Michael Vey: The Prisoner of Cell 25

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Michael Vey: The Prisoner of Cell 25 Page 13

by Richard Paul Evans


  Taylor swallowed.

  “Would you?”

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  “I thought so. You’re a good girl. I like that about you.” He leaned toward her. “We want to study you to see why you lived and they didn’t. You can help us learn what’s the difference between your body and theirs. If we can isolate that factor, we can create electric children without endangering their lives. And you, Taylor, hold a very special key to that discovery—something that the other Glows can’t help us with. Do you want to know what that is?”

  Taylor slowly nodded.

  “You did well in science,” Hatch said. “I’ve seen your transcripts.

  You got an A- on Mr. Poulsen’s last biology test. Not bad. So you know that one of the tools we scientists use to study genetics is identical twins. Especially those who have been separated from each other at birth. It teaches us things about genetic influences versus environmental factors—what you’re born with compared to what you pick up along the way. You, Taylor, are one of those identical twins.”

  “I’m not a twin.”

  “Au contraire,” Hatch grinned. “I’d like you to meet someone.” He turned back toward the door. “Nichelle, please ask Tara to come in.”

  At his command, a girl stepped into the room. Taylor froze. The girl looked exactly like her. Before she could say a word, Tara walked up to her and smiled. “Hi, sis.”

  Taylor’s eyes darted back and forth between Hatch and Tara. “I don’t understand.”

  Hatch smiled. “Ah, the learning begins. There are a lot of things you don’t understand yet,” Hatch said. “But you will.” He smiled at Tara. “Have a seat, Tara. Just there on the bed.”

  “Thank you.”

  Hatch’s voice came softer, almost gentle. “Taylor, you were born a twin. When your biological mother, a teenage girl named Gail Nash of Monrovia, California, gave you up for adoption, Tara was the first to be adopted. She went to a home right here in Pasadena just three miles from the academy—right here in our own backyard. We found her almost nine years ago.”

  He looked at Tara, who nodded enthusiastically. “Nine years this coming June.”

  Taylor just stared at the girl in astonishment. Could this be some kind of trick?

  “You, Taylor, on the other hand, were adopted by a family in another state. And everyone knows how inefficient government bu-reaucrats can be. Your records were lost in the transfer between state agencies. You vanished like a grain of rice in a rice patty. We might never have found you had you not come looking for your birth records.”

  Taylor felt sick. Ostin was right; she had exposed them.

  “There were seventeen electric children. We had located them all except for two. You and Michael Vey.”

  Taylor jumped when he said Michael’s name.

  Hatch smiled. “Yes, you know Michael, don’t you?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Don’t worry. You did him a favor by leading us to him. We might never have found him without you.”

  She felt even worse. “He’s here?”

  “Not yet. But he soon will be. In fact, he doesn’t know it yet, but he’s about to start planning his trip to see us.” He turned to Tara.

  “That’s all for now. Why don’t you come back a little later and show Taylor around.”

  She stood. “Okey-dokey.” She smiled at Taylor. “It’s so exciting to finally see you. You’re going to love it here. We’re contributing to the world in a way you never dreamed possible. And Dr. Hatch is the smartest man alive.” Tara looked back at Hatch and he nodded his approval.

  “There are some really cool benefits to being here, like we’re not treated like children. Also, we have family vacation twice a year. I’ve been all around the world. And we get cool presents.” She flashed her diamond watch. “How many fifteen-year-olds have a twenty-three-thousand-dollar diamond Rolex watch?”

  “Thank you, Tara,” Hatch said. “You can tell her all about it later.”

  “I’ve gotta go. I’m so glad you found us. I’ve waited years for us to be together. Ciao!”

  She walked out of the room.

  “Beautiful girl,” Hatch said. “Of course, you know that, since you’re an exact replica.” He leaned forward, his face taking a gentle demeanor. “So let me tell you what you can expect while you’re here.

  Over the next few days we’ll be doing some general kinds of physi-ological testing. Basic stuff—blood work, an electrocardiogram, and a full body scan. We also have some special tests we’ve designed to help understand your special gifts. Nothing painful; we just want to make sure you’re healthy. The doctors out there don’t understand special individuals like you, and so they miss things. We’ve already saved the lives of some of your colleagues.”

  “I just want to go home.”

  Hatch moved closer to her. “Taylor, I know it’s hard right now.

  You’ve been plucked from all you know like a rose from a weed patch. Change is always hard, but that doesn’t mean it’s not good.

  Usually the hard things in our life lead to good.”

  Taylor wiped her eyes. “You’re not going to let me go home?”

  “Look, just five minutes ago you didn’t even know that you have a sister, and now you do. And soon your friend Michael will be joining us. You need to stop thinking of this as an abduction, and think of it as a long-awaited homecoming—a family reunion, if you will. This is your home.”

  “For how long?” Taylor asked.

  Hatch looked at her with a perplexed gaze. “For the rest of your life.”

