by C. J. Felver
He sighs and rolls his eyes in response. “Down this hall, first door on the right.” He points in the direction of said hall.
“Thank you, thank you!” It almost feels like I could be laying it on a little thick … just a little.
He looks away, dismissing me again. I almost feel bad for tricking him, but such are the casualties of war, I guess.
I walk into the hallway, stopping by the bathroom door to look around and orient myself. If I can figure out how to get past the front desk without Jalen seeing me, I’ll be golden.
Walking by the bathroom—opening the door and letting it swing shut to cover myself—I realize the only thing in this hallway is the bathrooms. I creep back toward the hallway entrance and get my bearings. At the risk of being seen, I peer around the corner of the wall.
You have got to be kidding me. What the heck is he doing here? I spy the police officer I spoke to earlier. Only … he’s not in his uniform, instead wearing faded jeans and a blue flannel shirt. Ducking back around the corner of the hallway, I try to calm my mind. What was the point of shutting me down if he was going to come investigate anyway? If he’s in here asking questions, he could very well bring some unwanted attention to me and what I came here to do.
Or maybe he’s not here investigating Lyza’s abduction at all …
I peek around the corner again. Whatever he’s doing has Jalen pretty occupied, so I take the opportunity to keep on moving. Now is my chance, but I stick as close to the wall as I can. Moving steadily, I inch toward the next hallway, where I assume an elevator is located.
Bingo!
But one look at the elevator tells me how screwed I am. How in the heck am I supposed to call the elevator without calling attention to myself? Great.
What now, genius?
I hunker low and continue on down the hallway to see what else is over here. There’s a doorway with a small window. Looking through, I notice a stairwell on the other side of the door. But of course the door is locked and the keypad on the wall right next to the door is probably not going to be easy to force my way past.
Squatting in front of the keypad, I stare at it, drawing a blank. How do I get by this? Could I jam it with water? Would it trip some sort of sensor alarm and lock the building down? Or would it trigger a failsafe and pop open every single door in the facility? Either way, stealth isn’t on my side.
The door begins to swing open toward me. I jump behind it quickly, hoping to not be seen. My pulse quickens, thundering in my ears. I force myself to breathe slow and quiet, which is a difficult task when your heart is racing.
Two guards walk out of the stairwell.
“She puts up quite a fight, that one.” The first guard chuckles.
“I know,” the second replies. He looks as if he is rubbing his jaw, but his back is to me. “Feisty. She has quite the right hook.”
Only halfway listening to the conversation, it takes a second before understanding washes over me. They’re talking about Lyza! Who else would it be?
I jam the toe of my shoe in the door, catching it before it latches. I hold my breath for a moment. Did they notice? The first guard is laughing, but neither of them glance back at me. I slip through the door and silently pull it shut behind me.
Well, the stairs only lead up. Strange. I’m sure this place has a basement of some sort. But next to the stairwell, there’s a long corridor. Each side is lined with doors, which are all numbered and require a keycard to open. Trying to stay hidden, I tiptoe down the hall, looking through each window.
The number of doors and windows is discouraging. Each one is a bust, and I’m running out of hallway; there are only half a dozen doors left. Some of the rooms are empty, but the ones that aren’t weigh heavily on my heart. Most of these people look hollow and broken. Some are sitting on their beds in rooms that resemble prison cells. Others are sitting on the floor, leaning their heads against the wall. I wish there were a way for me to get everyone out of here.
I freeze. I have no idea what the room number is. I quit paying attention.
Through the window, sitting on a slab bed with a thin mattress, is my best friend.
The only thing between me and her is this locked steel door.
I crouch down, examining the card slot. Time to test a theory.
Summoning a small amount of water—and crossing my fingers that nothing catastrophic happens—I push it through the slot and swish it around inside the mechanism. After a moment, there’s a soft pop. This time when I jiggle the handle, the door opens.
Lyza looks up at me, and scrambles off the bed. I put a finger to my mouth, urging her to stay quiet. She smirks and saunters over to me.
“I knew you were a badass deep down, girl,” she whispers.
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave her off. “You’re welcome,” I drawl. Her smirk grows into a full-blown smile and she steps out into the corridor.
“You know how to get out of here?” she whispers, still looking around the long hall.
I scoff at her. “Uh, the same way I came in?” She walks across the hall and looks into the window of the door opposite hers. Her gasp is so faint, I barely hear it.
“Cleo,” she says, her tone low, “you need to come look at this.”
I walk over to her and squint into the window beside her.
Oh my gosh.
My breath catches in my chest, emotions clogging my throat. It takes a bit of effort to swallow down the lump forming there. Tears threaten to spill down my cheeks.
Once again, a steel door is separating me from someone important.
Surprises
“Dad!” The word comes out a half sob.
Without a second thought, I push water through the card slot and jerk the door open. Lyza catches the door before it slams into the wall as I rush over to the one person I never thought I’d see again in my life.
“Cleo?” he says. “How is this possible?”
My knees hit the concrete floor as I reach his bedside and throw my arms around him, hauling him to me. Tears flow freely as I hold him tight, breathing in his scent.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d ached for another moment with my dad. How I’d managed to carry around this weight every day for the last four years. I had gotten used to the weight, but it lifts, making me feel lighter than ever.
