by Barb Han
In my fog, I heard them talk about my family, too. If my mother and brother are alive, I have to find them.
I’ll do whatever she wants.
I don’t roll over again until the lights are out and I’m certain that everyone’s gone away. I’m all over the place. Bits of overheard conversations float through my mind. I have to get out, to run, to find my family.
They have to be out there somewhere. They must know something.
Snyder has made it clear that she wants me alive. She also wants me compliant. No, needs me compliant.
I rack my brain and still can’t come up with a good reason why I’m so important to her. When it comes right down to it, I’m just a kid…kid. Hold on. Didn’t I hear Eleanor Chaffee talk about me? I push my brain to think but with all the medicine I’ve been given. It doesn’t cooperate.
Cooperate.
What is it about me that they need?
Images of Jax flood my consciousness. I don’t want to believe that something has happened to him, even though my heart says it has. The way we left our relationship on bad terms guts me. A flash of nausea threatens to empty my stomach. I fist my hands like that will help me regain control of my body. It’s useless. I give in to the urge and lean over my bed to vomit.
Nothing happens but a few dry heaves.
Snyder has something to lose if this program isn’t a success. Eleanor and Spencer Chaffee do, too. For Snyder, it’s easier to unpack. She’s been touting this program. Her reputation is on the line, and she’s been making a move for Councilman Destin’s job by gaining support for a few years.
If this program fails, she goes down with it. On the surface, that’s all I can figure out. Maybe there’s more. I’m not sure. I will have to think on that when the fog clears out of my brain. The Chaffees are easier. They have a lot invested in the program, in me. They’re in some kind of financial trouble. I’m their ticket out. They’ve also invested in Snyder so if she fails, they lose.
Part of me is grateful they’ve given me my mind back. At least now I can think. I’m still foggy from the medication, though, and I remind myself to step carefully when they’re around, so they don’t increase my dose. The thought that they can take it all away—my life, my thoughts…
I have to find a way out. And, no matter what else it costs me, I have to get Caius out of here, too.
Can I use McAvoy’s codes? I wish I’d turned over and paid attention to how people leave the facility. There has to be a process. Although, they do seem sure that we won’t make it out of these cells. I’m certain there are security protocols. I also remember how the lights turned on as we made our way down the hall. Sensors? There might be security cameras, too. I think about the bracelet Eleanor Chaffee gave me. She used it to track me, which tells me that even when I think they’re not looking, they are.
And then Jax comes to mind and more tears come. I didn’t think that I had any left…
I remember hearing my sponsors talking with Snyder about me. Did they say something about my attributes selling well?
Chapter Eighteen
The night drags on and I toss and turn. I wish I knew how many people were in here in the other cells. Maybe I can signal? I look around for anything that I can use. I start to move but then remember the sensors. Do they have them in the cells?
There’s only one way to find out. So, I push the covers off and sit up. My head spins and I’m nauseous. I put my bare feet on the cold tile. There’s another problem that I don’t want to consider. Even if I make it out of here, what am I supposed to do about shoes? The woods will chew up my feet if I try to run, and the bugs will surely have a field day on my flesh.
No alarms sound when I move, so I’m guessing there are no sensors inside my cell. Of course, I’m being recorded and possibly watched right now. There’s not much in here that I can use, and my IV is acting as a tether. Can I scoot over to the glass door without being detected?
My IV cord isn’t long enough. Taking it out isn’t an option.
And then lights turn on from the hallway.
I play dead and squint.
There’s a figure in the middle of the room—smallish, so I’m guessing female. She’s looking around for something…or, wait, someone. She shifts out of view for a few seconds that feel like they stretch on for minutes. And then her face is pressed to the glass at my cell, and I know exactly who she is…Mrs. Randol.
What on earth is my history teacher doing here?
My doors open with a swish, and the next thing I’m aware of is her standing by my side. She checks my forehead, and she looks concerned and more than a little scared.
“Victoria, can you hear me?”
I open my eyes, and it startles her.
“We have to go.” She glances around and there’s a wild, frantic look to her.
I have no idea why she’s helping me, but she looks sincere and I’m not exactly in a position to argue.
“My IV,” I say. “If this comes out the alarm will sound.”
“Right.” She pulls something that looks a lot like a ball of clay out of her pocket. She takes my arm, working quickly and quietly, and pulls the IV out, wrapping the clay-like substance around it. “It responds to body temperature.”
She pulls a bandage out of her pocket next and positions it on my arm. “That should stem the bleeding and keep you from infection. Put these on your feet.”
I stare for a second at the shoes that look similar to ballet shoes, but my adrenaline starts pumping, and I snatch them from her and place them on my feet.
“Can you walk on your own?” She glances around again, reminding me that we don’t have much time before the enforcers show.
I nod.
“Let’s go,” she says, urging me off the bed.
“Caius is here. I can’t leave him.”
“There’s no time,” she counters.
