Gravity (The Taking)

by Melissa West

  The serum enters my bloodstream, lighting up my insides, and just like before, I’m better within a few minutes. It’s amazing and makes me appreciate for the first time today just what a genius Mom is for creating it.

  I don’t want to waste time, so I grab a notes tablet and get started jotting down every possible type of location and any barriers we may face at each. A chamber inside the Chemist building, similar to the Ancient testing chambers, with cameras, guards, and nowhere to run would be the worst, I think, but I’m not sure they could build a chamber inside the building to hold hundreds of people. Not with all the labs already in place. I jot all this down, but the more I think about it, the more I feel sure they’ll build something outside, where space isn’t an issue. This brings me to the croplands. Acre upon acre of land, woods on one side that go on forever. That might be the perfect place, but then that’s where all our food is grown, which means lots of fieldworkers as witnesses to their plan. Most would turn a blind eye, but some might put up a fight. No, Parliament won’t want an audience.

  I’m wasting time guessing. What I need is a map of Sydia. I climb up the stairs, getting only a tad winded, and slip into my room.

  My T-screen fires up, flashing that I have messages. I hesitate, wanting to ignore them, but curiosity wins out and I click the first message, only to jerk back in shock.

  I’m coming for you.

  —J

  P.S. Please don’t die.

  I stare at the words for several minutes, convincing myself again and again that it can’t be from him, but then who else would know I’m sick? He knows. Of course he knows. But then how would he be able to send me the message? He couldn’t. No. But then…

  I shake my head to force myself back into focus. It doesn’t matter if he sent the message or not. I won’t let myself hope that he’s coming, because then I’ll never have the strength to do what I’m about to do. And I have to do this. I have to save these people.

  The note closes and files away into my message folder, hidden from view. I won’t allow myself to even glance at the folder. I can’t risk losing time, and I know if I succumb to it, I’ll read the note a million times, craving to find answers that aren’t there. Instead, I search my homework folders for a map to Sydia, sure I have one from various history lessons, and it’s just a matter of finding— A-ha!

  The map fills the screen. “Zoom out,” I command it, and watch as the map expands so all regions are visible. I never realized how much larger Process is than Landings, though we have half as many people. Parliament has always treated Landings people as though they were disposable, so I’m not sure why it surprises me they agreed to the execution base.

  I start at the croplands. Zooming in on each section, I try to see if there is anything isolated, but the map shows only field after field. Parliament would have to cut out a major section of crops to build the base, and there isn’t time for that. Business Park shows nothing of interest, only the Trinity Towers and shops in the District. There’s no amount of land, and I can’t imagine they would go underground there. Again, that’s too much work for so little time.

  Process reveals similar issues, and I’m about to close out the map when something just outside the city catches my eye. It isn’t detailed, but just outside city limits, beyond Process Park, is a single symbol—a hovercraft. I’ve never flown before, so I’ve never been to the airport, and often forget about it. It’s primarily used for business purposes, but it’s there, surrounded by land and isolated from potential lurkers. The only problem is that I have no idea how much land surrounds it. I reach for my notes tablet and, realizing I forgot it downstairs, open my desk drawer to search for another one, and I spy two things that I can’t believe I almost forgot—the poisonous trick knife Mom gave me and the gold universal keycard. I sigh with relief, feeling somehow better knowing I’ll have something from both of my parents with me. I slide them into my right boot just as I hear my front door open and close. I bolt from my room, eager to see who’s back and with what information.

  Gretchen stands in my foyer, balancing two cases in her arms. “If you’re feeling up to it, think you could give me some help?”

  “Oh, sure, yeah,” I say as I jump down the stairs and grab one of the cases from her. “What is all this stuff?”

  “You said you wanted weapons, so I brought all I could that wouldn’t look obvious. Where do you want it?”

  I nod toward our transfer door and wait as Gretchen gets into the elevator, a surprised look on her face. She’s never been to our training room. Dad’s orders. But I think today can be an exception.

  As soon as the door opens, the lights click on, revealing our tech-savvy, hardcore training room. I haven’t been here in several weeks, and seeing Gretchen’s jaw drop, I’m reminded of how amazing the room is and how lucky I was to train here. I motion for her to drop her case on the weapons shelf and start back for the door when Gretchen pipes up. “Can I… I mean, do you care if I…try a few?”

  I can’t help but smile. Regardless of what’s going on, Gretchen is still Gretchen. It’s a relief right now when I’m unsure of so many things. “Definitely,” I say and lean against the wall as she pulls a few different weapons from their shelves—a trick knife that can change size, several different guns, and then a grenade with a switch that changes its function.

  All of a sudden, we’re both smiling, happy for the first time today, but all happiness drains away when we go back upstairs to find Law in my sitting area, his expression grim. “This isn’t going to be easy,” he says, tapping his fingertips together. “Maybe even impossible. The base is a detached metal structure that’s really more cage than building. They control it from the outside, and the location couldn’t be worse. You’ll never guess.”

  “The airport,” I say. “I know. But it doesn’t matter. We have to get there, and time is running out.”

