Michael Vey: The Prisoner of Cell 25

by Richard Paul Evans

  Taylor looked at him. “I’m sorry. What?”

  He smiled. “Just for fun. No one will know.”

  Taylor swallowed. “I don’t know . . .”

  Hatch’s expression turned serious. “I’m asking you to do something for me, Taylor.”

  Taylor swallowed again. She felt uncomfortable with the request, but after all that Hatch had done for her, she didn’t dare disobey.

  It’s not really that big of a deal, she told herself. After all, hadn’t she done the same thing at the basketball game? “Okay,” she said hesitantly. “Just tell me when.”

  Hatch’s expression lightened. “I’ll tap you on the sleeve.”

  The applause was even louder when Colby came back onstage but this time, instead of excitement, Taylor felt dread. She took a deep breath. What Hatch had asked her to do was wrong, but what choice did she have?

  Colby sang a few more songs and Hatch just watched quietly, smiling and even clapping. Every now and then he looked over at Taylor. Taylor began to hope that maybe he had forgotten or changed his mind. He didn’t. Colby was in the middle of Taylor’s favorite song, “Love My Love,” when Hatch tapped Taylor’s arm. Taylor looked at the singer.

  “Now,” Hatch said firmly.

  “Yes, sir.” Taylor cocked her head. It was a fast song and Colby’s voice suddenly screeched, then stopped in the middle of the chorus, as if she’d forgotten what song she’d been singing. For a few seconds she just looked around, unsure of where she was, while the band kept on playing. Then she grabbed the microphone and started singing, starting again with the first verse. At the end of the song there was a strange hesitancy in the arena, followed by the usual thunderous applause.

  “Wow,” Colby Cross said into the microphone. “Never had that happen before. I just kind of blacked out. Early onset Alzheimer’s, huh?”

  “That’s okay Colby! We love you!” a boy shouted from a few rows back. Colby laughed at herself and the crowd applauded again.

  Taylor looked over at Hatch. He was smiling and nodding approvingly. “Well done,” he said. “Well done.”

  Taylor sat quietly for the rest of the concert, even when everyone stood for an encore. She felt sad. She had betrayed someone she admired.

  After the concert, they returned to the limos. Dr. Hatch switched cars, presumably to talk to Zeus, so Taylor, Tara, Bryan, Kylee, and Nichelle sat in the back, Bryan switching places with Dr. Hatch.

  Taylor desperately wanted to talk to Tara but didn’t want to talk in front of the others, so she was silent the whole way home, even when Bryan and Kylee got in a brief argument about who was a better singer, Colby Cross or Danica Ross, and they asked her for her opinion. “They’re both good,” she finally said.

  “Yeah?” said Kylee. “At least Danica doesn’t forget the words to her own songs.”

  The comment made Taylor’s stomach hurt. She was glad when Nichelle threatened to silence both of them if they didn’t shut up.

  That night, as Taylor was getting ready for bed, Tara walked into her bedroom. Tara was already in her silk pajamas.

  “So, what’s up?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you always get depressed after seeing your favorite singer?”

  “No.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  Taylor sat down on her bed, her hands clasped between her legs.

  “Do you know when Colby was singing “Love My Love” and suddenly stopped singing?”

  Tara smiled. “That was you?”

  She nodded. “Dr. Hatch made me do it.”

  Tara looked at her. “Is that all?”

  “Is that all? I embarrassed her in front of thousands of people.”

  Tara shook her head. “C’mon, she’s a celebrity. They paid her a million dollars to sing for three hours, I think she’ll get over it. And besides, no one cared. You heard that guy yell from the crowd—they loved it. It made her seem more human.”

  Taylor sighed. “I guess you’re right.”

  “Dr. Hatch was just seeing you in action. Think of it as a cheerleading tryout. And you passed.”

  “Does he do that often?”

  “What?”

  “Test you.”

  “No. Just now and then to make sure you’re on board.”

  “What if you’re not?”

