When I saw blue and red lights spiraling on the side of the road up ahead, I gripped the steering wheel. The police officer was on the other side of the divided highway and had pulled over a solitary car. Still, I held my breath as I passed the cop, and my chest remained tight for another ten miles beyond, wondering if pictures of my face and my truck were posted all over the news and internet yet.
I would get to Sage and Finn.
I would get her to trust me again—which would be the real miracle, because I remembered how long it took to gain her trust the first time. It was hard for her to let people in. Plus, she considered me one of her closest friends, and that worked against me now. She’d feel more betrayed than ever. So I started praying—to a God I never talked to—that I’d get to Sage and Finn alive, and that Sage would believe the truth so we could face the rest together.
8
SAGE
From inside the small room, I watched Jack step out into the hallway. Sunshine flooded the corridor from high windows, bouncing off the polished concrete floor. Jack’s fatigues fit sharply over his muscled body, his dark hair cut short. He turned and glanced back at me, and the sunlight solidified the pure symmetry of his face. He possessed just the right amount of straight and curved lines, a well-shaped nose, and a masculine jawbone that rounded out his features. But it was his eyes that had shocked me back in the room. The perfect distance apart, the irises a brilliant sky blue. The color itself seemed alive. I’d never seen the shade on anyone before, ever. Jack had a face people stopped in the street for—that girls snapped pictures of to show their friends later.
And he was immune to the darts. So what else was he capable of?
I was scared. Scared for Finn, scared about what Dr. Adamson had said to me, scared about what it meant that my dad was actually alive. Jack said that he and a friend were leaving in two days, but I didn’t trust him. He was Dr. Adamson’s son, after all.
But there was also this pull … like a magnetic draw, something that didn’t start or end at any one spot, besides emanating from the general vicinity of Jack himself. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt it immediately after he stepped into the room. The draw, the force, it fought against the rational side of me which said to be completely terrified of him.
I followed Jack out into the hallway, the sunlight hitting my face, making me squint after the darkness of the room. Jack turned left and started walking without looking at me again.
The windows ran the length of the hall, the end of which I couldn’t see. I stayed a few steps behind him as we passed metal door after metal door, their methodic spacing interrupted only by intersecting hallways.
Jack moved like he knew something others didn’t, with long strides and a swagger to his gait. His shirt clung to his upper torso, the material pulled taut across muscular shoulders. A walkie-talkie was clipped to his belt just above solid glutes. The strange sensation—the pull toward him—remained.
A voice from the walkie-talkie cut into the silence of the hall and made me jump.
“Base to Adamson,” spoke the voice.
Still walking, Jack pulled the walkie-talkie from his belt. “Go ahead.” His voice rolled out gravelly, intense.
“Where’s the girl?” came a voice over the device.
Jack pressed the button down. “Be there in two.”
“Clear,” the voice replied.
Jack tucked the walkie-talkie back on his belt, not bothering to say anything to me.
I tracked our distance, locking in the hallway layout in my head. We traipsed another thirty yards, turned a corner, and more of the same corridor stretched out in front of us, more of the high, rectangular windows.
“It was my application wasn’t it?” I spoke to hide my nerves. “To that Astronomy Camp at Penn State? That’s what led you to us. That’s how you found us, isn’t it?” Beckett’s words came to me then, what he’d said up in the barn loft about the camp: Did you ever think there might be other reasons your mom wants you to stick around?
Other reasons, which were now quite obvious. Did that mean Beckett knew something about the reasons? Why would he have said that? Was it coincidence? Was that just him hypothesizing that perhaps there was more to my mom’s craziness than we knew about? I hadn’t thought about the possibilities behind his words until just now.
“No,” Jack said, “my dad has known where you were hiding for the last four years.”
“Then why come now? Why not then?”
“He didn’t know all the recruits were going to be sterile back then. Not all of them had reached puberty yet.” Jack stopped at a door. And even though I had no clue what he was talking about, I didn’t ask more, and Jack didn’t offer.
