I grinned at Jack.
“You’re right. I’d rather have her.”
I punched him in the arm. He punched me back. Punching felt better than talking. Besides, how could we talk about all the things we could not say?
“Get out this car before I beat you up,” Jack said.
“I’m going, twin brother, but not because I’m afraid of you.” I jumped out over the door. “We’ve got a girl to save.”
39
IMOGEN
I ate all five of the crackers.
I gave Finn some water, which mainly just dribbled out of his mouth.
I had a drink myself.
I set the glass down.
I did one hundred push-ups, despite the excruciating pain in my hands.
I did two hundred sit-ups.
I couldn’t stall any longer.
“Fine,” I said, popping up from the ground. “Fine, I’ll tell you the rest of the story.”
I couldn’t sit. I felt too nervous, about too many things: Finn, Cunningham, Bert, Jack, Beckett, me telling this story out loud.
I paced the room, circling around Finn’s bed.
“So this little girl and her mom lived together alone. And her mom loved her. And they lived off meager funds, but they always had enough. Every night, her mother would sing to the little girl, and the girl felt safe. And then, one day, her mother’s sister came. The sister was very perceptive. She noticed things about the little girl that the mother had meant to keep hidden from the world—things the little girl could do at a very young age. Like back flips off kitchen chairs, handstands for hours. The lady noticed how the little girl could read books and how she could memorize poems, after just one time through. So the lady came up with a plan. She decided it would be advantageous to share the little girl’s talents. She knew a man who owned a traveling circus.
“The little girl’s mother refused. She said she was getting money from elsewhere and didn’t need to mix her daughter up in something like that. And so the sister sat back and watched … and watched … and watched, until she figured out where their money was coming from. She learned the truth about the mother. She found out who was supplying the money and why—a giant corporation had promised to pay, if she’d carry this child and raise it until the little girl was big enough to be taken away from her mother. The sister listened closer … and found that the mother never intended to give her daughter away. The sister realized that, before the time came for them to collect her beautiful daughter, the mother would run away and hide.
“The sister listened and watched and listened some more. And when she’d finally heard enough to be dangerous, she made her threat. ‘Enter your daughter into this circus and let me collect the money or else when the time comes for these people to collect your daughter, I will help them find you. I will tell them of every hiding spot you ever had. And you will not get away from them.’
“The mother was afraid for her little girl, and so, the little girl joined the circus. She traveled all around the country—many countries—and the little girl might have been happy. She didn’t mind the shows as long as she could be with her mother. But her mother was not happy, and so the little girl was not happy. The mother was nervous all the time, worried that the people would come find her and her daughter. And so the mother drank things to help her not think about it. And she made promises to people never to leave the circus. She promised a man who fancied her that she would never, ever leave.
“But the day came when the little girl was so lonesome for the mother she knew before the circus, that she begged her momma to leave. And the mother still loved her daughter, and so they tried. Late one night, they tried. But the sister saw them going, and she told the man. Momma never tried to leave again. And the little girl never asked again, either.
“But when the time drew near that the people would be coming for the little girl, the mother begged the man. Begged the man to let her hide. Just for a little while, in some cottage in the mountains. And so the man hid her away with her daughter because he didn’t want anyone else to have the woman or her daughter. He loved them, in his own way.
“The sister was not expecting this, and she did not like having to find her own money. She became jealous, and she broke her promise to her sister. She told the people where they were.
“And those people came for the little girl. And they killed her mother because she had tried to hide. They said she hadn’t done her duty, but the little girl knew her mother had done her duty. She was protecting her daughter. And they had killed her mother for trying.”
I stopped pacing then and wiped my eyes with my arms.
My voice tightened. “And you see, Finn, that’s the problem with loving someone so much. When it ends, all that’s left is pain.”
40
BECKETT
I pulled my leather jacket on over my dress shirt while Jack talked on the phone with Dr. Cunningham.
“Yes, we got here undetected,” Jack said. “Things are underway. Beckett’s about to leave. What’s Finn looking like?”
I can’t hear what Cunningham is saying, only the sound of his voice coming through the receiver. He talks a long time.
I rolled up my tuxedo coat, which I’d just picked up at Crash It, and tucked it in one side of the saddle bag on the motorcycle. In the other side, I put a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and tennis shoes. I slipped my phone in my leather jacket pocket. The gun would have to stay behind. Vasterias will be search the bike for sure.
Cunningham finished, and Jack’s next question, combined with the steel in his voice, made me stop packing.
Jack wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Let me talk with Imogen.” Jack said.
There was another long pause, and Jack said, “No, I’m sorry if you’re offended, but I’d like to get her opinion as well, if you don’t mind. She’s in the bathroom? I’ll wait.”
Jack paused, listening while Cunningham replied.
“Fine. Fine. Then have her call me, please.” Jack clicked off the call and turned to me.
