Overtaken

by Mark H. Kruger

  In that same instant, a blindingly bright halogen light roared to life on the other side of the giant glass panels. Topher and I turned away, but the light moved with us, keeping us from getting a good look at where it was coming from. I didn’t need my sight to recognize the sound—the familiar grit and holler of a hovering helicopter. The glass barely dulled the noise, and Topher had to scream to be heard.

  “Holy shit!” Topher exclaimed, looking terrified. “Are they from Bar Tech?”

  “Unless you arranged transportation for us,” I barked back, “I’d say yeah!”

  As if to confirm our suspicions, a disembodied voice crackled over the bird’s loudspeaker: “The situation has been contained. Please exit the building. Again, the situation has been contained.”

  They were either lying or had no idea what was going on. Either way, I wasn’t about to turn myself over. Topher and I kept running. About halfway down the Bridge, the fire doors I’d closed behind us began to slam back and forth in their frames. Someone on the other side was giving them a beating. Instead of holding firm, one exploded from its hinges and flipped past us, scarring the floor in a flurry of sparks. I turned to see a Bar Tech Security guard the size of a mutant linebacker—like he’d injected himself with all the steroids in the state—hulking in the empty frame with a smoking bazooka. He charged with a guttural howl, Dana and the rest of her militia right behind him. A deranged-looking group of students flung the remaining fire door in our direction and missed by inches. Instead of taking my head, it smashed through one of the glass panels and careened into the parking lot below.

  The helicopter repositioned itself, arcing high over the Bridge and coming level with us on the other side. As its floodlight blinded us for a second time, a voice cried out:

  “Nica! Look out!” That sounded like Oliver, I thought. Look out for what?

  A silver glint answered at the very edge of my peripheral vision. I turned away from the searing light to look out the opposite window. What I saw took my breath away. It was a bus. One of our shiny, high-tech, Bar Tech–supplied wonders of public transportation, except this one was suspended in the sky, twirling on the end of a wild, invisible string. And coming straight for me.

  I spotted Maya in the parking lot below, wild-eyed, arms still extended from the effort of directing the vehicular projectile my way. The battered fire door was embedded into the roof of a car a few inches to the side of her. She must have thought the door was aimed at her. And now she was reacting like any wild animal would—by going on the offense. Unfortunately, I was standing directly between her and vengeance.

  As the last seconds of my life ticked by, the bus grew closer and filled my entire field of vision, like the mouth of a giant coming to swallow me whole. It no longer sparkled in the light, it was consumed by shadow, a monolithic structure about to lay waste to what seemed like the entire world.

  I didn’t see what hit my chest, but the force of the contact ripped me off my feet and lifted me off the ground. I soared backward as the bus hit the glass at highway speeds, nearly rupturing my eardrums with its sound and fury. It tore through the steel like paper and pulverized anything less tensile. It stayed partially intact as it bisected the Bridge but met with the helicopter in midair when it erupted out the other side. The resulting explosion lit up the night and rained flaming chunks of debris down on what was left of the Bridge.

  I landed on my back, and the air cracked out of my lungs. In the split second before he rolled off and vanished, I saw Oliver checking my face to make sure I was conscious and alive. He was gone before I could catch my breath. Had that really just happened?

  I rolled to my stomach and took in the situation. The Bridge was no longer a complete hallway—it was a left side and a right side with a chasm at its center. Both remaining ends groaned under the newly misappropriated weight, threatening to collapse and crush us all under their free-falling weight. The half I lay in was bent maybe thirty degrees down, enough that I could feel the slope, but not so much that there was nowhere for me to go but to tumble out the bottom to the earth below. Dana and her cohorts, now trapped on the other side of the gap from me, were in danger of meeting the same fate. In fact, for the first time in weeks, their numbers worked against them. I was just one small girl; the demolished building could support me just fine. The dozen or so kids trying to get to their feet in the crippled section opposite me? Not so much.

