by Lee Strauss
I led the way down an impressive, curving stairwell, lined with lush red carpeting. Grandpa V’s office was toward the back of the house, facing the ocean.
Our rings shone rays on extravagant furniture and ornaments. Glass-laden chandeliers hung from high ceilings in almost every room. Lightning flashed repeatedly and debris blown by the strong winds smacked against the windows.
The door to Grandpa V’s office was closed, but it pushed open without a creak.
I went directly to his desk, and stared at the darkened computer screen.
“I’m not sure what to do here,” I said. “I wish we could just flip through old-fashioned filing cabinets that had copies of incriminating papers, like in old movies.”
“Security is down, but there’s still power to the house,” Noah said.
I pushed the button and the computer whirled to life. “I have no idea what his password might be.”
A voice echoed from the corner, “And you’ll never guess.”
I jumped back into Noah, gasping aloud. The lights in the room snapped on, and I squinted against the sudden brightness. Noah groaned.
In the corner was a brown leather wing-backed chair. I had often curled up with a picture book in that chair. The leather was as soft as butter.
Now Senator William Vanderveen sat in it, his legs crossed, a glass of amber liquid in his hands.
“Check mate.”
“Grandpa?” I said, not believing my eyes. “I thought you flew back east.”
“I wanted you to think that, honey. But I knew you were digging. I couldn’t leave until I found out how far you’d get. I have to admit, you’ve impressed me.”
I shot Noah a sideways glance. We were in trouble. Big trouble.
“What do you think I know?”
“I know you befriended a natural to help you access places you couldn’t have otherwise.” s Dr. Vanderveen looked disgusted. “We just can’t seem to shake free of the Brody family.”
I shifted in front of Noah when I saw him flinch.
“And I know you tried to break into an office in the tower, somehow gaining access to the secured elevators. And, of course, I know you had a lover’s spat with your boyfriend, Jackson Pike.”
“He’s not my boyfriend anymore.”
“Well, you are young. I’m sure you’ll find another boy at the right time.” He sipped from his glass, clearly enjoying it.
“Did you kill Liam, Grandpa? Did you kill your own grandson?”
Dr. Vanderveen scoffed. “I’m not an animal. I did know about the experiment, of course, and I encouraged him. Perhaps a little too eagerly.”
“Did you finance it?”
“Yes.”
“Even though you knew it was too soon, that the technology wasn’t ready?”
“Yes, I knew all that. What I didn’t know was how far Liam had already progressed, and how far he was willing to go to test it on himself. For such a bright young man, he sure could be stupid sometimes.”
“What went wrong, then? Why’d he die?”
“That imbecile, Mitchell Redding.”
“Mitchell?”
“I told Liam he was too squirmy. Didn’t have the guts for something like this. He cut the power.”
“Mitchell sabotaged the experiment? But why?”
“Apparently he was afraid it was going to work. He said he’d turned it back on right away, but of course, it was too late then. The damage had been done.”
So Mitchell had seen the dangers of unleashing a technology like that.
“The boy knew too much.” The Senator re-crossed his legs. “And with his constitution, I just didn’t trust him.”
“So you killed him?” I was incredulous.
Dr. Vanderveen made no reply. He carefully set his empty glass down on the table beside him. “He killed my grandson. And he destroyed a year’s worth of work. We were so close to breaking through, Zoe, so close.”
“If the US military has put a hold on cyber-organic research,” Noah said. “Then why aren't you holding up on research? Unless you want to create the super soldier?”
“Mr. Brody, you are too smart for your own good. It was and still is my intention to...” Dr. Vanderveen shook his hand impatiently. “I don’t need to explain myself to you.
“Zoe, darling,” he continued. “Some people are dangerous. Even though you think you can trust them, you can’t.”
I agreed with his statement, but it was my grandfather who was dangerous, not Noah.
Dr. Vanderveen snapped his fingers. Instantly, two men blocked the doorway. I recognized one of them as Officer Grant. I’d known he was dirty.