“Something’s up. He didn’t want me talking to Imogen. And he said Finn’s not doing well at all. That he could die at any time.”
My hand went to the motorcycle to brace myself. If I started too far down that path of thinking about Finn, I’d lose all focus on what I was about to do.
“There’s nothing we can do now,” I said tightly. “Imogen is with him. I’m sure she’s doing all she can.”
Jack nodded. “But that’s more than we can say for Cunningham. Something’s off,” he said again.
I climbed onto the motorcycle. “Then we better get this done quick and get back to Kansas City.”
I could tell Jack was still distracted by the phone conversation he’d just had with Cunningham, and I realized that all day we’d been ignoring a very real possibility: things might not go well tonight.
Vasterias has never been an easy wall to breach.
We were leaving separately. One motorcycle on the road attracts less attention than two. We’d meet up again at the moment of escape and then again later, at the hotel, after I sent Vasterias on a wild goose chase, with them thinking I had Sage on my bike with me.
There were holes in our plan. Lots of them. I knew it. Jack knew it.
I wanted to tell Jack something, anything, just in case things went wrong, in case everything didn’t turn out like we planned. I didn’t want it to end like the last time we left each other, when we didn’t see each other for three years, and all I had was the memory of Jack helping Dad shove me in the back of that car.
I wanted this to be different. But I didn’t know how to start.
I think I needed to tell him I loved him, that he actually was the best friend I had in the world, that I was proud to have him as my brother. I needed to say it because I couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment was a turning point, for better, or worse, or both—whatever that meant. Somehow, I knew when we returned to the city with Sage—if we returned t
o this city—everything would be different. And that’s why I wanted to say it, just in case, for whatever reason, I didn’t see my brother again.
“Jack, I …”
But Jack seemed to tune into this, that I was about to get sentimental, and he stopped my words by setting a helmet on top of my head. With one solid bump of his fist, it dropped down to cover my face. I knew he did it on purpose, to stop me from saying anything more.
“I’ll see you at the mansion,” he said. “Tonight.”
He grabbed my forearm roughly, gripping my arm tight. I took hold of his with the same hand. Our shake, our silent pact.
We would do this. Together. Brothers.
I think, for that moment, it was good enough.
So I nodded, took one last look at the solidarity in his eyes, flipped my visor down, and started up the motorcycle.
41
JACK
Why do I push people away? Even my brother? When all he wanted to do was say some final words.
I could tell he’d wanted to say something, and I just didn’t know how to face the words—or him.
I finished two hundred pull-ups and my body dropped from the warehouse rafter. Pull-ups always cleared my head.
Somehow, we’d make it through this. I was going to get them all to safety. That was the least I could do. I was the reason we were here in the first place.
Once Sage, and Beckett, and Imogen, and Finn—assuming he survived—were hiding somewhere safe, that would be my cue. I’d cut out.
Which meant I only had a limited number of days left with Beckett. And I couldn’t even let him say what he wanted before he left. Why was I such a jerk?
I didn’t deserve him. How did I get all the bad and he get all the good? When this ended, I was going to spend my years of solitude working on how not to be a jerk. After all this was over, maybe some time alone to contemplate would do me good.
Maybe I could change.
I grabbed a fresh t-shirt off the top of the neatly folded stack of clothes. Beckett had left everything all over the floor, but I didn’t give him the pleasure of seeing me disturbed. I waited until he left to fold it all. It took a lot of willpower to wait.
I pulled the shirt on and slipped my leather coat over the top.
Assuming all went well, I’d see the city lights again in less than five hours.
Five hours, and one step closer to the finish line.
No more Vasterias. No more testing, no more fighting, no more pretending, no more running.
Five hours. One step closer to the end.
42
SAGE
Dallamore led me to the ballroom.
We took six hundred and forty-five footsteps to get to the ballroom doors, and then I wanted to turn and run.
An extremely tall lady wearing a purple dress and too much lipstick exuberantly approached Dr. Dallamore, which gave me time to take in the scene.
Tables spread across the ballroom, decorated with crystal vases and giant blossoming flowers. Near the stage, the ballroom floor remained open for dancing. People mingled. A live orchestra played in the corner. Tiers of food were displayed along the walls; more food was being delivered by attendants in black and white. Giant glass doors behind the stage led out to the veranda. Up on the stage itself, some sort of rounded glass display sat under a spotlight.
I wished someone were here with me. I wished what Sven said were true, that Beckett would come for me. He always calmed me down in times like this, with lots of people around. He had a way with large groups. People automatically liked him. And no matter how betrayed I felt by him lying to me, no matter how unsure I was that I could forgive him, he was still my friend. If I thought about it honestly, somehow, my heart still trusted him, even though my brain didn’t.
Either way, I wished he were here now.
“Don’t be fooled,” a voice over my shoulder said into my ear, “they’re not real.”
I turned to see Sven.
“Who’s not real?”
