“She told me she’d tell Dr. Harris if I kept trying to break the rules. It’s not that I don’t want to help, but…” Jemma looked back down at her sandwich, trying to find the desire to take another bite. “I don’t want to lose what might be our only shot by trying to involve somebody who doesn’t want to be involved.”
“All right,” sent Jack finally. “I trust your judgment. How do we tell Ken or Marcia? And how do we get the layout of this place so we can get out of here?”
“I think Heidi will help more,” sent Jemma. “She wouldn’t have given me as much as she has and then left us without knowing how to get out of the building. It just doesn’t make sense. We’ll have to hope she gives me that information tonight so that we have tomorrow to finish planning, and we can get out of here the next day.” A thrill went through Jemma, anticipation and fear warring for primary emotion. Were they really going to be out of this place in a couple days? She’d lost track of how long they’d been here; though it was easy enough to check the date on the morning paper, it had gotten depressing to do so. “As for telling the others, we just need a few seconds of contact for a head’s up today, then a few more tomorrow to finalize things.”
“They watch the pairs more closely than the rest of us,” sent Jack. “I think while I’m leaving, you stand, too, but walk away from me, toward that trash can. Wait until I’m in between Ken and the camera on this side, then brush against her, carefully.”
Jemma looked over at Heidi, who gave her a friendly smile, then back at Jack, surreptitiously checking the camera location while she was at it. “I think that’ll work, as long as nobody’s looking too closely.”
“We’re hoping everybody’s a little overworked and stressed for a couple days, though, aren’t we?” As if summoned, Jack’s guard came to indicate it was time for him to leave. Jemma stood and moved slowly toward the trash can, trying to look tired, but not drained enough to need assistance, using the table only lightly for support. As she neared Ken, she accidentally-on-purpose brushed against her.
“Escape attempt, day after tomorrow, during lunch, find something thin to keep your door from locking,” Jemma sent. It was all she could manage in the time she had, and she hoped it would be enough, at least for now. They should be able to find a way to give them more information tomorrow, to orchestrate another couple brushes of exchange if needed. She threw away her wrapper and made her way around the table, then sat to wait for her turn to leave. Her connection with Jack was still present when she sat, and it lasted for a few minutes, significantly longer than usual.
Jemma wondered whether whatever was limiting telepathy—and therefore, apparently, protecting the non-test-subject inhabitants—had lessened, or whether somehow her overload and subsequent collapse had increased her abilities. Would that lead to an even faster decline if they couldn’t manage this escape? What would it mean for her even if they could? If people on the outside were only having headaches, not collapsing, they didn’t seem to have it as bad as Jemma did, but presumably, most of the people with enhanced abilities had been captured.
Jemma’s thoughts were interrupted by a friendly hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see Heidi grinning at her. The guard nodded at the door, and Jemma stood and walked out of the cafeteria.
“We need to stop by my room so I can get you a charger,” typed Heidi. Jemma nodded. She did her best to count the turns; since the hallway was just one long corridor, she couldn’t really get lost, but the doors off to the smaller sections weren’t marked. When they reached Heidi’s room, though, Jemma could tell they were in a living area. There was a common area with furniture and a television, and some of the rooms, of which there looked to be about twenty in total, must house families judging by the colorful decor on multiple doors. There was an exit on the other side of the common area, just past what looked like another cafeteria, this one with windows and open doors.
This wasn’t the way they wanted to leave.
Heidi opened an unmarked door and grabbed a charger from just inside, not even entering fully before rejoining Jemma in the hall and leading them back out of the living area. When they’d gotten back into the more clinical sections of the facility, she handed Jemma her still-uncharged phone and the charger for it. “You might want to use the outlet in the bathroom. I think that one works best.”
Jemma nodded, both frustrated by and grateful for her inability to ask questions in return. She wanted to ask why the woman was willing to risk her job and possibly her life to give them the information they needed to escape, but she wasn’t willing to just get them out of there herself. Wouldn’t it have been easier for Heidi to just walk the six of them out of the cafeteria?
They reached her room, and Heidi gave Jemma a wave before shutting her door. Jemma closed her eyes to listen; the heavy sound of the door against the frame nearly drowned out the sound of the small click as the door latched shut. The metal clicking against whatever was put there to block it should sound about the same, so as long as there was no reason for the guard to be actively listening for it, they should be safe.
The guard. Jemma wasn’t sure what would happen if she came across Heidi on an escape attempt, but she and Jack hadn’t discussed what would happen if they ran into other guards during their escape. They’d have to figure that out tomorrow.
She looked down at the phone she held, then took it into the bathroom, frowning as she realized there were no outlets in the room.
Her forehead smoothed as she remembered there were also no cameras.
She looked at the charger, which appeared completely normal, then turned her attention back to her phone. It was still dead. She pulled the back cover off, then watched a paper flutter to the ground.
She bent to pick it up. It was a thin paper that reminded her of the kind they used in bibles and encyclopedias, and on it was a map.
There wasn’t much detail, but there was a red circle around one of the doors, handwritten scribble identifying it: Exit.