  Law nods; he knows me too well to argue. “The tron goes out there, but that would be obvious. The only other option is through the woods.”

  “Through the woods?” Gretchen says.

  “Yeah, the airport is on the other side of these woods. Surely you knew.”

  “No, I didn’t,” I say. “But it’s too far to walk. We’ll have to take the tron.”

  We all agree and set in to developing our strategy while we wait for Mom to return home with the serum. The best route seems to be to take the tron in and act normal. I’ve never flown, but Law has plenty of times and feels sure he can get past the guard. I’m not so confident, but I’ve packed backup in case we run into issues at the gate. Once we’re inside, everything should be easy. Well, until we get to the base, and then it becomes dangerous. My plan is to have Law go up to the main crew and claim he’s delivering a message from his mom telling them that they need to switch shifts. They won’t budge on that alone unless they’re idiots. I wouldn’t. But we don’t need them to move, we just need them distracted while Gretchen and I find a way inside the base to treat and release the infected.

  The only questionable element is whether an alarm will sound once we free everyone. If it does, we’re dead. We’ll be surrounded in no time, outnumbered and out-trained. So I pack a few grenades to use as a distraction just in case. We need to get in, release the infected, and get out, hopefully without anyone getting hurt. But I prepare myself mentally anyway. I may have to hurt or even kill someone I know, someone who works for my dad, in order to save these people.

  There is one port in Sydia, just north of the airport. There will be a few guards there, and it may be crowded thanks to Zeus’s announcement. I’m not sure how many people can pass through the port at once. I hope lots. But if not, these people may die waiting to be saved. I try not to think about it.

  Mom comes in through the back door carrying two large coolant bags. “I have one hundred and five vials. That’s the best I could do.” She slumps onto the sofa, and I reach out to hug her.

  “Thank you. I know what you’re risking. Thank you,” I say.
>
  She looks up and shrugs. “I can’t support what they’re doing. I wish I could go with you, but I’m not trained. Just please, please, please be careful. Please make it back home. Okay?”

  I don’t want to promise her that I will, so I just nod, hoping my smile convinces her, even though I’m not convinced myself.

  We spend the next twenty minutes getting into combat clothes, strapping weapons to holsters, and packing our backpacks with additional weapons—mainly guns but also grenades, trick knives, and flashlights, because you never know. Then Gretchen and I slide a coolant bag each into our packs, zip them up, and test them on our backs. It’s heavy but not unbearable. I inject two healing serums into my system to give me the strength I’ll need, slip a backup serum into my right boot beside the trick knife and master keycard, and then look around at the others. “It’s time.”

  CHAPTER 28

  As we climb onto the tron, I can’t help wondering if we look suspicious. Giant backpacks on each of our backs, combat clothes. I can’t imagine we look normal, but no one says anything; in fact, no one pays us any attention. I glance around the tron at the long faces and empty expressions. Many of these people lost a family member or a friend or a neighbor today.

  It’s a sad day for America, for the world.

  We ride in silence, afraid to speak for fear of revealing something about our plan by mistake. Thankfully, the ride is short, and we’re exiting onto the auto-walk that leads to the airport, the three of us its only passengers. We are so visible. I want to conceal myself, but my identity, along with Law’s, is what will get us inside.

  A guard station comes into view to the left of the walk, and a guard steps out, eyeing us with suspicion until he recognizes Lawrence. “Hello, Mr. Cartier,” he says. “Going on another visit today?”

  “No, just delivering some supplies and checking available hovercrafts. Mom might visit the Europeans tomorrow.”

  The guard nods, but inside I’m screaming at Law to come up with a better lie. President Cartier could have her assistant make a call to find out the available planes or she could check the information herself on her T-screen. There’s no way the guard will buy it, but then as soon as my doubts surface, the gate opens and he waves us forward. I fight to keep my composure as we continue on down the auto-walk and farther into the airport itself. It’s different than I imagined. A huge single-level building sits in front of us. All metal and no frills, with only a few windows and the set of double doors in the center where the auto-walk ends. On the right and left sides of the building are row after row of various hovercrafts, stretching all the way to the gate. I’ve seen them soaring over my house a zillion times, but it’s nothing like seeing one this close. They’re gigantic with shiny black exteriors and windows that hide what’s inside, creepy like a spider.

  “Hey, did you hear me?” Law whispers and I shake myself into focus.

  “Sorry, what?”

  “We’ll have to go inside,” he says. “The guard will be watching to make sure we do. Once in there, this gets tricky. I say you and Gretchen slip into the shadows as soon as we enter. Get to the back of the building. There’s another set of double doors in the middle, but to the far left is a single door that technicians use to get outside. Go through that one. I’m guessing the base will be out back. I’ll go talk to the crew as we planned, hopefully giving you enough time to slip out without notice.”

