I almost tumbled headfirst down the stairs, but Jordyn caught me and stood me back up.
“I’ve never seen anything like it…just coming into a bar with a bag of money dressed like THIS?” She picked at Bo’s suit with two fingers, like he was infested with some contagious disease. Her eyes then turned to Mom. Jordyn looked her up and down, from her stilettos to the bobby pins that held her hair back. “Were you TRYING to stick out like a skinny kid at fat camp? If I hadn’t been there, those guys woulda stolen your money and had you thinkin’ they did you a favor. Then we’d all be screwed.”
When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I glanced backward. The staircase stood almost vertical, and it reminded me of an old fairy tale where a bear cub disobeyed the rules and wandered deeper and deeper into a cave. I remembered it didn’t turn out too well for the bear.
The room only had one light, and it hovered above a gray metal desk at the far end of the room. Though the desk was free of any office supplies that would help someone put it to some use, I saw a man sitting at it with his back toward us. He slouched in his chair.
Five cots lined the room, and each had only one thin blanket. The blankets barely covered the tops of the cots, and the fabric was stained brown with age. A black backpack sat at the edge of each of our beds. The cement floor clinked with each footstep, and I doubted we would be able to stay warm that night. The heat outside couldn’t seem to find its way in, and there was a chill in the basement that went straight to my bones.
Or maybe it was him.
“Cain, they’re here.”
The man turned in his chair.
I recognized him from the photo Bo showed us, but the photo had not done him any justice. His eyes were the blue of blue M&Ms. I didn’t think they made people with eyes that blue. The way he moved his hands was like they floated through the air, in one endless, graceful motion. His hair was the brown like the brown of Mom’s favorite dresser, the one where all the pictures of Aidan rested. I stifled a smile.
I noticed a long tattoo on his forearm, stretching the length of it in a deep brown, nearly matching his hair. I never wanted a tattoo myself, but I was always curious about what people loved enough to paint on their bodies with ink and needles. His tattoo was a long rectangle, stopping a couple inches below the top of his wrist to stretch out into two sections that wrapped around to the other side of his forearm. The long rectangle started again after the two offshoots jetted off, and the whole shape was covered in complicated patterns. I stared at it for a long time, squinting so that I could make out every detail. After he moved his arm slightly, I could see the other side of the tattoo. I realized the shape was a cross.
“Money?” Cain didn’t move from his slouching position. His fingers rested intertwined in front of his chest. Jordyn snatched the bag away from Bo and set it on the desk. It landed with a thud. Finally, Cain shot out of his chair and ripped the bag open while keeping his eyes on Bo. “Not nearly enough for your lot.” Cain pushed the bag over the side of the desk and let the money spill onto the floor in a storm of green snowflakes.
Bo’s voice quivered. “What do you mean? This is your asking price. So this is what I brought.”
Bo’s voice wasn’t supposed to quiver.
Cain smiled widely, in that way that people do when they think the person they’re speaking to is a complete idiot. “Look, we’ve got one government rat, that would be you, and a woman who’s the face of all the bullshit. With more risk comes more reward.” He smiled and gestured around the room. “That is supposed to be the American dream you people work for after all, right?” He stepped in a wad of green money and gently rubbed it into the floor with his foot. After he was done, he sat back at his desk, looking rather pleased with himself.
Mom stepped toward him. “Please, we swear we’ll get you your money. It’s not my daughter’s fault. We’re all she’s got!” Mom tried to stand strong and still, but I could see her hands were shaking.
I marched past her.
When I reached Cain’s desk, I hopped right on top of it and sat down. He may have been good-looking (really…really good-looking), but I wasn’t thrilled about the way he was talking to us. “You’re kind of a jerk, aren’t you? My mom’s been through enough tonight. If you aren’t gonna help us, just say so.”
He looked at me square in the eyes.
I stared right back.
He grinned. “I’d have to agree. Not much fear in you, huh, Riley?”
