you. It takes a while to come back.” He left her side, then returned with a cup of water. “Have something to drink. It helps.”

  Ian guided the cup to Taylor’s lips. She drank thirstily.

  When she had finished drinking she asked, “Did they do this to you?”

  “Yes. Many times. But not as bad. I think they mostly keep me here because my powers aren’t as aggressive, so I’m not as valuable to them. That and because I’m blind.”

  “You’re blind?”

  “My eyes are. I’m not.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I can see, just not with my eyes. I see the same ways sharks and electric eels see; through electrolocation. Instead of using light waves to see, I use electric waves.”

  Taylor remembered learning about that in biology.

  “Electrolocation has its advantages. Like, it doesn’t matter if it’s day or night and I can see through solid objects. You can too, of course—as long as the object permits light waves to pass through them, like glass or ice; but most solids don’t. I can see through anything electrons can pass through.”

  “You can see outside these walls?”

  “I can see outside the school. Unless Nichelle’s around. Then I’m blind.”

  “Can you see me?”

  “Yes. You look just like Tara.” Ian sat back on his haunches. “I have no way of comparing my sight to yours, since I’ve never seen through my eyes. But I have a pretty good idea of the difference between your sight and mine. I can also see Glows and I can see how power is used.”

  “Like Hatch’s glasses,” Taylor said.

  Ian nodded. “Yeah. They studied me to learn how to make them.

  You know, this place is a laboratory. They’re constantly doing experiments.”

  “Nichelle said they’re going to dissect me.”

  “A dead Glow does them no good. She just knows how to frighten you. It’s what she’s good at.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Three years.”

  Taylor began to cry. “I can’t do it.”

  “You will. You’re stronger than you think you are.”

  Taylor buried her head in her hands.

  “I want to introduce you to the others.”

  “There’s others here?”

  Ian smiled. “Like I said, there’s three of us.”

  In spite of the pain,Taylor lifted her head and looked around. To her surprise there were two other girls. One was Chinese. The other was a blond with eyes blue enough that Taylor could see them in the room’s lighting. Both of them were glowing.

  “That’s McKenna,” Ian said.

  The Chinese girl nodded. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” Taylor said.

  “And that’s Abigail,” Ian said.

  “Hello,” Taylor said.

  Abigail knelt down next to her. “Hi Taylor. I’m going to touch you,” she said softly. “It won’t hurt. I promise.” Abigail gently pressed her hand against Taylor’s back and Taylor felt a light wave pass through her body, taking with it all her pain and fear.

  Taylor exhaled with relief. “What are you doing to me?”

  “I’m taking away your pain for a moment.”

  “You’re healing me?”

  Abigail shook her head. “No. I can’t do that. I can only take away pain while I’m touching you. But when I stop it will come back.”

  “It feels so good right now.”

  “I’ll do it for as long as I can,” she said kindly. “It takes effort, but maybe I can hold out long enough for you to fall asleep.”

  “Thank you, Abigail.”

  “You can call me Abi.”

  “Thank you, Abi.”

  “You’re welcome. Now try to get to sleep.”

  Taylor closed her eyes and buried her head in her arms. Before she fell asleep she said, “I love you, Abi.”

  Abigail smiled. “I love you too.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Breaking into Prison

  We arrived in Pasadena a little after nine. I was asleep in the backseat of the Camaro, lying across Ostin. I woke when we stopped for gas and to change drivers. Wade’s eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he was about to pass out. He stumbled into the gas station to use the bathroom.

  “Where are we?” I asked Jack.

  “We’re in Pasadena,” he said. “I need the school’s address.”

  “I’ve got it.” I handed Jack the brochure, then got out of the car and stretched. The California air was moist and warm and in spite of my worries, it felt good. I looked in the back window and saw that Ostin was still snoring, so I went inside the gas station. I got two bottles of strawberry-flavored milk and a box of doughnuts. I knew Ostin would be hungry when he woke.

  Wade had climbed in the back and already fallen asleep.

  “Wade was pretty tired,” I said.

  “Yeah, he was. We would have been here sooner but he stopped in Lancaster and slept for two hours,” Jack said. “Are you ready?”

  I was blinking pretty hard. “No. Probably never will be. Let’s go.”

  Jack smiled. “Nice.”

  Pasadena was lush and green with palm trees everywhere. I was eight when my mother and I moved from California and I hadn’t been back since. The city already seemed foreign to me.

  “Take Colorado Boulevard to South Allen,” I said. “Then turn right.”

  Jack followed my directions and in a few minutes we were on Allen Avenue. “That’s the place,” I said. “It looks just like the picture.

  Except for the prison fence.”

  Jack parked the car at a gas station about a half block from the school. “Wade, wake up,” he said.

  “Who . . .”

  “We’re here.”

  Ostin woke as well and habitually started searching for his glasses.

  He had fallen asleep wearing them and I had picked them up off the car floor.

  “Here you go,” I said, handing them to him.

  “Where are we?” he asked.

  “The school,” I said.

  Ostin looked out at the building. “That’s a school?”