  Gretchen starts to protest, but the doors open and Law starts for the right, nodding me to the left. The “airport” is nothing more than a warehouse of supplies. Bins of scrap parts scatter across the open floor, giving me the perfect cover to skirt along the wall to the back door. It’s almost in sight when Gretchen trips behind me, barreling into a stack of bins and causing them to cascade to the floor with a loud clatter. Rushing footsteps close in, and the only thing between them and us is a stack of bins that is only six feet wide and maybe seven tall. If they peek around the bin, we’re caught. I’m torn between running for the door, staying still, or ducking into what looks like an office across from me, but what if someone’s in there? I suck in a breath and wait, listening, hoping I can tell which way they’re coming from. After the longest second of my life, the footsteps stop and a man yells, “Get Alex down here to clean this up.” Then the footsteps retreat and I release a breath, thankful luck is on my side today.

  Once we’re through the side door, there’s a set of stairs that leads down, but to what I can’t make out. My eyes dart around. I don’t see anyone. I race for the stairs, jumping down from the first level to the next and onto a flat metal surface as long and wide as two of my houses. Past the metal surface is nothing but woods, and nothing and no one is visible from the right or left. I study the surface, at a loss for what it is, when Gretchen reaches me, her breath heavy. “Care to warn me before you pull out your freakish abilities? We can’t all jump down a flight of stairs,” she hisses.

  I grimace. “Sorry,” I say, and then point to the ground. “What do you think this is? Surely not the base. Unless it’s underground, then we’d be…”

  “Standing on the roof,” she says.

  And as though the thing heard us, it begins to shake and rattle, sending us stumbling backward. A four-by-eight section to the right and center of us slides open and a guard slips out, biting into an apple, oblivious to us standing there until I punch him in the gut and right hook to hopefully knock him out, but before I can check, the door starts to lower back down. I scream at Gretchen, “Keep watch. I’ll be back in ten. If not…If not—”

  “No. Don’t even think it. Just hurry.”

  I dip inside the opening moments before it closes, but I’m met by darkness. My eyes strain to find a hint of light, and then, “Is someone there?” a voice calls. The rest of my senses heighten, and though I can’t see an inch in front of my face, I know people are there. I hear their heartbeats, their breaths. I smell their sweat, their vomit, their urine. But worst of all, I feel their fear. It’s overwhelming to sense so much from so many all at once.

  I fumble in my backpack to find the flashlight I slid into the outside pocket and click it on, only to wish I’d done this in the dark. One long walkway darts down the center of the base, starting at the platform I stand on and ending at the opposite wall. On the right and left sit four cages of people, crammed in so blood drips from those against the cage walls, the metal pressing into their skin. But they look content compared to those in the back. Many are hyperventilating, others sobbing. It’s the worst possible nightmare come true for these people. I have to get them out.

  “Hello,” I say, hoping to get their attention. But when no one says anything I strengthen my voice and call out, “I’m here to free you, but I’m going to need your help.” This gets them going, and a few people call out to me, begging for me to free them first.

  Then an elderly lady, two cages back on my right, says, “What can we do?”

  I rush over to her, realizing she may be the only sane person in the group. “I need to know how to open the cages. Do you have any clue? A keycard? A security system?”

  She tries to move but is unable to budge. “They keep going under the steps, but I’m not sure what’s down there.”

  “Thank you,” I say and dash back to the steps. Sure enough, there’s a tiny room under the stairs, no larger than a closet, and filled with equipment and a T-screen that flashes with a reading every few seconds, but of what I can’t be sure. Think, Ari, I tell myself.

  I click on the T-screen and try to override the password, thinking maybe the cages have computerized locks, but I can’t even get into the system to find out. I focus my flashlight on every inch of the tiny room, hoping to find anything that clues me in, and just when I’m about to scream, the light passes over a scanner. Of course. Everything in our world operates by a scanner, but they wouldn’t… I reach into my boot and pull out the gold keycard, hesitating, and then slide it through the scanner. Instantly, the words ACCESS OVERRIDE: GRANTED fill the screen, and
then two things pop up at once. A timer set to twenty-five seconds and a list of names that must be the people caged in front of me. I fight the urge to scan the list, wondering if I’ll recognize any of the names. I close both of the screens and search for anything that could do with locks when I think back to the filing system at Parliament when Jackson and I stole the video to lab three. I had to scan the master key once to get into the room and again to unlock the files. Maybe this is similar.

  I swipe the keycard, expecting either the cage doors to open or nothing to happen at all, but instead, another window pops up on the T-screen asking for a seven-digit password. I have no clue what it might be and time is running out. I step around the stairs and address the group again. “It wants a seven-digit password. Any clues or suggestions? It might lock me out if I enter something wrong.”

  A soft voice speaks up from the very back left cage, so small I can hardly hear it.

  “What was that?” I ask, nearing. “I can’t hear you.”

  I shine the flashlight into the cage and stumble back, falling hard onto the ground. “No. How in the world…?”

  “I said, try Freedom,” Cybil says, her voice strong, her head high. Even now, she’s an Operative, always on the job.

  “Cybil. Of all people, I never would have guessed.”

  She moves in what I guess is a shrug, but her body can’t shift enough to complete the response. “What can I say? I got curious.” She breaks into a coughing fit before she can continue. “We have loads of xylem around the office. I just wanted to see… And now, well, I guess irony about covers it.”