  “Nica!” I turned around and looked up the incline to spot Topher clinging to one of the fire doors we’d been sprinting for when the bus made its appearance. “Up here! We almost made it!” It wasn’t far, just twenty feet or so. I could make it. I knew I could.

  The chaos had me so distracted that I didn’t notice the water until I tried to stand up. Broken pipes and erupting sprinklers released rushing rivers of water down the linoleum surface, making any sort of foothold impossible. The only way to get to the top was going to be on my stomach. I stayed low and hung on, turning my head to the side to keep from gulping down the gallons of filthy water flowing into my face. With all the strength I had left, I put one hand in front of the other and pulled myself against the tide. Each time I slipped and fell back, Topher screamed down at me to keep going. More than halfway there, I heard a series of cracks beneath me, and the hallway dropped a few feet. The jolt threw me, and I tumbled back, catching the edge of the broken floor as I went over the edge.

  “Shit!” I looked backed up to Topher, but there was nothing he could do without putting himself in danger. I was dangling on my own with no way up and a long way down. Invisibility wasn’t going to make the fall any less deadly, and the torrential waterfall splashing over the edge was only hastening my demise. I could recognize bad news when I saw it. “Topher, run!”

  “Not until you’re safe!” he shouted back. The gesture was brave, but putting himself in any more danger was pointless.

  “If your power can show people the truth about Dana, you need to find Jackson. You need to find Oliver, and you need to open their eyes!” Topher looked terrified, but I knew my words were hitting home. “Go! Get outta here!”

  As if to show him things would be okay, I reached into the deepest recesses of my strength and pulled myself inch by agonizing inch up over the edge and flat onto the floor. He didn’t move—he just looked past me, over my head. What the hell are you waiting for? I rolled onto my back to follow his gaze and saw Dana running toward the gap, angry crowd at her back. She practically roared as she hit the gap and leaped into the air, leading her minions into battle. They each followed suit, jettisoning over the chasm with a powerful shove from the petite girl I saw being tested up on the mountain that night.

  “GO!” I screamed to Topher in the second before they all landed on our side of the Bridge. He threw the door wide and disappeared to the other side. I could only hope I was a desirable-enough target that no one would even notice he’d vanished. Dana hit first, and the impact drew a bone-jarring rattle from the structure. As the rest of the mutants landed, I closed my eyes and waited for the whole thing to give way. Each one seemed to crash into the floor harder than the last, and as I looked into their dark eyes, I knew they weren’t planning on showing any mercy.

  Jackson fell last, slowing his descent on a large blue ball of lightning. I kept thinking this must be a mistake . . . a bad dream. He strode over to Dana’s side, and they each grabbed one of my arms, yanking me to my feet without a word. This wasn’t a nightmare. This was my life. Were they going to toss me off the edge?

  “It didn’t have to be this way,” announced Dana, sounding victorious. “What are you even fighting for?”

  “Bar Tech will never own me,” I declared, defiant. Then I shut my eyes and prepared for the worst when I heard Topher yell—from behind me. Everyone turned to see him standing on the side of the Bridge that Dana’s A-Team had just fled. He was projecting himself to distract them.

  “Hey, assholes!” Tophe
r taunted, waving his arms with abandon. “You only got one of us!”

  With the precision of a general, Dana gestured and half of the students swarmed back to where they came from. Of course, Topher would be long gone by the time they got there. I closed my eyes to take advantage of the moment, planning to turn myself invisible and punch my way out if I had to—but when I opened my eyes again, I was still solid. I tried again. Nothing. What the hell? Was this because of the astral projection? Had we gone too far? Had I lost my own power? Dana turned back to me just in time to catch the surprise on my face.

  “Oh, relax. There are some people who are going to be very happy to see you.” Her fist landed in my face and the lights went out.

  There were dozens of TV monitors. It looked like the inside of NASA’s launch station or a live television booth or an evil genius’s lair. Bar Tech Security really was ubiquitous. They were everywhere. Every monitor was a different camera, a different angle on our quaint mountain town. And there were so many. Every street corner and business and traffic light framed in closed-circuit black and white. Except tonight’s views were not Barrington’s bread and butter, the deceitful facade of gleaming modern amenities and fake folksy charm. Instead, Barrington was in ruins.

