by Alice Reeds
“Hold on a second,” Miles said, and looked up at me. “Let’s say this company isn’t real. Who arranged all this? Who’s paying for the room?” He paused. “And why?”
I knew a clue to at least one of those questions. Should I tell him?
“Actually…” I started.
“Yeah?”
Paranoia aside, this was a crucial part of the puzzle. “I asked the receptionist about who booked our room earlier today,” I said and then sighed. “You won’t like the answer, though.”
“Tell me.”
“They don’t know who booked the room.”
He frowned. “This isn’t funny.”
“Do I look like I’m joking? I wasn’t sure if I believed it, either, but after this, Briola just vanishing somehow, it kind of makes sense.”
“Fiona, none of this makes sense. At all.”
If he was only acting a part in this, he deserved an Oscar for his performance. “Check the price of the room.”
Miles tapped his keyboard, looking all focused and stern. I controlled my breathing the way they’d taught me in kickboxing class in an effort to stay calm. Wanting to distract myself if only for a moment, I concentrated on the sun outside our window behind Miles, on the blue of the sky and the fluffy clouds moving along slowly. The change of his facial expression caught my eye.
“Three hundred and fifty euros per night,” he said, his voice completely flat.
“Are you serious?” Stupid question. Looking at this room, I could totally see why it would be that expensive. It was a great room with vintage furniture, free internet, a flat-screen TV, and even a damn balcony with a brilliant view. And that breakfast we were served…everything screamed money.
Miles pushed the laptop aside and then backed off the bed. “Get the money you took from the ATM.” Slightly confused, I followed his order and got my wallet.
We threw together our cash in the center of the bed, then Miles took it all and began counting. European money looked so different from U.S. dollars, was far more colorful, making differentiating between the bills easier, though I was confused by the lack of one-euro bills.
“Eighteen hundred euros,” he concluded.
“That’s a lot, isn’t it?” At least to me it was. For him, that was probably his weekly allowance or something.
“It is a lot. But for a bio tech company? Pocket change.”
I could hear my father now. How dumb I’d been to come here. To neglect my training. Well, he’d have to accept that getting through whatever this mess was would only make me stronger in the end.
“What if we try to call them?” Our parents had spoken with Briola. So there was at least a tiny chance that someone would pick up, possibly have answers, anything at all.
“Judging by the address and website, chances aren’t good.”
“We could still try. Damn it, we have to do something.”
He nodded and pulled out his phone, dialed the number from the email, and put the call on speaker.
“The number you have reached has been disconnected,” a monotone voice said. A sudden click indicated the call had ended. I’d known it wouldn’t work, yet somehow, I still felt disappointed.
“You know what I think?” Miles asked while putting his phone down next to his laptop.
Something told me I didn’t want to. “What?”
“I think we should get out of here, go to the airport, and try to get the quickest plane back home.”
Fair point. Briola was gone. The room had been booked for us seemingly by no one. And there was no guarantee that what money we had would last long enough to figure out this mystery.
What if this was the moment when Miles would lead me into some kind of trap? But how could he? There was no chance of anyone at the airport being in on whatever was going on. That just seemed too out there even for this, or so I hoped. Also, if I fought him on this, who knew if it would make things worse for me, or if it would clue him in on the fact that I was suspicious of him.
Besides, if we went home, I could confront Joe. Demand he explain that cryptic warning.
“What about the room?”
“To hell with the room,” he said and threw his hands in the air. “I don’t plan on paying for it, do you?”
Now that confused me. “What are you talking about? You are aware that rooms get paid for beforehand, right?”
“Not in Europe. Here, you pay afterward, not before.”
“Okay. But what if we get caught?” Breaking rules, going against authority. That never went over well—not with my father, anyway.
“Easy,” Miles said. “We just don’t get caught.”
I frowned. “And how are we supposed to do that?”
“Don’t you watch spy movies?” He ran his hands over his face and into his hair. “When the night shift starts, only one person is down there, right? One of us will start a conversation with them and the other will sneak past with our stuff. And then we’ll disappear.”
“Really?” I wasn’t convinced at all.
Miles gave me a challenging look. “You have a better idea?”
Joe had said I shouldn’t trust anyone. But right now, I didn’t have a better option. And maybe Miles was just that good at playing me, but what if I was wrong and he was a victim here, too?
“Fine,” I said. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter Seven
The Island
“Do you remember which way you went?” Miles asked.
Everything in the jungle looked like more of the same again and again, like someone had lazily designed a Minecraft biome where you’d get lost without a compass in two minutes flat.
But some things stood out to me. Odd-shaped trees with strangely growing branches. I’d passed those before. A splintered bark that looked like it might’ve been struck by lightning at some point. A cluster of bushes dotted with blue flowers.
“That way.” I pointed in that direction and up to where we would have seen the smoke if not for the heavy foliage.
“You sure?”
He didn’t know I’d taught myself to remember my surroundings since that awful day at the park when I was five. I couldn’t get lost again. Not like that.