I bite my bottom lip, hard. “I can’t leave without him.”
She stares at me in disbelief for a second. That’s all the time she has to make up her mind, and she’s keenly aware of the fact.
“Alarms are going to go off in”—she checks the device on her wrist—“less than three minutes if we don’t get out of here.”
Her piece of technology looks like something Jax would make. I suppress a sob and take in a deep breath. “Then we better hurry.”
She doesn’t respond because she spins around. “Where is he?”
“I’m not sure.”
That statement doesn’t go over well, but what I’m about to tell her next is going to shock her. We move, checking cells as fast as we can. Her hand runs along the glass as we move, and I can’t help but think about the prints she’s leaving behind. Then again, with security cameras all around her identity isn’t exactly a secret.
“They might have done something to him,” I say, checking each cell. My pulse rises with every forward step. My anxiety is rocketing.
“How so?” Mrs. Randol stops in front of one and punches in a code.
“He wasn’t his usual self. He was like a robot when they brought him to me.”
“Okay. We’ll deal with it. One step at a time. Okay?”
“Got it.” And then I see him. Mrs. Randol is already at work on the lock.
His doors swish open and he sits up, shakes his head.
“Caius Fitch walk this way,” Mrs. Randol orders.
Surprisingly, he does.
Our eyes lock, and immediately we link our hands, too.
We leave the same way, but it’s only moments before the alarm sounds. There’s so much noise and bright light.
I glance toward the woods, which is where I expect to go. Mrs. Randol urges us in the opposite direction, toward the studio.
Caius is groggy but much more like himself. They must’ve sedated him.
“I don’
t have enough supplies for all three of us.” She glances toward his feet as we bolt across the lawn.
I hear the whir of drones heading toward us.
“Get down,” she demands and so we hunker down in a huddle. The drones fly around us but don’t see us.
“How’d you do that?”
“I’ll explain later,” she says. And then she jumps to her feet and urges us to run.
Caius is slow, but we each take a side of him and pull him with us.
“I’m not sure what they gave him, so it’ll have to wear off on its own. I won’t risk a negative reaction,” she says as we make it to the front gate. She punches in another code, and the door opens. Walking off school property makes me feel alive.
Mrs. Randol has a vehicle waiting on the other side, and we immediately climb inside.
“Why are you helping us?” I’ve learned the hard way not to trust authority, and I can’t help but be suspicious.
“We can talk later. Right now, I have a drone to deal with.” She pushes the limits of the electric vehicle, zigzagging through streets until she’s satisfied that she’s lost the device tracking us.
So far, her actions prove that she wants to help, so I don’t argue. Caius squeezes my hand, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s struggling to stay awake.
At some point, I’m not exactly sure when, he gives in and sleeps.
We make it to the outskirts of town, while Mrs. Randol constantly checks the rearview mirror. Tension radiates off her body.
We’ve been on the road a long time before we finally pull onto a gravel drive. The street is hidden from the road and leads to an old, abandoned farmhouse. She parks the vehicle in between two large oaks behind the building.
My pulse is racing as I nudge my boyfriend’s shoulder. He doesn’t budge.
“He needs to sleep it off,” Mrs. Randol says. Everything has happened so fast that my mind is still racing to catch up.
“Why are you helping us?” I ask again, figuring her answer will tell me if I can trust her or not.
She looks right at me through the rearview mirror.
My body is trembling, and fear threatens to overwhelm me, but I maintain eye contact.
“I deserve answers,” I say tartly. I’m in no position to make demands.
“You’re already in enough danger. Giving you more information might make things worse for you if…” She doesn’t finish and we both know she means if they capture me again.
“I’m not going in there until I know we’re safe. So, give me one good reason you’d risk your life for us, because it makes no sense for you to be helping me.”
“Because there were two young men in the picture Jax was trying to show you in class that day. The other one is my son.” She opens the door and leaves.
Her son? With my brother?
“Hold on.” She can’t walk away after dropping a bomb like that.
Two guys, good size, exit the building and head toward the car. Great. Now, I’m outside in a vehicle in the middle of nowhere with Caius while he’s asleep. So, obviously, my life is going exactly as planned.
“Caius, please wake up.” With him alert and his old self I have a chance. Like this, I’m fair game. We both are.
As the guys come closer, I can tell that they’re around our age maybe a little older.
“You okay or do you need help, too?” one asks through the glass. He’s tall and wiry, not yet completely filled out. I guess him to be a senior. “I’m Pace.”
I open the door because why not.
“I’m fine. He’s been given something.” I hold on tighter to Caius’s hand.
“I’m Keir,” the second guy says. “We got him if you want to come on out.”
Keir is thicker than his friend and a good two inches shorter. He looks younger, but I’m betting they’re around the same age.
“Tori Aldridge.” I reluctantly let go of Caius’s hand and scramble out of the vehicle.
“We know,” they say almost in unison.
