by Stacey Nash
My mind soars out of the haze. “Put me down.”
Jax sets me on my feet with a small smile. We’re in the hallway. A man sprawled on the floor looks to be unconscious. The sound of footsteps beat toward us from both directions.
I peer down the hallway from one side to other so fast my head threatens to spin. “Where’s Will?”
Jax shrugs and turns up his bottom lip.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Loud noises fill the air—doors slamming closed, a multitude of footsteps marching closer, and commanding voices yelling. We’ve got to get out of here, and fast.
“Where’s Will? He can’t have just disappeared.”
Jax doesn’t hear me. He pulls out his blade and holds up a gun in his other hand, preparing to fight. Darkly dressed agents rush around the far corner like a swarm of wasps. Jax takes aim and fires the revolver. An agent falls to the ground. Jax pushes me behind him and backs toward the corner. Bullets fly. They zoom past us and ricochet off the walls, floor, and ceiling.
We reach the corner, and noises echo down the hall like they’re coming from behind us as well. He swivels, trying to shoot both ways at once. His erratic shots aren’t successful; only one in three finds its mark. The people move ever closer. My breaths come in desperate gulps, my chest pains, my stomach turns to rock. There’s no way he can hold off so many of them. I pull my dagger out, but it won’t help in a fight of two against twenty. We need another way.
I close my arms around his waist, contort myself into an awkward half-bend, and rub my thumb over both parts of the cover-up. A shiver slithers down my spine. The indication we’re invisible makes my breathing slow despite the shouts and yells of surprise from agents.
He tugs me along, up against the wall, shuffling together down the hall. Bullets ping off every surface in quick succession, but now they’re way off target. Voices rise and fall in angry waves.
“We’re outta here,” Jax says.
“We have to go back for Lilly. And what about Will?” Fear grips my throat, but hope reasons with it. Hope he’s waiting with her.
Jax doesn’t answer as we continue moving. It could be because he doesn’t know, or because he doesn’t care. Maybe he’s just concentrating on keeping us safe from the hall teeming with agents. They move around us in every direction, creating a sea of black. The only difference in their uniforms are small badges sewn onto their wide collars; stars of red, blue, green, yellow, and small numbers which seem to be unique to each individual. Every single one of them carry weapons: guns or blades or maces or batons.
I have to suck my stomach in to edge around a woman with two foot-long wooden sticks joined together by a chain. We dodge and swerve amongst them, weaving our way through to emerge out the other side.
A shaky sigh of relief wheezes out of me. “This is it.”
We stop outside a door, neither moving, both waiting. Jax must be having the same thought as me. How are we going to do this without them seeing the door open? It’d be a dead giveaway.
We can’t just stand here because agents continue moving through the hallway. The group we passed through, now halfway up the hall, is meeting the ones coming from the other direction. Neither group stops; they weave between one another and continue out the other side. The second group, bathed in the eerie red glow, comes toward us. I glance from them, to the door, and back to them again. Each step closer makes my heart beat a little louder. They’re coming too quickly we can’t… we can’t get away. Jax opens the door and drags me into a dark room. The door swings closed.
“Oh my God, Jax. That was stupid. They could have seen the door.”
He disentangles himself from my arms, turning visible with our broken contact, and stands with his ear to the door. “It was risky, but we had no choice.”
“Lamp,” he says aloud.
The night shade bursts on, casting a soft light around the empty room. “Welcome to room nineteen,” chimes the automation. A bowl stands on the table, and beside it is a towel soaked red with Al’s blood. It’s definitely the right place. The bed cover has brown marks and spots of red liquid. I run my thumb over both parts of the cover-up.
“Looks like they’ve ported.” He leans close and unpins my brooch, fastening it to his own shirt. “Suit me?”
“What?”
“The brooch, does it bring out my eyes?”
“Seriously?” My eyes roll. Jokes, now? I reach out, rub my finger over the brooch, then do the same to the pendant. The telltale shiver goes through me, but I can still see him. “Are we both invisible?”
