by Amy Ignatow
“Wow.”
“It was really something.”
“Sounds like it was.” Cookie leaned back and closed her eyes.
Down the stairs. To the left. Past the vending machine.
“He’s almost there,” she told Abe.
“So you hear him? Do you hear words?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of like when you’re talking to yourself in your head, only someone else is doing the talking, and they’re not talking to you.”
“But you cannot hear what I am thinking right now.” Abe looked worried.
“You’re thinking, ‘Scary black girl is scaring me.’”
Abe’s eyes widened. “I was not thinking that! I might have been feeling that, but I was not using those words in my head!”
“Oh my god, Abe, calm down. You’re going to rip the steering wheel off of its column. I’m messing with you. Unless you’re thinking about directions, or telling yourself what you want to do, I can’t hear you.”
“Then how did you know what I was feeling?”
“Are you serious?”
Abe nodded.
“I can tell what you’re feeling because I’m clearly the first black person that you’ve ever interacted with. When you work up the nerve to actually look at me it’s like you’re looking at a scary animal. Like I’m a tiger or something. It’s pretty clear what you’re feeling towards me.” Cookie looked back down at her phone.
They sat in silence. “You know,” Abe said after a moment, “if I get shunned I am going to have to get used to a lot of different sorts of people.” He relaxed his grip on the steering wheel. “Maybe it is good that you are black so that I can get used to people like you.”
“Yes,” Cookie said. “Thank goodness I’m here to gently introduce you to the exotic ways of my people.”
“Exactly!”
“Oh my god, shut up.”
“Why? What did I say?”
COOKIE!
In her mind Cookie could hear Ed calling out to her. He was deliberately thinking about how to get out of the room he was in, to go down the hallway, up the stairs, out the back delivery entrance and through the field up to the car . . .
CAN’T GET OUT. TRAPPED HERE.
“Something’s wrong.” Cookie whispered.
“What did I say?”
“You were being a dumb racist, but that’s not the problem right now. Ed’s trapped in the building. They’ve got him.”
Abe’s eyes widened. “We need to tell the others about kittens!”
“What’s that I heard about kittens?” Jay asked, popping his head into Cookie’s open window.
“GAAAH!”
“Hello gorgeous.”
Nick twisted around and teleported a few times to see if anyone had heard Cookie’s scream. She looked furiously at Jay, who was just happy to have her attention. Cookie quickly opened the door, knocking Jay aside before getting out of the car. “Oops,” she muttered as Nick helped him up.
“What were you saying about kittens?” Nick asked.
“They’ve got Ed. They somehow detected that he was there and now they have him.” Cookie said. “I think he’s trying to tell me that he wants us to go back to Philly to get Dr. Deery.”
“And what’s Dr. Deery supposed to do?” Farshad asked.
“Save him?” Martina asked.
“Rubbish,” Jay said, pulling dried leaves out of his hair. “He’d get caught as soon as he tried to get into the building.”
“And then we’d never get Dr. Deery’s cure,” Cookie said.
“Hmmph. I’m not so certain that a cure is what you all need, but we’ll address that issue at a later date,” Jay said. “We’ve got to get into that building, get the blood, and save Ed.” Jay looked at Abe. “And we’re going to get your Amish friend.”
Nick gawked at his friend. He was used to Jay telling him what to do, but it was very different to watch him take charge of other people. People who might not realize how deeply wacky Jay’s plans usually were. “Sounds great,” he said to Jay. “And exactly how are we going to do that?”
Jay turned around and grabbed Nick.
“MY GOD, MAN,” he yelled, “how many times do we have to go over this?” Jay looked around at the group. “YOU. HAVE. SUPERPOWERS.”
“WE. HAVE. OKAYISH POWERS,” Nick shot back, frustrated. “And we’re kids. We’re not super spies. We could also get caught and then what? End up trapped like Ed? Like Mr. Friend? Like the Amish kid?”
