Catching Ivy

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Catching Ivy Page 9

by Eliza Tilton


  I step closer. “My little sister is in there. It’s her twenty-first birthday, and I want to make sure she doesn’t get plastered and taken advantage of.” I hold out my hand for a handshake, with the chip card hidden in my palm

  “You can wait like everyone else,” he grunts and ignores the bribe.

  “He’s with me, Kay.”

  Astrid comes out of nowhere and gives Kay a charming smile. Though his stoic face doesn’t change, he moves aside and lets us in.

  Her hand touches my back as we walk. “Thanks, Kay. See you later!” she chirps.

  Once we’re past the bouncer, I drop her hand. “How do you know him?” I avoid meeting her eyes.

  Drums beat inside the club, the beat increasing as the next bouncer opens the door and lets us inside.

  “He’s dating Karen,” she replies.

  “How is your sister?” I ask, genuinely curious.

  “Good.”

  I feel the visor in my hand. I have to find Ivy. She’s here somewhere.

  “I told my friends I’d wait for them near the entrance,” she offers, staring at her nails, obviously avoiding eye contact with me, too.

  “Thanks,” I manage to say, and when she glances up, I give her a smile that tells her we’re good. She smiles back and bounces away.

  I head to the bathroom where I can put on the visor without being bumped or ogled at. I find an empty stall, place the visor over my eyes, and try to find out where Ivy is.

  She’s staring at her reflection.

  Bathroom!

  My heart races. I vault out of the men’s bathroom and into the women’s next to it. A dark-haired girl bumps into me as I rush in. “Sorry,” I mumble, and shove around her.

  The dim bathroom light flickers to the hard beat of music. Ivy is standing at the mirror, her gaze focused on her own image. The yellow lights and cement walls highlight the fear on her face.

  “Ivy?”

  She jumps and turns to me with wide eyes.

  “It’s okay,” I soothe, holding out my hands. “I’m here to help.”

  “You?” She steps back, farther away from me. “How?”

  I’m not sure how she recognizes me, but I assume it’s from the soup kitchen. “My name’s Damion. I have the vid.” I wiggle the visor in my hand, keeping both hands visible.

  “Are you with Louie?” her voice trembles.

  “Who’s Louie?”

  “I have to go.” She runs for the door, but I side step to block her.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ve seen everything you’ve been through over the past couple of days. Whatever BORAS is up to, you can’t fix it on your own. I can help.”

  She tilts her head at me, her gaze moving across my face and body as if she’s trying to discern my intentions with her eyes. “What do you mean you saw me?”

  I can tell by the confused expression on her face she doesn’t believe me, but we don’t have time for her to decide. BORAS could be anywhere. If they were the ones who trashed Jims’ apartment, they could already be tracking him and now me.

  My heart speeds up, revving me into action. “You don’t have any reason to trust me. I know that, but.” I hold the visor up between us. “I was the one who got this vid, out of anyone else in the world, and I’ve been freaking out, wondering how I could save an imaginary girl, but you’re real,” I continue. “I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it, but now you’re standing in front of me.” My voice trails off and suddenly, I don’t know what else to say.

  She glances at the floor and her brows narrow. “I don’t understand. How could you have seen me? The vid was just supposed to hold my location, and besides that, it was only supposed to go to Louie. Is that why you were in my dreams?” She lifts her chin, eyeing me.

  “Your dreams?” I step closer.

  “I don’t understand what any of this means, but if you have my vid, Louie doesn’t know I’m here.” Her bottom lip quivers.

  I want to say more, do more, but I’m afraid she’ll turn and run.

  “I need to get to Louie. He’s the only one who can help. Can you take me?” she says, stilling herself and wiping away everything but determination from her face.

  “Louie? I know almost everyone here, but there’s no Louie.”

  She shakes her head. “No, you must be wrong. He owns this place.”

  “Buzz?” I slip the visor back in my jacket, trying to think of who she could mean.

  She shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe. Will you help me find him?”

