by Shay Lynam
Still the boy didn’t respond. His eyes met mine and it hit me how full of sorrow they were. “I don’t think Emma made it, Ben,” I said without breaking eye contact.
As we headed back to the Tree House, we still didn’t know the kid’s name. We didn’t know why he was at the house. We didn’t know why he hadn’t been taken along with Emma and her parents, but I had an idea of why we found him hanging from the ceiling. The guy came with us willingly but kept his mouth shut, hands in his pockets and head down the whole ride back. I could tell by the way Ben tapped his thumb on the steering wheel and kept looking in the rear view mirror that he was frustrated at the lack of answers we were getting. I was just relieved that we had gotten someone. Finally, we weren’t going to get back to Sy and David and Root empty handed. I seemed to be the only one happy about this.
When we’d walked in the back door and gone up to the main floor, a look of absolute confusion was written across the others’ faces. Nobody said anything until I had finally mentioned that the kid may need to have his neck looked at. It looked badly bruised and the cord had left a shallow cut that had bled a little.
“What’s your problem,” I asked Ben after the room had cleared. “We found someone.”
Ben sat down on one of the couches Sy had found and put in a circle around a fire pit. “It’s not the same,” he replied tossing his gun onto the cushion next to him. “He may not even be a patient. We just kept some random guy from killing himself.”
“It’s still a life, Ben,” I snapped narrowing my eyes. “He’s just as valuable as any of us.”
Our argument was cut short when Root cleared his throat causing both of us to jump startled. Neither of us had realized he’d come back into the room but he somehow had slipped into his chair at the table. His hands rested on the laptop Sy had supplied him when he’d gotten here.
“Even though Jack is right,” he started without looking away from the screen. “This kid is, in fact, a patient from Eli’s microchip trial.”
Ben glanced at me for a second. “What?” he asked and went to look over Root’s shoulder at the computer screen.
I followed after him and leaned over Root’s other shoulder so I could get a good look at the file. “Logan Carter,” I read out loud. “What was he doing at Emma’s house?”
“She’s my sister.”
The three of us turned around to find Logan standing at the bottom of the steps that led up to the third floor. He was slouched over, and his face was still pale but not as deathly as it had been when we first found him. There was a white bandage covering one side of his neck where the cord had cut him.
“How does that work?” Root asked pushing his glasses up his nose.
Logan walked over to the couches and sat down on one of them. “Easy,” he said and started picking at a loose thread. “Her dad was single. My mom was single. They met at one of our doctor’s appointments and ended up getting married.” Then he tossed the thread onto the floor and stared down at it for a minute. “You guys should have let me die,” he whispered. “They took my family from me while I hid like a coward.” Root, Ben and I all exchanged looks but none of us said anything. Logan buried his head in his hands and didn’t move from the couch for the rest of the day.
The next morning, I opened my eyes to gray light filtering in through the window. I sat up to find Ben’s bed empty. It wasn’t that big of a surprise. He was always getting up before me. When I walked over to the window and peered out through the gaps in the boards, I felt something in my chest. It surprised me at first but then it nestled down into my stomach and began warming my insides. After having failed for so long, after walking into so many places and seeing so much blood, after feeling so completely pathetic and helpless for so long I had gotten used to waking up to the cold feeling of dread. But after yesterday, after finally finding someone alive, even if it wasn’t exactly our doing, I was surprised to find a small spark of hope deep within me.
When I went upstairs, Root was looking around in the refrigerator for something to eat. He had sort of made the little kitchen area his home. His laptop sat on the table and for the most part he stayed in his chair, his face lit by the screen. When he wasn’t on the laptop gathering information on the next patient we needed to find, he was rummaging for food and making us all meals while trying to keep those glasses of his in place. It was a bit amusing watching him. Almost like a little kid working on a science project. It was hard to believe he was our age.