A bright red EXIT sign shone above our heads. He rested his hand on the metal bar that ran across the door and leaned in to push it open, but then he paused, and for the first time since leaving the room, he looked at me. His sky-blue eyes revealed nothing. We stood close enough that I could smell him again—just like I had when he’d released my wrists. The scent of cedar and crisp air.
Jack swallowed, his neck was muscular and thick, but I could still see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.
“When we go out here,” he nodded toward the door, “stay calm and speak as little as possible. My dad enjoys pain. Do not show it on your face. I don’t yet know his full intentions with you on the island, but I assume the next hour won’t be pretty.” He paused, and in a stiff voice added, “I apologize in advance for my actions.”
With that, he pressed open the door. Raw, unfiltered sunlight flooded my vision.
9
SAGE
Humidity washed over me as I stepped onto an expansive wood deck. Jack strode forward, and I followed him down a flight of stairs until the final step released us onto smooth white sand. Gentle blue-green waves rolled in a hundred yards away. The late afternoon sun sat in the sky behind us, casting rays that glistened off the ocean. A small boat danced on the water, maybe two hundred yards off shore.
My eyes scanned from one end of the beach to the other, all the way to where the fence lined the perimeter and met the trees.
“Where are those people in black?” I said. The question bubbled up out of me before I had time to check it. Back in the room, I’d made a decision to monitor every word I spoke from here on out.
“The recruits,” Jack replied, seeming indifferent about the question. “They’re gone. Up at the arena now.”
I felt Jack stiffen and followed his gaze down the beach. Dr. Adamson stood twenty yards away, alone near the shore.
A sharp warning pang shot through me. “Where’s Finn?” I said, stumbling in the sand as I jogged up a little in front of Jack so I could get a better look at his face.
“I don’t know,” he said. He moved around me and kept walking.
“But your dad said he would be here. He said I would see him. Why isn’t he here?” I tagged behind him.
Jack spoke through gritted teeth, although I couldn’t distinguish if it was in annoyance at me or irritation at his father. “I don’t know.”
“Well call someone and find out.” I reached to yank out the radio from the back of Jack’s belt, but he spun, and his hand caught my wrist before my fingers even brushed the base of the walkie-talkie.
Anger burned in his eyes as he tossed my arm back at me. He glanced down the beach. “If my father saw what you did, he’d expect me to punch you in the face.”
“Then do it.” I pursed my lips together, meeting his eyes with the challenge. “Do it. I don’t care. Just find out where my brother is.”
Jack inhaled and started walking again. I didn’t move, my feet planted firmly in the sand.
“Call someone now, or I’m not going a step further.”
Jack stalked back toward me and leaned in, inches from my face. “If I make a call, then the doctor gets suspicious about why I care. If he finds out my plans, then we don’t leave, and your brother is as good as dead anyway.” Something flicker
ed across Jack’s eyes, like he realized how the last part sounded and perhaps regretted saying it. But then he added, “Do not make me drag you down this beach.”
I forced myself not to blink until Jack turned and strode away.
Unwillingly, I jogged to catch up.
Dr. Adamson studied us as we approached. His lab coat was gone, and he donned a button down shirt and khaki pants.
“To the boat and back,” he said to me, watching Jack after he said the words. “If you don’t touch the side,” the doctor continued, “it doesn’t count, and you’ll be doing it all over again.”
I eyed the boat. It was far, but not so far to make me believe I couldn’t make it there and back. I wasn’t afraid of water, we just didn’t have a lot of it in Kansas, so I’d never considered honing my skills. Beckett and I had gone to Marion Lake just a few times. The lake was an hour away, and we never had much time for jaunts away from the farm. Other than that, my exposure had been limited to swimming lessons and infrequent childhood visits to the city pool. But I could swim.
“Fine,” I said, “I’ll swim. If you take me to my brother.”