  “Of course.”

  The bathroom door opens and a girl walks in, stopping short and glaring at me.

  “Sorry, we were just leaving.” I take Ivy’s hand and tug her into the pulsing club. Multi-colored lights flash spastically around us and music pounds from the massive speakers to our left. Ivy’s grip tightens. I squeeze her hand and lean over her shoulder. “Hold my hand,” I shout over the music. “Stay close.”

  She nods and grips my arm with her other hand. The closeness of her body sends a ripple of urgency through me. I need to get her out of here and take her somewhere safe.

  We make our way to the back stairs that lead up to the VIP section. The bouncer lets us pass and we make it to the halls with no issues. Moans and screams echo around us. I glance back, and Ivy’s eyes go wide as someone calls out something that makes even me blush.

  “Ignore that.” I explain, “It’s just people watching vids.” I nudge her along, but she slows.

  Her expression narrows and she stops at a door where some girl is getting real explicit.

  “Why is she saying those things?” Ivy’s cheeks are red, her eyes glassy.

  Girl, I would love to show you. Later. “Once we’re safe I promise to tell you, but right now, we need to move.”

  “Right. Let’s go.”

  Her innocence makes the beast in me lose control. Flashes of girls from black market sex vids I’ve meshed enter my head, enticing me.

  Get your head straight, I order myself.

  The bouncer at the end of the hall moves aside like he’s been waiting for us. We move through the VIP lounge and snake around dancers, their bodies thrashing together. Sweat coats my palms and I grip Ivy’s hand tighter, afraid I’ll lose her.

  A digital key plate is on the wall next to the black door at the end of the room, another guard standing by. As we approach, he touches his ear piece. A second later, he swipes a code into the lock and the door slides open.

  “All the way to the end,” he instructs and moves aside to let us pass.

  “Thanks.” I give Ivy a gentle squeeze. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  We walk into a red hallway and the door clicks shut behind us. Blood red carpet stretches to the immense double doors at the end, which are guarded by two guys holding guns. The black speckled wallpaper adds to my mounting apprehension. Truthfully, as many times as I’ve been to Disturbia, I’ve never met Buzz. Jims always brags about how he’s super VIP because he’s allowed back here.

  Wordlessly, one of the guards opens the door and lets us in.

  Screens cover the entire wall across from us with flashing pictures of the halls, the club, and the city

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” a deep voice rasps, followed by the owner swiveling his chair around to face us. His hair is as red as the carpet in the hall, and a pair of black rimmed glasses sits on his thin nose. “Welcome to Disturbia,” he greets us, holding out his arms as if to encompass the entire room.

  Ivy drops my hand. “Are you Louie?” she asks clearly, if a bit shaky.

  “Buzz,” he corrects. “There’s only two people in the world who call me by that name, and I have a feeling my mother didn’t send you.”

  A thin scar stretches from his left ear to his chin. He must have pissed someone off to get a knife
cut like that.

  Buzz leans forward, folding his hands and resting his arms on his thighs.

  “Eric sent me,” Ivy reveals, twisting the bottom of her shirt with her hands.

  Buzz nods his head. “He sent me a message saying Mom was dropping off dinner—our little code. When I didn’t get anything, I figured something went wrong. I haven’t been able to contact him.” He nods at the bouncer standing at another door to our left. The bouncer opens the door and Jims stumbles out of what looks like a storage room.

  “Hey!” He flicks me a nonchalant wave.

  “You’re supposed to be with the car,” I grumble.

  The bouncer pushes Jims to a chair.

  “Damion, right?” Buzz acknowledges.

  I nod, not surprised he knows me. I come here a lot, and most people in the city know of my family.

  “See, Damion—Jims here made a tiny mistake when he sold one of my vids.”

  “Oh, come on, Buzz, I always sell the vids!” A vape sticks to Jims’ bottom lip as he futilely argues his point.

