by Jes Drew
Oto and I step in and slide the door shut.
“We’re in,” I whisper into the comms. “What now?”
“You wait. I need to focus on Alpha team now. Their hallways are much busier than the ones you were in.”
“Got it.” I lean back against the wall. I just hope Joseph will be able to work through this and get Christopher and Ata to join us soon.
~~~
“It’s been too long,” Oto says several minutes later. “Something’s not right.”
I nod. Oto hasn’t even heard the desperate directions that Joseph has been giving Alpha team.
“Turn around, Alpha team,” Joseph says suddenly. “Everyone’s leaving their offices for their lunch breaks. It’s too late now. Turn back.”
I suck in my breath.
“What about Beta team?” Christopher asks, the first time I've heard him over comms. To my shame, my heart patters at the sound of his voice.
“Beta team has to stay in position. It’s not safe for them to move yet. Copy that, Beta Team? Stay in position.”
“But-” Christopher begins.
“It’s okay, Christopher,” Joseph assures. “Beta team can take care of themselves.”
“This is Emily we’re talking about.”
I purse my lips.
“Oto can take care of himself,” Joseph amends.
“How comforting,” Christopher mutters sarcastically.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Alpha team is turning back,” Joseph answers. “They’re going to wait in a deserted room in floor three. It’s too risky and too late. Beta team, you are to proceed according to plan. Also, get ready- it’s about time.”
“Roger.” I turn to Oto and hold a finger to my lips.
Oto nods. Apparently, the hush finger is universal.
A moment later, I hear a door open and several people walk into the room. I want to ask Joseph who they are, but I don’t risk it.
As if reading my thoughts, Joseph says, “The three Masters are here. They have five guests and five security guards.”
My heart sinks. Five security guards? I was expecting three tops.
“One guest is Mr. Williams,” Joseph adds. “The other four look like your family.”
My heart begins to pound in both anticipation and dread. Due to its new lower position, its pounding is stirring up butterflies in my stomach.
Joseph mutters angrily. “Sorry, but it’s too risky. You can’t take down five, possibly eight, armed men. Just stay where you are. Even if your parents could help you take down the Masters like we hoped, you’re still outnumbered.”
What? No! We’re so close. They’re right there!
My eyes begin to tear up.
Oto gives me a curious look.
I shake my head.
He frowns and then opens his arms. I walk into them.
While Oto is still wordlessly comforting me, the closet door suddenly swings open, revealing a smug security guard. He grabs us both by our hoodies and drags us out.
Like Joseph had said, the three Masters are sitting around a table along with four other security guards, Mr. Williams, my parents, Uncle Gerald, and Aunt Donna.
“Emily?” Mom whispers.
Dad silences her with a Look. But it’s no use. The Masters already know it’s us.
“I’m so glad you could join us,” the tallest and probably oldest brother (Clovis?) says with fake courtesy.
The shortest and probably youngest brother completely ignores us.
The second tallest and second oldest brother- Rudolf- doesn’t even bother pretending either pleasure or indifference. He gets up, strides across the room, and slaps Oto across the face.
“Don’t touch him!” I cry.
“Or what?” Rudolf Masters demands, turning his glaring eyes to me. “You’ll aim another gun at me?”
“Don’t bother reasoning with him,” Oto tells me. “He gets too much enjoyment from tormenting defenseless individuals.”
Rudolf Masters’ eyes flash with pure hatred and he slaps Oto again.
Oto glares back at him. “See?”
Rudolf Master raises his hand again, but his older brother catches it. “Come now, Rudolf. We have more important things to attend to than assaulting our guests.” Then he turns to me. “Tell me, Miss Rogers, where are the rest of your friends?”
I don’t answer. I just glare at him, scared and sad and angry and- worst of all- helpless all at the same time.
“Emily,” Joseph says into my ears, “I’m going to turn on the sprinklers. Get ready to run.”
“Answer me,” Clovis Masters demands, the veneer of patience beginning to crack.
Suddenly, water starts pouring down.
I quickly drop down, out of my hoodie, and run towards the door. Oto follows my lead.
Once outside the room, I look back. None of our parents are following; they’re blocking the others from following us the best they can.
Uncle Gerald catches me loitering. “Run!”
My heart freezes over. They aren’t coming with us. They can’t.
Oto grabs me by the arm and drags me down the hall.
“Let me go!” I cry.
“It’s too late,” Oto says. “If we go back now, we’ll be recaptured. At least this way there’s still a chance that we can rescue them another time.”
I stop fighting and allow Oto to lead me down the hallways, past panicking people. We meet Christopher and Ata on the second floor.
“Are you all right?” Christopher asks, reaching for me before pulling back.
I’m cold, wet, and parent-less- do I look like I’m all right? I want to snap, but I don’t have the energy. So instead I just shiver.
“Shoot him and you die.”
Or, you know, not. So much for being dangerous or PTSD-free.
“Come on,” Christopher says, taking my arm. “We have to go now.”