“I felt it.”
“Me too.” I walk into the bathroom, and he follows. Glancing into the mirror, I see no reflection from either of us. We’re safe. This will be much easier.
“Good,” he says.
“We have to go back for Will.”
“No. Those hallways are teeming with agents. I need to keep you safe.”
“I’m not leaving him here.” I can’t. I turn to leave the room, but he grabs my arm and pulls me back to him.
His face is inches from mine, our bodies almost touching. “You will jeopardize everyone’s safety. He will be okay. I promise.”
My heart hammers in my throat. This isn’t the right choice. “You don’t know that. Will… all those agents. We can’t, Jax, we just can’t leave him. Besides, how did you get separated?”
“I’m not sure. I ran into the room when I heard the door slam.”
He releases my arm, grabs my hand, and pulls me out of the room. We almost run headlong into an agent. His wicked-looking sword nearly nicks my leg. Jax dodges to the side, hauling me along behind him. My head comes into teeth-shattering contact with the agent’s hip.
“Ouch. What was that?” The agent spins around, looking for what hit him. He lashes out with his sword, but it’s too late; we’re well out of his reach.
“Will.”
“Actually, my name’s Jax.”
“I was calling his name. He might hear me.”
“Enough, Mae. Just follow me.”
We race down the hall, dodging in and out of the searchers’ paths. The soft red glow which seems to come from the walls themselves still illuminates the hallway. Agents open and close doors, checking rooms with systematic urgency.
We enter the stairwell and climb up to the ground floor. As we emerge, I suck in a quick breath and stop dead in my tracks. This floor’s not bathed in an artificial red glow. Instead, it’s a natural, deep orange. Looking up, I realize it’s the sunset reflecting off all the shiny surfaces, making them look like precious stones. Sun streams in through panels of glass in the ceiling.
I slam into something, whooshing all the air out of my lungs. Jax’s arm barricades my path, just stopping me from colliding with a pair of agents. They march straight past, their gazes swinging back and forth across the hallway. Their search lacks the same urgency as below.
My heart rushes again with adrenaline. We creep along the corridor toward the store room where we entered the building. We push on, and the small door we first entered through comes into view. Jax scrapes the back of his hand over his face, and looks like he’s going to curse.
Agents stand shoulder to shoulder, guarding it.
We don’t stop.
My hand quivers in his. How are we going to escape?
“There are other ways out,” Jax says.
We continue to the next corner of the hallway. This one’s not like the others. It’s grander. The huge, sculptured images on either side of the towering stone doorway make me feel tiny and insignificant. The massive wooden doors we saw from the outside stand like imposing guards on the opposite side of the hall, and they’re just as grand as those they mirror. Jax pulls me toward the wooden doors. I pull back against him. This has to be a trap. Walking out of the building seems far too easy.
I dart glances at the hall, the door, the sidewalk, the road, and the park beyond. It looks safe, but surely it’s not. I’m not certain enough to
move. There. Shadows dark as midnight crouch in the shade of the statues, hands resting on weapons, poised on their toes, waiting to pounce. Good thing we’re invisible. The thought floods relief through me. Hand in hand, we tiptoe down the steps and into the cool, crisp air of dusk.
I yank Jax back moments before a car whizzes along the road. We run across and into the park. My heart beats fast, thudding against my chest. We made it. Taking deep breaths, I force it to slow. Don’t get too excited yet, we’re not home clear. Deep in the park with elms all around us, we slow the pace. Sharp pain shoots up my leg. A high-pitched sound comes from deep within me, and I struggle to stand straight as I walk.
My hand slips from Jax’s, and he jerks to a stop. He swivels and shoots me a look which questions why I’ve stopped. His gaze falls to my thigh, and he holds out his arm as an offering. Placing my weight on his forearm, I let him help me. Without Will’s accusing gaze, I’m grateful for the support. God, I hope Will’s okay. Strange. It stopped hurting before. I didn’t feel any pain in our flight through the Council building. It must have been the adrenaline.
