“No, Regan,” she says confidently. “Not one word of it.”
The sedan takes a sharp turn in the tunnel and I lunge forward, grabbing on to the leather door handle so I don’t smack up against the media screen in front of us. Cathryn is oddly unmoved, sitting straight with her legs crossed.
Once I’m tucked back into my seat, I pull the shoulder harnesses across my chest and snap them together. Then I continue on.
“But there seem to be all these pieces of—”
“Evidence?” she interjects. “A lot of the information they have is pure conjecture. And whatever proof they have of Elusion being faulty or harmful reeks of a setup. Do you know how many competitors of ours would love to see Elusion fail?” Every muscle in Cathryn’s face seems to tighten as she speaks. “Do you know many of them might pay someone off to sabotage our corporation, get our CIT approval revoked, or get us banned from the market altogether? Believe me, the number of hatemongers out there is staggering. We have sources of our own who are hunting for leads. When we find out who is responsible for this shakedown, they’re going to wish they hadn’t picked this fight.”
My head is spinning so fast, I think I’m going to be sick. While I’m sure there are plenty of companies who would love to see Elusion fail, I know two people who share the same motives, and they are apparently working together to make it happen.
Using me to get what they want.
But does it stop there? Is there another, larger conspiracy going on, with the Josh-and-Avery connection being just the tip of the iceberg?
The sedan takes a harsh jolt when we finally come out one of the tunnels and merge onto the main roads. It’s enough to set me into action mode. I press the eject button on my seat harness, and as soon as it releases me, I lean over and activate the intercom.
“Pull over here, please,” I say, my throat suddenly raspy.
My breathing is a little constricted too, but that eases a bit when the car slows to a stop close to a pedestrian bridge.
“Regan, wait—we’re only in the Merch Sector,” Cathryn says as crinkles of confusion form near her eyes.
Detroit’s premier shopping district is still a far distance from home, and my mom is probably worried sick that I haven’t InstaCommed her yet. But my mind is made up.
“I know. There’s someone here I need to see.”
It’s a miracle that I’m able to make out the tiny blinking neon sign of an inconspicuous eCafé in the distance. Holding on to my umbrella, I gallop down the metal staircase of the bridge, hoping I don’t slip and fall on the wet surface. The storm has lost some of its strength, but visibility is still awful, which is why traffic on the Merch Sector’s central eight-lane avenue is so slow.
I block out the bellowing car horns and turn right onto the sidewalk, my sneakers sloshing through puddles filled with reflections of the national chain stores’ gleaming lights. The businesses out here are open twenty-four hours because Standard 7 schedules keep many customers away until late at night, so even in this weather I have to dodge crowds of people with enormous shopping bags. A lot of bargain hunters buy in bulk and transport their purchases in these triple-decker wheeled carts that take up a sizable portion of walkway. They are nearly impossible to see around, too, creating another obstacle for me, but thankfully, there are digital billboard-sized maps posted every five or ten feet telling me exactly where to go.
After two more rights and a left, I finally reach the eCafé’s automatic glass door. I close my umbrella and go inside, where droves of motionless customers are sprawled out on couches and oversize love seats, their eyes hidden behind dark Equip visors. There are also a few surly security guards surveying the room from their prospective posts, making sure that no one can take advantage of the patrons.
I take off my O2 and put it into my bag, then pull out my tab, turning it on so I can look up the Elusion code Josh sent me a couple of hours ago. I shut the device off before I left for Orexis—I just wanted to tune out the world at that point—so when the screen lights up, there are some new texts. Two more from Josh, pleading with me to meet him at the Mount Arvon Escape; three anxious ones from Mom, wondering where I am; five from Zoe, gossiping about Anthony; and a single note from Patrick, telling me he went home to his apartment.
I let out a small sigh of relief. If Avery had somehow broken through the encrypted files on the QuTap and released that information (along with my name) to the press, I’d certainly have heard that from Patrick or Zoe by now. So all I have to do is find out why Josh gave it to her in the first place, and how he could do something that treacherous behind my back. The good thing about meeting him in Elusion is that both our defenses will be down—he’ll be much more likely to be honest with me, and I won’t be too angry to listen to him.
The bad thing is that I might be risking my life.
I try not to think about that as I scroll back to Josh’s message and open it. Then I find an empty table and spill the contents of my bag onto it, hoping that I remembered to throw my Equip in my bag this morning, in the off chance Josh and I had to go somewhere private during the day and Escape again. But the only piece I have is my wristband. I look at my tab—the clock reads 9:48 p.m. My heart skips as I glance around for anyone who might be Reawakening—maybe I could borrow a visor and earbuds from someone. But there’s not a single soul here who isn’t connected to his or her Equip, temporarily incapacitated. With the guards watching me, there is no way I can wander up to one of them and check out how much time is left on the wristband.
As soon as I sweep all my belongings back into my bag, a stylish girl with long brown hair and a pink puffer jacket strolls out of the bathroom, the neon-yellow wires from her Equip earbuds dangling outside her designer messenger bag.
“Excuse me,” I say, stepping in front of the girl, blocking her path.