We merge into the mob of people fleeing the building until we’re safe outside. Then we break away and hurry to the parking lot. Grandmother is waiting for us in the escape car.
Numbly, I climb in.
“Don’t touch him!”
“We’re almost safe,” Joseph assures us.
Huh. Joseph’s here too. How nice.
Out of the corner of my eye I notice Oto pointing to me. Then Christopher unzips his hoodie and wraps it around my shoulders.
I pull it closer and then pull my legs up and hug them as Grandmother speeds us away. Without Mom and Dad. Without Uncle Gerald and Aunt Donna. Without Mr. Williams.
And without the power to do anything about it.
~~~
At the city limits, we stop for lunch and Christopher swaps seats with Grandmother.
“Where do we go now?” I ask as I stare down at the sandwich I didn't want. Because I also don’t want to be the leader. I just want someone to tell me what to do so that I can numbly obey.
Christopher and Ata exchange a Look.
“They’ll be taking our parents to Geneva, Switzerland tomorrow afternoon to catch a train,” Christopher says. “That’s where we have to go.”
Startled, I look up from my sandwich. “How do you know? I mean, about them going to Switzerland.”
“Ata and I found a room with all kinds of files like that while we were waiting for you and Oto. We also found out the purpose of that lunch meeting with our parents. They were going to discuss how to contact us and make a deal with us.”
“What kind of deal would they have made?”
Christopher's eyes meet mine, and I'm struck by the intensity of the blue in them. “That we return to the Island and make a public apology.”
“And that Oto and I return permanently,” Ata adds. “Probably for execution. Again.”
How wrong is it that a girl my age has to talk about people wanting to execute her? “What do you think would happen if they eventually just caught us- no negotiations on the table?”
Christopher shrugs. “Well, we’re al
ready considered missing persons. It would be all too easy to take us to the Island permanently as well. Our families too, since they would know too much.”
I lick my lips. “Surely the Masters aren’t that bad.”
“They value secrecy and sovereignty above all other things,” Ata says. “And we pose a danger to both of them.”
My heart drops- that seems to be all it can do lately. “Okay, so do you think we’ll be able to drive to Switzerland by tomorrow?”
“Maybe,” Christopher begins. “If we limit the stops. But we would need to start right now.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
That’s that I always seem to be doing lately: going. Going places. Going on the best I can. Going crazy.
~~~
The car coughs for the millionth time, shaking us passengers.
“I don’t think she’s going to be able to get us out of France, let alone to Geneva,” Joseph mutters.
As if his words gave her permission to do so, old Bessie promptly coughs again and then dies.
We all climb out.
Christopher goes to the hood of the car and pulls it open, causing billows of smoke to escape. But not before I can see a part of Christopher's shirt pulls up, revealing that bottle I thought I saw during our second Holly run-in in his front pocket.
Before I can be sure, the smoke gets in the way, and when it moves away, it's gone again.
Why am I imagining this?
And if I'm not imagining this, when did Christopher become an addict or whatever?
Joseph joins Christopher by the engine and peers in before frowning and shaking his head. “We can't fix this.
Christopher throws the hood back down and reaches into his pocket. “That’s the last time I’m renting a French car.”
He walks a little away and starts saying intelligible things to the phone. What is he calling for? A mechanic?
I begin to pace. No, no, no- we don't have time for this!
A mechanic does, in fact, arrive. Christopher approaches him immediately and addresses him in… French?
The mechanic pops the hood, causing a ton of smoke to billow out before coughing and shaking his head.
Christopher groans and rakes his hand through his hair as he leans against the stupid car.
The mechanic offers something in French, and Christopher shakes his head, mumbling, “No more French rentals.”
Stubborn man.
Joseph looks up from his laptop. “There’s both an international airport and a hotel nearby.”
“Fine, we’ll do that.” Christopher grabs our stuff and starts walking.
The mechanic calls after him.
Christopher gestures the protests away before handing him the business card of the company we rented them. He continues marching away at a very determined pace.
I hurry to catch up to Christopher. “Do you mean we’re going to take a plane?”
“Yes,” he answers.
Oh, boy.
A previous mental list of all vehicles I wish to avoid:
(1) Motorcycles because they’re deathtraps on wheels;
(2) Roller coasters because they’re deathtraps on rails;
(3) Taxis because of bad memories and the fact that all taxi drivers are maniacs;
(4) Boats because of really bad memories;
(5) Planes because of the Accident;
Chapter Eight
I wake up with cramped neck and a heavy head. Blearily, I look around the dinky hotel room that we girls are staying in. I’ve already memorized every worn-down inch of it during my sleepless night.
Ugh, why do we have to take a plane?
We girls make a mass exodus downstairs to where the boys have already claimed the snack bar.
“I got us the plane tickets,” Christopher announces, looking up..
Grandmother pales.
I grasp her hand and wish that someone would grasp my hand.
We're going to go on that plane whether we like it or not.
Christopher frowns.
“What do you have against planes anyway?” Joseph asks. “They're just another means of transportation.”