  “Looks more like a prison than a school,” Wade said groggily.

  “How are we going to get inside?” Ostin asked. “The fence is at least twelve feet high and there’s barbed wire.”

  “And the entrance is guarded,” Wade added.

  “Getting in is not going to be easy,” Ostin said. I think he meant

  “possible” instead of “easy.”

  Jack shook his head. “He’s right, man. What are you going to do?”

  I looked out at the building for a few more moments then I sighed. “Well, it’s not your problem. You got us here.” I reached into my pocket and took out the rest of the money. “Here’s the rest.”

  Jack took it without counting. “Thanks. Good luck.”

  “Thanks. C’mon, Ostin,” I said.

  As we were climbing out of the car Jack said, “Look.”

  I turned back toward the building. A white food services truck was passing through the gate. “Get back inside, I have an idea.”

  We climbed back in and Jack started up the Camaro.

  “What’s your idea?” I asked.

  He put on his sunglasses, then pulled out into the street. “We’re going to borrow that van.”

  “Borrow?” Ostin said.

  “This is life and death, right?” Jack said.

  “Absolutely,” I replied.

  We followed the van at a distance for about six miles, until it pulled into a parking lot, where there was a fleet of identical vans.

  Two men climbed out and walked i
nto the building. As soon as they were out of sight Jack said, “Wade, follow us in the car.” He looked at Ostin and me. “Let’s go.”

  Jack, Ostin, and I ran, slightly stooped, to the van. I figured we’d have to break the window to get in, but the van was unlocked and we quickly climbed in. Jack checked on top of the visor, then in the ashtray for a spare key but didn’t find one. He pulled out a pocketknife, reached under the dash, and began sorting through wires. It only took a few minutes for him to hotwire the car. “These old vans are easy picking,” he said.

  “Where’d you learn to do that?” I asked.

  “I’m not a car thief, if you’re wondering. My old man’s a mechanic.”

  “I wasn’t wondering,” I said. “Just impressed.”

  Jack drove out of the lot without drawing any attention. There was a CB radio mounted below the dashboard. Jack reached down and switched it on. “Better keep it on,” he said. “So we know when they discover the van’s missing.”

  Ostin was sitting in the back of the van with a bunch of metal trays stacked on a trolley. He lifted a lid. “Hmm. Chicken cordon bleu,” he said.

  “Don’t steal food,” I said.

  “We just stole their van,” Ostin said. “I don’t think they’ll care about a few leftovers. Besides, it might be my last meal.”

  “He’s got a point,” Jack said. “If they don’t let us in the gate, we’re screwed.”

  “What’s our story?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?” Jack asked.

  “I doubt they’re expecting the food service people back so soon.

  We better have a story.”

  “I’ve got one,” Ostin said. “Tell them we left a stack of trays with chicken cordon bleu in the kitchen and it will stink up the place if we don’t get it back.”

  “Not bad,” I said. “I wonder if we’ll need ID.” I began looking around the van for paperwork or a badge but didn’t find anything.

  “Nothing. All we’ve got is the story.”

  “We can make it work,” Jack said.

  Ostin said, “Hey, look at these.” In a back compartment there was a stack of white food service smocks and a sack of paper serving hats.

  “Uniforms.”

  Ostin lifted the smocks and hats out of the drawer and handed one to me and two to Jack. Even the smallest smock looked like a dress on me, but I put it on anyway. We drove back to the gas station parking lot, where Wade hopped out of the Camaro and climbed into the front seat of the van.

  “Put these on,” Jack said, handing Wade a smock and hat.

  “Sweet,” Wade said.

  We circled the block and headed for the school. “Ready for this?”

  Jack asked.

  “Yeah.” I said from the back.

  “No problem,” Ostin said, looking terrified.

  Jack pulled into the driveway and slowly up to the guard shack.

  The guard, a stern, powerful-looking man in a navy blue security uniform, wore a gun at his hip. “What’s up?”

  Jack looked surprisingly calm. “Sorry, we left a couple trays of blue chicken in the kitchen.”

  The guard’s brow furrowed. “What?”

  “You know, blue chicken, delicious from the oven but give it an hour out of the refrigerator and it’s going to be stinkin’ to high heaven. Stink up the kitchen, the dining area, the whole building.

  That blue chicken is stinky. Whoo. Diaper stinky.”

  The guard looked at him for a moment, then grinned. “All right.

  Go get your stinky chicken.”

  “Thanks.”

  The gate opened and we drove through.

  “Blue chicken?” Ostin said. “It’s chicken cordon bleu.”

  “Whatever,” Jack said. “It worked.”

  He drove around the side of the building. We weren’t exactly sure where to go, but since there was only one open garage we pulled into it. In the back of it there was a door guarded by a man with a gun.

  “Whoa,” I said. “We’ve got another guard.”

  “Worse,” Ostin said. “See that plate by the door? It’s a magnetic switch. It’s like my dad’s office: you can’t get anywhere without a card. No card, no entry. You better find something.”

  I looked through the glove compartment. “Nothing,” I said.