  Part Three

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The Revelation

  One thing I knew about Ostin, if he didn’t understand something, his brain attacked it without ceas-ing, comparing facts and calculating figures with the intensity of a computer-processing chip. Around nine-thirty at night his break-through came. He was lying on the couch in my front room, staring at the ceiling as I paced from one side of the room to the other like a caged leopard.

  “I just don’t get it,” I said. “How did they know who I am? How did they know about our powers?”

  Ostin was quiet for another minute, then he suddenly shouted,

  “That’s it!”

  “What’s it?”

  He jumped up from the couch. “I’ve been trying to figure out why they came after you at all. You weren’t looking for those records.” He looked at me, his eyes wide with excitement. “It’s because they don’t care about the records.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re not trying to hide the information about what their machine did. They’re looking for the survivors. And when they found Taylor they found you!”

  I’m not following you.”

  “Look, these guys have all the records of every baby who survived. What if those other children all had powers like yours and Taylor’s? If they discovered that their machine gave those babies special powers, that could be worth billions.”

  “That’s a big ‘if,’” I said.

  “Is it? You said the other kid, Zeus, shocked your mother, right?

  So we know there’s at least one other”—he spoke the word cautiously—“mutant.

  “The only other people we know who were born at that hospital at that time have electrical powers. So statistically, we’re batting a thousand. There were seventeen children who survived. Maybe they all have powers.”

  He paused, waiting for the last of the puzzle pieces to come together. Then he pounded the palm of his hand with his fist. “It was a fake.” Ostin looked at me the way he did when he solved a difficult math problem. “The whole thing with the gunman was fake. It was a test.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Because you don’t pick up an electric eel without getting shocked. They first had to see what you could do. You said the man in the sunglasses appeared after you shocked the gunman, right?”

  “That’s right. And he said, ‘Well done, M
ichael.’” I stopped pacing.

  “You might be on to something. He knew my name and what I did.

  And Clyde . . .”

  “Who’s Clyde?”

  “He’s the gunman. I remember thinking that he looked really nervous, like he didn’t want to be there. He was shaking like crazy. And his gun didn’t even have bullets.” I looked down. “But then why did they take my mom and not me?”

  “Maybe they wanted to take both of you, but didn’t get the chance. You said you heard me coming, right?”

  “Right.”

  “But they were gone by the time I returned. They must have run out of time. They already had your mother, so they took her and ran.”

  “Which means they’re probably still looking for me.”

  “They don’t have to,” Ostin said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “They have your mother. They know you’ll come looking for them.” He looked in my eyes. “Whoever took your mom took Taylor.

  So if we can find one of them, we can find the other.”

  I suddenly had a flash of inspiration. “Wait. I think I know where Taylor is.”

  “Where?”

  “The academy.”

  I ran into my bedroom and found the brochure Taylor had given me from her locker. I brought it back out to the front room and spread it open on the counter. “Here. It’s got to be the place. Or at least it’s connected.”

  Ostin looked at the brochure. “Five-Thirteen Allen Avenue, Pasadena, California.” He looked up. “I think you’re right. I’m betting that the Elgen Academy is really just for kids with electrical powers.”

  Ostin’s logic made sense to me. Why else would they offer a scholarship to me when there were hundreds of kids with better grades? “You could be right,” I said.

  “Now what?” Ostin asked.

  “We tell the police,” I said.

  Ostin shook his head. “No way. They’ll never believe us.”

  “Why wouldn’t they?”

  “Think about it. Two teenagers walk into a police station and tell them that a secret agency is kidnapping mothers and cheerleaders?”

  Hearing it like that did sound crazy.

  “But we have proof,” I said.

  “No, we have a hunch and some articles on the Internet. They’ll think we’re crazy. And even if we somehow convinced them to look into it, this is a multibillion-dollar company. If they find anyone snooping around they’ll just move your mom and Taylor and then we have nothing.” Ostin stood and began to pace. “We need to know more about our enemy. But it’s not like they’re going to have a Face-book profile. Where do we learn more?”

  “Clyde, the gunman,” I said.

  “But he’s in jail.”

  “Lieutenant Lloyd could get us to him.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “He said their first interrogation was worthless. Maybe I can convince him that I might be more effective.” I brought out the card Lieutenant Lloyd had given me. “I’m going to call him.” I immediately went to the phone and dialed Lloyd’s cell phone number.

  A gruff voice answered. “This is Boyd.”

  His full name was Boyd Lloyd? No wonder he went by Lieutenant. “Lieutenant Lloyd, this is Michael Vey.”

  “Michael. What can I do for you?”

  I had been so eager to call him that I had dialed without thinking about what I was going to say. “I, uh, just had a thought. You said you had spoken to the gunman, but he didn’t say much.”

  “No, he was as tight as pantyhose on a hippo.”

  “I was wondering if maybe he would talk to me.”

  “You want to speak with Clyde?”

  “Well, maybe seeing me might make him talk.”

  There was a long pause. “Frankly, we couldn’t do much worse than we did with his last interrogation. Hold on, I’m going to call my partner. May I call you back at this number?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Bye.” I hung up the phone.

