Adrenaline Rush

by Cindy M. Hogan

  “We welcome our new selections today. They have proved their worth in the Circus of Feats and will not fail us.” He turned to the four of us. “We pledge to give you all the skills necessary to be a valuable asset to the team. You, therefore, pledge your undying loyalty to me and our cause.

  “Please, make the salute, and place your hand over your heart.”

  We did. My stomach churned.

  “Repeat after me, I pledge my faithfulness to Sterling and the cause.”

  We repeated when he paused. A cold sweat hit me.

  “To rid the world of smut, indecision, lawlessness, and greed.”

  My throat caught, hearing my friends say the words. Houston was especially fervent. He seemed to eat this all up. What was up with that?

  “My loyalty will never falter, and my allegiance is to all who help further our cause for justice for this world.”

  We finished and the crowd cheered. I was taking in everything around us, thinking of escape.

  “Can you hear all the voices of those that support you and will protect you at any cost? We are a family and will be fierce about our loyalty to you. You must be fierce about your loyalty to us.” His voice carried a sure warning.

  “Now we will finish the ceremony. Please step down and surround the pit of coals.” He pointed to our left to a large pit filled with glowing red and white coals. We surrounded the pit. I couldn’t help but notice the thick black sticks jutting out from it. They had wooden handles. My eyes followed the shaft into the fire.

  Brands. Cattle brands.

  Sterling pulled one out of the fire and held up the glowing brand into the air. It was one big box tipped so that one corner pointed up. Each corner bore a small triangle. I recognized them as the Greek symbols for the elements. Fire was a triangle with a dot in the middle, the triangle pointing up. Air and water were triangles that pointed down, only air had a horizontal line through it. Earth’s triangle pointed up and had a horizontal line through it.

  “As the final act of your allegiance,” Sterling said, “you will brand each other with the symbols of the elements that you overcame today. You have overcome the world today. Be proud.”

  Frankie inhaled deeply. I felt my knees give ever so slightly. Sterling placed the brand back into the fire, and my stomach knotted realizing how many people surrounded us. All these people supported Sterling? It couldn’t be true. There had to be dissenters.

  The four people who had helped us stepped forward and put their right hands out to us, palms up. On the inside of their upper arm, in the same spot where the doctor had inserted my tracking device, was the brand. Would this hurt the tracking device? Was the device even working? Such a tender area of skin. I could feel the fear emanating from both Frankie and Duncan. This would hurt like crazy.

  I prayed for strength for what I must do. I had to lead. I held out my arm to Frankie. She looked at me and gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. I stared her straight in the eye and nodded several times. I looked at the brands in the fire and nodded again. Slowly, she grabbed one. Fear coursed through me.

  I said, “Do it quick, but firm. I don’t want to have to go through it twice.” I glanced at my arm. Not only was it red and inflamed, it looked like there was a small cut at the very spot Division’s tracker had been inserted in my arm. Had they found the tracker and removed it? No, I had felt it there as I pushed on it, over and over trying to get them to find me. Maybe all the pushing was pushing it right out of my skin.

  She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. One helper steadied my arm. Another stood behind me, holding me at my waist. The brand shook from Frankie’s trembling hands. A helper came and held them steady. The brand hit my arm. The most horrible, terrible pain rushed through me as it sizzled on my skin. I had learned techniques to ignore pain, but this was beyond pain. I couldn’t see. I heard myself scream, and all feeling ceased.

  When I woke, I was in bed, and I was hot. Too hot. The room spun when I tried to sit, so I stayed put. Everything looked a little strange, and I closed my eyes to stop the nausea from overtaking me. I went in and out of sleep. Hot and cold. Night and day. I couldn’t figure out where I was or who the people were that populated my nightmares.

  The room filled with light, and my world stopped spinning and stretching. I sat up slowly and noticed an IV in my right wrist. The lightness turned to dark as terrible memories filled me. I screamed out for Jeremy, and two women rushed into my room. Where was he? Why hadn’t he stormed the castle yet? He always had before.