FOURTEEN
Cooperation
Jemma studied the map, orienting herself based on the small asterisk marking the room that she was fairly certain belonged to her. The circled exit was not very far past the cafeteria. She frowned. They’d been so close, every day, to a way out. It did made her feel better, at least, knowing she’d never passed the door without realizing it.
She ran her finger along faint lines that didn’t quite fit the rest of the architecture, then flipped the paper over to see an order scribbled on the back, underlined twice: Flush Me.
She turned the paper over again, looking for any other clues, studying the distance from the cafeteria to the exit, counting the doors in case the exit was unmarked and unidentifiable. She worked on memorizing the map until she thought those watching might start getting suspicious, then allowed herself another few minutes; they wanted to start pushing their limits, anyway. She shoved the phone and charger into separate pockets, and then, after one last glance at the map, she flushed the paper, watching it as it spun out of sight.
Jemma walked back into her room, avoiding looking at the camera as she lay on the bed. She forced herself to stay put for several minutes, reminding herself she was putting on a show, pretending to have just enough energy to pout. While waiting, she thought through their situation again. She might only have to be here through one more full lunch break, another morning after that, and then they’d get out.
And then what?
If they assumed all the other information Heidi had slipped them or arranged for her to overhear was intentional, the information about requesting help from the police had to be intentional, too, didn’t it? That meant they probably couldn’t just go to the police and explain they’d been kidnapped.
They couldn’t overthrow this place on their own, either, couldn’t stop the experimentation or, conversely, force the scientists to accept help in finding a cure.
So they would have to figure something out, have to find someone they could trust either in law en
forcement or politics, someone with the power to do something, to stop this where Jemma was so powerless.
Someone who could keep Jemma from dying.
She got up and plugged in her phone, resting it on the desk where she usually ate breakfast and dinner, then made herself comfortable at the end of the bed, her back against the wall her door was in, trying to keep her feet so they would just barely show in the camera’s view. She was both drained and wired, worried and anticipatory. It was again effort for her to stay still as long as she thought she should, especially since her mind kept feeding her worst-case scenarios.
They would get caught by the guards as soon as they got out of their rooms.
They wouldn’t even get out of their rooms at all.
They’d get out of the building and there would be some sort of perimeter defense like in movies, and they’d be shot as soon as they left.
They’d make it out alive, but as soon as they got out of the telepathic suppression area, Jemma would pass out or her head would explode.
Jemma would make it out without Jack.
Jack would make it out without Jemma.
At least with the last two scenarios, one of them would still find a way to get help. The same applied if Ken or Marcia got out, or both of them; they’d find a way to get help for everyone else.
Jemma made a mental note to let the women know why it was so important that they get out.
She brought her knees up to her chest, pulling her feet out of view of the camera, and rested her head on her knees. She couldn’t remember her mind being quite so disorganized before, and she needed to focus if they were going to get out of this place. Right now, she should see whether someone eventually came to check on her if she wasn’t on camera for an extended period of time. If nobody came, maybe they weren’t actively monitoring her camera. Of course, it could also mean she wasn’t as out-of-view as she thought.
Tomorrow, they’d need to share a few things with Ken and Marcia. The women needed to know exactly when the attempt would be made, and they needed to know the reason behind it. They needed to know where the exit was, as did Jack.
Was that it? How could an escape be so simple and yet be so terrifying, with so many variables out of her hands?
***
Jemma spent the rest of the evening testing her limits with the camera boundaries, and she carried her tests over to the next morning. Nobody ever showed or knocked on the door, no matter how long she stayed in her corners or in the bathroom.
The morning passed slowly, but lunch started a little differently than usual; Jemma could feel Jack as soon as Heidi let her out of her room.
“Jack?” she sent, hoping Heidi wouldn’t say anything important just yet; she wasn’t up to listening to them both at once. “Where are you?”
“Just outside the cafeteria,” he sent back. “You already here?”
“I just left my room. I’ll talk when I’m there.” Either their rooms were farther apart than they’d thought or the concrete walls and heavy metal doors helped block the telepathy. Jemma tuned back in to what Heidi was saying, holding on to her connection with Jack as if it were a warm blanket.
“Hope you got your phone charged okay,” Heidi typed, and Jemma pulled hers out of her pocket.
“That helped a lot, thanks,” she typed back. Heidi nodded, seeming to get the message.
“Sorry I couldn’t do more. It’s a shame most of them who keep you in here get to go out and celebrate a birthday party tomorrow while you’re in that dingy cafeteria.”
Jemma nodded. “It’s been over a month.” She’d made sure to check the date on the paper that morning. “I haven’t even really thought about birthdays.” That wasn’t entirely true. She knew she’d missed Jilly’s.
“How’s your head?” typed Heidi.
“It’s better than it was a couple days ago.” That was true enough, anyway.
The chit-chat stayed light, nothing else clearly informational, and they reached the cafeteria quickly. Jemma’s eyes met Jack’s immediately, and she was stopped by tapping on her shoulder. “I do need to hold on to your phone for lunch. I’m sorry about that.”
Jemma frowned, an expression that didn’t take too much effort to call up, and handed her the phone, then walked toward the other end of the cafeteria, waiting until she reached the sandwich display to return his mental embrace and silent hello.