“We’re going to end up caught if we don’t go in there and get the blood,” Cookie said quietly. “They’re going to figure out that Farshad has been exposed to phlebotinum and then they’re coming after the rest of us. Ms. Zelle already suspects that something is up with me. We can’t let them have any proof.” She looked over at Farshad, who had taken off his jeans. “What are you doing???”
“Nice undies,” Martina observed.
“Okay, kindly look away while I put on clothing that makes me look like an adult.” Farshad quickly grabbed a pair of khakis out of his bag while Nick moved to shield him with his body. “You couldn’t have done this in your house?” Nick asked.
“I didn’t want them to get all messed up on the walk over,” Farshad said, pulling a leather belt through the loops in his pants. “Here,” he said to Abe, throwing him a buttoned long-sleeved shirt, “change into this.”
“I can’t wear this,” Abe said, aghast.
“Well, you can’t wear that,” Cookie said, eyeing his short-sleeved shirt and black suspenders. “You look Amish.”
“I am Amish!”
“Amish people don’t work in scientific laboratories, you dink.”
“It has buttons!”
“I can help you figure out the buttons.”
Abe turned so red Cookie began to believe that he would actually pass out from embarrassment. Jay gently pushed her aside and grabbed Abe’s arm. “Allow me,” he said, leading Abe into the woods near the car.
“This is crazy.” Nick fretted. “Do we even have a plan?”
“Yes.” Martina said. “Nick, you will use your power to get in the same back door that Ed went through and then let me, Cookie, and Jay in. Farshad and Abe will use Dr. Rajavi’s access card to go through the front door and pick up lab coats for us so that if security sees us on their cameras we’ll just look like anyone working in a lab. We’ll meet up with them to get our coats and split into three teams; Farshad and Abe, Jay with you, and me with Cookie, because Jay, Cookie, and Farshad know their way around the best.”
Nick stared at Martina. This was the most he’d ever heard her talk and it was freaking him out a little.
“Nick and Jay will look for the vials of blood,” Martina continued. “Farshad and Abe will look for Willis Fisher. And Cookie and I will look for Ed, because I’m the only one who can see him. Once we have the blood, Ed, and Willis, we can head back out through the back door and go our separate ways. We can meet up here.” Martina looked back down at her sketchbook as if she hadn’t just spoken ALL THE WORDS.
Nick, Cookie, and Farshad looked at each other, and then to Jay and Abe, who had emerged from the woods. Abe still looked like a teenager, but in a normal shirt and without his hat Nick figured that he might be able to pass for a college kid. Farshad was less hunched over. He was at least six feet tall and looked a lot older.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Farshad said.
“Wait,” Cookie said, walking up to Abe. She reached up to touch him and he immediately recoiled. “Stay still,” she commanded, and tousled his hair so that he looked less like an enormous toddler. “Look, I didn’t kill you. I touched you and you didn’t die. Although,” she said, taking a step back and surveying her work, “you still might. Breathe already.”
Nick looked at the rest of the group. Cookie looked like she was trying not to look worried. Farshad looked determined. Jay was nearly shaking with excitement, and Martina looked . . . Martina looked like she always looked, as if throwing one’s self int
o the deep end of the crazy pool was a perfectly pleasant way to spend an evening.
“Let’s do this,” Cookie said. “Let’s get some blood.”
Something about the way that Martina had spoken (or maybe the mere fact that she had spoken more than two sentences in a row) had made Farshad feel like the plan was really solid, but as they approached the imposing front doors of Auxano’s main building he began to feel less confident. Farshad knew that being tall and brown made him seem older, but having Abe silently freaking out next to him wasn’t helping to maintain that illusion.
“Just do what I do, okay?” Farshad said before they entered the lobby. “You just have to act confident, like you belong here.” Farshad wondered if he could channel his inner Cookie.
“But we don’t belong here,” Abe said. He looked incredibly uncomfortable in Farshad’s button-down shirt. “What if they start asking questions?”
“I’ll do all the talking,” Farshad said.
“And what if they talk to me?” Abe implored.
“I don’t know, pretend you don’t speak English,” Farshad said, pushing open the lobby doors.