Ben came down the stairs from the third floor with Logan sulking behind him. The two of them were talking about something but I wasn’t sure what until Logan nodded and went to sit down at the table across from Root. He had a small laptop under his arm and I watched as he put it on the table in front of him.
“Sy thought it would be a good idea for Logan to help track down patients,” Ben said after he had come to stand by me. “You know,” my brother muttered, “to distract him a bit.”
I sighed but I couldn’t help feeling a bit optimistic. “The guy had his whole family taken right in front of his eyes,” I said so Logan couldn’t hear me. “I don’t think anything is going to be enough of a distraction.”
Root did his best to keep Logan occupied though there was no use trying to distract him. Judging by the way his shoulders slumped and his mouth was set in a permanent frown, staring at a computer screen all day wasn’t keeping thoughts of his family away. I felt bad for the guy. At least I’d had a few days alone to deal with everything. Ben had a couple days in London and Root had never been very close with his parents much anyway. But Logan seemed like he’d had a pretty solid family life, which made it all even more tragic.
* * *
Keeta Parsons was a force to be reckoned with. Ben and I had gone to her apartment near one of the colleges to find it empty and trashed. My first thought was that we had been too late, yet again. But there wasn’t the same feeling in the air that there had been at all the other places. My brother and I searched every inch of the place for blood. There was always blood, but not this time.
“It looks more like the suits were searching for her,” Ben said nudging an overturned side table with his shoe.
I opened my mouth to comment when the jingle of keys came from out in the hall. Both Ben and I had our guns out in a second, though mine was more for show since I still hadn’t worked up the nerve to learn how to use it yet.
A man with his hood up and headphones in his ears stepped through the door and closed it behind him before looking up. As soon as his eyes lifted, he froze and his keys clattered to the floor. Slowly, he pulled his headphones out of his ears. “Uh…?”
“Where’s Keeta Parsons?” Ben asked, his expression a sharp edged blade. I wondered if this was the same look he gave to the patients right before he killed them in London.
“I-I don’t know. She’s not answering her phone,” the guy replied stuttering nervously as his eyes darted from Ben and me to our guns then to the black backpack on my shoulder. “What’s in the bag?”
I lowered my gun slowly. “Supplies. What’s your name?” I asked trying to keep my voice calm.
The man’s focus shifted to my face and I immediately noticed his shoulders relax a bit. “I’m, uh, Luke. Keeta’s boyfriend.” Then he looked again at the gun in Ben’s hand. “C-could you not point that at me?”
My brother stared Luke down, his eyes just slits. Finally, he dropped his arm and the guy breathed deeply. “Do you know where she is?” he asked, his voice still demanding.
“He just said he didn’t know, Ben,” I said irritated. “Lay off a bit.” This seriously felt like good cop, bad cop.
I could see the muscles working in my brother’s jaw as he tapped a finger against his gun. This was such a different person from the one I had taken to the airport with our parents just a year ago. He seemed so much more moody and intense. Though I guess the things he’d gone through would be enough to change anyone.
Just then a buzzing sound erupted from Luke�
��s pants. He reached into his pocket clumsily and pulled out his phone. “It’s Keeta,” he said staring at the screen.
“Well?” Ben urged with his teeth clenched together.
Luke bit his lip. “I don’t really want to tell you guys,” he said. “I mean, look what you did to our apartment.”
“We didn’t trash your apartment,” I said. “Whoever is out to get her did.”
I watched as all the color drained from his face and his mouth fell open. “Someone’s out to get her?” he whispered.
“Yeah, so unless you want a dead girlfriend, we need to know where she is,” Ben said with annoyance tinting his words.
Luke stared down at his phone again and bit at his lip nervously. Finally, he raked a hand through his hair. “She’s at her parents’ house,” he muttered then stepped out of the doorway.
Without another word, the two of us started out the door leaving Luke standing in his torn apart living room.
Once we hit the street, I headed for the car but Ben turned the other way. “Where are we going?” I asked jogging to catch up with him.
