Forget Me Not

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Forget Me Not Page 24

by Stacey Nash


  Dual beams of bright light shine down the road, illuminating Lilly and me. Crap. My heart pounds with the need to keep this mission low key until we’re ready to be seen. I grab her arm and pull her into the trees. The branches scrape across me, so I duck my head under my arm. The zesty smell of pine needles and sweet sap are strong. The trees are thick, three abreast. The dense branches shoot from low down their wide trunks, hiding us and the bikes from the beams of light. We push through the leaves and branches and emerge out the other side.

  The dim light of the half-moon shines on the wall before us, illuminating stones concreted together like rocky road chocolate. Its height makes me feel tiny. When I crane my neck back, the top spans at least twice as high as Will. My chest heaves and tightens. Getting over that sure won’t be easy.

  Lilly swings the small backpack down off her shoulder and delves into it, pulling out a wadded ball of tan silk netting. She tosses it to me and reaches into the bag again and throws one to each of the boys before extracting a protect-it for herself. I pull the body suit on and watch it blend with my clothes, chameleonlike. Still so cool.

  “There’s a small gap up this way.” Jax’s voice echoes through the telcom.

  The rest of us move forward, but Lilly stands still like her feet are glued to the spot.

  “Come on, Lil,” I say.

  She tilts her head to the side and frowns.

  I fist my hand on my hip. “What’s wrong?” I say to her thoughts alone.

  “Where the heck did he get this information?”

  I shake my head. “No idea. Garrett, maybe.” I don’t really care; we’re saving Dad, and we need to keep moving.

  She steps forward, but her expression stays pensive, like she’s far away. We follow the boys along a small path between the stone fence and the trees.

  Jax comes to a halt. “Here it is.”

  “I can’t see a gap,” Will says. Nothing makes this section of the wall different from the rest.

  “It’s just….” Jax pushes against a large grey stone in the wall. “Here.” It grates like a chair dragged over concrete, the stone giving way as he pushes it through and out the other side. He drops to his stomach and crawls through the small hole, arm over arm, disappearing from sight.

  Will gestures for me to follow. “After you.”

  I lower myself onto my stomach. The ground is cold and hard beneath me; dirt tickles my nose, and it twitches. I drag myself forward on my arms toward the wall, and just before I go in, I stop. Something in my gut feels off, just like at the Council building. It kind of feels like it’s centered around Will, though. Like something bad will happen to him, maybe like I’m going to lose him. I peek over my shoulder, and his gaze is set on the mace he readjusts from the front of his belt to the back. He frowns, then looks up and smiles, waving me on. Swallowing the bad taste, I edge closer to the wall, take a deep breath, and push forward. My head plunges into a Jell-O-like barrier.

  Panic.

  My mouth screams open, but no noise comes out. The length of my throat burns as the air rushes out like a steaming bellows. Inhaling, I suck in nothing. There’s no air in this void. I strain my neck, but my head won’t move. I look from side to side, frantic.

  I want out.

  I need out.

  “Get me out.”

  I’m stuck with no air, unable to move forward or backward.

  “Will!”

  Black dots dance around the edge of my vision, threatening to engulf it.

  “What is it?” Jax sounds panicked.

  “Help.”

  Firm pressure snatches my ankles, and I’m reefed backward. My fingers scratch at the ground, and dirt jams into my nails with the fierce pressure. A slight upward jar sets me free, like a power cord yanked from the socket. I slam back down, my face hitting the ground with force. A lungful of dusty air stings my chest. My heart thumps so loud and fast it’s like a stampede.

  “What the frig was that? She could have suffocated.” Will’s voice slams through my mind.

  “Pipe down, Dudley. I didn’t know it was there,” Jax snaps. There’s a slight hint of something unfamiliar in his voice, eating up the usual sarcasm.

  “Check properly next time. That’s twice now,” Will warns.

  I push myself up onto my knees. The wall sways in front of me. I almost topple onto my stomach but my shoulders are clutched from behind, stopping everything moving. My head spins, light and airy.