I shook my head. Right then another piece of information about him crept out of my memory, another clue that would help me rediscover him. Crossing my legs in a sitting yoga pose, I asked, “Did you really kill a man in a room with nothing but an orange, a glass of water, and a toothpick?”
Cain’s eyes met mine. He laughed. His laugh sounded like a children’s choir singing, short little notes one right after the other.
He leaned toward me like he was going to tell me a secret. I could smell fresh mint as his breath brushed my face. “Ah, you must have seen that TV report about me.” Of course. I had seen a documentary on him a few months earlier. And if I remembered correctly, the reporter didn’t exactly praise him with flying colors. “Mostly garbage, some truth.” He paused, running his hand gently across his desk. “I like you, so I’ll tell you…it was a grapefruit…and three men.” He winked. Looking around my shoulder, he declared, “Alright, I’ll do it.”
Mom thanked Cain for his understanding, but as the words fell from her lips, she gestured for me to back away from him and stand beside her. I could see Jordyn roll her eyes from across the room. She must not have gotten the message about leaving my mom alone. “Why don’t you want to help us? What did we do to you?”
“It’s nothing personal, just worried about how we are going to get THESE two across the border,” she pointed to Bo and Mom, “without getting ourselves killed in the process.” After looking them over once more, she sighed. “I have my work cut out for me. I hope nobody here has an aversion to dressing down.”
Cain smiled. “That’s why you’re the best, Jordyn. Get them dressed and ready…we’re leaving at first light. I need them ready to run out the door the minute I say so. Oh and you…” He pointed at Bo, then at the money on the floor. “Pick that up.”
Mom cautiously went up to Cain. “Why first light? Don’t you people do all your…well, you know…at night, so no one can see you?”
Jordyn scoffed and shook her head. I could already tell she had an opinion on just about everything. But Cain answered the question anyway. “Because the only reason people travel at night is to do things the police and the Taskforce tell them they aren’t supposed to do. They see someone walking or driving around at night, especially in a group? They know something’s up. Automatic target. Right on our asses.”
Jordyn marched up behind my mom and ripped her sweater right off her arms, then tossed it across the room. “Easier to blend in.” As Jordyn spoke, she dove to Mom’s feet, yanked her heels right off, and threw them in the direction of the sweater. “You two, follow me. I’ll deal with your man friend next.”
Mom and I obeyed.
Jordyn walked us toward the back of the giant room where there was a stack of old boxes. I guessed she realized that changing the rest of our clothes would require a little more privacy. The boxes created a dressing corner just big enough for the two of us.
Our new wardrobe hung neatly on a pipe that sagged low from the basement ceiling. There was a black shirt for each of us. Both shirts were almost long enough to cover our butts, and we each had a pair of jeans that dangled from below the shirts. Clunky, thick, brown boots sat on the ground under our clothes, and the laces hung loosely open at the sides. Mom groaned as she took off her pressed, white blouse. I picked up one of our new boots and examined it. It had thick leather, with the biggest tread I had ever seen, like there was a cut-up car tire on the bottom of the sole. Mom noticed it too and ran her finger up and down the too-straight lines. “Are we climbing mountains or somet
hing?”
Jordyn nodded. “Maybe.”
When we emerged from our corner, we looked like people in the old war movies. The only thing missing was black tar smudges on our cheeks. Bo’s eyes widened, but Cain just said, “Ahhh, that’s better. Now, everyone pick a bed and get some sleep. You need to be ready. When I say it’s time to go, we go. Oh, and Bo,” Cain walked over to him. “Give me the gun I’m sure you’re carrying.”
Bo paused for a moment but reached into his holster and handed it to Cain.
“And does anyone have a cellphone on them?”
We all shook our heads.
“Of course not. We’re trying to stay lost, not be found, for goodness sakes,” Mom said.
Jordyn spit out a laugh. “With you people it wouldn’t surprise me. All this planning and those Taskforce fuckers find us because of a goddamn cellphone.”
