Nine

by Zach Hines

  Or this was her hope, at least.

  “All right,” Nicholas said, pocketing the data stick. “I bring the robes and slip you the stick. Then we’re off to the Spoof elevator. But that’s the end of my involvement. I’m walking away after that. And Julian,” he turned to him, glaring up from a low angle, “you’re deleting the evidence of my number.”

  “That’s right,” Julian said.

  Nicholas studied him for a long moment, probably trying to imagine a world where Julian didn’t keep his word. Finally, he released a theatrical sigh and said, “You remember when I first asked you to join the Burners? I told you I believed in you.”

  Julian nodded.

  “I’m going to choose to keep believing in you right now,” Nicholas said.

  The door to the computer room flew open, and a little girl rushed in—Carly, Julian remembered. Her face was red, and she struggled to get words out among gasping breaths.

  “They’re coming!” she managed to spit out. “Archie saw them! From the hill! Cars and vans full. They’re coming up the road!” She was frantically shifting back and forth on her feet in worry.

  Cody grabbed Carly and held her still. “Who’s coming?”

  “The nurses,” Carly said.

  Cody turned to Julian and Nicholas, her face contorted with fury. “You brought them here!”

  Nicholas looked around the room in alarm. “I don’t know what you are—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said, cutting him off. She rushed to the table and pulled a small safe out from under it. She spun in the code as she shouted over her shoulder to Glen, “Just like we drilled. Take them down the hill and follow the marks to the rendezvous spot.”

  Glen scrambled behind the table, unplugging his computers.

  “But my rig. I need to—”

  “Now!”

  Cody grabbed the little girl. “Listen carefully: just like we practiced, you get everyone out of the house and onto the back porch. Then you’re all following Glen. You do whatever he says. Can you do this?”

  The girl nodded.

  “Go!”

  She took off the way she came. Cody turned to Julian and Nicholas.

  “You two get out here and help round the kids up onto the porch.” Cody grabbed something from the safe and rushed them all out of the room. Glen ran out past them, stuffing a computer tower into a backpack.

  The house was a crash of children. Cody was barking to them to get to the porch and wait for Glen’s orders. She had transformed: she was mission-driven, an army commander every bit the one that her imaginary father was.

  She grabbed Molly and Robbie, who emerged from their rooms confused and worried, and pressed them into service getting the children out of there. Julian helped funnel them all out the door, Nicholas trailing behind him. Through it all, Julian kept an eye on Nicholas, making sure he didn’t disappear in the fracas.

  Outside on the porch, Glen was taking a head count of the children. All sixteen of them were there. Cody ran up to him. “Tell me you have the route to the rendezvous memorized,” she said.

  Glen nodded. “Cody, I’ve got this.”

  “Let’s go!” Glen called out as the kids fell in line behind him. They ran down the hill behind Glen, disappearing into the forest. “Stay close and stay quiet!” he said. “From here, no more talking.”

  Robbie and Molly stood bewildered on the porch. Cody turned Robbie toward her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry for everything that happened.”

  Robbie glared at her, but then his eyes softened.

  “Glen’s going to need some help from someone who knows how to survive out there.”

  Robbie grabbed her. Julian instinctively moved toward them, to break things up—but Robbie only pulled her in for an embrace, and, surprisingly, Cody returned it.

  She touched his face. “Thank you,” she said. “Keep the kids safe.”

  Robbie grabbed Molly. “Let’s go.”

  As she was taken away, Molly looked over at Julian, her face grim and ashen. Julian realized with a sense of finality that, though this girl looked like Molly, really, the Molly he’d known and loved died that night at the Terrible Twos.

  “Julian,” she said. She clearly wanted to say something more—but she couldn’t articulate it, or even fully grasp what it was, a feeling lost forever in the mud beneath the Lake. She just said his name again: “Julian.”

  He nodded to her. She blinked back at him—then she was gone, pushed away by Cody, together with Robbie, corralled down the hill, toward where Glen and the kids had disappeared into the tree line.