  Tara’s expression changed. “You know, you can make this good or bad, it’s up to you. It’s about attitude.”

  “No, it’s about hurting someone else.”

  “Dr. Hatch doesn’t hurt people just to hurt people. You saw how mad he was at Zeus for shocking that guy. Dr. Hatch is just . . . careful.”

  “Does he ask you to do things?”

  “Yeah. I mean, not much lately. More earlier.”

  “And it never bothered you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Really? Never?”

  She looked suddenly pained. “Once. But you get over it. At first you might hate it but before you know it, you’ll volunteer to do it.”

  She forced a smile. “Why do you care? We’re better than them.”

  “Them?”

  “You know, people.”

  Taylor looked at her. “We’re people. My parents are people.”

  “Taylor, they’re not your parents. And we’re not people. We’re special.”

  “Maybe you are, but I’m just a cheerleader.”

  “I know it’s hard being different, but it’s like the story Dr. Hatch tells us about the chickens and the eagle.”

  “What story?”

  Tara’s face animated. “Oh, you’re going to like this. It goes like this: A farmer once found an abandoned eagle’s nest with an egg inside. Out of curiosity he took the egg home and put it under one of his chickens. The chicken hatched the egg and took care of the eagle like it was just another chick. As the eagle grew it walked around the coop with the chickens, pecking at the ground the way chickens do.

  “One day a wise man saw the eagle in the coop. ‘How do you keep the eagle from flying away?’ he asked the farmer. The farmer said, ‘It’s easy, because the eagle thinks he’s a chicken.’

  “The wise man said, ‘But it’s not. And it’s wrong to keep it in this coop. Eagles are majestic birds and destined to fly.’ The farmer said,

  ‘Not this one. He’s sure he’s a chicken.’ The wise man said, ‘No, once an eagle always an eagle.’

  “He then went out to the henhouse, picked up the eagle, and threw him in the air. ‘Fly, eagle!’ he said. But the eagle just fell to the ground. He tried it again, throwing the eagle higher. ‘Fly, eagle!’ but the eagle just fell again and went back to pecking in the dirt.

  “Then the wise man carried the eagle to the top of the henhouse and pointed the eagle toward the sun. ‘You are not a chicken, you’re an eagle. You were meant to soar high above the chickens. Now fly!’

  and he threw the eagle up into the air. Suddenly the eagle stretched out its wings and took off into the sky.”

  Tara looked into Taylor’s eyes. “You, me, all of us electric children are those eagles. Dr. Hatch is the wise man. If you just want to keep on pecking through life with the chickens, it’s up to you, sis. So what will it be, eagle or chicken?”

  “But I like the chickens,” Taylor said.

  Tara grinned. “Come on.”

  Taylor sighed. “Of course I want to be an eagle.”

  “Good. Then stop worrying so much about the chickens. They don’t matter. Eagles eat chickens. It’s not because eagles are bad, it’s just how they’re made.” Tara stood, then kissed Taylor on the top of her head. “Have a good night.”

  “You too.”

  “Light off?” Tara asked.

  “Sure.”

  Tara switched off the light and closed the door. Taylor lay back looking at the ceiling. “I miss the chicken coop,” she said softly.

  She wanted to talk to someone who would understand. She wanted to see Michael. She wondered when she would see him again.

&
nbsp; Chapter Thirty-One

  The Road

  Ostin sat in the backseat of the Camaro, pressed up against the side, reading a book. I could tell he was still mad that I hadn’t told him about Wade. For the most part Wade kept his distance, listening to his iPod and playing his DS.

  A couple of hours into the drive Wade asked, “What are you reading?”

  “A book. Ever seen one?”

  “Ever seen a fist?”

  “Knock it off,” Jack said.

  “Porky,” Wade said. “Oink, oink.”

  “Stop it,” Ostin said.

  “Never seen a hog read before. Are you gonna eat the book when you’re done?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Oink, oink.”

  “Hey, Wade,” Jack said. “Ever wonder what a thousand volts would feel like on your tongue?”