Dr. Adamson didn’t act surprised by the request. “One thing at a time,” he said. Then he pointed at something pale pink that sat near the water’s edge. “That ten-pound weight over there—put it on. You’ll be wearing it while you swim.”
My eyes flickered from the weight to Jack. He maintained eye contact with me but stayed silent. His face remained a blank, hard wall—showing nothing, just like he’d told me to do before we came outside.
“You do this, then we’ll talk about your brother,” the doctor said.
For a moment, the doctor and I only stared at each other. I don’t know what I hoped to see in his eyes. Of course, it could all be one giant lie. Should I play the game and see where it gets me? Or stand up to him now? Jack’s earlier words about his father enjoying pain had me weighing my options. Best not to push things until I got to Finn. After that, I’d work the angles whatever way we needed.
I followed the instructions without saying a word, strapping on the weight around my waist and stepping into the water while they watched. I didn’t look back as the cool waves rose up to my shins, then torso, then neck. I sucked in a breath. My black tights and shirt clung to my skin.
At first, for the initial ten yards, my fear lay in what creatures may be swimming below me. But the extra ten pounds of weight, which sunk to my hipbones, required more work from my arms and legs than I anticipated. My muscles burned and grew tired. The waves rolled in, sometimes washing over my face. I could only concern myself with making it to the boat where I could rest.
Sixty seconds passed.
Then another, then another, and another. Inside the boat, two guards watched me coming. The boat had a small mast, but the sail was not up. A black strip ran down the side with white writing in a bold font: VASTERIAS INTERNATIONAL.
Behind the cry of my muscles, I thought about a different day, maybe tomorrow, when Finn was here swimming with me. We would overtake the two guards, climb aboard, and sail away. I had no clue how to sail, but somehow the idea still sounded promising. Which meant I was desperate. Or insane. Or both.
I kept my eyes trained on the white boat, and those words—VASTERIAS INTERNATIONAL. The letters grew closer with each pull of my arms, with each kick of my legs. I refused to let the panic creep into me from the vastness of the ocean and the immensity of water and sea creatures it carried, so different from our pond back home that the cows flocked to on hot days.
My body grew heavier, felt heavier. Four more minutes passed. After six minutes, I was just over halfway to the sailboat. A wave rolled by, and the salt water again came high enough to cover my face. My composure started to crumble.
VASTERIAS INTERNATIONAL. Just watch the sign, Sage. Get to the sign.
I focused on making those two words grow bigger.
Just make it to the boat.
Finally, I was near enough for eye contact with one of the guards.
“Hurry up,” he shouted.
I was too fatigued to respond. I needed every last breath of air to help move me forward in the water.
VASTERIAS INTERNATIONAL was right in front of me now, the words nearly close enough to touch. I reached out, planning to grab for the side and rest for as long as they’d let me, but after my hand grazed the black paint, the motor roared to life.
The boat circled around my right side, leaving me in a wake of white foam and waves. I choked as they washed over my face. My body struggled to regroup, trying to reorient to the direction of shore.
My arms and legs tried to start swimming again, but they hardly moved me forward.
All the energy I had left fought against the downward pull of the weight.
Jack stood on the beach next to Dr. Adamson. Anger coursed through me. So this was the plan all along then? To watch me drown? What was the point of bringing me all the way here? As if in answer, another wave of ocean water hit me squarely in the back and rolled over my head.
I sputtered and coughed, struggling to remove the weight around my waist. The clasp was in the back, and if I stopped paddling my arms for longer than a few seconds, I started sinking fast. If I sunk very far, I didn’t think I’d make it back above water.
The boat reached shore. The guards climbed out and pulled the boat onto the sand. Jack and Dr. Adamson looked tiny now. So far away.
Unreachable.
My head really sunk this time, my body dropping well below the surface, my fatigued muscles giving out. Through my exhaustion, I saw Finn’s face, and it jolted me to my senses. I couldn’t leave him here alone.
