The other boot went on, then her gloves, then helmet.
I drew much satisfaction from slamming the helmet on her head, but my force was too much for the plastic. Her head popped off and rolled across the grass, out of the covering of the bushes.
I snarled at her and grabbed for her head.
“Are you trying to get us all in trouble? Cooperate, will you?” I jammed Sari’s head back on. Her gaze was now turned perpetually to the left, but that was better than her head not staying on at all. “Fine. That works. You happy? I’m happy.”
I adjusted her bent arms back in place and tied the bungee around each of her wrists so I could wrap it around me and give the illusion that Sari held onto my waist. Then I cracked her hip bone back in place, adjusted her legs to a sitting posture, shifted her dress into an appropriate position, and leaned her against a tree.
“Are you ready to go, or not? I’ll be good to you, Sari, if you’ll be good to me. We’re a team here, and I’m gonna need your help.”
She stared at me with white, soulless eyes.
“That’s what I thought. Now, no more trouble from you. Stay here. I’ll be right back with my bike.” I pulled on my leather jacket. “Yes, you heard me right. I know you like a man on a motorcycle.”
Her plastic face smirked at me.
Even Sari knew I wasn’t the twin the girls always wanted.
68
SAGE
To get into my room, Jack had busted through the window above the toilet.
“And that’s the way we’re exiting, too,” he said.
Jack slipped out the bathroom window, motioning for me to follow. I peeked my head out, looking down.
The grassy side yard loomed a full two stories below. The clouds covered the stars tonight, even the light of the moon shone at half-strength, shrouded by striated clouds. It looked like a light rain had fallen earlier; the air heavy with moisture. The grass had a wet, dewy appearance.
“It’s not so hard,” Jack said, already making his way down. “Just find the stones with tiny overhangs. Grip tight, but use your legs. It’s not in the fingers. It’s in the legs. Your palm should be fine.”
I didn’t move. “Don’t you have any gear or special tools or something?”
“Tools?” He looked up at me, his body flat against the stone exterior already feet below the window. “Like secret rappelling wire hiding in my pockets?”
“Yes …” I said, hopeful.
“No. That would be resourceful, but unnecessary.”
“But …”
Jack lowered himself further down the wall. “You think I’m James Bond or something?”
I had yet to leave the window, my apprehension building.
“No, you’re J. A. Doesn’t J. A. have any cool gadgets hiding somewhere on his person?”
“I’m pretty sure not, but you’re welcome to search me when we’re down from here.” He smiled up at me. “Now get going!”
“Jack …” This wasn’t a good idea. Why did he think I could do this?
And then I realized why.
Jack still thought I was operating with heightened skills. He didn’t know I had nothing any more—not even my numbers.
No semblance of anything special at all.
“Jack!” I hissed, trying to tell him as much, but he’d already made it more than halfway down the wall.
I cursed.
Here went nothing. Just a few broken legs if I fell, right?
I swung my legs out into the cool night air. My feet scrambled for some sort of purchase, and finally they found a very tiny piece of stone jutting out from the wall. I took a deep breath and shifted my hands from the window sill. My fingertips gripped the first stone just below the window ledge. My palm cried out in indignation at the exertion of my hand.
I slowly lowered my right leg, searching for another ledge. My tennis shoe found one.
I scanned the wall for another spot near my waist to place my hands.
There. A little stone, sticking out.
A clammy layer of sweat broke out on my palms, not helping my effort since the stones were already damp themselves. I held my breath and bit my lip in concentration, forcing myself not to look down. My left leg went next, searching, searching …
And then, I slipped.
I think I screamed as I fell.
I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the ground, and praying I wouldn’t knock Jack off the wall below me.
The next thing I knew, I was in Jack’s arms.
He’d caught me. My legs dangled over one of his arms, my torso held by his other.
I waited for Jack to wince in pain, waited for some part of my body to start throbbing.
None of that happened.
My mind still hadn’t adjusted to having Jack around again.
“Hurry,” he said, placing my feet on the ground and grabbing my hand. “They probably heard you scream.”
We sprinted for the nearest row of shrubs.
*
“Now what?” I said, once we were hiding in the bushes. The night air felt crisp, the dampness of the ground making its way into my bones. The mist had started up again. In the far distance, lightning flickered across the night sky.
My knee touched Jack’s thigh as we squatted, and again, I felt disappointment at the lack of energy that flowed between us. It’s not that I didn’t appreciate what it felt like to touch him—the idea, and the feel of it, were both pleasant. But the touch lacked the voltage from before.
I shifted slightly so that our legs weren’t connecting and I wouldn’t have to think about it right now.
Jack didn’t seem to notice my subtle movement away from him.
“Now, we wait while these guys leave.” He nodded to three guards jogging by on the far side of the lawn near the veranda. “We listen for our cue. Then we make our way to the opposite side of the mansion where my bike is parked. There’s a back road out of here. They use it when they bring in landscapers to work on the property. I cut the lock off the gate earlier tonight.”