When Farshad had come in with the field trip, Ms. Zelle had given the front desk receptionist a quick wave and then taken the group straight past her to where the lab coats and elevators were. Project assuredness, Farshad thought, walking confidently past the front desk. Act like you own the place. Act like Cookie Parker.
“Excuse me?” the front desk receptionist asked. Farshad stopped walking and turned around. He tried to smile without looking creepy.
“Yes?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I can’t talk long, we’re in a hurry.”
“You haven’t swiped your ID card,” the receptionist explained, eyeing them suspiciously.
“Oh,” Farshad said, “of course.” He dug his mother’s card out of his pocket and waved it at a small plastic black panel near the receptionist. Behind her he could see his mother’s ID photo pop up on the computer screen. DON’T TURN AROUND! his brain screamed to the woman, but she was looking at Abe, who was looking around at the modern lobby in complete wonder.
“Dr. Tam,” he said, using the fake name that Jay had assigned Abe. Farshad had thought it was silly at the time, but now he was grateful that he wasn’t using their actual names. Unfortunately, Abe seemed oblivious. “Dr. Tam,” Farshad growled. Abe looked at him, startled.
“You’ll have to excuse my colleague, he’s just in from overseas and he’s a little jet-lagged,” Farshad explained to the receptionist.
“Do you need a visitor’s pass?” the receptionist asked Abe.
“Ich habb dich nett fashtanna,” he said.
“I’m sorry, his English is a little rough,” Farshad said. “A visitor’s pass would be great.”
The receptionist nodded and handed Abe a neon sticker with the date stamped on it. Abe looked mystified as to what he was supposed to do with it. Farshad peeled the sticker off of its backing and slapped it on Abe’s chest. “Danki!” Abe said. The receptionist looked at him with undisguised curiosity. Abe smiled and waved at her.
“Okay, time to go now, they’re waiting for us,” Farshad said, steering Abe toward the hallway with the lab coats.
“How did I do?” Abe asked when they were out of earshot.
“Fine, but you’ve got to stop looking like you’ve never seen a corporate lobby before.”
“But I haven’t. It’s so big and there’s so much light. Have you ever been to the Taj Mahal?”
“You know I’m not Indian, right?”
“Really? What are you?” Abe asked.
“I’m American,” Farshad said.
They put on lab coats, gathered four more, and headed to the elevator. “Can I press the button?” Abe asked.
“Knock yourself out.” Abe looked inordinately pleased as he pressed the button and it lit up. “Abe. Seriously. Be cool.” Farshad said. Abe did his best to compose his face.
“You think I act like I own the place?” Cookie asked as soon as the elevator doors opened. She was standing in the hall with her hands on her hips next to Nick, Jay, and Martina. She was clearly annoyed.
“You heard that?” Farshad gaped. “I wasn’t thinking about directions!”
“You were directing yourself to do something, so I guess I heard you.”
“Guys,” Nick said in a low voice as he took one of the lab coats from Abe and put it on. “Now is not the time. If we somehow get out of this, then you can all be mad at each other.”
“Oh, I’m not mad,” Cookie said, snatching a coat. “I’m just projecting assuredness.” She put the coat on and the sleeves fell about four inches past her hands. “Seriously?”
“You are much shorter than you seem,” Martina observed.
“This makes me look like a toddler!”
“Or like you’re shrinking. Are you shrinking?” Martina asked Cookie.
“No,” Cookie growled, “I’m just short.”
“Hey, me, too!” Jay said, flapping his long lab coat sleeves in the air.
“Please stop,” Cookie said.
“Maybe roll up the sleeves or something?” Nick asked gingerly.
“Do we have any idea where they might be keeping Ed?” Nick asked as they walked through the warren of hallways underneath Auxano’s main building. “Can you hear him at all?” he asked Cookie.
“A little,” she said worriedly, “but he’s not thinking hard enough about directions.”