  “Mae, are you all right?” Jax says.

  “Take it slowly,” Will says.

  “I’ll be back.” Jax’s disembodied voice pushes through the haze in my mind.

  Lilly passes me a bottle of water she must have pulled from the small backpack. “Have a sip.”

  I hold it to my lips, and the cold liquid floods my mouth. I close my eyes to stop my head spinning. “That was scary.”

  Lilly’s brow furrows with concern.

  A deep froglike croak makes me turn. Was that Will? His shoulders sit stiff, and his face is set in a determined frown like he’s having second thoughts about this whole venture. “It’s not too late to turn back and send in the experts,” he says aloud.

  “No.” I shake my head. He’s so infuriating. “This is my fight. It’s about my family, my life.” I shoot him a glare which says ‘stop telling me what to do.’

  He turns his head and looks off into the distance, mumbling under his breath.

  “What was that?” I demand in a hard voice.

  “There’ll be no family and no life if you wind up dead,” he says.

  Heat flushes through me despite the cool night air. “I’m not a child, Will.”

  I pull myself to my feet and stalk away. I don’t need this crap from him. Right now I need to be strong and focused. I can’t afford to freeze like I did in the Council building. Not in the middle of Collective territory. No matter what happens, I have to ignore it until we’re all home safe. There’s too much at stake, and if I have to turn myself in, I can’t have him standing in the way.

  I slump to the ground, the line of trees on my right, the stone wall to my left, alone in the darkness. A stick finds its way into my hand and I drag it through dirt, drawing circular patterns. I love Will. He’s the closest friend I’ve ever had. He’s been there right beside me through everything. He’s loyal and fun and loving, but he’s driving me insane with this overprotective crap. It’s like he knows I’m prepared to make the sacrifice.

  A twig snaps, leaves rustle, branches swish, and soft sounds tell me someone approaches. I sit up taller, straighter, my back to the advancing sound. “I don’t want to hear it, Will,” I whisper aloud, my eyes stinging with unshed tears.

  “It’s me,” Lilly says.

  My shoulders slump, and I drop my head into my hands.

  She crosses her legs at the ankles and sits down beside me. “He was scared.”

  “I don’t care. He makes me so cranky.”

  Her fingers trace over the pattern I made in the dirt. “What’s the plan?”

  I know she’s trying to distract me, and it’s good. I don’t want to talk about Will. “We’re heading to Manvyke’s house. Jax is certain it’s where they’ve taken my dad. If we can break into his home office, it’s our best chance of finding some hard evidence to blackmail him. Or plant this.” I hold out a voice recorder Will found amongst the clutter in Al’s shop.

  She chews on her nail and stares into the distance, eyes glazed like she’s not really listening.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah, just nerves.” She’s brushing me off. There’s something she’s not telling me.

  “You all abandoning me in enemy territory?” Jax’s mental voice returns.

  “We’re coming.”

  Climbing to my feet, I extend my hand, Lilly grasps it, and I pull her up. The telcom must have a long range because I’ve walked further than I thought. It takes us a few minutes to reach where Jax is back on our side of the wall, leaning against the stone with
his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. Moonlight reflects off his eyes. They’re trained on me, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

  Will stands a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest, glowering at Jax.

  “Nice stroll?” Jax says.

  Lilly shoots him a look warning not to ask.

  “I found the switch and disabled this section of the barrier,” he says. “Let’s go.” He drops to the ground and crawls through the hole. “Good news. Looks like the entire community is in bed.”

  I fall to my knees but it’s too late; Will is already halfway through the hole before me with just his legs sticking out. Lilly jumps in front of me to follow Will. “Good, it worked,” she says.

  I look over my shoulder, scanning the darkness before I drop onto my stomach and crawl toward the hole. My head nears the opening, and my breaths come sharp and quick. My hand trembles as I reach it out in front of me to test the spot, scared it’s going to envelope me again.