“And Beckett?”
“He’ll head in the opposite direction. Throw them off our trail.”
I nodded, my eyes glued to the guards searching the perimeter until I felt Jack staring at me.
When I actually got up the nerve to look at him, I saw he was frowning.
“What?” I said.
“You couldn’t hear me,” he said. “I was talking to you while you were up on the wall, trying to coach you on where to place your hands.”
“Well, if you would have spoken a little louder,” I said.
“But you didn’t have any trouble hearing me back on the island, over the noise of the gunshots and the helicopter. I was barely whispering back then. And your cut …” Jack’s brow furrowed. “And the pull …. What happened to you?”
I knew it!
I knew he felt the same pull on the island. He never admitted it to me then. He denied it by his indifference and unwillingness to talk about it. Now I know it was true. He had felt it, too. And now I knew he felt that same thing was missing, just like I did.
But it was Jack’s other words that rang most strongly in my mind: What happened to you?
I immediately became defensive.
I didn’t know what had changed, but so what, anyway?
“Nothing happened to me,” I said, irritated. “Just because I’m normal now doesn’t mean something is wrong with me.”
Jack held up his hand in an act of surrender, but the look of concern—or was it disappointment?—didn’t leave his face.
I didn’t have time to piece any more of my thoughts together because a whistle came from the front side of the mansion, followed by the roar of a motorcycle.
“That’s our cue,” Jack said. “Let’s go.”
69
SAGE
Three security guards jogged past us, other voices blaring over their walkie-talkies.
As soon as they passed, Jack motioned for us to move.
&n
bsp; We sprinted across the back side of the property. The lightning was close enough to hear rolling thunder along with it now. The mist had increased to a heavy drizzle, soaking our leather jackets.
At the north end of the mansion, in the open gap between the house and the far row of bushes, I could see to the front lawn. Jack paused at the corner of the house, keeping us in the shadows. Fifty yards away, Beckett emerged from a dense cluster of trees on a motorcycle. A girl on the back wore my shiny gold dress, a leather jacket, and tall, black leather boots.
The mannequin. With the helmet covering her face, she looked surprisingly real.
A voice shouted into the night.
“They swapped her!” Sven’s voice carried from somewhere on the front lawn. “This one has the girl! Follow him! Get her!”
Beckett’s bike took off down the driveway.
A familiar bark followed him, chasing his motorcycle down the long asphalt drive.
Ollie!” I said in a half-cry. Jack grabbed my arm as I instinctively moved out from the shadows. He pulled me back in toward the stone wall.
Behind Ollie, security guards drew their guns, running after Beckett. Two more guards followed in a golf cart, quickly overtaking those on foot.
But it was as if Beckett heard me, or maybe he heard Ollie barking, because right after I called out, Beckett glanced back and spotted Ollie, fifteen feet back, half the distance between his motorcycle and the golf cart.
“No,” Jack whispered between clenched teeth. “Just go! Go!”
Beckett’s bike slowed slightly; he seemed to debate for a half-second, and then he whipped into a turn, his bike tires skidding across the pavement as he rotated the motorcycle and headed back toward the oncoming enemy.
Jack growled.
He stepped away from the wall—to do what, I wasn’t sure—but he paused while watching his brother, perhaps waiting to see if he’d have to intervene.
Someone shot at Beckett as he scooped Ollie up with one hand and careened his bike around in a tight circle. The golf cart was a mere ten feet away now.
Another gunshot went off.
Beckett ducked as he pulled his bike up out of the turn. He didn’t look to be hit because he instantly accelerated, tires screeching, and sped away from the golf cart.
We watched until the driveway curved, and Beckett disappeared out of view.
Relief flooded through me. He was safe. And he had Ollie.
I smiled. He’d gone back for my dog.
“Let’s go,” Jack said. “We don’t have much time now. They’ll be looking for me, regardless of whether they bought the mannequin ruse or not.”
“I think it worked,” I said. “Sari didn’t do half-bad.”
Jack snorted in reply.
We fled the shadows of the wall and sprinted for Jack’s bike.
70
BECKETT
It was going back for Ollie that did it.
The front gates were closing on us.
Sven couldn’t open them up again that fast—the gate motors only moved at one speed—and people were behind me.
I had to get out now.
Our entire plan balanced on my escape.
I could see the wrought iron closing slowly ahead of me, the gap between the two gates growing smaller and smaller.
I had to go for it. I had no other choice. I couldn’t get caught. I had to give Sage and Jack enough time to make their getaway.
So I gassed the motorcycle, and we surged forward even faster, Ollie huddled against my leather jacket, drizzle collecting on my visor.
Only a few more feet.
But the gates were shutting. It’d be too close. We were too close.
The front tire broke through the gap, but the gates continued to come together, and I felt wrought iron catch my right leg, tearing at the jeans and skin at my calf.
I accelerated harder. And then … we were out. I sped out into the road, giving a hoot of triumph. The gates immediately began to reopen, and I saw three motorcycles speeding down the driveway toward me.