“Grandpa, what are you doing?”
“It’s time for your friend to go.”
I looked at Noah nervously. There was no way my grandfather would let him live.
“What about me? Is it time for me to go, too? I know as much as he does.”
“Zoe, Zoe, Zoe,” William Vanderveen cooed. “You’re my grand-daughter, I would never hurt you. Besides, you can be fixed.”
Several things happened at once. Noah jumped on top of the desk, leaped for the chandelier and swung himself across the room. He clipped Officer Grant on the chin, knocking him over. As Noah ran for the door, I pushed an iron coat rack down, tripping the second officer.
I ran after Noah toward the staircase as I heard Grandpa V shout, “Get them!”
Half way up the steps I felt heavy hands grip my arm, throwing me off balance. Someone had me by the waist. I twisted and pulled, but his grip was secure. Grant sprinted by, his eyes set on Noah who’d stopped at the top of the steps. Noah’s eyes filled with desperation, and I could tell he was debating if he should come back to help me.
I shook my head and shouted, “Noah! The tree!”
“I’ll find you, Zoe!”
The last thing I saw was Noah sprinting down the hall, one of my grandfather’s henchmen on his heels.
PART TWO
NOAH
Chapter 30
I crawled out onto the wet branch of the oak tree. The rain pelted my face from an angle, almost horizontal.
I gripped the slippery bark close to my body, inching my way to the trunk of the tree.
My leg was caught. Snagged on a tree stub?
Worse. Grant had the hem of my jeans in one beefy hand. I impulsively jerked my leg. The motion tugged Grant half-way out the window, his bulk precariously dangling two stories from the cement patio. He let go of my jeans but the movement caused me to lose my balance. As I felt my body slip off the branch, I swung my loose leg back up and around. I glanced at Grant, who had pulled himself back into the house.
Our eyes caught for a moment. Grant’s were icy slits of blue evil. He wanted to hurt me; I had no doubt of that. Sheet lightning blanketed the sky and reflected on a metal object in Grant’s hand. A gun was pointed right at me.
I shimmied down the back side of the trunk, flinching as the first shot went off. I jumped the rest of the way, rolling in the landing. I groaned as the air was knocked out of my chest. My back sunk into the saturated lawn. I cracked my eyes open and caught a blurry view of Grant’s bulky back like a bear huddled in a tree. If I didn’t get up, he would reach me.
And I’d be dead.
I pulled myself off the ground and ran. Rain dripped into my eyes and the electric storm left a metallic taste in my mouth. More shots. My heart beat like a thousand tribal drums.
Grant was strong but not very agile. He shouted at another shape from the direction of the front of the house. Both men sprinted toward me. I was in the cover of the hedges, but the continuous flashes of lightening were like spot-lights on my back, revealing my position. At any moment I expected to feel the sharp pain of a bullet.
I struggled through the hole in the fence, getting slicked down with mud in the process. I was comforted by the fact that the hole was too narrow for anyone the size of Vanderveen’s men, but I knew that wouldn’t stop them.
My pulse spiked as I pumpe
d my legs, dodging cars and seeking the shadows of buildings and shrubbery, but Sol City was well-lit in the night. I feared I wouldn’t escape. My ears strained for the sound of sirens, or footsteps, anything that might prove I wasn’t imagining the pursuit.
A crack in the sky rattled the earth. I fell hard to the payment, sand grinding into my cheek. Something very near to me had been struck by lightning. Sleiman Tower? I turned my head in the direction of the imposing building and watched as it went dark, one floor after another like the removal of Christmas lights from a gigantic tree.
Suddenly, all of Sol City was blanketed in darkness. I thanked God and sprinted to the gates. The crowd there was mangled in the darkness, and I pushed past bodies until I’d squeezed through to the other side.
The emergency lights were all that lit up LA, leaving it in a ghostly semi-darkness. At least the transit was still functioning. I hopped on to the first pod I came to, my chest burning with quick, short breaths. Still looking over my shoulder, I checked for the faces of Grant and his partner.
