Lola knocked on her door, giddy as a schoolgirl, probably ecstatic after finding out that she was pregnant again. “Did you get your results?”
Shinal glared at the pee-soaked stick she’d placed on top of the toilet. “Shocking. Apparently I’m not pregnant.”
“And?”
“And what, Lola? This has been a huge waste of time.” She stood up and buttoned her pants.
Lola reached around her and grabbed the test. She turned it sideways and pointed out a string of numbers running down the side. She lined the two tests up together. “You see. They’re the same. Matched identically.”
“So what,” Shinal said. “Our tests having matching serial numbers. Who cares?”
“No. These numbers weren’t there before we did the test, only after. These aren’t serial numbers. I think they’re the key.”
“The key to what?” Shinal asked.
“The city.”
CHAPTER 13
Once they were back in the van, Lola scanned the back of the fingernail polish remover as if the contents actually mattered. The fingernail polish remover was made in New England; she tossed the bottle to the side and skimmed the can of vaginal foam until she got down to the end. “Manufactured and distributed from Detroit, Michigan.”
“This is it,” Lola said. She withdrew the instructions: A single page including a diagram, as if someone didn’t know how female contraception worked and where vaginal foam should or shouldn’t go.
She pulled out the pregnancy test and the cipher:
330704502306013010602100 72631485
There weren’t enough words in the document to utilize the cipher so it must be by letter. She pulled up the letters one at a time. N-A-I-L-S-T-E-M. Using the last eight digits she re-arranged the letters. S-A-L-T-M-I-N-E.
Salt Mine. That doesn’t make any sense. She opened a new browser on the cell phone and looked up Salt Mine and Detroit. 1200 feet deep of Detroit’s city center lay a second city, this one made entirely of salt. Pictures of white walls and cathedral tunnels tall enough to stack semis stretched across broad corridors. The mine and tunnels ran underground for over 100 miles. They had been abandoned even by delivery trucks for the last 50 years.
“Head toward Dearborn,” Lola said. “We are looking for Sanders Street.”
There were several homes, but the majority of them were boarded up and a few were traced with ash and soot. Downed trees and a power line had taken out the side of one home and crushed the fence and an old car in another. The streets and sidewalks were empty, chimneys were smokeless, and even dogs and cats appeared to have abandoned the city. It was hard to believe that this was once a thriving metropolis.
“You sure this is where you want us to leave you?” Sven asked. “It doesn’t look safe.”
Lola glanced out the window hoping for a glowing neon sign but all she saw was a few abandoned warehouses and some old machinery. They were close to the mine’s last stated opening at 12841 Sanders Street. She swallowed, hoping that the large lump in her throat would somehow go down. “Yup, this is it.” She jumped out of the van and pulled the wheelchair Jared had purchased out of the back.
“We can’t just leave you here,” Sven said. “Frenchie needs a hospital and all this place looks to offer is tetanus.”
Frenchie gave a tiny shake of her head. Her body continued to vibrate, shivering all the way down to her toes.
“No. This is the place. It has to be here somewhere.”
“But…”
“Why don’t you guys go get some lunch and if we don’t find it in an hour, we’ll give you a call.”
Caroline stood wide-eyed next to the van’s sliding door, while Jared and Shinal prepared to slide Frenchie out of the van and into the wheelchair.
Her limp body, pale skin, and thinning red hair made her look like a life-size Raggedy Anne doll. Lola cradled her head as she was set into the wheelchair. Her skin was cold and clammy. Her body continued to shiver. The only voluntary movement she still seemed to control was her eyes.
Jared secured her to the chair.
Shinal checked the wound and then Frenchie’s pulse. “You’re going to be okay,” she said as she poured a vial of Liquid Energy past Frenchie’s lips. The sullen look on Shinal’s face stated the actual prognosis.
Long black hairs sprung from Shinal’s nose.
“No need to lie, Pinocchio.” Frenchie gave a weak smile.