  The high school had been just the beginning. Maya was a natural disaster, tearing Barrington apart street by street. She had set her sights on Dana, but a true storm had no goals, no enemies. She had one mode: annihilate. As soon as Maya had returned to town and shown me how her powers had developed, I had fantasized about her wreaking havoc on Bar Tech, destroying the secret facility on Whiteface, taking Cochran down. But this was not what I’d hoped for.

  I couldn’t root for her, destroying homes and hurting people without a hint of restraint or remorse. Maybe even the idea that she’d ever been in control was just as foolish and shortsighted as the town’s blind eye to Bar Tech’s omnipotence. An hour ago, she had been a seventeen-year-old with unprecedented power. But now? Maya wasn’t a person anymore. She was a force.

  Still, I couldn’t help but wish for just an ounce of Maya’s strength. Contained in a glass office, my view of operation headquarters was so unobstructed I could almost hear its mocking laughter. Four walls, even just of high-quality glass, were enough to contain her. Of course, I could turn invisible, but that wouldn’t do me any good. I reminded myself, though, that even my superficial power was in question. I hadn’t been able to use it when we were trying to escape the school, when I really needed it. And it didn’t seem to be improving, no matter how much I tried. I had two options. Watch the televisions or will my power back to functionality. They felt equally fruitless.

  The waiting didn’t seem so bad when I was suddenly faced with the alternative: interrogation. I watched as Richard Cochran and Mr. Bluni approached. They may have shown their differences when I’d watched them fight at the lab, but they were now unified in their position against me. I tried to imagine how this would go, but all I could picture was the two of them jockeying for bad cop. Bluni sat first.

  “Nica,” he started, with a heavy sigh that I guessed was trying to communicate his “aw, shucks” disappointment in me. “I gave you the opportunity of a lifetime. To become part of something historic that will transform humanity for the better. This could’ve been so much easier if you had just decided to cooperate. Instead, you decided to hold in all that jealousy and angst and insecurity. It didn’t matter how hard Dana tried to befriend you. You were just stubborn. And look at where it’s gotten us. I hate to say it, but . . .” He tossed a long look to the monitors over his shoulder. “This is all your fault.”

  I laughed. I could normally talk myself into a whole lot of guilt; I could find a way to make my latest problem entirely my fault, but if this Psych 101 tactic was how Bluni planned to break me, he was shit out of luck.

  “Right, of course,” I snapped back. “Because I irradiated pregnant women to see what would happen to their kids.” I didn’t care that I was locked up in the center of enemy territory. If all I had left was my dignity, I wasn’t going to let them put this on me.

  “Lashing out at those trying to help is a perfectly normal response. We had just hoped you were better than that. That you’d see the big picture.” Bluni continued on his high horse. “That’s why we’re here now, Nica. To offer you one last shot to work for scientific advancement. Medical progress. To join your friends and pave the way for the future.”

  God, where was he getting this? It was like Bluni had found a direct line to Newspeak.

  “I’m actually quite certain that helping you and my friends and community are mutually exclusive,” I declared. I could at least take some triumph in the cracks of Bluni’s cheery facade.

  Cochran pushed ahead, cutting through the niceties. “We need to control this. Maya is going to keep hurting people, including herself, until we can stop her. She’s your friend, right? All I’m asking for is your help.”

  Richard Cochran’s game was certainly better than Bluni’s. I’d give him that, but it didn’t mean I was an idiot. There was nothing I could do to help them stop Maya, at least not inside this glass cage. I wasn’t sure what they were really digging for—maybe just to see exactly what I knew, or perhaps what we had planned, or maybe they even knew they had a whistleblower on their side, the yet-to-be-revealed mystery texter. I crossed my fingers he was still out there. I knew I had to toe the line.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t help you,” I replied. “You were right. I’m just a kid.” Maybe they’d try to force it out of me, but I had plenty of fight left. Until I was jacked up on Sodium Pentothal, my lips were sealed.