A sigh slipped out as I realized they weren’t on the pod with me. The thudding in my chest gradually slowed to normal. I was safe. For now.
But I’d abandoned Zoe. I left her with the most dangerous man in the state. The Senator of California and presidential candidate, her grandfather.
If I’d stayed, I’d be dead, and I wouldn’t be much help to her then. No, I did the right thing by running. I had to hide and then think of a way to get back to her. To save her.
I thought about going home, but that would be the first place Grant would go.
My heart stuttered. My family. Were they safe? Vanderveen wanted me, and needed to find me because of the man’s stupid pride-filled confession. Now I knew too much.
But would he go after my family?
I tapped the base of my ring. I needed to warn my mother, but how to do that without throwing her into cardiac arrest?
I’d go through Skye. She’d deliver my message in a calming way. I couldn’t risk being overheard by the other passengers, so I texted her.
Skye, I’m in trouble. I have to go into hiding for a while. Mom and the boys may be in danger, too. Please take them some place safe. I have to ditch my ComRing, so don’t try to respond. I’ll contact you somehow in a few days to explain.
I hated dropping such a heavy message and task on Skye, but I had to make sure my family was safe.
Now, where to go?
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Think, think. Anthony’s? Brian’s? No. They’d check all of my friends. The church? For sure they’d go there.
The warehouse? Vanderveen knew we had found out about the experiment, but he hadn’t mentioned the lab. Was it possible he didn’t know Zoe and I had found it? Even if he had figured it out, it was the last place they’d guess I would go.
I got off at the next stop. They couldn’t track me via a chip since I didn’t have my own and had given Liam’s back to Zoe. But all ComRings were equipped with GPS. Finding the nearest drainage ditch, I slipped my mine off my finger and dropped it.
I found the pod line that would take me to the eastern sector. A block away from my destination, the pod lurched to a sudden stop throwing the passengers into blackness. The wind whipped against the pod, flipping it off the magnetic grid. Screams filled the confined space as everyone was tossed about. A blast of pain shot through my side when my ribs caught on the back of a seat.
I covered my face while shattered glass fell around me, and the pod skidded to a halt on its side. I crawled to a broken window, wincing as shards of glass bit into my palms.
Blood dripped onto the ground. Mine? I felt something warm run down the side of my face. I touched my forehead and frowned. I had to get to the lab. There were medical supplies there.
I pushed myself into the wind. At times the force of nature was too much, and I was compelled to drop to the ground, covering my head as I folded into a ball. I pushed onward as the wind whipped my body. Debris and trash whirled above my head. My teeth chattered with the cold, and my skin was prickly with chills. Sheet lightning brightened the sky and was my only guide through the dark neighborhood. I’d never witnessed a storm as freaky and wild as this one in my entire life. I felt like I’d fallen into some kind of wormhole and into an alternate universe.
The door to the lab swung wildly as if possessed. Inside, I pushed the door closed and twisted the dead bolt. The sudden calm shocked me. Even the pelting rain against the windows felt quiet.
I no longer had my ComRing for light, and the warehouse lights were out like the rest of the city lights. The lightning came at wider intervals, but it still helped me get my bearings. In my mind I played the memory game. What did I need, and where was it?
First aid. The box was where? I’d seen it, but where was it? In one of the cupboards? Yes, which one? In the bathroom. Like a blind man I walked across the room, my arms stretched out, yelping when I banged into the corner of a table.
I patted the wall were I’d spotted a first-aid kit. My hand came upon a tube-shaped handle.
Yes. An emergency flashlight. I flicked it on and jumped.
Bloody hell. The light reflected off the mirror and on my face like a horror movie. Blood thickened on my forehead and in my hair, and more streamed down the side of my face. I opened the first aid kit and got to work.
I flinched as the antiseptic bit through the wound on my skull. Bloodied water spilled into the sink, running past my eyes as I washed it out of my hair. I spit red from my mouth and grabbed the hand towel, patting my face and hair dry then applying a bandage to my head.
