by Gary Urey
Kostia quickly returned and steered the car to a parking spot in front of a row of cheap-looking rooms. Loosha opened the back door, flung Axel over his broad shoulders, and carried him inside.
“Lock him in the bathroom,” Kostia said and tossed his partner a roll of silver duct tape. “Cover his mouth with this.”
Axel plunked down on the dirty linoleum floor, his face inches from what looked and smelled like a puddle of urine. The man clutched Axel by the scalp with one hand and then duct-taped his mouth and eyes with the other.
“Hope you don’t catch cold and get a stuffy nose,” Loosha said. “You will suffocate to death for sure.”
The bathroom lights went out, a door slammed, and everything fell silent. Axel lay there in the cold darkness, his breathing labored, for the rest of the night. When the Warp reset the next day, he and the Pursuers were hurtling at the speed of light back to the Doctor’s headquarters.
Chapter Thirteen
DAISHA
Daisha ran blindly through the dark woods. Low-growing tree branches and bushes spiked with sharp thorns scraped her bare arms and legs. When the trees opened up to blossoming potato fields, she sprinted harder, her arms and legs pumping madly. Only then did she dare to glance backward.
The Pursuers were nowhere in sight.
Of course not, she thought. I kicked the crap out of both of them and grabbed…
Daisha stopped in her tracks. She held the solar tracker up to the moonlight. The thing was no bigger than a silver dollar. It was black, encased in hard metal. A small blue light in the center pulsed every few seconds, illuminating the unit with neon starbursts.
Her GeoPort throbbed to life. She yanked it from her front pocket and noticed that every time the tracker pulsed with blue light, her GeoPort buzzed at the same time.
“That’s how those losers track me,” she said aloud. “When the tracker flashes, they know I’m close. That means I’m tracking myself right now!”
She reared her arm back and flung the solar tracker into a mucky pond nearby.
“Now you can track frogs and sunfish,” she said and started running again.
She didn’t stop until the first winks of morning twinkled on the horizon. A gas station and convenience store named Sparky’s One-Stop sat on a strip of asphalt between forks in the road. From her hiding place, Daisha watched as a steady stream of hurried commuters stopped to fill their tanks and grab a morning cup of coffee.
A truck delivering fresh baked goods wheeled into the parking lot. The luscious, sugary scent of powdered doughnuts wafted into Daisha’s nostrils. Her stomach grumbled with hunger.
Deciding she was safe from the Pursuers even in daylight, she crossed the road and walked into the convenience store. The delivery person was filling shelves. A middle-aged woman with waist-length silver hair was behind the register. Standing in the checkout line were three customers. They all stopped what they were doing and stared at her.
Daisha saw a sign with an arrow next to the milk cooler that said Restroom. She made a beeline toward it and locked the door behind her. Tears burst from her eyes as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror.
She was filthy. Mud and dirt caked her face. Twigs and sticky burrs clung to her dreadlocks. Bloody scratches covered her arms and legs; her clothes were tattered and torn. She turned on the faucet, cupped warm water in her palms, and washed her face.
A knock came at the restroom door.
“Are you okay in there, honey?” Daisha guessed it was the woman from behind the cash register.
“Uh…um…” Daisha stuttered. “I’m fine.”
“Well, you don’t look fine. Are you with someone outside?”
“No.”
“Then do you need me to call someone?”
Daisha let out an exasperated sigh. “I told you I’m fine. I’m just going to the bathroom.”
She heard the woman walk away. Daisha spent the next several minutes cleaning her face, hair, and bloody scratches with wet paper towels. She had scrubbed off most of the mud and dried blood, but her clothes were still a grungy mess. Her only other outfit was inside the satchel back with the Pursuers.
“Are you done yet?” a man’s voice said through the door. “You’ve been in there for almost ten minutes.”
Daisha opened the door, and her heart skipped a beat. Standing there was a tall, skinny police officer in uniform. Strapped around his waist were a holstered gun, handcuffs, and a baton.