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
“Well then, lead the way,” Miles said, and made a sweeping motion with his arm.
We didn’t talk much, besides the repeated question from Miles whether I was sure we were headed in the right direction. But still, it felt nice having him with me. An extra pair of eyes and ears. If something came for us, two were better than one.
At first he’d been wobbly on his legs, the two of us starting out much slower than I had on my own, but the longer we walked the surer he seemed to get. Maybe he really did feel better like he said back at the beach. Not that it would matter much, depending on the success, or lack thereof, of our search.
About halfway, or what I thought was halfway, we came across a banana tree. I’d never really been the biggest fan of bananas, hated them as a kid, but right about now I didn’t even care. It was something to eat, and in our situation, I didn’t have the luxury of being picky. Getting them off the tree required me having to actually climb it under Miles’s watchful, and just a little doubtful, eye, but I got it done.
With a bunch of bananas in hand and squished into our pockets—skinny jeans with shallow pockets really sucked—we continued on our way. After eating I immediately felt better, stronger, and ready to face whatever waited for us at the cockpit. Miles’s face also had its normal color back, and his steps seemed surer, stronger.
“That’s where I saw it earlier,” I said, and pointed toward the fallen tree I’d climbed on. We’d made great progress.
“Which means we must be close to that animal’s territory,” he said, looking around. So far, we hadn’t seen anything. No signs of the beast, nothing that would indicate that this was part of its territory, no traces on the ground, no scratches on the trees like the ones boars left. Then again, it wasn’t like a beast c
ould just pull a metal fence around what it thought belonged to it and put a Keep Out sign on it.
“Let’s give this area a wide berth,” I said. “Just in case.”
So we made a circle around the tree. Of course, there was no guarantee that we were avoiding anything.
But the farther we went, the more I felt hopeful that maybe we’d be lucky this time. Maybe I’d just been unlucky before, and by now it had forgotten I’d even been there, or maybe it deemed me not an easy enough source of food, too tricky to catch to be worth it or something. Still, I paid attention to every snap of a branch, every rustling of leaves, paid attention where I stepped and reminded Miles to do the same a few times.
“There,” Miles said after what felt like hours more of walking. He stopped mid-step and grabbed my arm, then he raised his other hand and pointed at something through the leaves. I followed his finger, tried to make out what he thought he could see, and suddenly I saw it, too.
A large object reflecting the sunlight. Something white and metallic. We pushed through the branches and saw it clearly. The front of the plane and the cockpit.
We actually found it!
Turning my head, I looked up at Miles. Our eyes met, and both of us smiled at each other for a moment. We’d made it, somehow. After the hell of the rest of the day, this one small victory felt huge.
“I’m pleasantly surprised,” Miles admitted. “I would’ve put my money on you not having a single clue where we were going.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“You’re very welcome.”
“Goes to show that you shouldn’t underestimate me,” I said instead of agreeing with him. I hadn’t believed I would find the plane, either. Technically I hadn’t, he did. But we weren’t lost, thanks to me, and that had to count for something. “Let’s find the pilot.”
Slowly we approached the plane, the eerie quiet around us making me nervous. It didn’t necessarily mean the pilot was dead or had moved on. Maybe he was hiding, worried that the beast would come for him if he made any noise. I had to believe he was okay. He had to be okay.
“Hello?” I called out. “Anybody here?”
No response.
The walls that connected the cockpit to our part of the plane were just as jagged and frayed as ours, small pieces of metal littering the ground around it, but the door was still closed. I pulled on it with no result. Miles joined me, but even working together, it wouldn’t budge. The only option was the front, the nose slightly sticking up off of the ground, the ripped end digging into the ground the way our front part was.
Even as tall as Miles was, it was clear that he couldn’t reach high enough to get in on his own. “Help me up onto the front of the plane,” he said.
He put one foot in my clasped hands, and I held him up and steady while he grabbed whatever he could and pulled himself up.
“I see him,” Miles said. “He’s in the cockpit!”
“Yes!” Yes. Yes. Yes—
“Oh…shit. Fiona…”
My fragile hope cracked like a piece of glass. Miles slowly turned his head and looked down at me, his eyes sad and apologetic.
“He’s dead.”
Chapter Eight
Berlin
“I still think this is a horrible idea,” I said while we stood in the elevator going down to the lobby.
“I blend in,” Miles said. “One cannot not notice you with that hair of yours, which means you have to take her attention off of the lobby so I can sneak past. Just accept that.” He looked down at me. Each time I stood next to him I was reminded of just how tall he was, surely over six feet. He’d changed back into a pair of dark jeans, dark shoes, a light gray shirt and black jacket, while his obsidian-colored hair was still a mess that almost seemed like it was planned to look that way.
Miles and I couldn’t have looked more different. My blue hair fell over my shoulders, and I was back in my comfy jeans, T-shirt, and hoodie. The last thing I wanted was for people to think we might be related—or worse, in a relationship.