“Your eggs. In the petri dish under the glass case on stage. You can see the eggs underneath the magnifying glass. Vasterias wanted a visual to get everyone roused for higher bidding. They even went so far as to freeze and vacuum seal the canister, but it’s all a ruse. They’re not your eggs.”
Sven plucked an hors d’oeuvre from a passing platter.
“I’m sure Dallamore already had a talk with you about not acting up, didn’t he? Because that’s one thing he and I would agree on for the night, until the time is right, at least.”
Sven popped the cheese and olive into his mouth, surveying the ballroom. “Not long now.” His voice held hints of anticipation.
He tossed the skewer onto another passing tray and sauntered into the ballroom, giving me a backward glance. “Nice dress by the way.”
Was Sven’s story too good to be true? Was it actually possible Jack and Beckett would show up tonight, or was he leading me on for motives of his own? And if so, what could they be?
“Come, my friend, it’s almost time to go inside,” Dallamore said, waving off the lipstick lady and collecting himself beside me again.
At the same time, a man in a white tuxedo mounted the stage stairs. The man tapped the microphone on the podium, ensuring it was on.
“Welcome, everyone. If I can have your attention, please.” The conversations around the room quieted.
“My name is Dr. Marshall Mitchell, and on behalf of the entire board of Vasterias Enterprises International, myself included, we would like to welcome you this evening. We have much progress to share with you tonight, specifically in our genetics division. We know you’ve all been anxiously waiting to hear more, and we thank you for your patience. We will begin the presentation in just a few minutes, followed by the bidding, but first, I’d like you all to join me in welcoming our guest of honor. For without whom, this night would not be possible.”
Dr. Mitchell waved his hand to the back of the room, toward where Dallamore and I stood. A few people began to whisper, most everyone turned to look to the back of the ballroom. I glanced around, wondering if he was talking about the lipstick lady. But no one else was standing near us.
Something heavy dropped straight to the pit of my stomach just before Marshall Mitchell finished his words.
“Would you all please join me in a warm welcome for the daughter of the late Dr. Robert Cunningham. Ladies and gentlemen, our very own, Hope Elizabeth Cunningham.”
43
IMOGEN
I felt lighter, somehow, telling that story. I’d never said it out loud before, not the whole thing. Not like that. Not even to Jack or Caesar.
And I can’t explain it, but I felt closer to Finn—to the unconscious kid on the table—just for having said it to him. Like he actually cared or something, which was utterly stupid, because he hadn’t even heard me.
I did a hundred more push-ups to shove away all the emotions that the talking had brought up. The screaming from my hands really helped—I could hardly think about anything else while I used them to help hold up my body weight. Bending the skin at the wrist in that way—it felt like it cracked the skin further, deeper.
And now, I was hungry again. It had to be evening already, and no one had come in here since late morning.
I needed to use the loo.
I needed to talk to Dr. Cunningham.
So I pulled out the toilet paper dispenser parts from underneath the sink where I’d stashed them and started working on a lock pick and a weapon.
44
SAGE
This was not happening.
Don’t make eye contact.
Look straight ahead.
Follow Dallamore.
Keep walking.
I wished Jack were here. Because if he were here, no one would be staring at me, they’d all be staring at him. Everyone stared at Jack because he was beautiful, and symmetrical, and perfect, and composed. If he were here, I could blend in behind him.
As it was, Dallamore was
weaving me through the tables while the claps and stares continued.
I heard the murmurs as crossed the room. “Looks like her father … so beautiful … that dress … what a doll … all grown up … found after all these years.”
We approached a table at the front of the room where he pulled out a chair for me. Numbly, I sat down.
I couldn’t imagine what people were interpreting from the stupefied look I felt on my face, or why they would call me a doll. If we were going with a children’s toy comparison, I felt like an army figurine. Inside, I was ready for battle.
First of all, that Mitchell guy had said the late Dr. Cunningham.
Why? Did they know something about my father that I didn’t? If my father were dead, Sven was lying about him rescuing the boys.
If he were alive, then this man on stage was lying. Why? Why did they want everyone to believe my father was dead?
And then, the eggs. The eggs that weren’t my eggs. Or were they? What if I had passed out longer than I thought with Dr. Stanstopolis this morning? What if she drugged me, kept me under? How long would a process like egg extraction take? I didn’t know about these kinds of things. What if Sven had helped Dr. Stanstopolis do it? What if his job was to confuse me, help keep me subdued, make me wonder and ask questions until it was too late to do anything at all?
The questions rolling through my mind were relentless, and with each new question, my chest grew tighter, my breath sped up, and my thoughts threatened to pull me into a space where I felt totally out of control. And yet, I needed to be more in control than I’d ever been before. I needed a plan. Because, the way things were looking right now, if I were going to get out of Vasterias mansion before Vasterias got to my real eggs, the escape was going to be on my own.
The Golden Order Page 12