  “Fine,” Cochran said, a flash of anger showing. The tone of an impatient parent had slipped into his voice. “We can do it without you. It’s all over now, anyway. Our patents are on the fast track for approval.”

  The man Oliver and Chase called father turned on his heel and marched away without a second’s hesitation. Bluni lingered behind. I couldn’t tell if I’d angered him more or if Cochran had. I was still unsure as to why the two were at odds.

  “You think you’re doing the right thing, but you’re not protecting anyone,” asserted Bluni. “Not even yourself. There is no Barrington without Bar Tech. More than half the town works for the company.”

  I ignored Bluni’s threat and just stared off over his shoulder. It wasn’t quite a showdown, but I considered myself the winner when he finally slunk off.

  Alone again, I had all the time in the world to ponder the meaning of their visit. It was possible that they just wanted to know what I knew, but that didn’t seem to warrant the presence of Bar Tech’s two heaviest hitters. The bigger question was what they were dancing around with all of the vague “end is nigh” omens. Cochran had said he was shutting it down for good. But shutting what down?

  I remembered what Oliver had told me about Cochran, about how he’d been forced to financially invest in developing Barrington’s superpowered offspring as the alternative was a much more sinister ending. I’d written it off as bullshit, easy Bar Tech propaganda that was being delivered by demented daddy dearest and smoothed over by Dana’s powers. Had I been wrong to discount it?

  Obviously, it had been told with as much positive spin for Cochran as possible, making him look like a sympathetic leader stuck between a rock and a hard place. But removed from that context, it did seem totally possible that Cochran hadn’t been interested in the program from the beginning. It was certainly high risk and was even now, more than fifteen years later, waiting on rewards. Chase had said that his father was a businessman first, eliminating the original atmospheric research that had filled Whiteface’s now-refurbished facilities. I hadn’t even considered how much those renovations must’ve cost. Not to mention the millions or even billions Bar Tech invested in scientific research. I knew there was more to it.

  That would have to wait because I heard more approaching footsteps. It seemed unlikely that C
ochran or Bluni would be back for more. I braced myself. It could be Dana. If I couldn’t escape her, would her powers be able to wear me down? It was the first time I’d considered a truly dark ending to my current situation. At least I knew I wouldn’t surrender to Dana without a hell of a fight.

  When he appeared around the corner, I gasped. I was surprised, for sure, but I didn’t know whether to be elated or terrified. It was Chase. “Nica!” It was a hushed call as soon as we made eye contact. He tossed a weary look over his shoulder as he hustled up to me. “Are you okay?” He pressed a palm flat against the glass, and I immediately felt like I was in my own Lifetime movie.

  I hadn’t responded yet, but he kept talking. I was trying to get a read on him. I hated that I was even thinking it, but Chase as my white knight was too good to be true. We had gotten separated at the very beginning of Maya’s stage-five meltdown. It was enough time to go running to his father and for Cochran to break the news to him gently. Sorry, son, but your girlfriend is playing for the other team. Time to man up and close ranks. Maybe it was a little militaristic for the J.Crew Cochran men, but I got the idea. Family first.

  “Can you hear me in there?” Chase tapped his fist against the glass a few times, recapturing my attention.

  “Yes.” I nodded. “Sorry. Being held captive by your dad is a little overwhelming.” I didn’t like hitting Chase with a litmus test, but I didn’t know what else to do. It wasn’t even personal. Oliver and Jackson had been taken from me as well. I just needed to ascertain Chase’s loyalties as quickly as I could.

  I still felt like a jerk. Chase looked like I’d slapped him. “I don’t know what to say to that. He’s my dad; I can’t change that. But I’m here. I can get you out.”

  “How?” I asked, immediately suspicious, but Chase was already digging the necessary tool out of his pocket. A white rectangle the size of a credit card emblazoned with a Bar Tech holographic image.