The door slid open, and Miles whispered, “Show time.” I took a deep breath and stepped forward with my small bag hanging off my shoulder, leaving Miles behind with our two suitcases, both small enough that he could make it through the lobby without drawing attention. He stacked mine onto his to make it even easier. For others it hopefully looked like I was just about to leave for the city, for a party or something, not like I was planning on sneaking out of the country.
Miles nudged me out of the elevator because I wasn’t fast enough, it seemed, and I made my way toward reception. The same woman sat behind the desk as before. Her eyes were fixed on the monitor to her right and underlined with dark circles. I guessed she was exhausted after working all day. Maybe the fact that she was tired would help us, somehow.
“Good evening,” I said, slightly nervous, leaning against the desk with my elbows.
The woman looked up from her monitor at me. She seemed almost surprised that I was standing in front of her, like she hadn’t even noticed me before I spoke.
“Good evening,” she replied. “How can I help you?”
“Well, I was wondering where in the area I could get a bite to eat, nothing too fancy, rather something more…” I stopped for a moment to come up with a fitting word. “Unique, perhaps?”
She looked at the watch on her right wrist. “At past nine p.m.?”
“I know it’s a totally weird time but, you know, with the jet lag and all, I’m just craving food right now.” I tried to sound convincing, as far as that was even possible with a stupid story like that, and the fact that the hotel offered room service. I was glad she was the one I was talking to and not some guy. Though, lying to her face and just this entire shitty plan in general were hard enough to go through with.
“Of course.” For a moment she stayed silent, maybe thinking about places to eat. “Do you happen to have a map or phone?”
I looked around and noticed a bunch of tourist type maps of Berlin laying on the other end of the desk. Those would take up more of her field of vision than my phone. I picked up one of them, unfolded it, and placed the map between us while positioning myself a bit closer in hopes of obscuring her view of the lobby behind me.
She took a pen and started to point at different locations on the map, drawing a circle or two in several places while explaining what each of them was. I pretended to listen while I looked over my shoulder as inconspicuously as I could and spotted Miles making his way across the lobby. It wasn’t that big of a distance, forty feet at most, doable.
The receptionist looked up, noticing me look at something and turning in her chair just a bit. Hastily I asked her to clarify some directions I certainly hadn’t actually listened to, and moved a little toward her, my arms spread out a little more, hopefully blocking her view.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, possibly, or rather definitely, noticing my strange behavior. Damn it.
“Definitely, just really hungry.”
She looked at me for a moment longer and then pointed at something more on the map. I looked over my shoulder again. Just in that moment Miles finally made it to the door and slipped outside.
“Fabulous,” I said through a fake smile. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”
“I hope you’ll find your way and that those places are really open at this time. I’m not entirely sure, unfortunately.”
“I’m sure it’ll be okay. Thank you again.”
“Didn’t you arrive with a boy?” she asked and looked around as though she expected to see Miles somewhere waiting for me.
“Yes, but he isn’t feeling too great, so he stayed in the room, already asleep like a rock, so it’s just me.” I hoped she wouldn’t send anyone up to our room to check on Miles. Did hotels even do something like that?
“Be careful. Berlin is a dangerous city at night, even more so depending on where you go.”
“I will. Thanks again and good night,” I
said, smiled again, and folded the map.
I tried to walk out of the hotel looking as casual as possible, not suspicious like someone who was just about to flee without paying. Miles truly had the ability to bring out the worst version of me. Away from home for only a day and I was already turning into a lying criminal, even if Miles was trying his best to help. Or maybe it was part of some plan to get me into trouble, so whoever the bad guys were would have an easier time doing whatever they planned on doing, whatever Joe knew and made them a danger to me. All of this just sucked so hard.
“That was awful,” I said once I caught up with Miles outside.
“Now that’s what I call teamwork. See, it wasn’t that bad,” he said with a smug smile that I would have loved to slap away. I rolled my eyes instead.
“Let’s get going before they smell the lie and come after us.” I took my bag and suitcase from him. He just shook his head with that smile still way too present.
The thing about Berlin was that they had a lot of different types of public transportation. They had buses and metro buses, trams and metro trams, and something called S- and U-Bahn, which were basically under and over ground trains. And they also had normal trains. How did the people of Berlin not get lost in all of that? According to the internet, we had to take the S-Bahn and a bus in order to get to the airport, one of two that Berlin offered.
Briefly I wondered what we’d say or do if someone stopped us to ask why we were out so late at night, but all I could do was hope that we were inconspicuous enough that no one would notice. It wasn’t like “we committed a crime” was written on our foreheads or anything, and Berlin was a tourist city, after all, so hopefully we’d look like any other tourists to onlookers.
After a handful of minutes of nothing but walking, we reached the Potsdamer Platz, from where we had to take said S-Bahn. At the station, we followed signs that directed us to where the S1 stopped. On the way, we stumbled across one of their ticket machines, which luckily had the option of changing the language to English. We bought two normal AB zone tickets and made our way over to the platform.