“You can’t be here! They’ll catch you!” My dad grabs my shoulders and pulls me back, looking into my eyes. Worry creases his face; his brows draw together.
“Not today,” I tell him. “I’m getting you out of here, Dad.”
I take in his appearance. He’s frail compared to what I remember. His hair is grayer than the strawberry blond I remember. The clothes he’s wearing are much too baggy, the skin on his face is swollen and discolored in places. My stomach lurches to think of why he looks this way, what they’ve done to him over the years.
A fresh wave of tears spills down my cheeks, but this time it's not happiness overwhelming me. This time it’s worry and anger.
Determination fills me now. Something will be done about this. What, I don’t know, but I’ll find a way to stick it to AGAS for every single mark left, every pound lost.
First, we have to get out of here.
I gently take his arm and drape it over my shoulders, ready to hold whatever weight he needs me to. He seems so fragile, it’s terrifying and solidifies my resolve.
“Dammit. Girl, we have a problem,” Lyza says from her position in the doorway looking out into the corridor. The sound of boots and voices echoes in the room. On the edge of my senses, I can feel the water waiting for my command. Lyza’s gaze meets mine and I see a slight spark in her irises.
“How many?” I ask, urgency seeping into my voice and my limbs.
“Four.” Shit. How are we going to get through that many? Especially with my dad—
“I can walk on my own, don’t worry about me. I’ll be right behind you,” my dad says, cutting off my train of thought. For a beat, I look at him, trying to decide if
he’ll make it.
“Stick close,” I say, trusting the look in his eyes. He nods. My head swivels back over to Lyza. “We have to take out their radios so they can’t call for help.”
Lyza spreads her arms wide, palms up, two balls of electricity dancing in them. She looks to me, silently asking if I’m ready. I nod and she kicks the door wide open.
I send a sheet of water toward the guards’ feet, making sure to keep it from touching the three of us. Lyza tosses a ball of electricity. It hits the puddle with a crackle, sparks spreading across the surface and up the legs of the guards. The four of them go stiff, muscles jerking involuntarily. As the sparks dwindle, the four guards split, moving to opposite sides of the hall.
Lyza sends out another arc from both hands, each one fracturing in two, aimed at the radios on their shoulders. There’s a fizzle, followed by pops as sparks fly from the devices, hopefully rendering them useless.
Charging the two on the left, I pull the water back up from the floor and I snap it toward them like a whip. The short guard in front takes the blast, stumbling backward into the other guard.
I close the distance as they recover, drawing up a water shield. The short guard punches through the shield, water splashing all around. Ducking, I avoid the next blow. But a kick from behind drops me to one knee. Pain reverberates through my leg, throbbing and intense. I can’t stay down; leaving my back exposed was a rookie mistake. Pushing up to my feet, I punch the tall guard’s stomach. He doubles over, arms wrapped around his center. I smash my uninjured knee into his face and grab him by the shirt, tossing him into the wall.
He slumps to the ground as I turn to the presence at my back, face first into a right hook.
A crunch echoes in my ears and blood sprays from my nose. I stagger backward, my vision blurry. Blinking furiously, I try to clear my vision, but someone grabs hold of my collar.
Water rises around me and I hear Lyza shouting my name. I wrench the guard’s hand free from my shirt in time for Lyza to unleash an electrical storm. All four guards flail on the ground.
My dad is running toward me by Lyza’s side. Time to go. We race to the door. I push a small sphere of water into the lock—which Lyza then fries—and we scramble through.
Before the three of us can make it another step down the short hallway, an alarm starts wailing throughout the building. Red lights start flashing and muffled shouts come from multiple directions.
“We won’t make it,” my dad howls frantically. “More guards will be coming. We’ll never make it out of here!”
I grab him by the arm and start running, dragging him with me. Lyza follows behind us.
“The exit is to the right at the end of this hall. Not far. We can make it. If we run into any more of those AGAS guards, we’ll fight our way through,” I say, willing the words to be true.
We continue to race down the hall, through the door, and book it around the corner. Jalen seems to be gone from the front desk, along with that officer.
We may just make it.
Behind me, Lyza lets out a curse.
Ahead of us, a single guard is running our way. “I have eyes on them! All squads to main entrance,” he shouts into the radio on his shoulder.
Lyza darts forward. Just before she reaches him, she drops low, slides across the floor, and sweeps his legs out from underneath him. He lands flat on his back and she strikes, knocking him unconscious with one electrifying punch to the head.
Four more of them enter the far side of the room as Lyza gets back to her feet. But we don’t stop, we keep running.
“Stand down!” an authoritative voice commands as we reach the doors. I don’t stop. There’s no way I’m standing down now. I wrench the doors open and shove my dad through first.
Like an idiot, I glance back. My gaze meets a familiar hard stare, freezing me in place. All I can do is stare in bewilderment at the tall muscular man.
Those brown eyes, so full of hate and anger. Is that why he works for AGAS? Because he can’t stand elementals? It makes a lot of sense as to why he’s in charge—or seems to be anyway. His nostrils flare as his jaw ticks. “Let them go.”