“We need to go through everything again today,” she sent. “And I need to try to send an image without contact. Heidi gave me a map, but I had to flush it.”
“Only send it if it’s not going to hurt you,” returned Jack as she joined him at the table. “I’d rather just have to meet you somewhere I already know than risk having you get one of those headaches again.”
“I’ll stop right away if it hurts,” she sent, backing it up with confidence she wasn’t sure she felt. But unlike so much of what they were planning, this was something under her control, at least to some degree. “Our connection has been stronger since whatever happened the other day, anyway.”
“I noticed, but I hadn’t figured out whether that was a good thing or not. It’ll make the escape easier. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Be quiet and eat your sandwich.” Jemma sent, aiming for stern librarian, and Jack’s lips twitched. Hopefully, the guards didn’t notice.
“Yes, ma’am.” He took a bite, and Jemma did the same, focusing the rest of her attention on the map, as best she could remember it, and on Jack. After a minute, she felt the image shimmer, then vibrate in almost a visual echo. “Got it,” he sent, along with awed respect. “Feeling okay?”
Jemma took another bite of her sandwich. “Yes, actually. I feel like myself still, and no headache. That was easier than the first times we tried it.”
“You amaze me, you know that? Escape is going to be nothing.”
“Escape.” Her confidence drained immediately, and her sandwich nearly refused to go down. “We really need to do this? There’s so much that could go wrong, so much that we can’t do anything about—”
“Hey.” At his soft, supportive tone, Jemma closed her eyes; she knew that if she looked into his, everything would be over, because anyone who saw would know, without a doubt, that they were Talking. “We are two of the most kick-ass people I know. We can do this. We can and will get out of here, and we will find someone who can take over from there.” Of course it had already occurred to Jack that they couldn’t just go to the cops. “We will go back to our normal lives before you know it, and we’ll be able to do this because you and I? We can take on anything they throw at us.”
Jemma took a deep breath, then sent acknowledgment. “As long as it’s one thing at a time.”
“That’s the plan.” Jack’s tone held amusement and affection, a combination she was used to feeling from him.
He had to make it out of here with her.
“We end lunch early by breaking a rule or something. There are enough of them,” she sent. “We keep the doors from locking. We proceed to the exit. Do we meet there?”
“Your room is closer to the exit,” sent Jack. “It doesn’t seem safe for either of us to wait around in the hallways. I’m not sure where Ken and Marcia are. It makes sense for us all to just get out and meet a safe distance from the door. We should be able to Talk once we get away from the building, so meeting up shouldn’t be a problem, not once we escape.”
“Right.” Jemma forced down another bite. “All right.”
“If you see or hear a guard coming, try the nearest door,” Jack sent. “Then there’s at least a chance.”
“Logical. And if an alarm goes off, we just run for it. We have a better chance of hiding if we’re out of the building and out on our own.”
“I’ll pass on the information this time, if you can maybe go talk to your guard for a second?” Jack crumpled his wrapper, and Jemma stood and walked toward the guards. Today, the second guard seemed bored rather than nervous, and he wasn’t somebody J
emma recognized. What excuse was she going to use?
When she reached them, she stood so that she blocked as much of the camera as she could, not sure whether it was enough to make a difference, but hoping that if they hadn’t approached her yesterday for her brush with Ken, they wouldn’t notice Jack’s brush with Marcia. She mimed typing on her phone, and Heidi handed Jemma her cell.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, but I forgot what time we came in. How much longer until we have to leave?”
“You have about five minutes,” the other guard answered, and Heidi retrieved the phone, looking almost amused. Jemma sat back down, and Jack had already taken his seat again, trash disposed of.
“I told them,” he sent. “We’re ready. All we have to do is wait.”
***
After a restless night, Jemma woke early, despite knowing she could use as much sleep as she could get. During breakfast, she noticed numerous mentions of headache activity in the newspaper, now that she was looking for them. Complaints found their way into personal ads, opinion pieces, and even a few of the more formal articles. Some buildings had been delayed because of mysterious illnesses plaguing their architects, and the number of help wanted ads was starting to rise again. There were no articles dedicated to the subject yet, so it wasn’t quite serious enough that the general public had noticed, but Heidi was right; it was getting bad out there, and it was up to Jemma, at least in part, to try to make things better.
Starting with escaping.
Today.
She ran for the bathroom, clutching the toilet just in time.
FIFTEEN
Chances
The pangs in her stomach were less an indicator that it was nearly time for lunch and more a reminder that it was almost time to get started. Jemma took a steadying breath at the knock on her door, then stood, leaving the relative safety of the back corner of her bed as the door opened. Heidi greeted her with a friendly smile, and she nodded in understanding when Jemma gestured toward her cell phone, which she’d left charging in plain sight. She was grateful the back cover didn’t come around very far to the front; it made its removal less conspicuous, and it made the back piece thinner, easier to slip between the door and the door frame, easier to hide against her skin along the seam of her jeans, the top barely concealed by her shirt.
Listen (Muted Trilogy Book 2) Page 10