  “You’re all right, dear,” the first woman said in a tiny, mousy voice. “You’re safe in your room. You got a terrible infection that caused a white-hot fever. We didn’t know if you’d make it.”

  “We’re so glad you did,” the second woman said. She smiled sweetly. She reminded me of the picture I had at home of Old Mother Hubbard, kind and loving.

  I lifted my hands up to my face to wipe away an errant strand of hair, but both my hands were wrapped in white gauze. My eyes, wide as saucers, must have alarmed the women.

  “We put antibacterial cream on your cuts and wrapped them. We did the same with your burns, with the addition of a great burn cream developed in Sterling’s labs. We cleaned and changed them both days.”

  “Wait!” I said. “How long have I been out?”

  “Two days.”

  I sat up. “Two days?”

  “Lay back down,” she said. “And yes, two days.”

  I pulsed into frantic mode. “What happened in that time?”

  “Just the same things that happen every day.” The first woman looked at my IV and checked my bandages on my arm and feet.

  “What happens every day?”

  “Tomorrow you’ll be given your training schedule, and you’ll figure out how it all works. It’s quite easy and straightforward. I think you’ll like it here.”

  Were these women here under duress or were they willing members of this crazy group? They were too sweet to be a part of this. I watched their arms as they worked, but never got a clear shot of the area under their arms. It stung when they changed the dressings on my brand. The red incision I’d seen on my arm just before it got branded, filled my mind.

  “What time is it?”

  They pointed to a digital clock on the wall behind me. It read 7:00.

  “How long am I going to have to be hooked up to this?” I said, pointing to the IV.

  “Now that your fever has broken and you’re awake, I’d say the doctor will probably release you tomorrow, but don’t quote me on that. He has a mind of his own.”

  I had to get out of here and fast. I wondered how much they knew.

  “My friends. The three that were with me. Are they alright?”

  “I’m assuming so,” one woman said. “You’re the only one we’ve been nursing since the selection.”

  I sighed, relief engulfing me.

  “Let’s get you to the bathroom and get you a shower.”

  I was shocked at my feet and arm. They still stung and burned, but I thought I’d have huge blisters. I didn’t. It felt great to get clean. I pumped the women for answers, but got little. Their knowledge seemed quite limited.

  “How come I’m not in an infirmary?”

  “Everyone here recuperates in their rooms after the doctor fixes you up in his office.”

  I wished I’d been awake to see that office. He had to keep files on a computer. Maybe that computer had access to the Internet.

  After finishing their work, they left. I sat in the room stewing, wishing I’d seen more so that I could plot or plan something to topple this kingdom. I had nothing. Obviously, my locator hadn’t worked, or Jeremy would be here already. Maybe he came and couldn’t find me? Impossible. My thoughts raced and reeled. I slept a lot and prayed a lot. I ate broth and crackers four separate times.

  I took the time to sort through all the information in my brain’s files on mad men, cults, zealots, and assassins, trying to get a better sense of whom I was u
p against. Most of it scared me silly. How could I overcome a brilliant madman? Would I have to become brilliant and demented? I never thought I’d wish I’d studied more madmen.

  I woke the next morning to whispered voices. The two nurses who had helped me yesterday were back. I smelled rubbing alcohol.

  “Oh dear,” one said. “I think we’ve woken her up.”

  “We’d have had to wake her in ten minutes anyway,” the other said. “What’s ten minutes?”

  They helped me to the restroom and freshened me up for the doc who came in a little later to check on me. I couldn’t believe I could walk. That burn cream must really have been great, and the cuts on my hands were almost completely healed.

  The doctor looked so ordinary, so normal: short cropped hair, wire rim glasses, and pale, smooth skin. He had a gentle, calm demeanor. Like the nurses, it seemed wrong for him to be involved in this. He spoke softly, asking me about all my different injuries. I sugar coated my answers so that he would free me. I needed to find a way out of here and a way to sink Sterling.