I glance at Grandmother, who nods. Then I take a deep breath. “Grandfather died in a plain accident.”
“Oh...”
Christopher puts his hand on my shoulder, and I take it as better than taking my hand. “Look, I’ve been on countless planes and I’m fine. This time will be no different, I assure you, mon colombe.”
I nod, liking him calling me that again enough to ignore the fact that he has the gift of truth-seeing, not future-seeing. I will ride the plane. I have no choice, really. I have to keep moving forward; keep persevering.
Grandmother turns to me. “Are you sure you can do this?”
“Yes.”
She somehow manages to sit up even straighter. “Then so can I.”
“Now we are all set,” Oto says happily, setting down his orange juice. “Except, there’s just one thing…”
Christopher frowns and turns to him. “What?”
“What’s a plane?”
~~~
As I wait for our bags to be checked, I see flash of red out of the corner of my eye. I turn around, but there’s nothing out of the usual drab colors of the airport. Huh, must be my over-sensitive imagination.
A mental list of things my over-sensitive imagination has done to me in the past:
(1) Make toddler me believe that my least favorite teddy bear was giving information of my whereabouts to the monsters under my bed (hence his being my least favorite);
(2) Make me believe that the cat that lived across the street was steeling my outside toys (until I realized that it was just my neighbor);
(3) Make junior high me believe that jumpers were cool;
(4) Make me believe that Rodrigo might have a thing for me;
(4) Make me believe that there's a Holly lurking in every other shadow;
“Did you see something?” Ata asks.
I shake my head. “No.” No Hollys here.
But why do I feel so sure I'm wrong?
~~~
As we wait for the plane to take of, I try to explain how planes work to Oto and Ata, who are sitting in the row in front of me.
“How do engines work?” Oto asks.
I groan. My knowledge of mechanics is spotty at best. And Mary-Ann and Grandmother, my two row buddies, aren’t much help. I turn around to face Joseph and Christopher who, with Chase, take up the row behind me.
“It runs on oil,” Christopher offers as he massages Grandmother’s shoulders.
Joseph nods. “Basic rocket science.”
Oto opens his mouth- probably to ask what oil and rocket science are- but he’s interrupted by the speaker system.
“There are three more seats available on the Geneva flight,” it says in English after saying something in French. “If you're going to Geneva, board now.”
A couple hurries on a moment later, leaving the only the seat next to Oto and Ata available. A minute later, when it seems apparent that no one else is boarding, the speaker announces, “The Geneva flight is closing.”
“Wait!” a girl cries. She scrambles inside, her red hair flying everywhere.
“Holly,” Oto breathes.
Holly scans the plane until she sees us. Then she pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, straightens out her leather jacket, and marches over, a back-pack slung over her shoulder. Then, ignoring Oto’s glares, she puts her back pack into the storage unit above us and takes her seat.
“What are you doing here?” Oto demands, his voice seething with hot ice.
She nods, stretching out before pulling contentedly back in. “Flying to Switzerland.”
“But why? Why do you insist on following me?”
Holly gives him an undecipherable look.
“Why do you insist on making my life miserable?” Oto adds.
“I’m not trying to make your life miserable.” Her voice comes out as a whisper.
>
“So, getting me the death penalty was just an accident?”
“Yes!” Her response is most definitely not a whisper. She sighs and smooths back a curl. “Look, I didn’t realize it was so taboo or even that my mom would tell my step-dad. I especially didn’t realize that he sent me to boarding school so that he could kill you.”
Several people turn their heads and give us funny looks.
I blush and glance away. I'm not with these people...
“Oh, so I almost died because of an accident?” Oto asks. “What does that make you, Holly?” He turns to me.
“Uh… naïve?” I offer.
He nods and turns back to her. “So, you’re naïve and I’m stupid for ever seeing anything in you.”
Holly looks like she’s just been slapped. She begins to unbuckle, but the stewardess hurries over.
“Everyone has to stay seated and buckled,” she says. “The plane’s about to take off.”
Holly glares at her, but obediently stops messing with her seat belt. She doesn’t’ say anything more as the plane takes off.
Grandmother, however, starts praying rather loudly, which doesn’t help in the funny looks department.
Then we're in the air. Oh, goodness, we're in the air.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to pretend I’m somewhere else. An island paradise perhaps?… No, scratch that. Islands will never again be paradises to me.
Suddenly, Holly sighs. “I’m sorry Oto. I really am. I just didn’t realize a kiss would mean so much.”
My eyelids fly open just in time for me to see Oto smile wryly.
“Are you saying our kiss didn’t mean anything to you, Holly?”
She blushes. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I want to help you.”
I lean forward. “Can you convince your step-dad to free my family and leave us alone?”
“Uh… no. He's as stubborn as a mule.”
Sighing, I lean back.
But she turns to face me, eyes bright. “But I do have inside information.”
“Like what?” Mary-Ann asks eagerly.
I glance at her. Since when was she following this conversation? Probably when the word 'kiss' was mentioned…