The officer looked at the woman behind the counter. “Is this the one you told me about?”
The woman nodded.
“Have a rough night?” the officer asked Daisha.
“Not really,” Daisha answered.
“It looks like you slept in a barn. What’s your name?”
“Da…Da…Danielle,” she said, not wanting to use her real name.
The officer narrowed his eyes. “Do you live around here, Danielle?”
Daisha nodded her head.
“Where do you live?”
The instinct to run surged through Daisha’s body, but she was standing in a small hallway and the police officer was blocking the way.
“Fredericktown,” she said, remembering the name from the boy in the cornfield when she had first blasted through the Warp.
“Where in Fredericktown?” the officer asked. “What’s your address?”
The blank expression on Daisha’s face told the officer all he needed to know. He grabbed her elbow and said, “I think you should come with me.” He led her out of the store and into an awaiting police cruiser.
“How old are you?” the officer asked when she slid into the backseat.
“Thirteen,” Daisha spit out, deciding that it was no use lying about her age.
A thick pane of shatterproof glass separated the front and back seats. Daisha tilted back her head, closed her eyes, and wondered what would come next. Every muscle in her body ached with exhaustion. All she wanted to do was take a shower, crawl between clean sheets, and sleep this whole nightmare away.
“Hungry?” the officer asked and slipped an English muffin wrapped in aluminum foil into the backseat. “It’s an egg, cheese, and bacon sandwich. My wife made it for me this morning, but you look like you need it a lot more than me.”
Daisha didn’t even take the time to say thank you. She tore open the foil and gobbled down the breakfast sandwich. While she ate, the officer radioed into the police station.
“I picked up a thirteen-year-old girl off of Granville Road who looks in rough shape,” the officer said. “She may be a runaway. Get someone from Child Protective Services.”
“There’s no way I’m going with Child Protective Services,” Daisha said through a mouthful of food.
“Excuse me?” the officer muttered.
“Nothing,” Daisha quickly answered. “The sandwich is good. Thanks.”
She reached down and felt the GeoPort in her front pocket. She had watched a crime show on TV once where the arrested person had to empty out his pockets at the police station. Although she knew the police officer wasn’t technically arresting her, he may check her pockets when they got to the station. The Pursuers had almost killed her several times in their efforts to get the GeoPort. There was no way she’d allow a small-town cop to take it from her. She had to find a way to escape. Since the backseat had no handles, opening the door and jumping out of the moving car was not an option. She had to think of something—and fast.
As the cruiser pulled into the police station, Daisha saw her chance. When the officer opened the back door, she’d tear away and run for her life.
A chirping sound came from the GeoPort in her pocket.
Utter joy and relief swelled inside Daisha’s heart. Twenty-four hours were up, and the Warp had reset! She could warp out of Ohio to the dog run in Palo Alto. Axel might be waiting there for her. They would be together again!
The coordinates of the Hoover Park Dog Run burned in her memory.
37.4302° N, 122.1288° W
The back door of the cruiser opened. The officer motioned for Daisha to follow him. She took four steps alongside the officer and then tore across the parking lot.
“Get back here!” the officer yelled in pursuit.
When Daisha had a good twenty yards’ distance between her and the man, she stopped in her tracks and pulled out the GeoPort.
“She has a weapon!” the officer shouted and reached for his gun.
Her hands were shaking, heart racing. She fumbled nervously with the GeoPort, quickly punching in coordinates. And just as the officer was ready to pounce on her, she pushed the button and detonated into the Warp.
Chapter Fourteen
AXEL
Axel compared a flight through the Warp to leaping off a skyscraper directly into the aurora borealis. Brilliant hues of red, green, yellow, and pink illuminated the swirling tunnel. A plasma tail like from a comet trailed behind him. He felt the tiny bursts of charged particles colliding off one another while the magic of the GeoPort, the solar wind, and Earth’s magnetic field transported him to anywhere in the world in a matter of moments.