  He seemed to want to keep me from getting off of my sick bed. “Are you sure?” he said. “I think you might need a few more days, don’t you? I can have them send you real food, you won’t starve.” He didn’t seem to understand my desire to get out, and quick. Maybe he knew what awaited me and wanted to spare me.

  Finally, after a thorough exam, he said he’d release me the next morning. I used the time to plot and scheme about escape plans, going through all kinds of interesting scenarios that had no foundation whatsoever. It kept my mind occupied, though, and I needed that. I hardly slept the whole day. A good sign that I was truly getting better. By the time the doctor took the IV out the next day at four-thirty in the morning, I felt a million times better than I had waking up from the fever two days ago.

  My guide came in and brought me breakfast and fresh clothes at five. That’s when I noticed a neck collar just like mine around her neck. She was a prisoner, too. I dressed while she looked the other direction. I was glad the jumpsuits weren’t form fitting. It hurt to slide my branded arm into the sleeve, but I pretended it didn’t bother me, so that she couldn’t report I was in any pain.

  She had me make my bed and then sit on it. She handed me a sheet of paper. My schedule. I took a mental snapshot of it, but then kept looking at it, pretending to read over it. Instead, I was digesting the names of the classes: Natural Poisons, Guns, Chemicals, The Hunt, Disguise Thyself, A Poetic Ending, Run for Your Life, and Fighting the Right Way. I felt sweat trickle down my back, and I had to wipe my forehead to stop the sweat from dripping into my eyes.

  Eight to nine hours of classes. Full days. I’d have to get creative to find the time to work on getting out of here. The schedule was not straight forward, either. The hands-on classes were two hours each and had a rotating schedule of four a day. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday we did bookwork. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday we did hands-on stuff. Even a nutter like Sterling recognized the need to have one day as a day of rest if he wanted us in top form. It felt right that he’d chosen Sunday as the day of rest. I would start today, Saturday.

  “You are to memorize your schedule this morning. You will have to turn it in to me before you go to class. There are severe penalties for not being where you’re supposed to be at the right times. Do you need me to help you memorize it? It’s so important.”

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “I’m Zoey,” she said, folding her hands together in front of her.

  “Do you love it here?” I asked. I hoped I could get her talking.

  “I do love it here,” she said, no conviction in her voice.

  “Have you already completed an assassination?” A part of me wanted her to say yes, but I didn’t want her to tell me that, either.

  “Oh no,” she said, stiffening. “I was caught by my mark while attempting it, but Sterling rescued me and is giving me a second chance because I show so much promise.”

  “Am I part of your second chance?” I asked, taking a step closer to her. My heart pounded.

  She blinked her eyes hard in assent, but said, “Now that’s just silly.” She stepped away from me. I guessed we were being monitored. Since she didn’t just nod, I figured there must be video and audio surveillance in the room. I played along.

  “Maybe I would like you to help me memorize my schedule.” I said, wanting a chance to get some info out of her if I could.

  She sat next to me on the bed, and she coached me a bit on memorization. I played dumb. After about half an hour, I said, “Okay! I think I may have it. Can I use your pen?” She had a pen in her front pocket.

  “Sure,” she said, handing it to me.

  I turned the schedule over and said, “Let me see if I can write it out.”

  I said one thing and wrote another.

  Is there any way out of here? Has anyone ever escaped? What are Sterling’s weaknesses?

  Her eyes grew to the size of quarters when she read my three questions. She moved her eyes from side to side, which I figured meant she couldn’t say. I continued to write.

  Please tell me. I will help you get out of here.

  She said, “Wait, that’s not right, is it?” She took my schedule from me and turned it over, pretending to look for something specific. “That’s what I thought. Instead of Natural Poisons at ten, you actually have Chemicals, and Disguise Thyself is at four.” She wrote,

  There’s no way out. He has no weaknesses. Forget it.

  I said, “I can’t believe I missed that. I’m usually very good at this kind of stuff.”

  I wrote,

  There has to be. I will find it and get you out of here. You’ll see.