Shock rattles through me. I swear my jaw hits the floor as I stand there frozen and in shock, staring at him.
Did I really just hear what I think I heard? It can’t be. My mind must be playing tricks on me because there is absolutely no way this guy—who obviously hates me and my kind—just told his men to let us go.
My stupor is broken as Lyza tugs me through the door. The three of us run down the sidewalk and across the street. We pause for a moment, heaving to catch our breath.
“Why did they just let us go?”
It doesn’t make any sense. Especially when you consider that I freaking broke into their secret dungeon and busted out two prisoners. He clearly had enough men to recapture us.
“I have no idea,” Lyza says. “But we’re out of that place.”
The three of us pile into my car, Lyza taking the back seat and my dad beside me. So far, he hasn’t spoken a word since his panic about our escape. I waste no time leaving the parking lot, deciding to take the long way home in case anyone follows us.
“Should we be going to the police or something?” Lyza asks.
“Uh, there’s something you should know …” I say.
“I hope it’s not as ominous as you’re making it sound,” Lyza says.
I quickly fill them both in on what happened at the police station, adding that the officer showed up at HSI Labs. They’re both quiet for a moment after I finish.
We pass under a street light and my dad flinches. He squeezes his eyes shut, nostrils flaring as he breathes deep. When he opens his eyes, they’re vacant. Acid spills through my body, building in my stomach. He’s been through worse than I originally thought. He’s like a shell of himself. I clench the steering wheel to keep the tremble in my hands from showing.
“So … what the heck was that guy doing there, then?” Lyza asks.
“That’s what bothers me. Nothing about it makes sense, especially with how he dismissed me as soon as he learned about you being an elemental.”
“Well,” Lyza says, “maybe he was just questioning on his own. You know, like a rogue cop or something? You said he wasn’t in his uniform, right?”
“Right, he wasn’t.” I think it over for a moment, trying to remember if there had been anything in his voice that would lead me to think he’d check into it on his own. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just overthinking it all. Reading into something that isn’t there.”
There’s something about it that strikes me wrong. We have other things to worry about right now though. If I could get my brain to shut off, that would be great.
“Do you think Joe could’ve been in there somewhere?” Lyza asks.
Instantly I feel guilty for not thinking to look. When I went in, I was so singularly focused on finding Lyza. If it weren’t for her looking through the other window, I never would have walked out of there with my dad.
“He could have been. I wish I would’ve thought to look through the last few windows while we were in there.”
“Well,” Lyza says, “there’s nothing we can do about it now. Except hope he’s doing okay wherever he is.”
Silence fills my car, but only lasts for a moment. To my surprise, my dad finally speaks.
“Thank you,” he says, “for getting me out of there. I know I didn’t seem too grateful when you got there, but I am. I don’t think I would’ve lasted much longer.”
I take him in as best as I can in the dim light of the car. His expression is shuttered, eyes glossed over. My hatred for AGAS grows at every turn, bringing with it a need to destroy them. Whatever they did to my dad is going to take a lot of time to repair—if it can be at all.
He turns toward the back seat, facing Lyza.
“Thank you, Lyza. Thank you for being there for my Cleo all the years I couldn’t be. It was comforting to know she’d have someone to be with her.”
“Oh, Frank, you don’t have to thank me for that. Cleo’s my girl. I’ll always have her back, no matter what.”
My heart swells at her words. I couldn’t have a better bestie.
“I’m glad you had Lyza. While I was in there, I had a lot of time to think. Your mom … she … I’m sorry she left you. Whatever reason she walked out on me for, it doesn’t matter. But, I have no idea why or how she was able to walk out of your life too. I’m so sorry you grew up without a mother.”
Holy shit. I’m pretty sure my heart just burst from the emotions being thrown around.
“You have nothing to apologize for, Dad. It wasn’t your fault. You raised me just fine without her.”
He turns back around, staring through the window again. The shuttered look returns to his face. I will do whatever it takes to make sure AGAS never makes anyone feel the way my dad is feeling right now.
Speculation
“Here,” Lyza says, handing me a wad of paper towels. I hold them to my nose, attempting to staunch the fresh flow of blood. She’d cornered me at the counter and wrenched my broken nose back into place.
“Thanks,” I say flatly, glaring at her over my hand and breathing through my mouth. My eyes are watering, but I ignore it. I’m not sure if it hurt worse with the initial break or when she reset it.
“Did you want it to stay crooked?” Her tone is chastising as she looks at me with raised eyebrows.
My dad walks into the kitchen. His brows draw together as he glances between me and my best friend.
“No, but you could’ve warned me,” I say, pulling the paper towel away, rearranging it to place a cleaner section back to my nose. I could definitely use some ice for this.
“If I had warned you, would it have hurt any less? Girl, you are such a drama queen, I swear,” Lyza says, shaking her head.
She has a point. Warning me wouldn’t have made it hurt any less. I grab a fresh paper towel from the roll and wet it to wipe my chin. Between the fresh blood and what had already dried on my face earlier, I’m a mess.