  His grin disappeared. “No.”

  “Then keep your mouth shut.”

  He sat back and put his earbuds back in. I looked in the rearview mirror. Ostin looked pretty miserable. I felt bad for him. For his sake, I wished he hadn’t come.

  I turned to Jack. “Thanks.”

  “Sorry about that.” A few minutes later Jack asked, “You an only child?”

  “Yeah. How about you?”

  “I’ve got two older brothers and a sister.”

  “Are you the oldest?”

  “No, I’m the youngest. I’m the only one still at home. One of my brothers is in Iraq. He’s a Marine.” He said this with obvious pride.

  “That’s cool.”

  “Yeah, he’s really cool. He even got a medal for bravery.”

  “How about your other brother?”

  His smile fell. “He’s in prison.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond. I didn’t know anyone in prison. I wanted to ask what he’d done but it didn’t feel right. I didn’t have to.

  “He got really messed up on drugs. He and a guy were stealing snowmobiles to get money for drugs when the owner came out. The guy with him had a gun and he shot the man. My brother didn’t even know that he had a gun, but the way the laws are, he’s also guilty. So he’ll be in prison a long time.”

  “Do you see him very much?”

  “Nah, he’s in Colorado. I only see him once a year.” His voice lifted. “My sister’s doing real well, though. She married a guy who owns a chain of tanning salons. They have a real nice home and two little kids.”

  “Do you see much of her?”

  “Nah, she doesn’t have much to do with the family. She got married young to get away. That’s because my folks used to fight a lot before my mother left.”

  I now understood why Jack locked kids in lockers. I’d probably be doing the same if I came from a home like his.

  “What about you? What happened to your dad?”

  “He had a heart attack.”

  “Was he old?”

  “No. My mom said he had a ‘bad ticker.’”

  “That’s too bad.”

  I looked back. Wade’s eyes were closed and he was still wearing his earbuds. I wasn’t sure if he was sleeping or just listening to music, but I figured that either way he couldn’t hear me.

  “What’s Wade’s story?”

  “Not good. His parents were alcoholics. His old man used to beat the tar out of him until the state took him away. He lived with foster parents until they put him with his grandma, but she don’t really want him. She’s not shy about telling him, either. You’d think an old lady would be nicer, but that prune could strip the bark from trees with her tongue. So he just hangs with me most the time. I’m kind of like his only family.”

  “He’s lucky to have you,” I said.

  Jack looked at me with a peculiar expression. “Thanks, dude.”

  Then he looked back to the road. I swear his eyes were moistening. I turned away so I wouldn’t embarrass him.

  It took us four hours to reach Winnemucca, Nevada. We stopped at a gas station to fill the Camaro’s radiator with water, then we ate dinner at Chihuahua’s Fiesta Restaurant. I got a burrito, Jack and Wade got two, and Ostin got the taco platter. We ate quickly, then got back on the road.

  “So how do you do it?” Jack asked me.

  “Do what?”

  “Shock people.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s like asking how you sneeze. It just happens.”

  “But you can control it . . .”

  “Yeah. Usually.”

  “Why didn’t you shock us when we shoved you in the locker the first time?”

  “Because I’m not supposed to use the power. My mother didn’t want anyone to find out. She was afraid something might happen.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like what did. That’s why they took her.”

  “I didn’t tell anyone,” Jack said.

  “I know. It wasn’t you.”

  “So you know who took her?”

  “Some corporation.”

  “This is like a James Bond movie,” Jack said. “What are you going to do when you get there?”

  “I’m going to find my mother.”

  “Hate to say it, but even if she’s there, it’s not like they’re going to just let you in. If they kidnapped her she’s going to be guarded.”

  “I know. I’m making this up as I go.”

  “I get it,” Jack said. He took a drink from his Red Bull and looked back at his watch. “We’ve got another ten hours. If we drive through the night we’ll be there by morning.”

  “Then let’s drive through the night.”

  “I need to pick up some more Red Bulls.” He reached in back and thumped Wade on the head, waking him.