Farshad put his finger to his lips and pointed to a nearby door marked security. Once past the door Cookie grabbed Martina’s arm. “This way,” she said, pointing to the door marked stairway. “I think I can hear Ed and you need to tell me if you see him.”
Cookie turned to the rest of the group. “Once you’ve found the blood and the Amish kid, think really hard about how to get to the car. Martina and I will meet you there. If anything goes wrong . . .”
“Run for it.” Nick said.
“Exactly,” she said, and headed off down a hall with Martina.
“Ah,” said Jay, poking his head around the corner. “This is where Nicholas and I must part ways with the rest of you. I believe the blood was taken to a room down this hallway. Are you ready to walk through some walls?” he asked Nick.
“Not really, no,” Nick said.
“Excellent!” Jay bowed to Farshad and Abe. “Godspeed,” he said seriously, “and we shall see you on the other side.”
“Come on,” Nick said, grabbing his friend and heading down the hallway. “Good luck,” he added quietly over his shoulder.
Farshad looked at Abe. “Let’s try to find Willis Fisher,” he said.
They quickly discovered two kinds of doors: ones that were unlocked, which led to empty labs, break rooms, and utility closets, and locked ones. Farshad sighed. “He’s going to be in a locked room,” he said to Abe.
“Ach, yes,” Abe said. “How are we going to get in?”
“Well,” Farshad said, channeling Jay, “we have superpowers.” He reached over to a locked door and pressed his thumb into it. The lock bent like warm butter and the door popped open. Farshad smiled despite himself. Cool.
Inside was someone’s office. Farshad shrugged and moved on to the next locked door. Office. Office. Office. Private bathroom. Office. It occurred to Farshad that he was making a huge headache for the Auxano maintenance staff and he felt a little bad about it.
“This is different,” Farshad said, stepping into a dark room with what looked like an enormous horizontal window into another room. He took a step closer to look through the window.
“The fire man!” Abe whispered next to him.
Mr. Friend was there, strapped by his wrists and ankles to a metal bed, just as Farshad had seen him on the video feed in the security office. He was asleep, or possibly drugged. Farshad saw a door to the right of the window that led into Mr. Friend’s room.
“What do we do?” Abe asked.
Farshad had no idea. They could rescue Mr. Friend, but how
? Could he even wake up? Would they have to carry him out? Plus, what would happen once he was free? Would he go back to setting everything on fire? “I don’t know,” he admitted.
“Well, we cannot just leave him there, can we?” Abe asked. “He is strapped down.”
Farshad leaned his head against the window. Mr. Friend wasn’t going anywhere. “Look, if he’s here, then your friend is probably somewhere nearby. I say we find Willis and Ed, and then we can come back for Mr. Friend. Then they can help us carry him.”
Abe gave him a hard look. “Fine,” he said. They left the room, and it seemed to Farshad that their return was pretty unlikely.
Nick was trying to look like an adult. The lab coat helped—he felt very scientist-y, and at least he wasn’t swimming in his coat like Cookie and Jay. He wished he’d had the time to grow a mustache. He couldn’t really grow a thick one, but there was definitely hair between his mouth and his nose that he’d taught himself to shave off every few weeks.
After the group had split up, Jay led Nick down a long hallway to the lab where he’d last seen Farshad’s vial of blood. Nick stood next to the door, let go of Jay, and a moment later was on the other side. He opened it up.
“Fantastic work, old boy,” Jay said, clapping Nick on the back. “Really extraordinary. I feel like you’re getting more of a handle on this teleporting business every day.”
“Maybe,” Nick said. “I still can’t go farther than four inches.”
“Baby steps, Nicholas, baby steps. Or baby teleports.” Jay walked to a large, glass-front refrigeration unit. Inside were rows of vials of what looked like blood. Nick joined him.
“How are we going to be able to tell which one is Farshad’s?” Nick asked.
Jay opened the glass door and picked up one of the vials, squinting at the label. “Well this one isn’t his,” he said, putting it back. “This one belongs to Claire Jones.” He put it back and pulled out another vial. Nick leaned in to look at the label.