Sergeant Snow grabs the plastic bag with our dirty clothes.
“Wait,” I tell him. “I forgot something.”
I carefully dig around in the bag until I find my old pants. Then I reach into the pocket and remove the laminated “Get Out of Jail Free” card that Gunner gave me.
“I need this.” I place the card in the front pocket of my new khakis for safekeeping.
“Ready now?” Sergeant Snow eyes me impatiently.
“Ready,” I assure him.
“Good. Let’s go.”
We follow him out of the storage room and down the corridor until we reach what looks like a ventilation area.
“This is it,” Sergeant Snow tells us. “The ventilation system will pause in a few minutes. You’ll have ninety seconds to get through this section of the shaft to the other side before it starts up again. Once you’re on the other side, you’ll get further instructions.”
“You’re not coming with us?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “We’ve worked too hard to infiltrate the base. We can’t risk having my cover blown. What we’re doing right now, to get you and JoJo out, is risky enough.”
“You’re not coming either?” I direct the question to Falcon.
He also gives a head shake, but he won’t make eye contact with me.
“I don’t want to go without you,” I tell him.
“You have to. My place is here. This is all I know. This is who I am. This was what I was raised to do.”
“You can do something else with your life. You can be someone else. If you want to.”
“You need to go,” he replies bluntly.
As my heart sinks, my chest tightens. I feel like I can’t breathe. Tears begin to stream down my face. I don’t know why I feel so attached to Falcon. I haven’t known him that long. Why do I feel like I can’t leave without him?
The loud fan noise coming from the ventilation system stops.
“You need to go,” Sergeant Snow urges. “Now. You don’t have much time.”
Falcon still hasn’t looked at me. So I place my hand on his cheek. His entire body stiffens in response.
But at least he finally looks at me.
When our eyes meet, there’s so much energy exchanged between us, it takes my breath away.
“You need to go!” Sergeant Snow repeats. “You’re going to run out of time.”
JoJo hurries into the ventilation shaft. I follow right behind her.
The space is cramped and hot. We have to crawl on all fours to make our way through the tunnel. Just as we’re getting close to the light at the other end, my pant leg gets caught on something.
I’m stopped in my tracks.
“Wait,” I say to JoJo.
She glances back at me. “What is it?”
“I’m stuck.”
“On what?”
“I’m not sure.”
I yank my leg and try to get my pants loose, but it doesn’t work. The edge of my hem is wedged into a seam on the tunnel floor.
Without hesitating, JoJo turns around in the tight space, then jams herself between me and the wall of the tunnel. She grabs my pant leg and tugs so hard that we both fall back when it finally comes loose.
The bottom of my pant leg is torn off, but at least I’m free.
“Let’s get out of here,” she says as she turns back around.
Then she crawls as quickly as she can through the rest of the tunnel.
She’s so fast that it’s a struggle to keep up with her, but I know I have to do it. Neither one of us wants to be stuck in this shaft when the ventilation starts back up again.
It’s a relief when we finally make it out of the hot, sticky tunnel and land in a much cooler cave. And with only a few seconds to spare before the loud fans awaken with a roar.
“Thanks for helping me out of that jam,” I tell JoJo.
“Don’t get used to it. I might not always be there to save your ass.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Gunner steps out of the shadows and gives me a big hug.
My jaw drops. “What are you doing here?” Then I pinch his upper arm.
“Ouch. What did you do that for?”
“I wanted to make sure you weren’t an illusion.”
“Nope. No illusion. It’s really me, in the bruised flesh.”
I roll my eyes at him. “I didn’t pinch you that hard.”
He points to my torn pant leg. “Nice khakis. It didn’t take you very long to get yourself in trouble.”
“What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“Your ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card. There’s a reason it’s laminated. I put a radio-frequency tracking device inside of it. I knew you’d never go anywhere without it.”
I stare at the card. “Are there tracking devices that small?”
“The government has tracking devices so small they can place them in currency or postage stamps. And there’s a trend toward increased miniaturization. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that the companies currently developing those microchips have deep ties to Homeland Security and the Pentagon.”
I’m not sure whether to be mad that he’s been tracking me or grateful for his scheme.
“As much as I’d like to take all the credit for finding you, I had a lot of help.” He points to a dark area of the cave.
Nico steps forward. “We’d better get going. We’ve got a long hike ahead of us.”
“How did the two of you find each other?” I ask.
“I found Nico doing work on your trailer.”
When Gunner eyes JoJo, I realize I’m being rude.
“This is JoJo,” I say by way of introduction. “This is my best friend, Gunner, and Nico.”
She gives them both a blank stare. But at least it’s not a snarl or an evil glare, which is progress.
“You’ll each need to take a backpack.” Nico points to two packs against the wall of the cave. “We’ve each got two days’ worth of supplies.”
“Hold up. Are you saying that we’re going to be walking for two days?” The last time I walked a mile was in physical education class in high school, and that was under duress. My teacher threatened to fail me if I didn’t complete the hike with my classmates. When I finally made it to the finish line, I felt like I was going to die or that I wanted to kill myself.