  “What do I do?” Jack asked. “Pull in?”

  “We have to now,” I said, “or they’ll know something’s up.”

  “Maybe we could offer the guy some food,” Ostin said.

  “Do you think of anything else?” Wade said.

  “Wait,” I said, “He might be on to something. We’ll carry the trays in and ask the guy to open the door for us.”

  Ostin sneered at Wade.

  “Whatever we’re doing,” Jack said, “we better do it fast. ’Cause we’re here.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  A New Glow

  “Taylor.”

  Taylor slowly rolled over, again feeling the pain in her body. Ian was kneeling next to her.

  “They’re listening to us, so talk softly. Do you know about the last electrochild?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There were seventeen of us. They found all but two, you and one other.”

  “Michael,” she said. “His name is Michael. Why?”

  “There’s a new Glow outside the compound.”

  “What does he look like?”

  “He’s small, but the electricity around him is wild. Is he good or bad?”

  “He’s good.”

  Ian nodded. “Let’s hope he stays that way.”

  “What’s he doing?”

  “He’s with three other teenagers. I think they’re trying to find a way in.”

  “We need to warn him that Hatch knows he’s coming. Can you warn him?”

  Ian shook his head. “No. I can only see.”

  Taylor covered her eyes. “I’ve failed him. I’ve failed everyone.”

  “This isn’t your fault, Taylor. You’re a good person.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because you’re down here.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Discovery

  Jack slowly pulled the van into the parking bay, put it in park, and killed the engine. The guard watched us intensely.

  “Ready Ostin?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said, looking very unready.

  I slid open the side door and stepped out. I grabbed one of the metal containers, then started to the building’s entrance. The guard’s eyes were glued to me and his hand hovered above his gun. When I was a couple of yards from him he said, “Stop.”

  I stopped. “Yes, sir.”

  “Where’s your ID?” he asked.

  I struggled to control my tics. “Sorry, it’s in my pocket. Would you mind getting the door for me?”

  His expression didn’t change. “I need to see your ID.”

  “You recognize me, don’t you? We talked last week.”

  “I wasn’t here last week,” he said.

  I gulped. “It must have been another guard. In those glasses you all look alike.”

  “Your ID.”

  I sighed. “Okay. Here, it’s just in my pocket. Hold this for one second.”

  Jack opened his door and started to get out of the van. “Is there a problem?”

  The guard turned to him, “Get back in the van. I need his ID and your ID.”

  “I’m getting it,” I said. “Just give me a hand.” I pushed the tray toward the guard. He put his hands out, pushing back against the metal tray. “I’m not going to . . .”

  I surged. His mouth opened but before he could make a sound he dropped to the ground unconscious. I set the tray on the ground.

  “Whoa,” Jack said. “I’m glad you didn’t hit us with that much juice.”

  “It was only half,” I said. “I’m getting more electric.”

  Ostin jumped out of the van. “Good job, dude.”

  “Don’t start high-fi
ving yet.” I took the lanyard from the man’s neck, then looked through his pockets for anything else we could use.

  I pulled out a thick plastic card. “What’s this?”

  “That’s a magnetic key,” Ostin said. I held up the lanyard. “Then what’s this?”

  “Either a duplicate or you need two different keys.”

  “Now what?” Jack asked.

  “Tie him up in the van and get ready to roll. Ostin and I will go find my mom and Taylor and bring them here.”

  “On it,” Jack said. “Good luck, dude.”

  “Thanks for your help.”

  “I wasn’t going to let you have all the fun.”

  I took the magnetic key on his lanyard and swiped it across the black pad. The red diode turned green and the lock clicked. “We’re in.”

  I pushed open the door. Inside was a long, brightly lit corridor with surveillance cameras on both ends. Ostin and I stepped inside.

  “I’ve got the feeling we’re being watched,” Ostin said.

  “Just act cool,” I said. “They’ll just think we’re food service guys.” I kept walking. “Where do you think she is?”

  “Where does the dog hide the bone?”

  “Just talk normal,” I said.

  “Find an elevator.”

  There was an elevator at the end of the hall. Inside the buttons were. 4-3-2-l-GL-D.

  “What’s GL?” I asked.

  “Ground level, or garden level if they’re being fancy. Push D.”

  “What’s D?”

  “I have no idea. But it’s below GL.”

  I pushed the button but nothing happened. Outside I could hear footsteps coming down the hall.

  “Look, it needs a key. Try yours.”

  I shoved it in the slot but nothing happened. The footsteps got closer.

  “Try the other key.”

  I switched keys and the elevator door shut. “That’s it.”

  The elevator began moving down. It stopped just a few seconds later and the door opened. I stuck my head out. We were in another corridor. The overhead lights must have been on dimmer switches because they were barely illuminated. Also there were thick metal doors spaced every fifteen or twenty feet that looked a little like the door to the refrigerated room in the back of the grocery store where my mom worked. There were metal boxes outside each door with bright green diodes. The hall was empty but there were security cameras mounted at each end of the hall. It was eerie being in such a large building and seeing no one.