When my face broke free of the surface and I felt air again, panic consumed me. I tried to cry out, but my throat was hoarse from the saltwater. Before this moment, I realized I hadn’t actually thought they would let me die, but now I knew they would. I would die, right here, right now.
I was going to drown.
On the shore, Jack stood statuesque next to his father. I should have known he was full of lies. No one intended to come in and save me. My eyes pleaded with Jack across the water.
Don’t let me drown. Please. Finn needs me.
Dr. Adamson turned to Jack. Jack didn’t look away from me.
Help me. I thought. Please. Help me.
Then my head dipped under again.
10
JACK
Sage’s head bobbed below the surface of the water yet again. Beckett always told me I had an unreasonable sense of responsibility for the life of every human within five miles of me, but watching Sage in the water was worse than anything I’d experienced. It was like slitting my wrists, one small cut at a time. A panic set in, so outside my normal range of emotions that the feeling jolted me. The lack of air moving into my chest made it feel like I was drowning with her, even though I stood there on shore, an unflinching, useless ass.
How long could I go before I broke my own rules and went to her, even without my dad’s permission? At what point would I give it all away?
I would do it if I had to, but I needed to use my brains and come up with a better way so all my best-laid plans didn’t go to rot. Besides, I had a sinking suspicion this was as much a test for me and my loyalties as it was for Sage and her secrets. My dad, the bastard, wanted to see if I would break.
Think, you idiot. She’s drowning.
I spoke in an even voice, playing the game. “Will it be useful to have her dead so soon?”
My dad seemed to contemplate as he watched Sage’s head bob below water for longer intervals of time.
After another twenty seconds and sounding disappointed, he said, “Fine. Go get her. Once you get her back to shore, ask her if she’s ready to tell us anything. Then bring her up to the arena to see the recruits before dinner.”
I nodded once, stiffly, unable to concentrate on anything besides Sage.
In that moment, as my father walked away, I had to work harder to control myself than I had in
my entire life. I strained against the desire to dive directly into the ocean. Instead, I took myself through the torturous, nonchalant removal of my boots, the stripping of my fatigues into the black tights and shirt below. I strode into the water, all the while watching Sage’s head bob below the surface of the water and wondering if it was the last time she’d come back up.
When the water hit my waist, I cast a glance back at my dad. He already walked up the beach, heading toward the side of the building. That was all I needed.
I wasted no more time. I sprung into my full capabilities, the bottled-up energy bursting into every muscle fiber as I dove under the water. I felt the adrenaline coursing through my muscles as I pulled one arm out in front of me, then the other. My legs pumped hard, and the water rushed over my skin as I cut a solid line through it straight to Sage.
On the rare occasions, when I gave everything I had like this, the energy was uncontainable. I felt it shooting through all parts of me, like an electric force, a separate, singular power all its own.
I reached her in less than twenty seconds, without coming up for air, though she’d been a full sixty yards out.
She was sinking. I ripped the weight off her waist and grabbed her by the arm, the salt-water burning my eyes as I pushed to the surface. I rested Sage on my back, wrapped her arms around my neck, held them with one hand, and began to swim to shore with the other. Her head hung lifeless to the side and required extra care to keep above water. It took me longer than before, and required more leg power, but within forty-five seconds, I was back to the beach, dragging her out of the water and onto the sand.
I knew I’d just swam faster than last year’s Olympic gold medal winner in the 50 m freestyle. It didn’t matter. If Sage and her brother died, I was screwed anyway. They were my key to getting the code, the final option I had left.
My eyes refused to linger on the hint of blue that was just beginning to show on her face. I forced myself not to focus on her limp body, on the lifeless splay of her arms. I pressed my palms to her sternum. After four compressions against her chest, Sage started coughing up water and rolled to her side—sooner and more easily than I expected. I sat back onto my heels, masking the relief that washed through me, wiping salt-water from my eyes.
The Mod Code Page 5