  Cody ran over to Nicholas next. “You,” she said, gesturing toward the opposite direction in the forest. “Head down this way. It leads south and eventually connects to Lake Road. As long as you’re going downhill, you’re heading in the right direction. The plan is still on. We’re still breaking into the Lake, and you’re still meeting us there.”

  She urged him on. “Go!”

  Warily, Nicholas made his way toward the forest, away from Glen and the kids.

  Cody then grabbed Julian and pulled him toward the house. “You come with me,” she said.

  “But we can’t get caught,” Julian said. “They’d take us to Attison.”

  “We won’t. But right now, we need to keep them distracted so the kids get some time to run.”

  Cody grabbed a can of gasoline from the side of the porch and the two of them ran into the house and up the stairs to the top floor. They rushed down the hall, banging on all the doors, calling out to make sure no stragglers were left behind, while Cody doused every room, every hall, every step with gasoline.

  They had moved down to the bottom floor, pouring out the last drops of the gasoline, when the caravan of nurses rumbled up. Outside the window, Julian saw the Prelate emerge from the lead truck. Beside him were . . . Franklin and Constance? They were checking something on their phones, pointing out directions.

  Julian grabbed Cody and pulled her down beneath the window level.

  “They’ll see us,” he said.

  The Prelate’s gravelly voice was a clarion call over the din of the vehicles. “Round them all up!”

  Cody tossed a lighter from her pocket to Julian.

  “Burn it down.”

  They kept down below the window line, lighting up all the rooms they’d doused until the flames had taken hold, chewing through the wood, linking together in the hallway behind them and blazing a route up the stairs.

  When they emerged from the hall, nurses wielding batons were already in the kitchen. Constance and Franklin were there, too, and they were inspecting something: Julian’s jacket.

  Constance’s phone was dinging. She had tracked him. That’s what the hell that kiss was about this morning.

  “I’m sorry,” Julian said to Cody. “They tracked me.”

  “Just be quiet,” she replied.

  But it was too late. The nurses were rushing toward them now, batons at the ready. Cody and Julian took off into the thick smoke in the hall. Julian buried his face in the crook of his arm as they ran, pushing through the edges of the flames. Cody led them to the back door, and out to the greenhouse.

  The fire had reached up to the top floors now, flames pouring out the windows. Pieces of flaming wood broke off, falling onto the greenhouse roof. Cody and Julian rushed inside the greenhouse, the nurses dashing through the flames behind them in pursuit.

  Once inside, Cody started rustling the plants, and directed Julian to do the same. “Make it look like everyone is hiding in here.”

  They hustled up and down the aisles, shaking the vegetation. Julian grabbed a broom and ran it through the foliage. They could hear the nurses congregating outside, and above all the noise, the gravelly commands of the Prelate: “Surround the greenhouse!”

  There was an awful crunch as a portion of the flaming roof collapsed, raining glass and flaming bits of wood down into the greenhouse, setting the plants alight. A pungent organic stink quickly fi
lled the air.

  Cody grabbed Julian and pulled him down to the floor.

  “Glen,” she said to herself, “that’s as much time as we can buy you, buddy.”

  She then pulled a pistol from her back pocket. She must’ve gotten it from the safe. She slipped a clip in and cocked it.

  “I’m sorry,” Julian said again. “I’m sorry I brought this here.”

  Three nurses burst into the greenhouse. They spotted them and charged, whipping aside the flaming vegetation with batons.

  “We weren’t going to be here forever,” Cody said.

  She pointed the gun to Julian’s head.

  “I’ll see you on the beach, Mr. Julian.”

  The nurses were almost upon them.

  Julian closed his eyes.

  Chapter 42

  JULIAN BURST TO THE SURFACE OF THE LAKE. THE WATER was so cold it felt like thousands of needles pricking at his skin. He tried hard to suck in air, but it was as if his lungs could not expand. They were tight and hard in his chest.