  He pulled his earbuds out. “What?!”

  “Get some sleep. You’re driving from Bishop to Pasadena.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Another Simple Request

  That night Taylor had a dream. She was down on a football field cheering while her parents were in the stands looking for her. She kept shouting, “I’m down here!” But they couldn’t hear her for all the noise. She woke crying.

  A half hour later someone knocked on her door. One of the servants, a young, dark-headed woman who spoke broken English, handed her an envelope.

  “Excuse me I bother you,” she said. “Bless you.”

  Taylor opened the envelope.

  Family Meeting

  Library. 9:00 a.m. sharp. Attendance mandatory.

  Be dressed casually, we will be leaving the academy.

  —Dr. Hatch

  Now what? she thought.

  Taylor got dressed, then crossed the hall to find Tara but her twin had already left her room. She didn’t know where the library was but saw Quentin waiting for the elevator.

  “Hey, Quentin.”

  He turned, his usual smile on his face. “Hey, Tara.”

  “I’m Taylor.”

  He stopped and looked at her. “Of course you are. Sorry. I’ll figure it out eventually.” He put his hand on her back. “Do you have any birthmarks or anything I should look for?”

  “Afraid not.”

  “It shouldn’t be too hard. You’re prettier than she is.”

  Taylor rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. We’re identical.”

  They stepped into the elevator and Quentin pushed the button for the first floor.

  “No, there’s something different about you. I swear it.”

  Taylor ignored the comment. “Are we going to the library?”

  “Yes. Just follow me.”

  A few seconds later the elevator door opened.

  “After you,” Quentin said.

  “Thank you.” Taylor stepped out into the hall, followed by Quentin.

  “Do we have family meetings a lot?”

  “No. Just on special occasions.”

  “So, do you know what it’s about?”

  “Yes. But I can’t tell you. Doctor’s orders.” He grinned. “But you’ll be glad you went.”

  They arrived at an open door an
d walked in together. “If you want, let’s hang out today,” Quentin said. “And by the way, you can call me Q. It’s easier.”

  “Thanks, Q.”

  He laughed. “Sounds funny when you say it like that. Talk to you later.”

  Tara was already inside the library. She was standing next to Dr.

  Hatch and they both looked at Taylor as she entered. Taylor was sure they had been talking about her.

  Bryan was the last to arrive, his hair sticking up on the side of his head as if he’d just rolled out of bed. Tara left Hatch’s side and sat down next to Taylor. “Morning, sis.”

  “Morning.”

  “Good morning, everyone,” Dr. Hatch said.

  “Good morning, Dr. Hatch,” they said in unison.

  “I have an announcement.” He turned to Taylor. “Taylor, since all of you were born around the same time, having individual birthday parties got to be a little ridiculous. So we started having one large family celebration instead. Sometimes we have great activities here at the academy and sometimes we travel to other places.”

  “Yeah, deep sea fishing off Costa Rica, man,” Bryan said.

  “My favorite was riding bikes through Tuscany,” Quentin said.

  “That was cool,” Tara said to Taylor. “That was last year.”

  Hatch smiled. “We’ve had some good times. I was thinking that since Taylor missed the family party, well, since she’s missed the last fourteen, it’s only fair that we have one especially for her.”

  Everyone cheered, except Nichelle, who never looked happy.

  Hatch reached into his coat pocket and brought out an envelope. “So this morning we are going to the Long Beach Arena for the X Games Motocross finals.”

  Bryan jumped up and high-fived Quentin.

  “Oh yeah, oh yeah.”

  Zeus sat quietly in his seat, looking angry. Taylor guessed he had been grounded from the activity.

  Hatch added, “And of course, we have VIP seating. We’re so close to the action you can smell the fear.”

  “All right,” Bryan yelled. “Smell the fear, this is going to rock!”

  There was a chorus of thank-yous, which Taylor joined. “Thank you, Dr. Hatch.”

  Hatch smiled at Taylor. “Nothing’s too good for family,” he said.