Sven, Gia and Serge said goodbye, but before they left Serge tossed Jared a backpack that had been tucked away in the bottom of the trunk. “My emergency bag. Hopefully you guys won’t need it.”
Jared covered Frenchie with more blankets and followed Lola down the street.
A half mile away stood the address of the last known entrance to the mine. According to the old reports and news clippings, delivery vans used to be driven into it to cross the city. Lola was hopeful that such an opening would be obvious; instead she found the remains of a ten-foot barbed wire fence surrounding a near-vacant lot. A blackened pile of salt sat in the northwest corner amid some ancient equipment. A mobile home with a partial roof stood in the center of the property next to an abandoned warehouse.
The warehouse doors had been welded shut, but around the backside of the building someone had taken the liberty of driving a forklift through the sidewall and prying apart the sheet metal. Lola stepped through the triangular opening.
“Hello,” she called. “Is anybody there?” Her voice echoed across the dark room. Nothing moved. Nothing called back. The dark felt like it was closing in on her, the huge empty space somehow making her feel claustrophobic.
The metallic clink made Lola turn back toward the wall. Jared and Shinal were trying to wiggle Frenchie’s wheelchair through the makeshift doorway. Lola went to help out.
After digging around in a bag full of odds and ends from the back of Serg’s van, Jared had armed himself with two helmet lights. He tossed one of them to Lola and fastened the other to his head. The halogen lights barely made it across the room.
In the dim light different objects came into view, and the vastness of the building became apparent. Pieces of equipment, a drill press, and an engine hoist seemed like a child’s toys on the expanse of the concrete floor. A small office the size of a shoebox sat connected to the far wall and near the far corner stood what looked like an old tractor. “The office?” Shinal asked.
Lola nodded. There weren’t any other real choices. The address, the Salt Mine, everything was looking like a dead end. She should’ve figured that the company or the government had sealed the cave when she found the entire neighborhood abandoned. The entrance was probably buried under the blackened salt they’d seen out front. That was the only place they’d seen big enough to drive a truck into.
The office contained a scarred desk, an upside-down chair, over three inches of dust, and a broken light switch. They wandered over to the tractor. One end was built like a bulldozer and the other had a giant piston that looked like an enormous jackhammer suspended four feet off the ground.
“SUZIE LOVES GEORGE, BOONDOGGLE, CRIPS RULE” – the equipment looked like it had been tagged at least 50 different times, each symbol, initial, or name overlapping the next, making many of them indecipherable.
She slipped into the bucket seat. The levers and pedals were all frozen solid. No mysterious passageway opened. She slumped over the steering wheel. This was a dead end. No mine entrance. No secret camp. And no help. She cradled her stomach and communed with her baby. The two of them were craving a peanut butter and pickle sandwich.
“Frenchie, Frenchie wake up,” Shinal said as she checked Frenchie’s wrist. She pinched her arm and then gave her a light smack to the face.
Frenchie’s eyes fluttered open. She gazed around the room looking past Shinal and Jared who were standing next to her. Then her eyes closed again.
“No. No. No. Stay with us,” Shinal said. “Fight. Keep your eyes open.” She smacked Frenchie again. This time the strike was loud eno
ugh to make Lola’s cheeks sting.
Caroline jumped. Her eternal smile faded into a look of concern until Jared stepped in front of his daughter and pulled her to the side.
“We have to do something,” Shinal said. “She’s fading, her pulse is barely existent. We need help.”
Lola climbed down from the tractor. Her eyes scanned the room and went to the light in the doorway. Help from where? The nearest hospital was at least 20 miles away.
“Stay with us dammit,” Shinal said. “Lola, do something.”
“Like what? There is nowhere to go. No one to help. No government. No family. No Shines; we’ve been abandoned just like this city.” She tried to suck back her tears but they were flowing across her face. “I don’t have any freaking magic that can heal her, and screaming abracadabra isn’t going to help anyone.”
The light from the doorway extinguished. A half-second later their two headlamps did the same.