My leg throbbed, bad. But that was the least of my worries at this point. I’d have people on my tail within seconds.
The bungee had maintained its hold, and Sari’s plastic arms were still at my waist. Her legs looked intact, and she remained sitting up behind me.
She still looked like a real human. So there was that, at least.
I pulled Ollie closer to me.
As if congratulating us on our escape, thunder clapped across the sky, and the heavens opened up with rain.
“Hold on everybody!” I shouted over the downpour, ignoring the knot twisting in my stomach from the storm.
I couldn’t get distracted now.
It was time to fly.
71
SAGE
We made it out undetected.
The pouring rain helped with our cover.
I rode on the back of the motorcycle, my arms wrapped tightly around Jack’s rock-hard abs as we zoomed through the tree-lined, curvy highway.
Jack’s warmth was a nice sensation, but unfortunately, I felt distracted by some sort of burning in my right calf. It felt like an itch at first, and I leaned over to scratch it, but the pain grew into a throb that wouldn’t go away.
I tried to distract myself by staring at the moon in the sky, which I could barely distinguish behind the rain. I searched for any stars that might be visible.
But the stars remained totally concealed, and anyway, when I thought of the stars, I thought of Kansas, and then of Beckett, and then I worried about whether he was okay or not and if I should feel guilty for not trusting him more.
And then, I thought of Sven, and all he said about Beckett while we were dancing, and my doubts about Beck returned.
I felt completely and utterly perplexed by my inability to distinguish what and who to believe.
So, ten minutes later, when the burning in my calf muscle grew so overpowering that I couldn’t think of much else, a small part of me felt grateful for the distraction.
72
IMOGEN
They dragged Bert out an hour or so ago.
Bert. The real Dr. Cunningham.
Finn’s dad.
Sage’s dad.
Bert got taken to the basement. I wouldn’t forget the look on his face as they dragged him away from his son.
And then, everybody sort of disappeared.
It’s quiet now.
Eerie quiet.
I couldn’t look at my hands. The bleeding, pulpy flesh burned like fire.
“I’m sorry you had to witness all that,” I said to Finn. “You might not believe this, but I don’t like violence. I’m just good at it.”
My head dropped against the wall in the corner. “I was hoping that would go a wee bit differently though.”
With painful effort, I ripped free a piece of my shirt and attempted to tie it around the part of my hand that bled the worst.
“I just do stupid stuff sometimes, Finn. That’s all.”
The cloth felt like salt against my raw flesh.
“Would you know, one time, on the island, Jack and Caesar and I had this plan all worked out to escape. Long story, but things went arseways. So, I offered myself up to Dr. Adamson to try to get the information we needed so we could leave the island. Didn’t work, he wasn’t interested. Which was good, because I was crazy scared to do it. I’ve never had sex. That man who favored my mother told everyone at the circus I ‘wasn’t to be tainted,’ so no one touched me. That was the one nice thing that man did for me, and I don’t think it was for me so much as his circus show.”
I bit my lip as I attempted to tie a knot in the piece of cloth.
My hands screamed.
“’Course Jack went ballistic when he found out. Caesar did too, truth be told. But look at Jack, he does stupid stuff all the time. This was no different. Jack always says, ‘I do what has to be done.’ Well, so do I. I do what has to be done.”
My hands were shaking now from
the pain. My mouth felt dry.
“Just like today, Finn. I’ll get us out of here, don’t you worry. One way or another. We’ll be heading on.”
From Finn, I got nothing but silence.
73
JACK
Two hours after leaving the mansion, we pulled up to an inconspicuous diner on the outskirts of the city. The rain had stopped. Sage climbed off the back of the motorcycle.
Twice on our way, I’d steered the motorcycle to the side of the road to check my phone, expecting to see a text from Beckett.
Nothing.
Now, I pulled out my phone again.
This time, there was a text from Beck.
It came in just two minutes before:
I’m out and safe. Ran them off. See you in 4.
I sighed—a mix of relief and gratitude for my brother—and my entire body released a rope of tension I didn’t know I’d been holding onto. I tucked my phone back into my pocket. I’d be able to enjoy dinner much better now.
We’d see him in four hours.
It was half-past midnight now; Beckett would get to the hotel around 4:30 am. Perfect. He could rest for a few hours, and we’d head out around 7:00 am for Kansas City.
This had all played out much more smoothly than I expected.
74
BECKETT
The guys chasing me were relatively easy to evade, despite the rain.
Now, two hours later, the storm slowed down to a light mist again.
I stopped at a nondescript scenic overlook, a small, deserted outlet just off the road that provided a view of the rolling hills and trees of western New York. A brick wall offered a barrier between the gravel parking area and the drop-off to the view below.
I climbed off my bike to stretch and get in touch with Jack.
My leg was burning, and I ripped off part of Sari’s soaking gold dress and tied it over my leg to close up the hole in my jeans and the gash in my leg.
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