  “True.” Buzz points an accusatory finger and swivels his chair to face Jims. “You sell, but I always get first pick, and part of the profit. That vid was mine.” He glances back to me. “To keep my twin out of my business, I buy from another tech at BORAS. Eric . . . looks the other way. But every so often, that slug tech and Jims get greedy, especially if they think they have a hot item.”

  This time, I glare at Jims. “You knew I would buy it,” I accused.

  He grins and holds out his arms. “Come on, Damion. You’re my best client. I was just looking out for you.”

  “Don’t!” Anger boils in my chest. “Don’t put this on me.”

  “No reason to fight, gentlemen.” Buzz laces his fingers behind his back. “If I’m right, and I usually am, our friend Damion has the vid on him.”

  Everyone turns to me and I hold up my visor, not wanting to hand it over. It’s my link to Ivy. An unbreakable link we may need if we get separated.

  Buzz wags his fingers and I begrudgingly hand it over. He takes it and swivels his chair to face the desk behind him, pulling the vid from the visor in one smooth move. “You really screwed up this time, Jims.”

  Jims puffs on his vape. “Just trying to make a living,” he replies airily. “You know how us Midtown kids are.”

  Jims may be my dealer, but we’re also friends, and right now, I’m worried he’s going to say something to Buzz that’ll get us both killed. “You can shut up now,” I warn.

  He blows a ring of smoke at me. “Fine,” he clips.

  While Buzz takes the vid and puts it in his own visor, I step closer to Ivy. “Are you okay?” I whisper.

  “I’m worried about Eric. If he thinks something happened to me, I don’t know what he’ll do.”

  “You guys are close?” I guess.

  “Very.”

  Close like friends? More than friends? Questions race through my mind. I could punch myself for being so distracted. This isn’t the time.

  “Ivy.” Buzz is facing us with a black flashlight in his hands. He curls a finger at her, beckoning her closer. “Come here.”

  She walks forward, no hesitation in her steps.

  “Eric put something for me in you.”

  “What?” she gasps.

  I’m behind her in seconds. “What do you mean in her?” I ask, placing a protective hand on her back.

  “He left a coded message in the vid for me, accessible only by a retina scan. The chip inside you is what’s been connecting you to the vid.”

  “That’s why I could see her?”

  He nods, but his attention is focused on Ivy. “It’ll be somewhere on your neck or head. I need to search for it.”

  “Okay.” She lifts her hair up with one hand.

  I step back to let Buzz work. He turns on the flashlight and a blue light pours out. Slowly, he moves the light across her body. As he reaches the base of her skull, he stops. “There.”

  I step closer and squint at the spot where the light is pointed. “I don’t see anything.”

  “You wouldn’t be able to; not without these.” He taps his glasses. “The good news, Ivy, is that I can see it.”

  “Great, get it out. What’s the bad news?”

  “The bad news is that I need to put you to sleep to get it out.”

  She drops her hair. “No. Don’t put me to sleep,” she says vehemently. “Please, don’t.” Panic creases her face and she vigorously shakes her head.

  I step around Buzz and gently place a hand on her shoulder. “If you want to stop BORAS, we need to work with him.”

  Her lips tremble and tears fill her eyes.

  Buzz comes around to stand beside me. “Do you trust my brother?”

  “With my life,” she answers without hesitation.

  “Then trust me.” He holds out his hand in invitation.

  She gazes at it for a long moment before taking hold. “Okay. I will.”

  All business, Buzz barks at me and Jims, “Let’s move. You two come with me.”

  Jims gets up to follow, I grab my visor, and we exit through another door.

  The door opens into a private hallway, and we pass a bathroom and head to another metal door with a digital lock. Buzz drops Ivy’s hand and punches in the code. “My lab is down here. It shouldn’t take me long to get the chip out. Then I’ll send you guys to a safe house until I uncover Eric’s plan.”

  Having no other option, we nod and follow Buzz down another hallway, through yet another door. When he flicks the light on, I see the room is lined with medical equipment, a hospital bed, a massive glass cabinet with medical bottles, and a computer table with a hologram in the center—which is in hibernation mode, showing the default world logo. Two large screens sit on either side of the logo. Ivy touches the floating hologram and watches the image glimmer under her fingers.