  She gave me a weak smile. She couldn’t even hope. “Even the best of us goof up sometimes. Give them to me out loud, one more time.”

  I did.

  “That was perfect. I think you’re set.” She took the schedule from me and said. “I’ll send this to the incinerator. You don’t need it anymore.”

  “Thanks for your help,” I said.

  “That’s what I’m here for. If you need anything, just push this button on the side of your nightstand.” She pushed the bedspread away and showed me three buttons, one yellow, one red, and one green. “I’m yellow. If you’re in trouble, push red, and don’t ever push green. That’s your direct link to Sterling. See you at breakfast.”

  I laced up the boots she’d set on the floor by me. “Okay,” I said, excited about finally getting out of the room. “Wait, I don’t know where I’m going.”

  “Right,” she said, blushing. “You’ve never been there or anywhere. Let’s go. I’ll show you the way. Oh, and your neckband is programmed to let you into the areas you’re supposed to go to, no others. It’s kinda nice not having to walk around with keycards. It’s all automatic. You’ll love it.”

  “Great,” I said, touching the strong wire that sat at the base of my neck, and I wondered what kind of crazy twists Sterling would add to my daily life here, wherever here was.

  While walking down the hall, I kicked myself for not using the paper to ask Zoey where we were. I had no idea what state or country we were in. I’d have to find a way to ask her. Before I’d fallen asleep, it had occurred to me that my best bet of being able to study Sterling would be to stand out. One characteristic of intelligent mad men, according to papers I’d studied at the spy academy, was that smart crazy people were attracted to people just like them.

  The only drawback to my plan was that while madmen were attracted to other smart, crazies, they tended to react in one of two different ways to prodigies like themselves. Either they buddied up with the kindred soul—or they saw them as a threat and got rid of them. It would be a dangerous gamble; I wasn’t sure which reaction he would have, but it was my best chance to get face time with him. It was my only workable plan at the moment, so I would work it. I thought about it on and off the rest of the day.

  “This training facility is laid out like a
wagon wheel,” Zoey said once we got to our first intersection. The mess hall is in the center of it all. From there, the spokes lead to classrooms and dorm rooms. Classroom halls are bright green, and as you can see here, dorm room halls are red.”

  I noticed the bright red paint on the walls of the hall we walked down. That was easy enough to remember. It smelled like strawberries, too.

  “Where were we that first night I got here?”

  “We were in the circus tent. It’s at the end of the green hallway with the elephants painted on the walls.”

  “And Sterling’s dining room?”

  “That’s down the red hall with forks and knives on the walls.”

  “Is his house attached to it?”

  She changed the subject, which I figured meant that was off limits. “Wasn’t it cool how your food came up out of the table?”

  “It was,” I said.

  “That’s only the beginning. Just wait until you see all the amazing things Sterling has provided us here. We are in the Garden of Eden. No one wants for anything.” As she said those things, her nose was scrunched. She didn’t believe the things she was telling me. She had to say those things.

  “I bet,” I said. “But I sure could use a cute skirt and my cowboy boots about right now. I feel about as attractive as a slug.” I ran my hand over my newly cut yellow hair.

  She laughed and said, “We don’t want anyone to feel inferior to anyone else, so everyone dresses the same. We all wear jumpsuits and get our haircut. It’s like a new birth.

  “Each new selection of kids is dressed in one color. Your color, obviously, is yellow. You will remain in that color until you become an accomplished assassin. Then you will wear white. The color of purity. I can’t wait until I can wear white.” She rolled her eyes at me, and I had to stifle a laugh with a loud coughing fit. We made it to the mess hall. It had taken us almost the full ten minutes. This facility was very large.

  I wanted to ask her about the hair thing. Why did he break the rules when he grabbed the Avengers, who didn’t have a boy and a girl with each of the four natural colors? And if his MO was consistent with the color thing all along, why did he just cut it and color it a color he wanted it to be? I couldn’t ask though. She might not know what I was talking about, and it might tip her off that I’m not just any old teenager.