“Traffic is too heavy and the suits got a head start,” he said veering down an alley. The two of us stopped at the bottom of a ladder and he put his gun into the back of his pants. “We need to take a shortcut.”
I watched as my brother climbed expertly up toward the roof. “We’re doing this again?” I asked feeling a rock settle in my stomach.
“Come on!” Ben called from halfway up. I let out a loud sigh, hefted the backpack up on my shoulders and started up after him.
I won’t lie, though I also wouldn’t admit it to Ben, it was pretty fun running and jumping across the rooftops. All I needed was a skin tight suit and the ability to shoot webs from my wrist and I’d be a superhero.
When the buildings started getting too far apart, we had to climb down and trek on foot. This made Ben nervous, especially since we didn’t know what state Keeta had been in when she’d sent her boyfriend that text. He decided though that it would be better than driving. Mainly because we didn’t want heavy traffic to be the reason we didn’t get to someone in time.
Keeta’s parents lived only a mile away in Lower Queen Anne and it took us no time at all to get there. The running was getting easier but the backpack was heavy and I found myself wheezing by the time we made it to the house. Ben wasn’t breathing as heavily but his hair was plastered to his forehead and his shoulders were going up and down so I knew he was tired out too.
We made our way around to the back of the house, looking in all the windows as we passed them. When I glanced into one of the ones near the back, I quickly ducked my head down. Ben was behind me and nudged my arm inquisitively. I nodded my head up toward the window and we slowly straightened up again to look inside. Half the room was blocked out by a black jacket. The hand hanging to the side of the jacket held a shiny, black pistol. Ben cursed under his breath and leaned back against the house.
“We’re too late again,” he muttered more to himself.
“I don’t think so,” I whispered back causing him to look up again. I was still watching through the window. The suit that had been standing in front of us was now crossing the room into the kitchen. Another suit came down the stairs and yelled something incoherent to the other. “I think they’re looking for her,” I said. “Keeta’s still safe.”
Ben pushed off the wall and continued down the side of the house. “Then we need to get rid of them before they find her,” he said pulling his gun out from under his jacket. Without a word I followed him into the backyard. A black pile of fur lay in front of the back door. It only took me a second to figure out it was a dog and another second to figure out the dog was dead. Those jerks.
The kitchen was visible through the back door. It was empty at the moment. Slowly, Ben crept toward the door and I followed behind, being careful to step over the dog. There was a small gap and we slipped through as quietly as we could. Though with the amount of noise the two suits were making tearing the place apart, we could have gone stomping in and they still wouldn’t have heard us.
“Keeta Parsons!” one of them yelled from the other room. “We don’t want to hurt you. Just come with us and you’ll be fine.”
That was a lie. Judging by her lack of response, she knew it too.
“So is there a plan or what?” I whispered as I crouched next to Ben behind the counter and dropped the backpack. He looked down at the tiled floor in front of us.
“I’m thinking,” he muttered.
As the two of us sat there and Ben fiddled with his gun in thought, the two suits continued to make a ruckus in the rest of the house, arguing and slamming doors.
“Think faster, Ben. Tap into that assassin mind set of yours.”
“Shut up,” Ben hissed. “It’s not like you have the balls to use that gun anyway.” Then he got to his feet and started for the door to the living room before I could respond. “You go that way,” he said motioning toward the stairs leading to the second floor behind me. “I’ll try to get the suits. You look for Keeta.”
I nodded, still feeling the sting from his remark. Ben stood there, apparently waiting for me to go up the stairs, so I started up as quietly and quickly as I could. Just as I set my foot down on the last step up, the bottom floor erupted with gunshots. I froze until they stopped. There was only silence after that. “Ben?” I yelled as I raced back down. I burst through the kitchen door into the living room to find my brother standing in the middle of the room. My eyes skimmed across his clothes but I didn’t see any holes or blood. “You alright?” I asked him breathlessly.