  Buzz walks over to the desk and taps the computer on, the screens flickering with visions of Disturbia.

  “Security?” I query, grasping for something to say to break the tension.

  He nods, sensing my discomfort. “All my rooms have them.”

  “Are we safe?” Ivy asks.

  “For now.” Buzz walks over to the hospital bed and pats the starched white mattress. “Hop up, darlin’.”

  She glances back at me and I nod for her to go ahead. She climbs onto the bed and lays down.

  “Jims,” Buzz barks, “grab that IV while I get the anesthesia ready.”

  Jims throws Buzz a snappy salute as he heads to the cabinet, grabbing an IV bag and a rack to hang it on.

  I lean down so I’m face-level with Ivy and place my hand on hers. “Everything’s going to be all right,” I promise.

  Her eyes water, but she gazes resolutely at the ceiling.

  “Been awhile since I’ve done one of these,” Jims grumbles as he slides over a tray table with a needle, bandages, and an IV bag.

  Filled with visions of him jabbing relentlessly into her arm as he attempts to locate a vein, I propose, “Maybe I should do it.” Though I would love to stay and hold her hand, I trust myself more than Jims.

  In this day and age, all of us have had basic medical training. It’s part of our schooling. Most kids never have to use any skill above administering basic first aid; however, Mom tends to over exert herself, and during the summer if she’s not careful, she dehydrates fast. I’ve had to give her fluids, twice, in the past two years.

  Jims takes me up on my offer and wanders off to talk to Buzz. I tune it all out, focusing on the sound of her breathing. My heart is racing again. Most days, I feel nothing but boredom or annoyance until I slip into a vid, but with Ivy, every sensation and emotion is in overdrive.

  Pull it together.

  Ivy rolls up her sleeve.

  Our eyes meet
.

  “I’ve done this before,” I assure her with what I hope is a comforting smile.

  She nods and one tear slips.

  It kills me.

  One little tear messes up my insides.

  I take a tourniquet and place it about six inches from where I’ll go in. I instruct her in a calm voice, “Make a fist.”

  Ivy squeezes her hand shut. I graze her skin lightly with my fingers, searching for a vein. When I find one, I anchor it down with my left thumb and insert the needle. Blood oozes into the catheter. While keeping the bandages in place, I pop the tourniquet off, flush it with saline, attach the tubing, and then go over to check if the drip chamber is dripping.

  “Good work.” Buzz slaps my shoulder. “I got the anesthesia ready to roll. Jims is setting up the rest.”

  Buzz pushes a white robotic arm closer to the hospital bed and begins tapping on the holographic screen it produces, which shows an x-rayed version of Ivy’s skull. Satisfied with what he sees there, he walks around to Ivy’s side and pushes her long hair away from her face. “We need to tie back your hair.”

  “I got it.” I step behind her and hold her hair.

  “Roll your head over to the right,” Buzz advises as he hangs another bag next to the saline drip.

  Finally speaking, her voice trembles as she asks, “What are you going to do to me?”

  “The chip is tiny,” Buzz answers. “I’ll need the x-ray to see it so I can pull it out. Shouldn’t take long. You’ll be out for an hour, no more.”

  She nods, steady resolve forming in her features.

  “Everyone ready?” Buzz asks, glancing at his two impromptu surgery assistants.

  “All set,” Jims replies, even though his job is to keep watching the security feeds.

  Buzz presses a button and the hologram on the x-ray zooms in. “Okay, Ivy. I need you to take deep breaths and try to relax.”

  Sweat dots her forehead. Her clammy hand is held tightly in mine.

  I lean over. “Want to hear something funny?”

  She blinks, working hard to stay awake. “Yes,” she responds groggily.

  “Jims sings opera show tunes in the shower,” I confide.

  “What did you say?” Jims perks his head up and Ivy laughs.

 

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