“It’s a two-day hike to Central Operations,” Nico says.
“How many miles away is that?” My voice cracks. I already feel like I’m being tortured, and we haven’t even started walking yet. I suppose it could be worse. I could be back at the military base, and they really could be torturing me.
Or worse.
I could be dead.
“Forty-five miles,” he says simply. As if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “All underground.”
I’m stunned by his response. The underground passage we’re in looks rugged and undeveloped.
“This passageway goes for forty-five miles?” The question sounds stupid as soon as I say it.
“There is an underground tunnel system under most of North America,” Nico replies. “Not all of the passageways are this rough. Major routes have more elaborate and better-developed tunnels. We’ll pick up one of those tomorrow, when I can be sure that we’re not being followed.”
He hoists one of the large backpacks off the ground and hands it to me. It’s heavy.
Really heavy.
When I glance over at JoJo, she doesn’t look bothered by the weight at all. She swings the pack onto her back like it’s no heavier than a light jacket.
If I do eventually make it out of the underground tunnel system alive, I may have to give some serious consideration to joining a gym.
I heave the pack onto my back and nearly topple over from the weight. Fortunately, Gunner grabs my arms for counterbalance, or I may have landed on my butt.
“Let’s get moving,” Nico says. “We have a lot of ground to cover before we hit a safe post where we can stay for the night.”
He hands me and JoJo flashlights. I notice Gunner is wearing one strapped to his head. It makes him look like a coal miner.
“I need to use someone’s phone. I need to contact my aunts and tell them I’m okay.”
Gunner raises an eyebrow. “You do realize there’s no cell-phone coverage underground.”
I guess that should have been more obvious. Even JoJo is looking at me like I’m the dimmest bulb in the socket.
“No phones,” Nico tells me. “You won’t be able to use a cell phone again. Ever.”
“No cell phone?” He can’t be serious. How can someone survive without a cell phone? “Ever again?” My voice cracks.
“You think cell phones are a convenience. A necessity of modern life. You think you need to be constantly connected, online, in touch, available at the click of a button. You believe that because that’s what they want you to believe. They want you to think that you can’t live without your phone. Why? Because it’s a tracking and monitoring device. Every human being in the country is under constant surveillance, and you do it voluntarily. They know everywhere you go. Everything that you say and do and everyone you say it and do it with. All that information neatly stored away for whenever they need it. If you don’t want them to find you, you can’t use a phone again. Ever.”
“How will I let my aunts know I’m okay? They must be worried sick about me.”
“You can’t have contact with your aunts again,” he says much too bluntly.
“Ever?”
“Never.”
That hits me like a sack of rocks right in the gut. “Why not?”
“It’s too risky. They’re under constant surveillance. If you make contact, they won’t just kill you. They’ll kill your aunts too.”
I let his words sink in. No contact with my aunts ever again. I realize now that I didn’t value them enough. I didn’t truly appreciate everything they did for me. Now I’ll never get the chance to tell them how much they mean to me.
“Are we done with the small talk?” JoJo says. “If we’ve got a lot of hiking ahead of us, we’d better get going.”
“There’s actually a person on Earth who is just as bossy as Jericho.” Gunner eyes JoJo. “I didn’t think I’d live to see the day.”
I expect JoJo to give Gunner one of her cold glares. Instead, her eyes soften, and she gives him the hint of a smile. “Let’s get going, then.”
When Nico takes off, I do my best to keep up with him. JoJo follows close behind me, and Gunner takes up the rear. The tunnel is about four feet wide and eight feet high. Not quite wide enough for us to walk in pairs.
The air is musty and damp. Cool enough to make me wish I had a jacket. Hopefully, the physical exercise will warm me up as we go.
I don’t want to focus on Falcon, but he keeps invading my thoughts. Will he join the list of people I will never be able to have contact with?
A shroud of sadness grips me when I think about the possibility of never seeing Falcon again. It’s not just the loss of the deep connection that we shared that feels so tragic. It’s also the loss of any potential relationship that we might have shared in the future.
I’ve never felt the way I felt with anyone but Falcon. The butterflies in my stomach and the electricity coursing through my body. The stuff of fairy tales and cheesy romance novels. Being with him gave me all the feels.
What if I never feel that way with another guy? What if Falcon was the one, if there is such a thing?
“Jericho,” Gunner says, “you’re awfully quiet. I expected a deluge of dramatic stories by now. No tall tales you want to share with us?”
“Don’t encourage her,” JoJo tells him.
“I don’t feel like talking about it,” I reply.
“That’s a first,” Gunner says.
“She’s sulking because her boyfriend wouldn’t come with us.”
“Boyfriend?” Gunner nearly chokes on the word.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.” I’ve never had one. Now I wonder if I ever will.
“The two of you sure looked gooey-eyed over each other,” JoJo adds.
“Who’s the guy?” Gunner asks.
“It’s not important,” I snap. “He’s not here, is he?”