“Right.” I smile awkwardly and fist my hands at my sides, rocking on my heels. They must’ve known about Mrs. Randol’s plan.
“Don’t worry. We’re here to help.” Keir climbs in beside Caius. Keir is big enough to make the electric vehicle dip under his weight. Even at full strength, I doubt my boyfriend could take him in a fight. I hope it doesn’t come to that.
The two manage to pull Caius out of the vehicle and picking him up seems effortless to them, despite his dead weight. I have to give it to them—if they want to hurt us, they can.
I think about what Mrs. Randol said, and none of this makes sense. She’s always been so gung-ho, singing the praises of the council. It occurs to me that she might’ve been acting. If that’s the case, she was convincing. But then, maybe she’d had to be.
Inside, the farmhouse is dark. Only a low light, more like a glow, in front of Pace and Keir gives them enough visibility to take another step.
“We don’t have a lot here but there’s everything we need,” my teacher says. “Do you want hot tea?”
“No, thanks, Mrs. Randol.”
“Please, call me Annora. And you can trust me.”
I think about it for a second. My throat is dry, and my tongue still feels like I licked a glue stick. If she’d wanted to hurt me, she wouldn’t be helping me. I let out a slow breath. Trusting anyone besides my friends and Caius is hard. “How did you get into that…building,” I say, for lack of a better word, “without being detected?”
“With this.” She shows me the device on her wrist. “Jax made it for me.”
A glimmer of hope that he’s somehow still alive flits around in my chest. I look at Mrs. Ran…Annora expectantly.
She shakes her head and casts her eyes down to the floor.
“You said he made that for you?” I fight my emotion not wanting to show any signs of weakness. I’m vulnerable enough already. Inside, I’m completely hollowed out. I can’t even imagine a world without Jax in it. I hate the fact that we weren’t even on speaking terms for most of last semester. I remember how scared he looked the last time I saw him and how much I wanted to find a way to be the old us again.
Annora nods. She looks at the device and then at me with such sadness in her eyes that it takes me back.
Neither of us speaks for a long while. I wouldn’t be able to find my voice, anyway. I’m mute. I miss him so much that I can’t form words.
It’s so unfair that I’m here, alive and he’s not. I’m angry and I feel so alone without my best friend. I would give anything to have one more day with him and tell him all the things I should have but didn’t, like the fact that I can’t imagine my life without his friendship.
We’ll never go to college together like we’d planned. He won’t be there to rig any of my technology or send me secret messages that disappear after I read them.
Who’ll keep me on the edge of getting in trouble by loading stupid games on my device? Who’ll be my partner-in-crime and remind me to push the boundaries every once in a while? To live and not solely exist? Who’ll keep me entertained with his endless antics, like the time he overclocked his AllinOne? Who’ll be there to talk to when life feels like it’s crumbling around me?
I grab my stomach to keep from puking. The world is literally spinning off its axis and I’m on an out-of-control ride.
“I’m sorry. He was a good kid and he didn’t deserve what Snyder did to him.” There’s no sadness in Annora’s eyes now, only hate. It’s like mine when I think of the councilwoman as I take in a few deep breaths. “He was only trying to protect you by not telling you that he’d joined us.”
I don’t have to like secrets, but I would’ve done the same thing if the situation was reversed. I can’t blame Jax.
“Yes, I would like tea,” I finally find my voice, realizing that he’s protect
ing me even now.
Annora makes two cups. It’s beyond me how she does it in the dark. I have so many questions flooding my brain.
“Did they lie about my brother?” I can’t ask if he’s dead.
“They lie about everything, which is why people have joined together to cross the border to another country, especially our most compromised people.”
“Where?”
“Some are going to Canada, but crossing the border is becoming more and more difficult and dangerous. A few others are gaining asylum in other countries if they have family or friends who can take them in until they can gain citizenship. Texas was first to put up a wall, but word is that a few other southern countries are still friendly. No one can take a big group, though. It’s too obvious.”
“Do you know where my brother is?” I ask as she sits down across a small tray on the floor from me. We’re sitting on pillows, and Caius is sleeping behind me. The sound of his steady breathing is the only thing keeping me from having a full-on anxiety attack even with Annora as an ally. There’s no going back to my former life, to the future I thought I had.
“No.” She takes a sip and her face screws up. “Be careful. It’s hot.”
Keir and Pace have settled onto cots next to us.
“Is your son here?” The tea is dark and warm and soothes my throat.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know.”
“You’re looking for him, aren’t you?”
“I am now,” she admits.
“When was the last time you saw him?” I ask, but the answer comes to me before she responds.
“With your brother. When I saw the picture Jax had of your brother and Cyprion together I knew it was only a matter of time before Snyder found it, too,” she says. “I can’t sit back any longer. I have to find my son.”
“You punished Jax that day,” I say, but her head is already shaking.
“I had no choice. The Bilker family is connected to the school. I couldn’t risk anyone becoming suspicious of me spending time with Jax. They have eyes everywhere.”