The only difference between this trip and the others was the company. Instead of sensing Daisha’s warm body next to him as they plummeted through the void, he felt the cold, rough hands of the Pursuers gripping his elbows. The fact that Axel’s wrists were still handcuffed behind his back made the journey all the more uncomfortable.
An enormous, translucent membrane came into view. Reflections of brilliant iridescence like a million butterfly wings filled Axel’s vision. He felt himself accelerate at supersonic speed toward the light. His stomach lurched, and his brain spun like a top. A solar flare–fueled, geomagnetic blast exploded all around him.
And then he, Loosha, and Kostia punched through the Warp.
“Welcome back to California,” Loosha said, wiping beads of sweat off his brow.
They had landed roughly on a large trampoline, and were now bouncing harmlessly up and down, slowly coming to a stop.
“Doesn’t look like California to me,” Axel said.
“We’re in the basement of Hatch Enterprises in lovely Mountain View,” Kostia said. “How do you like our landing pad? It sure beats falling directly on concrete or packed dirt.”
“I’ve had better trips.”
“You and your little dziewczyna have been through the Warp many, many times,” Loosha said. “No two trips are alike. Correct?”
“Take off these handcuffs, and I’ll tell you.”
Kostia tightened Axel’s restraints. “We do what Doctor Stain tells us to do. You stay secure until he says otherwise.”
“Do you call him Doctor Stain to his face?” Axel asked, remembering meeting the man at his father’s laboratory at Stanford University. Seeing the birthmark for the first time had made him queasy.
Loosha chuckled. “We’re not suicidal. We want to live long enough to spend all the money Dr. Stain will give us for capturing you. There was a five-million-dollar bounty on your head alone.”
“You’ll never get Daisha.”
“From what I have heard on the chatter lines, my comrades have already captured her,” Kostia said. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t us. Our reward money would have doubled!”
Axel’s heart deflated in his chest. He felt sick, scared, and hopeless. Their many months of running were over. The Doctor had finally captured them. The lunatic was moments from having possession of the GeoPort, and an inevitable death sentence awaited them.
The basement door flew open. Two armed guards pulled Axel off the trampoline and led him to an elevator. One of the guards pressed a button, and the elevator lurched upward.
When the doors opened and Axel saw who was waiting for him, he nearly keeled over. There, standing in the waiting room of the most opulent office Axel had ever seen, was the Doctor. The enflamed birthmark on the side of his face was unmistakable.
Deep, unbridled hate of the man instantly boiled Axel’s blood. It took every ounce of his willpower not to spit in the Doctor’s face.
“Here is the prisoner,” one of the armed guards said.
“Remove those handcuffs!” the Doctor scolded. “He is not a prisoner. He is my guest. Take him for a shower and a clean set of clothes. I want him back in my office in exactly one hour.”
The guards grunted an apology and led Axel back onto the elevator. Three floors later, they were marching into what reminded Axel of his middle-school gym locker room. There were benches and lockers for changing and storing clothes, sinks, a row of urinals, and some shower stalls.
Axel stepped into a stall and pulled the curtain. He peeled off his grungy clothes, grabbed a bar of soap from a rack, and stepped into the shower. The hot water felt like heaven washing over him. A week’s worth of dirt and grime swirled down the drain as he rinsed his hair and scrubbed his filthy body.
He wondered why the Doctor hadn’t killed him on the spot. After all, the man now had the GeoPort and had already assassinated Daisha’s mother and his father. What else could the Doctor possibly want from him? Thoughts of escape filled Axel’s mind, but he knew the idea was futile. The two armed guards were standing feet from the shower stall, their twitchy fingers ready to fire in case of any funny business. He hoped Daisha was washing up too and he’d see her back in the Doctor’s office.
Axel turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. One of the guards drew back the curtain and tossed him a towel and a set of new clothes. He dried off and slipped on a pair of clean khakis, a green long-sleeved button-down shirt, socks, and brand-new black sneakers. The guards led him back to the Doctor’s office. Daisha wasn’t there. It was just the Doctor, a man Axel didn’t recognize, and a young woman with blond hair.