“Just curious. You don’t have to bite my head off.”
“Sorry. This has all been very stressful.”
“Did they do mind-control experiments on you?” Gunner sounds a little too excited asking the question.
I heave a sigh. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“I knew the government never really stopped its mind-control and psychic-spy development programs even after STARGATE and MK-ULTRA were shut down.”
I feel like I’m in a nightmare that’s never going to end. I may have escaped from the military, but it sounds like they’ll always be watching and waiting for me to make that one mistake that will cost me my life.
Is that why my mom took off and didn’t let anyone know where she was going? Was she afraid for her life? I always thought she wasn’t interested in contacting me, but maybe she didn’t because she was trying to protect me.
I wonder what it means for Gunner that he’s helping me escape. Will he be able to lead a normal life again, or will he have a target on his back as well?
“So how’d you get the name Gunner?” JoJo asks. She surprises me with the question. For someone who doesn’t seem to care about anyone other than herself, she seems quite interested in Gunner.
“My parents own a gun shop. Guns are their life. The only thing they love as much as guns is watching old movies. It could have been worse. They could have named me Mel. Or Gibson. He’s their favorite actor.”
“Please don’t tell me they named their gun shop Lethal Weapon.”
“Oh yes, they did. And the shop is located on the corner of Riggs Road and Murtaugh Avenue.”
“How did they manage that?”
Gunner laughs. “Riggs Road was already one of the main streets in town. They sweet-talked the mayor into changing the name of the cross street by giving him a good deal on an AK-47. He’s one of their regular customers.”
“Crazy.” Then she laughs. A genuine expression of pleasure, not a sarcastic one. I didn’t realize she was capable of that type of emotion.
“And how did you get the name JoJo?” Gunner asks.
“I was named after my grandfather. He was a fairly well-known jazz musician. I think my mom thought if she named me after him, I’d get some of his musical talent too.”
“Did it work?”
“I guess I’ll have to play for you someday and let you be the judge of that.”
“I hope you do.” I’m struck by the sincerity in Gunner’s voice. He seems to have taken a quick liking to JoJo. He’s usually warier and more guarded when he first meets someone. He always tries to figure out their angle before he lets anyone get close.
That doesn’t seem to be the case with JoJo, though.
“Maybe we can have some quiet time,” Nico suggests. Although coming from him, it sounds more like a demand than a request.
We all get lost in our own thoughts as we continue our hike. The monotony of the scenery, or lack thereof, starts to put me into a trance.
That’s when I catch a glimpse of Falcon. He’s in a cramped room, strapped to a chair.
Captain Brooks and Dr. Palmer are on either side of him, staring down at him.
“He’s been compromised,” Dr. Palmer says. “I have no idea how it happened.”
“You need to find out,” Captain Brooks snaps. “We’ve invested too much in the program and in our assets to lose one like this.”
“I think I can rebuild his psyche. Wipe everything and start with a clean slate.”
“You’re sure this won’t happen again?”
Dr. Palmer cracks his knuckles. He doesn’t look sure at all. “I can assure you that I’ll do my best, sir, to avoid situations like this in the future.”
Captain Brooks moves in close to Fal
con. He’s so close I’m sure Falcon can feel the captain’s breath on this cheek. “Put him in solitary for a few days first. That should break him down a bit.”
“Absolutely,” Dr. Palmer says. “Is there anything else?”
“Just take care of this mess, and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Falcon is staring straight ahead. He has no visible reaction to anything that’s going on around him or to anything the two men are saying. He doesn’t even seem to be aware that I’m in the room, watching.
I try to make eye contact with him. Try to get inside and feel what he’s feeling. But I have no luck connecting with him like I used to.
Has Dr. Palmer already done something to him? Has he started cleaning the slate?
I’m overwhelmed with emotion. Anger. Sadness. Frustration. Helplessness. Fear.
How can they do this to him? How can they take away his feelings? How can they steal his memories?
Aren’t they the things that make us who we are? The things that make us human?
They’re turning him into a monster. He’ll be nothing more than an empty shell. A shadow of his former self.
Tears begin to stream down my cheeks. I do my best not to snuffle. I don’t want the others to know that I’m crying.
That’s when I remember that I never got my pendant back from Falcon. He still has the necklace my mother gave me. Will he be able to remember who it’s from and why he has it?
“Are you okay, Jericho?” Gunner asks.
Talk about being tuned into another person. Gunner has a sixth sense when it comes to reading me.
“Not really,” I admit because I know lying to Gunner is a fruitless endeavor. It’s almost as ineffective as lying to a school librarian when she questions you about why a book is overdue. As guardians of their collections, librarians always seem to have a keen sense of exactly where their books have been and what’s been done to them. Gunner seems to have a similar sensitivity to my every mood.
“We can stop for a snack break in a few minutes,” Nico offers. “Maybe that will help.”
Chapter Eight
Animal crackers. That’s what was packed in my bag for my snack. Neither Nico nor Gunner had any idea how the box of cookies got there, though.
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