Jax glances over his shoulder. “Doesn’t look like they’re searching outside.”
He’s right. There’s no sign of agents. In fact, there isn’t any sign of people in general. We head straight toward the arranged meeting place. As we emerge into the secluded spot, I look in every crevice and cranny, my heart and hopes sinking at its empty state.
I turn toward Jax. “What happened to Will?”
“Last I saw, he was in the hall fighting an agent.” Jax sinks to the ground, slouching up against the rock. “He stunned him a few times. The guy looked a bit dazed.” He almost sounds impressed. “A flash of something ducked into the shadows when we came out of the room. It looked like him. I’m almost certain it was.”
My stomach churns at the thought of what might have happened. Will could be chained in the dungeon, or worse. A coppery taste fills my mouth, and I wince, realizing I’ve bitten the inside of my cheek too hard. Will’s been a part of my life for almost as long as I can remember. I can’t lose him.
“Almost certain?”
“I heard the door slam, Mae. When I ran into the room, he was winning.”
I nod. Winning’s good, but something still feels off in my tummy. I shouldn’t have brought Will here. If anything has happened to him, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.
Jax picks up a lump of wood from the carpet of decomposing leaves. “He’ll find his way here.” His tone is so full of confidence that I believe him, almost. Well, at least I believe he thinks it’s the truth.
Scowling, I lower myself onto the ground beside him. “He could be dying in there.”
“Probably not. I’m sure I saw him. What happened to you, anyway? Were you high in there or what?”
“High? No. Everything went a bit hazy after I got knocked out. It took me a bit to figure out where I was.”
“Angel?” he says.
I don’t answer. No point even trying to compete with all the ammo he’s no doubt built up from that one comment.
He smirks as he pulls out his blade, shaving away little bits of wood while we wait. My watch reads 6:25 p.m. The silence grows deafening as it lingers, and I’m sure he’s waiting for me to defend myself so he can make a quip. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
“Doesn’t that dull your blade?”
“Nah, it’s magic.” He winks.
“Don’t patronize me.” I cup my hand over my throbbing thigh.
His mouth turns up in a crooked smile. “It’s made of Clarinium.”
“Clarinium?” I test out the word.
“I guess it’s tech. Clarinium is razor sharp. Never dulls, and cuts any substance.” He places the edge of the blade on a large rock near his feet and puts the slightest pressure on it with his palm. The blade slices the stone, which falls to the ground in two halves.
“Impressive.”
“I used it to cut a hole in a window once. Sliced through the glass just like this rock.”
“Why would you cut a hole in a window?”
“To sneak in.”
“Cool. Took that off an agent, huh?” I ignore his tormenting bait about sneaking into someone’s room.
His mouth twitches, and he resumes his work with the blade.
A cold breeze rustles the tops of the shrubs, making goose bumps rise all over me. I wrap my arms around myself to shelter my body, but they don’t go away. Sneaking in through windows, huh? A slimy unease threads its way through me. Was it Lilly’s window, or some other girl? Am I jealous? Oh my God, Mae. It could have been any window, not necessarily a girl’s. Besides, they’re the only ones at the farm. Sure, there are other people, but most of them are older or just young kids. “Are you and Lilly the only ones our age?”
“Yeah, we’re it.” He smirks at me.
“That’s not what I mean.” I huff an exaggerated sigh. Where’d this stupid attitude come from? “I haven’t seen anyone else our age at the farm. Doesn’t it get… lonely?” My bandage has a loose thread. Pinching it between my fingers, I give it a sharp tug.
“No. We’re the only ones living at the farm permanently, but others come and go, and we visit the other bases.”
“Oh.” So there are other young people, probably other girls, other guys. I’d never thought of it that way, but Lilly did mention Garrett and Evan.
“There are plenty of people in the fight against Collective tyranny.” He rests his head back on the cold rock.