Jared’s heavy footsteps placed him on the other side of the tractor. And then everything went silent. No light, no sound. It was as if they’d been sucked into a black hole.
Lola reached out to grab hold of Shinal.
Large hands embraced her from behind. Something sharp pricked her neck and she crumpled to the ground.
CHAPTER 14
Frenchie’s crusty eyes pried open, but only for a moment. The heavy eyelids closed after being open for a few seconds, but she was thankful as the bright light was harsh, almost painful. She put up a hand to block out the blinding light, but it seemed to be gleaming from everywhere.
After her eyes adjusted, she scanned the area and found herself surrounded by white pillars and arches. Cathedral ceilings reached up towards the sky. The angels were absent but a bruising headache remained.
“Hello, Frenchie.”
She looked up half-expecting to see a hovering figure with wings. But there was nothing but the old cot she lay in, and a few vials surrounded her. The rest of the room was empty.
She rubbed her eyes and then noticed a shadow looming over her. It was a short brunette in her mid-twenties.
“I’m Empy.”
Empty. What kind of name was Empty? Frenchie shook her head, trying to let it go. “What, where am I?” she asked.
“Detroit’s second city. The Salt Mines.”
Frenchie remembered the van stopping. She was in a wheelchair. They were searching a warehouse. But then everything went fuzzy. “But how? Where did you come from?”
“We were monitoring you guys since you entered Dearborn. We were tempted to help when we saw Lola and Caroline, but what clenched it was Shinal McGraw. She’s not the first fugitive to come looking for our lair, but she is the first Olympian. Her publicity is what saved you.”
Frenchie thought back to the tight-assed little gymnast who was so rude when they first met. But then she recalled Shinal running to her aid when she was shot and trying to revive her when all she wanted to do was surrender to the darkness.
Her hands went down to her right leg. Her fingers stopped about 12 inches down from her hip. The leg ended in a stub.
“I’m sorry,” Empy said. “We couldn’t save the leg. Too little blood and too much infection.”
“So you amputated it?” Frenchie wanted to scream. She wanted to string Empy and everyone else up against one of the gigantic salt pillars that were holding up the ceiling. Her body tightened and trembled as she tried to hold onto her emotion. Hair sprouted out of her hands, forearms, and wrists before she stopped her first handicap from spreading across the rest of her body.
“I love your Shine,” Empy said.
She looked honest and sounded truthful. Frenchie decided she wasn’t blowing smoke.
“They are making you a new leg right now with the 3D printer. It will take some getting used to, but with Charmin’s help you’ll be up and around in no time.”
Lightning stretched down her right leg and into the emptiness where her toes should have been. She closed her eyes and waited for the phantom pain to stop.
“Where is everyone else?” Frenchie asked.
“Jared and Caroline are both being detained. We didn’t have any research on the two of them and we are all a bit suspicious of outsiders.”
“What about the others?”
Empy smiled. “Waiting for you in the other room. Do you want to go see them?”
Frenchie nodded.
Empy helped her into the wheelchair and then pushed her through the tunnels. The walls weren’t ornate but they were beyond impressive. One cavern contained the mess hall and another contained more computers and flat screen televisions than an old-fashioned department store.
Empy stopped outside the third doorway and took Frenchie’s hand. “Are you ready?”
Ready for what? Frenchie wondered. Life as an amputee, life as a Shine, or life with a family where someone as odd as she was she might finally fit in.
Epilogue
Thirteen days chained to a giant salt lick would drive anyone crazy, but at least the meals they gave had flavor. Jared rubbed his wrists and tried to get rid of the red rings that seemed to be permanently etched into his wrists.
Caroline caught his eye and smiled as if they’d been hanging out for the last several days playing a game.
He smiled back, letting her infectious attitude win him over.
Without her, he would’ve been lost years ago. Caroline was the reason he’d made it through the tragic loss of his wife, Kathleen. And now Caroline was all that he had left.