  Someone grabs my hand through the hole, and I let out a sharp gasp, then inhale deeply. I didn’t realize I’d held my breath. I can do this. It didn’t trap Will or Lilly. It won’t get me. Using my other arm to drag myself along, I shimmy through the hole and emerge out the other side, feeling ill to my stomach. Jax looks down at me with a soft smile. He pulls me to my feet, by our joined hands. “Sorry about before. Are you okay?”

  I nod, slide my hand out of his, and brush the dirt off my tummy.

  After peering into the grey darkness, it’s obvious we’re on the edge of a large clearing. Long vines droop off a hulking tree like a branchy curtain all around us. The clearing is round like a sport field, and buildings stand tall on the other side. Short, perfectly manicured grass sponges beneath my feet. A beam of light flashes toward us, and Jax dives to the ground. “Get down.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  WE ALL SINK TO our bellies and shuffle into the tree’s dark shadow.

  The bright shaft of light moves toward us, and I flatten myself against the spongy grass. Lilly stands plastered to the tree trunk. The beam of light closes in on the tree and shines through the low-hanging branches like sunlight filtered through the canopy of The Ring. It continues its sweep across the oval uninterrupted. I let out a breath.

  We’re safe.

  For now.

  I jump to my feet, gaze pinned to the source of light now shining in the other direction. It’s a spotlight mounted on top of the three-story building over on the far side of the oval.

  Jax sprints across, and I bolt out after him, not looking back to see who follows. I reach the edge of the building where he lingers in the shadows, my newly healed leg stinging with the exertion of my sprint. Windows cover the wall, both close to the ground and higher above like it has several floors. Curiosity leads me straight to the nearest one. Polished wooden desks and soft, green padded chairs stand in neat rows. “Looks like a posh school.”

  “Yeah. Nicer than ours.” Will stands beside Jax, his face flushed and hand on his chest as if holding in a heart beating too fast.

  Lilly darts into the shadows and stops right by me, her breaths so loud and fast it’s a good thing the building is empty. Well, at least I think it is with all the lights out and the school feel. Schools are always empty at night. We creep around the side past intricately carved stone benches under the overhanging branches of a large tree. Every tiny sound rattles my nerves, even the dead leaves crunching under our feet.

  “This is amazing.” Lilly’s wide eyes take in the tall columns holding up the walls as if they alone support its framework. “It’s just like the Council building in the city.”

  Jax and Will keep moving and become dark smudges against the shadows ahead.

  “Come on, Lilly, we need to keep up.”

  A quick jog and we catch them, but when I slow to a walk, Jax gets ahead again. His long, fast strides are no match for my short legs. I know he’s on a mission to get us in and out as quickly as possible, but he could at least set a pace we could all match. We skulk down the side of a narrow road, passing all types of buildings. Grocery store, tennis courts, gym, dozens upon dozens of large, elaborate houses. They’re all similar in style, with large columns flanking their front doors, and manicured yards. Shrubs cut into hedges, statues, and fountains decorate the lawns.

  Most of the houses are dark, but it doesn’t stop my insides quivering. Clenching my sweaty hands into fists, I peer into the darkness in search of any sign of movement. There’s none. The only sound is our footsteps on the paved road. I swipe my sweaty palms down the side of my jeans to dry them.

  The narrow road seems to keep curving around to the left; the entire community set in ever-decreasing symmetrical circles. As we move closer to the center the houses grow larger and more like mansions.

  There.

  Movement, dark and fast, shoots across a lawn. My feet and head and heart jump into the air. Spinning, I peer into the night while everyone continues walking unalarmed and unaware. They must not have seen it, but if someone’s watching us, we need to deal with it right now. The shape slinks low to the ground across the next lawn. I edge a little closer, and it moves toward me too. Sweat prickles my neck, my breath freezes, and my heart hammers my ribs. The shape draws ever nearer and takes the form of a black cat. My held breath wheezes out, and I rush to catch up.