So, whose window was it? A girl at another base, a girlfriend? My mouth opens, the words resting on the tip of my tongue, but I snap it closed. No. I’m not taking his bait.
Moments ago it seemed silent, but now cars honk, and people stroll by even though it’s dark. The sounds of the city assault the early evening. Jax and I fall into silence again. The darkness of night has closed in, bringing with it the acrid fumes of vehicles and the tang of vapor rising from subway vents. It mixes with a strange combination of food odors all melded together to create the smell of the city. It’s so different from the crisp, clean air of the country. I take a deep breath. This isn’t the suburbs, but it still feels like home. Time stretches with minutes passing and Will not appearing. I must have checked my watch at least fifty times. Eight o’clock comes and goes, and I’m worried.
“I wonder what happened with Lilly.” I peer through tiny gaps in the shrub branches, but there’s no sign of either her or Will.
“She ported out. It didn’t look like there’d been a struggle. As soon as she heard the agents searching, she would have ported Al and Bertie home.”
“I hope you’re right.”
My heart sinks at the thought of poor Al back in the hands of The Collective. It wouldn’t take much more to break him.
As the evening wears on, the air grows colder, wracking my arms, legs, and body with trembling shivers. The hard rock seeping coldness through my thin shirt doesn’t help. My leg throbs in time with my pulse, each beat like a knife thrust into it again. If it could speak it would say, ‘Will. Will. Will.’ People-shaped shadows walk through the grey light of the park. Will? No, they’re walking in a group. Agents? There’s no sense of urgency, and they don’t even scan the area. Not agents.
We wait. No one’s looking for us, but I start to wonder how we’ll get home. Maybe we’ll have to search for the bike.
Jax continues to shave bits off his carving. When his hands finally move, the face of a woman looks out of the wood. Long, wavy hair falls around her cheeks and down to her shoulders. Large, deep-set eyes are in a face with strong, sharp features. She looks a lot like him. Her eyes are friendly, her expression kind. She looks like someone my mom would have been friends with.
“She’s beautiful,” I say.
He shoves it into his pocket. “Thanks.”
“Is she your mother?” I shuffle around to readjust my weight, letting out a whimper. Each movement of my stiff leg shoots pain up my whole body, making me shiver
even more.
He lets out a long sigh. “They’re not coming, and you’re freezing. We need to go.” Jax wipes his blade clean on his dark studded pants. “There’s no point waiting for Lilly,” he says, and I hope he’s right.
“What about Will? We can’t leave without him.”
“Mae, I promise you he will be okay. He would have gotten out.” He pauses. “If he doesn’t turn up, I’ll come back for him.”
“But—”
“I promise.” He looks me right in the eye. “He has the keys to the bike. He’ll be able to follow the breadcrumbs.”
Breadcrumbs… he’s right. Even though I want to, we can’t stay here all night. The pain in my leg is growing worse, and the coldness has already seeped into my bones. I can leave something here, like a sign, to let Will know where to find us. “Okay, where will we go, then?” I say. “We can’t go back to the farmhouse. There’s no way Beau will let us leave again.”
He clicks his blade down and shoves it into an inside jacket pocket. “Speak for yourself. I’m extremely resourceful.” He gives a wicked grin which holds a glint of mischief.
“Can you be serious for just five minutes?” I nearly yell.
He raises a brow. “Probably not.”
My jaw tightens. We have to go someplace where we’ll be safe from The Collective, where we can rest and figure out what to do next. Most importantly, somewhere Will can find us. It comes to me. “Can I borrow your knife?”
“Knife?” He raises an eyebrow, but passes over the weapon.
I snatch it away and bring its tip to the rock, carving: Crazy ASHT. AG. I scrawl an arrow in the dirt pointing toward my message and in huge letters beside it write: WA.
Jax’s mouth twitches, his eyes twinkle. He drags his finger through the dirt and writes Dudley after Will’s initials. “Crazy Asshat? If a friend called me that….” He opens his eyes extra wide.
“Albert’s Second Hand Treasures.”