“What?” the girl scowls.
I clear my throat, already embarrassed. “I know this may sound a little weird, but . . . can I borrow your Equip for a little while?”
“I’m leaving,” the girl replies, attempting to step around me.
“Wait!” I move to the right, cutting her off. “It’s kind of an emergency.”
“Kind of an emergency?” she sneers. “I’ve got somewhere to be, so, you know, kind of get out of my way.”
“Please!” I open my bag and frantically search for my wallet. When I locate it, I pull out my passcard. “I’ll give you a hundred credits for twenty minutes.”
The girl raises an eyebrow, as though she’s considering it. She even glances at her watch, which gives me hope.
“I’ll do it for three hundred,” she demands.
She’s totally fleecing me here, and I would try to negotiate more if I wasn’t in such a jam. I’m about to agree, when I realize that there’s another problem. “I only have two hundred in my account,” I blurt out. “But I’ll transfer the rest to you as soon as I can.”
It’s pretty clear that I’m begging, and from the way the girl’s lips are puckering, she actually seems disgusted by my obvious desperation.
“You should, like, check yourself into a program or something,” the girl snaps as she brushes past me and out the automatic door.
I hang my head low, humiliated, even though practically everyone in the room is comatose.
“You’re not an E-fiend, are you?” a voice says from behind me.
I spin around to see a bald middle-aged man standing behind a white Formica counter, wearing a green barista apron. Apparently he saw the whole sorry display.
“I don’t think so,” I say. But at the moment I’m feeling so desperate to get into Elusion and meet up with Josh, I can’t help but wonder: Is this how it feels to be an addict?
“Did you hear? Someone might be in a coma because of that stupid contraption.”
“I know. But I really need—”
“A nice cup of hot coffee?” the man says, grinning hopefully.
“I wish that could help.” I walk toward him and
sit on one of the counter stools, tapping my foot, agitated.
“You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin.”
“Someone is there, waiting for me. I need to talk to him.”
“Your boyfriend?”
I have no idea what Josh is to me right now, but I find myself nodding before I can make sense of my thoughts.
The man motions over my shoulder toward the back of the room.
“Listen, my coworker just took his break. He left his Equip in the staff room. You could use it for a little while if you wanted,” he offers.
It’s like the universe is throwing me a lifeline.
“Really?”
“Make it quick, okay?” His voice is warm and kind. “And don’t die on me. That would really ruin my shift.”
“Thank you so much.” I reach into my bag for my passcard so I can credit him, but the man waves me off.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “Just be careful.”
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
THIRTEEN
I DON’T KNOW HOW LONG IT TAKES ME to find the ice cave, but it definitely seems more difficult to do on my own. The rappelling moves slowly because my ExSet isn’t at an advanced level like before. I also have to stop a few times and force myself to remember what exactly I’m in search of.
Thankfully, not one bit of frustration registers on my emotional spectrum. My mind and body are like balloons, rising into the frosty air, totally weightless and free. When I see the emerald-green archway that leads to the cavern, a surge of happiness wraps around my waist and chest as I remember the last time I was here.
Josh kissed me.
Another stroke of seismic energy overtakes me, crawling up the back of my neck and burrowing into the base of my skull. My head tips upward, shifting my gaze. Above me are thousands of bright electric-purple stars, twinkling like glittering pinpricks in an ink-black sky. I follow the glow of the deep red moon, which leads me into the cave, which still appears to be made of grass-colored ice. As I walk inside, the shadows from the spinal columnshaped stalagmites poking out of the ground and shimmering icicles hanging overhead dance around the soft, snowcovered floor, swirling with gorgeous pigments that blend together and form an ethereal yet distorted rainbow effect.
About twenty feet away, I see Josh kneeling in front of the gargantuan ice formation that stretches through the ceiling of the cave. He’s wearing a navy parka, charcoal-gray jeans, and heavy, industrial boots. A backpack is securely fastened on his shoulders. His brow is furrowed as he concentrates, his curious amber eyes focused and clear as he draws something in the dazzling cherry-blossom snow.
From behind a large, gleaming green icicle, I watch him for a bit, each one of his movements so deliberate yet graceful. I’m aware that I was angry with him back home, but I’m having trouble recalling why. Then I hear a little voice in my mind telling me the reason is no longer important.
Trust him.
He’s your friend.
He cares about you.
So I listen and step closer, looking at what Josh is trying to create in the snow—a makeshift sketch of the firewall. But once I recognize it as the looming frozen structure in front of us, I feel a sharp, squeezing twinge near my temples, like my head is being attacked by two sets of pliers. Another voice, not reassuring in the slightest, pops that amazing balloon-like feeling, and all that’s left is a searing rage that almost knocks me to my knees.
The firewall.
Suddenly, I remember.
My father.
Orexis.
The QuTap.
Principle Caldwell’s son.
Avery.
Everything connects in this complex matrix of gut-wrenching images, and I’m so furious I’m actually trembling. My head begins to throb with a relentless pressure behind my eyes. I close them tightly and press my fingers against my temples, but it doesn’t alleviate the pain. “Regan?” I hear Josh call out, his voice questioning, like he’s surprised to see me.