Cain glanced at Jordyn. “You’re right.” He grabbed Bo by the shirtsleeve and patted him down hard. I think Cain just wanted an excuse to hit him. Jordyn came over to Mom and me and did the same pat-down, but much more gently. All three of us passed.
After our search, Jordyn threw Bo’s new clothes at him and showed us which beds were ours. I had to giggle when he folded his dress pants and shirt into a neat little pile. He had no reason to think he would ever need to wear his suit again. When he finished changing, he hopped in the bed that sat between Mom and Cain, which didn’t surprise me at all. The way he was looking at Cain, I definitely expected him to try to keep them as far away from each other as possible. He roughly threw the blanket over his head and was snoring within minutes.
Mom hid her eyes under her blanket, but she shook when she cried, so I could easily tell. She was practically silent, but her convulsions gave her away. I squeezed my eyes shut. The springs on the cot dug into my back and I missed my bed at home.
In our hurry, I had accidentally left my favorite stuffed animal on my bed: a frog that had a little bowtie. I felt way too old to need a stuffed animal to sleep, but I kept him hidden in the pillows on my bed anyway. My arms felt squished together with no plushy friend to keep them apart.
Somehow he must have known. I felt a breeze when something started to slide under my blanket with me. When I opened my eyes, there was a small brown stuffed bear lying next to me. I looked up to see Cain winking at me. Before I could thank him, he turned away. I squeezed that bear tight and slept straight through ‘til morning.
CHAPTER TWO
The day I lost Olivia started out the same as any other. But take your own average morning, tie it up, and squeeze it. Squeeze it so hard that it can’t breathe and the color leaves its cheeks. Then you’ll have an idea of what the start to our school day was like.
Our Washington, D.C. school administrators gave the search procedure a fancy name, something that didn’t sound like it meant each person had to take their clothes off as their ticket into the building. Violation was the price of admission, and all of us paid up five days a week. The name of the search procedure prettied up the fact that, if we wanted to get an education, each of us had to step into an all-black compartment at the front of the school and strip in front of a volunteer we barely knew.
I just called it The Box.
About fifteen minutes before class, Olivia found me in line for The Box in the section next to the gym and scooted in next to me. I leaned against the chain-link fence as we ignored the glares and yelling from the students behind us. I didn’t understand what they were getting so worked up about. It wasn’t like she was cutting in line at Disneyland after all. The Box would still be there waiting for them when they made it to the front.
“Riley, did you do your math homework yet?” Olivia asked. I automatically translated the question into, “Can I copy your math homework again?” and reached into my red plastic folder. I shoved it at her.
“Liv, really? Again?” Not that I minded, but I knew the habit wouldn’t help her pass the test at the end of the week.
She grasped my paper as if it carried a special secret, holding it carefully between her fingers. “Thanks, I owe you one.”
“You always say that.” I watched as she opened her own folder and scribbled away on a blank piece of paper. The puffiness I had hoped was gone for good had come back to Olivia’s cheeks, and a familiar pink tone took over the whites of her eyes. “Couldn’t sleep again?”
“No, I had…I had some stuff I had to take care of.” Her eyes trailed to the pavement under our feet.
“Stuff, huh? Sounds exciting.” I didn’t mean to scoff at her, but it just popped out.
She was never very good at lying to me.
She forced her cheeks into a smile, and they seemed to tremble with the effort. “No problem though. I’ll get some sleep tonight.” She stopped copying my homework long enough to put her arm around me. “I’m coming over this weekend still, right? Sleep over ‘til Monday morning?”
“Yeah, of course. Mom’s making her tacos. And she said if we get all our homework done on Friday she’d let us play outside on Saturday. We can stay out all afternoon since Bo’s coming over. Mom said they’ll sit on the porch and work on her next speech while we play catch.”