Once I had my face washed and bandaged up and the glass cuts on my hands cleaned out, I began a raid on the lab.
I needed supplies. The beam from my flashlight landed on a backpack hanging on a hook behind the door. Perfect.
I grabbed it, holding it upside down. Empty.
My first stop was the cupboard that held the space food. I took the basket and dumped it into the bag. I went back for the first aid kit and threw it in—just in case.
What else? My wet clothes still clung to me. Coming off my adrenaline rush, I started to cool, breaking out in uncontrollable shivering.
Did the lab jerks leave any clothes behind? The hoodie in the closet. I opened the door, my mind returned to the moment when Zoe and I had huddled in there, her body pressed against mine for the first time.
I peeled off my wet t-shirt and donned the dry hoodie. Better. I checked the upper shelf and was rewarded with a pair of folded grey sweat-pants. I stripped out of my wet jeans and put them on, then I rolled my wet clothes into a ball and stuffed them into the pack. Anything else?
The gun. Had Mitchell left it? Which drawer had I put it in? It’d been dark and at the time all I’d thought about was getting Zoe away from Mitchell to safety.
I rummaged through drawer after drawer. In addition to Grant, I’d need protection from would-be thieves and attackers, who were sure to be enjoying the lack of law enforcement going on right now. A gun would make a good deterrent.
Where was it? I ran my hand along the back of the last drawer, my fingers stretching out as I reached. They touched something. Cool metal. I laid it in my palm and examined it. A standard handgun.
Loaded.
Chapter 31
We can fix her.
What had that maniac meant?
I stood at the dart-board game’s oche line, which my father had marked with a two by four, I held a dart between my thumb and forefinger and tossed it. It arched like a blue-tailed bird and hit the outer mid ring of the board.
I’d successfully stayed concealed at the family cabin for a week and a half. My first two nights were sleepless, but when Grant still hadn’t discovered me on the third day, I started to relax.
I lined the second dart at eye-level, brought my arm back and sent it forward in a smooth arc.
Yes. Inner circle.
On the night of the storm, I made my way to the garage at the back of my mother
’s house. As I’d hoped, it was dark and quiet; Skye had cleared my family out. I kept to the shadows, though I hadn’t spotted either of Vanderveen’s men. I took the cash, hidden in a safe in my bedroom, and my computer pen. I rode my father’s scooter through the cacophony of traffic snarls and looting until I arrived at this peaceful, hidden refuge in the mountain forest.
My third dart hit the board with a snap, and I breathed in sharply. The outer bull’s-eye. I’d never gotten this close to the bull’s-eye before. My aim was improving.
I’d made two trips into Capulette, the little tourist town closest to my hideaway. Capulette had a charging station where I charged the scooter, a general store for the locals where I’d stocked up on canned goods and soda, and a coffee/souvenir shop for tourists passing through on their way to the national park.
I postured myself back at the line and threw the first dart of my second round. I let out a disgruntled snort. Outer circle. So much for improving.
I pictured my father standing here. Relax your shoulders, Noah. Don’t lean forward. The dart should float through the air. Young Noah had watched in awe as the dart hit the bull’s-eye again and again.
My second dart arced through the air, missing the center bull’s-eye but snapping solidly into the next inner circle.
I needed to find Zoe. I hadn’t tried to contact her for fear her transmissions were being monitored. She was probably worried sick, or angry that I hadn’t tried. Or weeping, thinking I was dead.
None of these scenarios was acceptable. I needed a plan.
Sweat dripped down my brow, and I paused to reach for my can of cola. I grimaced. It had warmed and flattened in the sun.
An idea came to me a couple days ago. My mind reviewed it over and over. It was risky. I might not find her.
I might get caught.
I bit the inside of my cheek, uncertain. Should I or shouldn’t I? I poised myself at the line and lined up my shot. The dart floated through the air.
Bull’s-eye.
I should.