He walks swiftly in my direction, reaching out when I’m close enough to coax into a hug, and I quickly step to the right, dodging him and causing him to stumble. High doses of adrenaline are fueling every one of my nerve endings.
“Stay away from me!” I spit.
Josh doesn’t seem as aggravated as I am, but his posture stiffens until he’s as unmovable as the ice walls surrounding us. “I told you, I can explain.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to hear this story,” I say. “I bet you and Avery came up with a great excuse for using me as a pawn in whatever scheme you two have going.”
“There’s no scheme,” he says.
“So then why the hell did you give her the QuTap?”
“Because it belongs to her. She gave it to me. So we could complete our mission.”
My hands ball into fists. He can’t possibly be that stupid. “What?”
“Her father’s a . . . cybersecurity specialist.” Josh closes his eyes and squints, like he’s trying to open his mind and search for information. After a beat of cold, hard silence, he forces another sentence out. “She has access to the equipment we need to decode the QuTap.”
My fists are turning white with anger. I feel like pummeling him into the snow. A drop of green moisture falls from the ice-covered ceiling, splattering against my pale, clenched knuckles. “So you went behind my back and asked for help from my worst enemy? Were you just playing me the whole time, so you could get information that would screw my father’s old company over?”
“No! That’s not what happened!” Josh shouts. Apparently his feelings of aggression are now matching mine, fire for fire.
“And what about the photos of the warehouse? Did they just magically appear in the journalists’ possession?”
“Look, I had to show those to Avery, too. What she did with them was kind of impulsive, but—”
“Impulsive, huh? Do you have any idea how much trouble she can get Patrick and me in? She despises us!”
Another droplet of melted ice splatters and then another, but I’m so consumed with anger I brush them away without thinking.
“Us? Someone is in a hospital, hooked up to machines because of Elusion, and you’re still worried about Patrick? That’s pretty twisted.” The expression on his face contorts into fury, and all of a sudden I’m reminded that Josh nearly beat a guy to within an inch of his life. I’m not scared that he will physically hurt me here, but it’s another reason to lash out at him.
“Well, what about you?” I scream. “You’re just like him! All you’ve done is lie to me!”
The drops are falling faster now. The temperature feels like it’s risen at least twenty degrees since we’ve started arguing; the snow below our feet is quickly evaporating and creating a thick cloud of blood-colored mist.
“I have never lied to you. Ever.”
“What about that guy you assaulted? Did you just forget to tell me that he almost died? Or what about Nora’s emotional problems? You never said that she might be unstable.”
We’re eye to eye, nose to nose, on the verge of a real brawl.
“Go to hell!” he breathes, right into my face.
I don’t think or feel. I just react. I cock my hand back and then it flies forward in an attempt to slap him. Josh ducks, avoiding the blow. As my hand hits empty air, I lose my balance and stumble toward him, my legs eventually giving way. He catches and steadies me, with one hand on my waist, the other on my shoulder. When our eyes lock, the tension in my muscles unravels almost immediately, and I can feel his body relaxing too.
Slowly, his arms bend and lead me closer to him.
My cheek is lightly pressed against Josh’s chest, and I’m still breathing hard as the anger begins to dissipate. The only thing that defused the nuclear-scale fight was seeing the tenderness in Josh’s eyes. He is not my enemy.
The droplets are h
eavier now, and falling so fast it seems to be raining.
“What’s happening?” I ask, my breaths shallow and raspy. “I’ve never felt angry in Elusion before.”
Still cradling me in his arms, Josh glances suspiciously at the giant, weeping icicles above.
“The cave is melting,” he says.
We hear a loud rumbling, and the ground beneath us shifts, causing a few of the icicles to come toppling down, separating us. The ice shatters when it collides with the ground, sending a flurry of mud-brown debris in every direction. A piece strikes me in the chin, and it stings like a hornet’s bite.
“Is this what happened at the beach?” Josh asks as another splinter of the frozen cavern crumbles into dark ash right beside us.
His question brings back every detail of the Thai Beach Escape, and how it seemed to self-destruct right after I saw my dad. There is no question about it. Our seething anger was no coincidence. Nor is the melting, quivering green ice cave.
“We need to get out of here,” Josh says, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the firewall.
But I dig in my heels and wrestle away from Josh’s grasp. “Wait!” I shout.
“Regan, we have to go!” he screams back.
The earth begins to shake again, even harder this time. The giant icicles above us clatter, like a chandelier about to snap from the ceiling, as the pillars of stalagmites begin to shudder around us. Josh covers me with his body, acting like a human shield to protect me. “Press your emergency button!” he urges.
I don’t want to leave. Not yet.
“Do it, Regan! Now!”
As shards of ice begin to drop from above and the towering stalagmites begin to tumble, my eyes dart around the cave in search of more solid ground. That’s when I realize someone else is here, no more than a hundred feet away.
The slim build. The salt-and-pepper hair.
My father.
“Look!” I say, pointing in his direction.
Josh whips his head toward the spot I’m gesturing to. His mouth slips open in astonishment “Is that . . . ?” he whispers.
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