  The nurses’ boat was slow to reach him. Julian thought for a moment that the lights chugging toward him might be mirages, dimming and fading, and would soon blink away. He would be left there, in the freezing Lake, dying over and over in a loop.

  But no.

  Not today.

  Rocky.

  He and Cody were going to find him.

  He kept above water, kept treading, kept sucking in ragged breaths until the boat reached him.

  The nurses hoisted him aboard and wrapped him in a woolen blanket. He looked out at the Lake through his dripping hair. The sun was almost below the horizon, and the cold Lakeshore night was descending. The nurses’ boats were searching the black stillness of the water with lamps now, trying to locate rebirths as quickly as they surfaced. He watched the flickering lights of other boats on the horizon, hoping Cody was on one of them. There was a troubling gap in his memory, but he recalled the plan.

  Clad in a paper gown and wrapped in a towel, Julian made his way from the dock to the receiving hall. He walked slowly, watching over his shoulder as the crew took the boat back out on the Lake for another round of pickups. A few scattered rebirths were making their way across the beach to the entrance. Julian held back, lingering, until he was able to slip into the shadow of the building, keeping lookout for Cody. If this somehow didn’t work—if they already had her, or if . . .

  Seemingly out of nowhere, Nicholas was at his side. Without a single word, he looped his arm through Julian’s and led him to the side of the building.

  Cody was already standing there, her arms wrapped around herself, shivering in the night air. Nicholas slung a bag off his shoulder and started rooting through it.

  “What the hell happened?” Nicholas said. “The Prelate came back here a few minutes ago, reeking of smoke and looking rather pissed off.”

  Cody blinked, wincing, struggling to fight through the fog of rebirth.

  “The last thing I remember is we were talking about the plan with Glen,” she said.

  Julian nodded. “A little girl ran into the room and said they were coming.”

  Cody shook her head and turned to Nicholas. “The Prelate didn’t have the kids with him, did he?”

  “Not that I saw,” Nicholas replied. “Just a bunch of nurses complaining that they weren’t getting hazard pay. My, you must have really touched a nerve with the Department of the Lakes.”

  Julian could tell that Nicholas was still skeptical, even now, about what Julian had tried to explain to him about the Attison Project.

  But that didn’t matter right now.

  All that mattered was that they stick to the plan.

  “Let’s get on with it,” Julian insisted.

  Nicholas nodded and rooted through his bag, removing three powder-blue nurse’s robes and three sets of the dark blue jumpsuits that were worn under them. Cody turned her back to them and untied her paper gown. She pulled the jumpsuit on, followed by the robe, and turned to them. It hung loosely from her small frame, like she was a little girl, play-acting.

  “Will it pass?”

  “Put the hood down,” Nicholas said.

  She flipped it over, and it swallowed her head.

  “Close enough,” Julian said.

  “My apologies,” Nicholas replied. “There was no time to get a menu of size options.” He was pulling his robe on over his jacket, not bothering with the jumpsuit underneath.

  Julian pulled on his jumpsuit and cinched his own robe close to his chest, and then took a few cautious practice steps. It had big sleeves that flared open at the wrist, kimono-like. It felt heavy to walk around in, but he was going to have to act natural. Keep his head down, too.

  Once they had all robed up, Cody said, “Let’s do it.”

  Nicholas stuffed the crumpled paper gowns into his bag to hide the evidence, and led them a short distance in the shadow of the building to a side door. He reached into his robe and pulled the keycard from his jacket. He scanned them in.

  The hallway was awash in glaring fluorescence. Julian’s head reeled from the brightness, and he suddenly felt weak. He grabbed the door frame, steadying himself. His eyes stung, like on his last rebirth, when he lost the color green. It struck Julian that he probably had a new Wrinkle in his system with this rebirth, and he didn’t know what it was. He tried to blink the thought away and focus.

  Cody touched his shoulder.

  “I’m good,” Julian said, pulling himself up.

  “Just act like you know what you’re doing, and people will think you know what you’re doing,” she said.

  “Couldn’t agree with that more,” Nicholas added, and strode off down the hall.