  We stop in front of a huge white mansion, moonlight glinting off its every surface. Twin staircases lead up onto a balcony where large potted trees flank the front door. Tall, fluted columns support the roof, and massive windows broken into small squares span the front. The house is enveloped by darkness, and I’m enveloped by fear. Now we’re actually here, my stomach roils and churns and spins.

  We can do this.

  I won’t fail.

  We’ll get Dad out.

  We stand in front of the house, all looking and waiting. I glance to Will on my right.

  He gives a small smile. “We can do this.”

  I nod and turn to my left. I blink when, for the first time ever, I see fear lurking in Jax’s eyes. He repositions the telcom in his ear, drops his hand, then raises it and fiddles with the tech again. “This is it.” There’s a small crack in his mental voice, barely audible, but it’s there.

  My stomach twists in a double, triple, quadrupled knot. Jax is nervous—not something to take lightly. Nothing ever ruffles him. I push the worry away. Now is not the time to overthink it. We’re here, and there’s no turning back. Whether it’s nerves or fear or something else, it doesn’t matter. I slide my hand into his and give a small squeeze.

  A noise comes from my other side. I glance at Will, but he’s looking straight ahead. Jax’s sweat-slicked hand pumps mine, bringing my focus back to the house. The house he’s staring down like it’s Beau last time we got called to his office.

  “Don’t provoke Will, Mae. We need to work together,” Lilly says in my mind.

  “What?” I look to her.

  She shakes her head. “Are we going or what?”

  Jax points to a small wooden door just to the side of the staircase. It curls up and around toward the main entrance. “Let’s try that.”

  “Do you think the house might be alarmed?” Will asks.

  “No. The whole community is protected by a wall and a barrier. I don’t think they need to worry about people breaking and entering.” Jax drops my hand and follows the path leading to a glossy white door. He turns the brass knob, the door swings in, and he disappears into the darkness.

  I step forward, but a firm grip on my shoulder prevents me moving. “I’m first.” Will pushes in front of me and stalks inside.

  A few long moments later, he says, “It’s safe.”

  Shaking my head and trying to decide if I’m flattered or frustrated, I walk into the pitch-black room. It’s like waking into the middle of the night. I extend my hands out in front of me to feel the way, and my palms connect with warm, soft fabric. Will.

  Silence greets us. My heart beats hard
and fast, just like a jack hammer.

  A bang and a clatter and a “Shoot.” Lilly must have run into something.

  I hold my breath, willing my heart to silence. Nothing happens. No one must have heard. Lucky, this time.

  “Up this way,” Jax says, but his voice echoes through my mind, so I’ve no idea which direction he means. Especially when I glance around and see nothing but blackness like my eyes are closed.

  “Up,” Jax says.

  I tilt my head. Up? Soft grey light outlines a silhouette in an open doorway high above me. Reaching out to where I felt Will, my hand comes into contact with him, and he closes his around it. “Where’s Lilly?” I ask.

  “I’ve got her,” Will says.

  I use my other hand to feel in front of me while I keep my eyes trained on the silhouette that’s Jax. My toes slam into a step, and sharp pain pulsates through my foot. This is up. Climbing the steps, I can feel Will close behind me. When we reach the top, the pitch blackness fades to a dark grey just light enough to make out the shape of the stairs. I let go of Will and stop on the second highest stair.

  Jax stands on the stair above me and, peering past him, I can see moonlight streaming into a foyer through the huge windows, casting dark shadows on the floor. Swiping sweat-slicked hands on my legs, I close my eyes and draw in a long, calming breath. A breath full of a flowery scent. Oh no. My nose twitches and tickles on the inside. Pinching it between my fingers helps suppress the noise that would surely give us away. Darn allergies.

  Jax nods toward the foyer. At least, I think it’s the foyer and not the staircases curving upward from either side. A quick look, and there’s nothing else he could mean. The high ceiling and the vast area is dwarfing.

  We’ve done it. We’re inside Councilor Manvyke’s house, the man responsible for my need to hide, for taking Dad, for everything. I’m finally going to make this all right even if—

 

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