  “What’s up?” Ostin asked. “Why did you hang up?”

  “He wants to talk to his partner.”

  About ten minutes later my phone rang. “Michael, it’s Lieutenant Lloyd.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I spoke with my partner. He thinks there’s a chance it might work—a small chance, but worth trying. So if you’re willing to face Clyde, I say let’s go for it.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “What time are you available?”

  “Any time is good. I’m not back to school yet.”

  “Then how about I pick you up in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I have your address on the police report. I’ll come by around ten.”

  “I’ll be ready. Thank you.”

  “Thank you, Michael. We’ll keep our fingers crossed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Bye.” I hung up then turned to Ostin. “We’re in.”

  “Well done,” Ostin said. “You know, you could always just shock Clyde again.”

  “The man helped kidnap my mother. Whatever it takes,” I said.

  “Whatever it takes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Clyde

  I didn’t sleep well that night. I had a nightmare of my mother sitting in a cage at the zoo surrounded by laughing hyenas and calling for me to help her. Ostin woke me when he knocked on my door at seven. I answered the door still in my pajamas. He was dressed for school.

  “What’s up?” I asked groggily.

  “Not you,” he said. “My mom told me to come get you for breakfast.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “Okay. I’ll be right there.”

  I went back to my room and put on my robe, then walked down the hall to the Lisses’ and let myself in. Breakfast was on the table and Ostin and his father were already eating. Mrs. Liss had made wheat toast with a fried egg in the middle.

  Mr. Liss was reading the paper and dipped it a little to look at me.

  “Good morning, Michael.”

  “Good morning,” I replied.

  “That’s your plate,” Ostin said.

  I sat down next to him.

  At the sound of my voice, Mrs. Liss came out of the kitchen.

  “Good morning, honey. How did you sleep?”

  “Not very well.”

  “That’s understandable. You just make yourself right at home.”

  I poured myself a glass of orange juice.

  “There are hash browns too,” Ostin said, pushing a plate my way.

  “With cheddar.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Is there anything else you want?” Mrs. Liss asked. “Do you need some ketchup or Tabasco sauce for your egg?”

  “No. I’m good,” I said.

  Mr. Liss glanced at his watch and set down his paper. “I’ve got to go.” He stood, looking at us. “You boys take it easy.” Mr. Liss had an unusually deep voice that made everything he said sound like an order.

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  “See ya, Dad,” Ostin said.

  Mr. Liss grabbed his jacket and keys from the counter, kissed Mrs.

  Liss, then walked out. When he was gone Mrs. Liss said, “I forgot the salt and pepper.” She walked back to the kitchen.

  Ostin said in a hushed voice, “I wish I could go with you to the police station.”

  “Me too.”

  “Are you nervous to see him?”

  “Yeah.” I took a drink of juice.

  Mrs. Liss walked back in. “Here you go, darlin’.” She salt-and-peppered my egg for me even though I didn’t want it. “So, Michael, do you feel up to going to school today?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “Lieutenant Lloyd is going to pick me up at ten.

  We’re going down to the station to talk to the man they put in jail.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Oh? I didn’t know that. Would you like me to go with you?”

  “No, I’ll be all right.”

  “How are you on clothes? Do you need som
e laundry done?”

  “I’m okay for now.” The truth was, I’d been wearing the same clothes for three days.

  “Well, whatever you need, just ask. I’ll just be your mama until your mama gets back.”

  “Thank you,” I said, grateful for how she’d said it.

  Ostin finished eating then went and got his backpack. “School awaits.” I walked to the door with him. “Good luck,” he said. “Bones.”

  “Bones,” I replied. We bumped fists and then he walked off down the hallway.

  “Thank you for breakfast, Mrs. Liss.”

  “You’re welcome. Please let me know when you get back from the police station.”

  “Sure thing.” I went back to my apartment and showered and dressed. Then it was time to go outside to the parking lot to wait.

  I was sitting on the curb when Lieutenant Lloyd pulled up in his police cruiser. He rolled down his window. “Good morning, Michael.”

  The morning sun was just above the mountains and I shielded my eyes with both my hands. “Hi.”

  “How are you?”

  I shrugged. I know he was just being friendly but it was kind of a stupid question. “I’ve been better.”

  He nodded sympathetically. “Come sit in the front seat.”

  I climbed into the car, put on my seat belt, and we drove downtown.

  The drive to the jail took about twenty minutes. I was ticking a lot. Lieutenant Lloyd didn’t say anything about it, but I’m pretty sure he noticed because he asked me again if I really wanted to do this. I guess taking a minor into the jail is pretty unusual, and he was probably having second thoughts about it. I told him I was positive it was the right thing.

  When we arrived at the jail I went through all the security, metal detectors and all, then followed Lieutenant Lloyd down a long corridor passing other police officers on the way. At the end of the hall were two doors. He led me into the door on the left into a darkened room. “This is the observation room,” he explained. “This is where we watch what’s going on in the interrogation room.”

 

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