  Julian and Cody fell in line behind them.

  Julian could feel the eyes of the nurses watching as they headed down the hall, but he just let them look. He didn’t turn to see them. He kept his head straight and low, focused on Nicholas’s back in front of him.

  Soon, they were at a service elevator, and Nicholas jammed the keycard into it. A red light blinked on the access pad. The elevator didn’t open. Nicholas tried again, but again was met with a red blinking light. Julian felt his heart drop.

  At the end of the hall, a double door swung open and the Prelate emerged together with a retinue of nurses. They were charging through the hall—they clearly had somewhere to get to in a hurry.

  “They’re coming,” Cody whispered.

  “We’re just nurses with genuine access to the Spoof floor,” Nicholas said. “No cause for any alarm. As long as this card works.” He tried it again, but again it was a red light.

  “It’s probably smudged or something,” Nicholas muttered, rubbing the card between his hands.

  The stink of smoke preceded the Prelate as he approached. Julian looked down and saw his hand was shaking. Was this it? Was this his new Wrinkle? His heart surged in his chest, a rush of panic flooding into his head. He felt dizzy again, and he started to sway.

  Cody grabbed his trembling hand and held it still as the Prelate came closer.

  “You know exactly what you are doing,” she whispered.

  Julian closed his eyes. He concentrated on the darkness. He tried to empty his mind completely, all his panic, thoughts, and worries drifting away into inky oblivion one by one, like dead leaves from a tree. He felt only his heart thudding in his chest. And then, from the darkness, two glints of light emerged.

  The cat.

  The white patch on its face.

  It stepped forward from the darkness of his mind. It sat down and stared at him, its alien eyes unblinking.

  Beep.

  Julian blinked. The elevator doors opened with a sigh, a little light finally flashing on the access pad. They stepped inside as if they knew exactly what they were doing. As the doors closed, the Prelate and his entourage charged by without so much as a second glance.

  The floor shifted, and the elevator started to move. Julian released a pent-up breath.

  We’re doing
this. We’re actually doing this.

  The Spoof floor had been closed down for the night. The tables were lined with blank, dead screens. Workstations were scattered with the detritus of an active office: mugs, documents. . . . Cody walked through the floor, a look of stunned disbelief on her face, as if she couldn’t fathom that she had actually, finally, made it to this forbidden place.

  Julian looked out the window. Outside was the beach. It sloped down on the right toward the dock. Down in the other direction was a large fenced-off area with modular housing units. He spotted kids milling about in the yard, and entering one of the buildings was the sharp-edged form of Dr. Tazia.

  Attison Camp.

  “Guys,” Cody said. “Look at this.”

  In the center of the room was some kind of large cube, probably about seven feet tall and just as wide. There was a dark sheet hung over it, but something was glowing underneath, a muted blue light emanating from behind the cover. She tore the sheet off.

  It was a kid.

  No older than ten or eleven years old.

  He was suspended in a tank of water, his skin a dead bluish-gray. Wires snaked from his body, out of the tank, and connected to a terminal beside it, where a little green light blinked idly.

  Julian rushed to the tank and circled it, trying to make out the kid’s face.

  It wasn’t Rocky.

  He felt an enormous sense of relief, but also shame for his relief—this was still some kid right here. God knows what the nurses did to him.

  “What the hell is happening in here?” Nicholas asked.

  Julian and Cody didn’t consider the question. They had business to take care of. Cody found an admin terminal in the back of the room and switched it on.

  “Give me the stick,” she demanded.

  But Nicholas just stood in front of the tank, gawking.

  Julian grabbed him by the robe. “The stick,” he demanded.

  Nicholas snapped out of it and fished the stick from his pocket, and Julian tore it out of his hands. He hustled to Cody. Nicholas staggered up behind them, still gawking over his shoulder at the dead kid in the tank.

  Cody plugged the stick into the terminal. A screen popped up with Glen’s program. It started combing through the archive, hunting down anything marked with the Spoof classification, or tagged as part of the Attison Project.