Ben nodded then his eyes darted to the floor on either side of me. A dead suit lay to my left and right. Their guns were smoking and blood soaked the fronts of their shirts.
“Let’s go find Keeta,” my brother said out of breath and started up the stairs. It was hard not to notice the way he tried to hide a limp and I glanced down at his leg to find a dark red stain spreading across the calf of his pants.
“Ben.”
“I’m fine,” he snapped and kept going ahead of me.
I had climbed too many staircases over the previous couple months with the feeling of failure in my gut. It was weird to feel like maybe this one was going to turn out alright. Finally. But as we looked in each room, the cold, bitter feeling was starting to set in as well as the thought that maybe, for some odd reason, she hadn’t made it. What if Keeta had gotten hurt and was now bleeding out in a closet somewhere? Were we going to stumble upon her pale, lifeless body and have to go back to the Tree House empty handed again?
The two of us stopped at the end of the hallway in front of a ladder leading up to the attic. “Think she’s up there?” I asked Ben, peering up into the darkness.
My brother shrugged. “Where else could she be?” Then he put his gun away and placed a hand on a rung of the ladder, wincing when he tried to lift his injured leg
I nudged him out of the way. “Let me,” I said and started up the ladder before he could protest.
It was dark up in the attic and I had to reach my arm out to keep from running into anything. My fingers brushed solid wood and I ran my hand along the wall until I felt a light switch.
“Anything?” Ben called from down below.
“Hang on,” I called back and flipped the switch. The big room was flooded with light, but I didn’t have much time to look around before I was knocked in the side of the head with something hard and the floor came up to meet me.
“Who are you!”
“Jack?”
I blinked hard a couple times as the sound of my brother coming up the ladder pulled me quickly back to reality. My cheekbone was burning where I had been hit and I felt a bit disoriented but I managed to flip around to see who had hit me.
The tip of a bat jabbed into my cheek. “Who are you?”
My eyes lifted from the bat and met the narrowed eyes of the girl from the picture in the file. “Keeta Parsons?” My brother asked from beh
ind me.
“Answer my question,” she demanded and rammed the bat into my bruised face again. I pulled back and tried to swat it away. Instead, one fluid motion, she pushed me flat onto my back and slammed her foot down onto my chest.
“Well aren’t you just a fun filled frikin’ lollipop triple dipped in psycho.” I coughed.
“Answer my question,” she repeated raising her voice angrily and glared down at me with eyes that were only a few shades darker than her skin. A silver hoop gleamed on her bottom lip. Her hair was a mess of dark brown curls. She’d obviously been running.
“We killed those suits for you,” I wheezed as her shoe pressed down hard on my lungs.
“Who killed them?” Ben muttered putting his gun away again. Keeta broke eye contact with me to look at my brother. Then she stepped back off my chest. Air rushed into my lungs and I coughed hard as I sat up.
She touched the thick end of the bat to her palm. “What did they want?”
“To kill you,” I croaked. “Good thing we were here or you might be dead right now.”
“I can take care of myself,” Keeta snapped throwing daggers at me with her glare.
A pained smile pulled at the corner of my brother’s mouth. Of course he found this comical. I got to my feet quickly feeling something warm trickling down my cheek. “Was that really necessary?” I muttered wiping the blood from my stinging face.
Keeta shrugged, her eyes shining with amusement. “Hey, I didn’t know what you wanted.” Then she looked at Ben. “Actually, I still don’t.”
“It’s a long story,” my brother explained. “But if you come with us, you’ll be safer than if you stay here.”
“What about my parents?” she asked.
Ben and I glanced at each other. “Chances are you’ll never see them again,” he said shaking his head. “It’s just something you’re going to have to get used to.” Then he turned and started back down the ladder.
Keeta’s mouth hung open like she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite spit it out. She looked shocked. “Hey, I’m sorry,” I uttered and reached out to touch her arm.