The rules were always just a little more bendable with Bo around. Ever since Mom and I met him that day after one of her speeches, he made regular appearances at our house. She may have called him her best friend, but I said he was her “not-boyfriend.” He always came over and cooked dinner for us; they would go to movies together; they did everything that people who date do. But whenever I dared to mention the obvious, Mom spilled out the denial. I was never sure if she was trying to convince me or herself, but I didn’t think it worked on either of us. But ever since my dad left, having Bo around made me feel a little less different, so whatever they were, it was alright by me.
Olivia tucked her silky dark brown hair behind her ear. “I’d like that.” The skirt of her olive green dress fluttered just a bit in the breeze. She was the only one at school who bothered to dress up anymore. Sure, all her clothes came from the second-, third-, or fourth-hand shops, but she made them look brand new. Some of the other girls snickered behind her back, but I told her she looked like a star from old Hollywood, especially standing next to me. Mom counted herself lucky if I managed to throw on jeans without any holes in them.
There were only a couple people between us and The Box by the time Olivia finished with my math problems. The compartment towered over us from the top of the stairs, and I avoided looking at it for as long as I could.
No matter how many times we had to go there, the nausea hit me once I finally had to glance down at that first step. But for her, I smiled. “Don’t worry! It’s Miss Lillian today. You like her. Just get her talking about her pies and the time will be done before you know it.” I squeezed her hand. Her skin felt cold and damp in my grasp.
“You’re right. I just…I just don’t like people, you know, looking at me.” Olivia folded her arms across her chest, as if the inspection had already started. “It makes me feel…it just sucks.”
Even though Olivia had cut in front of me, I volunteered to go first. The Box was about the size of two outhouses stuck together, just big enough for two people to get in. Though at first glance the walls seemed clean, smells of plastic and wet mold thickened the air. The walls were dark on the inside, and they told our parents on Meet Your Teacher Day that there was no way anyone could see us once we shut the door. I hoped they were telling the truth, but since people were okay with The Box existing at all, nothing would have shocked me.
“Hello, Miss Riley! How are you today?” Lillian’s voice sounded soothing. But the fact that she stood just inches away from me made me feel awkward anyway. Knowing that I was about to get naked didn’t help either.
“Good, ma’am, how are you?” I made small talk as I removed my clothes. Some of my classmates took the time to fold their shirts and pants, placing them in a cute little pile on the stool that sat behind the door. Not me. I threw them in t
he corner as soon as they left my body. No point to being in there any longer than I had to. I kept my arms straight out in front of me and did the usual four quarter-turns. Of course, I passed. No weapons.
• • •
After all the big businesses went overseas to escape government regulations, the economy crashed and everybody’s parents lost their jobs. They seemed to lose their children too. Not in the literal sense, of course, but when parents were all off trying to figure out some way to pay their bills, their kids had to try and figure out the whole life thing on their own. And without anybody to point them in the right direction, gangs seemed to be popping up all over the place. This may come as a shock, but gang leaders weren’t exactly dripping in moral authority. Someone picking on you? Take a knife to school. The school bully calling you names? Waving a gun around would shut him right up. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this new trend would end up getting people hurt, or dead. One of those people happened to be my brother.
My mom decided she was going to make sure Aidan’s death meant something. She kept talking about how losing him would save the lives of other kids. So she wrote a bill with a set of rules for parents and made public speeches about them to rally support. Nobody was required to turn over a limb to the government if their kid got detention or anything like that. The rules were just things that most normal people would agree would help turn a bright and shiny child into a fully functioning adult. People even embraced the part where, once parents broke the rules, their kids would be put in a boarding school. The idea seemed to beat leaving children with parents who had checked out.
The list was pretty short, and thanks to Mom’s amazing public speaking skills, the government was putting the list on the books. Until then, we would still have to deal with The Box, but when the government was done setting up the systems they needed for enforcing the rules, kids were going to be cared for again and no one else was supposed to die.
The Extraction List Page 2