Jared pulled his own clothes on and nodded to Anvil, who’d been keeping an eye on them through this last shift. She waved goodbye and left him alone with directions to the mess hall where they would finally get to see the other girls again.
After she left, he helped Caroline get dressed. But first he pulled a wire out of one of her pant seams and used his wedding ring to complete the circuit. With the transmitter complete, he tapped out a quick text in Morse code.
“I’m in.”
Episode Nine
Cassandra
by Lara Wells
CHAPTER 1
Sirens blared.
This was Cassie’s only chance.
“Girl, you are crazy,” her cellmate, Glimmer, said.
“You sure you won’t come?”
“I ain’t stupid. Seen enough roommates disappear. And they didn’t try to escape. Mmmm-mmmm-mmmm.” She shook her head.
The ward nurse on duty tonight was the nicest of them all. Cassie didn’t need her Shine to know that. She was the only nurse who didn’t cringe around the girls. But her Shine confirmed that the woman’s amygdala didn’t light up like a fireworks display every time she was around them.
Nurses. Whatever. They were guards, cleverly disguised. Just there to help the girls. Sure.
The first step is always hardest.
She reached for the cell door, propped just barely open by a small rock she’d smuggled inside after yard time. After they returned from dinner, she’d quickly wedged the rock between the cell door and the wall as the automatic doors closed. The rock kept the latch from engaging. Thus the emergency siren. In a few minutes, the halls would be crawling with nurse/guards. First the nice one, then the rest.
A hand clamped over her arm.
“Here.” Glimmer thrust out a fist clutching a few dollars. “All I got. Don’t do me no good in here.”
How Glimmer held onto the cash, she didn’t know. Or care. She accepted the crumpled bills, tucking them past the elastic waistband of her fabulous dishwater-gray ward wear.
She reached out with her mind, sending feelers past Glimmer’s skull, through the gray matter, deep into the amygdala. Stroking just the right spot with her invisible tendril, she triggered production of warm feelings to make certain Glimmer knew how much she appreciated the cash. Like a bear hug. But a brain hug.
Glimmer smiled, then closed her eyes. Her brow furrowed. When she opened her eyes, she said, “Okay, the video feeds are scrambled. Should give you e
nough time. Take care yo’self, Cassandra.”
She blanched. Her name sounded stiff. Formal. Ancient. She preferred her nickname from childhood. When she was happy.
Before she realized she was a freak.
“My friends call me Cassie.”
She pushed past the door, kicked the rock, and clicked the door shut. The bolt engaged. The alarm stopped. She raced down the hall, the hems of her loose, flimsy ward wear flapping at her ankles. She knew the fastest way out. She also knew that was where the other nurse/guards would be approaching.
She streaked past windowed cell doors with their single, square glass panes. A few curious eyes peeped out at her. But mostly the other girls kept to themselves. They were all experimental rats in cages here. No sense being friendly. No relationship would last long.
She had to get out. She couldn’t take another day of the stark room, beige walls, and bleak environment. Or the nurse/guards whose brains lit up in terror in their presence, a stark contrast to the girls, mostly terrified or drugged into submission, brains dark and quiet. Waiting for the inevitable day a nurse plucked them from their cells and they never came back.
Some of the girls weren’t even Shines. She could tell. Didn’t make any difference anymore. The general outcry against Shines had swelled to the point that the faintest whisper of suspicion brought The Patrol to your house. Parents were powerless to stop them. All they could do was watch while their girls were dragged away.
She stopped and pressed against the wall as she neared the nurse’s station. It was unoccupied. Their nurse was probably searching the rooms on the other side of the ward.
If she could sneak past the desk and out of the ward, she could run down the rear hall. As long as no one intercepted her, she should be able to make it out the back door.
She didn’t know what she would do after that. No point planning a route if she couldn’t even get out.
Trembling from head to toe, she stepped away from the wall and forced one foot in front of the other. As she slowly approached the nurse’s station, she reached out with her mind, scanning for signs of heightened emotion.
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