“I have dinner waiting for you,” the Doctor said to Axel. A sleazy smile stretched across his face. “I can only imagine how famished you must be after such a long ordeal.”
Spread out on an oak table in the middle of the room were almost all of Axel’s favorite foods—pepperoni pizza, barbeque chicken, pasta salad, and fresh falafel and chicken skewers from Ammar’s Hummus Shop. The last thing in the world Axel wanted to do was eat the Doctor’s food, but his hunger was too great. He sat down and tore into the chicken skewers.
“Slow down, my friend,” the Doctor said. “You’ll give yourself a stomachache.”
I’m not your friend, Axel thought silently to himself and continued eating.
“My name is Brad Pinchole, PhD,” said the man Axel didn’t recognize. “I’m the director of Satellite Warp science. I have a lot of questions for you.”
“Let the boy eat first,” the Doctor said.
“Where’s Daisha?” Axel asked.
“She’ll be here soon,” Pinchole replied.
Axel wiped his mouth and expelled a loud burp. “I want to see her now,” he said.
The Doctor and Pinchole shot each other a meaningful look.
“In due time,” the Doctor said. “First, we need to speak with you.”
“You know the ins and outs of geographical transportation better than anyone,” Pinchole jumped in. “I want to know all its bugs, kinks, and ornery sides.”
“Why should I tell you anything?” Axel barked. “You’ve been chasing me and Daisha for six months, trying to kill us just like you did our parents!”
A shocked look washed over the Doctor’s face. “Your parents are not dead. Where did you ever get such a morbid idea?”
Axel stared at the Doctor in disbelief. Could it be true?
“But…I saw them,” he stammered. “Your men…shot them in the dog park. Right after our parents gave us the GeoPorts.”
“Get his father on the video right away,” the Doctor ordered.
Pinchole took out his phone, found what he was looking for, and turned on a large-screen monitor mounted on the wall. On the screen were his father and Daisha’s mother in their messy lab in the Varian Physics Building. The two of them were busy working. A young woman with long black hair parte
d in the middle and icy blue eyes briefly entered the frame. She grabbed a folder off his father’s desk and then disappeared from the camera’s view. Axel recognized her immediately. Her name was Megan, one of his father’s graduate assistants. She had been to his house a few times for dinner and once went on a trip with him and Daisha and their parents to Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco.
“See, they are right where they are supposed to be, working,” the Doctor said. “They have been worried sick and have been diligently trying to find you.”
“This can’t be,” Axel said. “I saw them get shot through the chest. I watched them die.”
“What you saw was an unintended consequence of the GeoPorts,” Pinchole offered. “We—I mean, your parents—discovered that the GeoPorts produce small levels of deep-space radiation. Too much exposure causes wild, paranoid hallucinations much like a psychedelic drug. You and Daisha were the unintended victims of that mind-altering contamination. Now that the GeoPort is out of your possession, you can see reality clearly.”
“Are you trying to say that what happened to me over the past six months was one big mind freak?”
“Not all of it,” the Doctor said. “You and Daisha were definitely traveling through the Warp. But everything else was a fantasy. Those men who you erroneously thought were trying to kill you were in reality trying to rescue you.”
“They work for your parents and Stanford University,” Pinchole added. “The Doctor offered to foot the bill to pay for their services.”
Axel ran a hand through his long, curly hair, not quite understanding what he was hearing. Could it be true? Had he just woken up from one long nightmare? Was his father still alive, and everything would soon return to normal?
“Then why was I handcuffed?” Axel asked. “Your men gagged me with duct tape.”
“Not true,” the Doctor said. “Again, this was all part of your radiation-induced illusions.”
“But we thought you were trying to kill us.”
The Doctor sat down on the couch and draped his arm around Axel’s shoulders. “I don’t want to kill you. I want you and Daisha to work for me.”