by Kira Peikoff
They had to be upstairs. He was heading to the staircase when he noticed, carved into the wall on his left, what looked like an elevator. Curious, he jabbed the button and the doors slid open. The interior was like a tight wood-paneled closet, so tight that only a few people could fit at a time. Four, no way.
The cop scurried down the stairs then with his palms upturned.
“Nada. Just two empty bedrooms and an office.”
“No attic?” Les asked Julian, who shook his head.
“I checked,” the cop said. “Nothing.”
“You looked down the elevator shaft?”
“Empty.”
Les shook off his disappointment. He expected Galileo to be slicker than that.
“But every other house has been searched!”
The cop shrugged. Julian glanced between them, his expression impartial—almost bored. Les could feel his certainty dissipating. He wanted to punch a hole in the wall. How the hell could four flesh-and-blood people vanish into thin air?
“Let’s check outside,” he snapped, leading the way to the back door.
The yard was about a half acre of patchy grass with a humble row of potted plants and flowers near the door. The roses were wilting in the heat, scattering white and pink petals over the ground. There was no outdoor pool or other potential hiding spot out here. But the property did back up onto a dense bunch of trees and shrubs just past the fence. Taking heart, Les shined his flashlight over the grass. He squinted, dropping to his knees. Distinct patches were crunched into the lawn, bending the blades of grass sideways. Were they—footsteps?
“Hey,” he called to the cop. “Check this out.”
Together they aimed their flashlights over the suspicious sweep of grass, tracing the indentations across the yard. At a patchy spot with only soil, Les noticed something strange. One of the footprints was smaller than the others, only about eight inches long, and its imprint was a crisscross pattern of interconnected squares.
He knelt down, examining the marks. With a little analysis, they’d be able to determine the type and size of shoe, but to him it was obvious—these footprints belonged to a kid. He thought back to the house and made a mental note to go check more closely for this specific print on all floors and carpets. If Zoe and the fugitives had been in this yard, they could very well have been in the house, too—which would mean the old hunchback might be an accomplice.
He examined the lawn further. At a certain place in the middle, the cluster of steps appeared to diverge. One set of large footprints trailed off to the left, leading all the way to the neighbor’s backyard. In the thrall of discovery, Les followed them up to the short dividing fence between the two houses and then ran back to the center, where the cop was calling him over. Here, the side-by-side indentations—some big, some small—were pointed toward the back fence. Toward the forest. So they weren’t in the house after all. They had split up and gone on the run. Les smiled. Gotcha.
With the reinforcements he was about to call in, they would be captured in no time—pathetic ripples crushed by his tidal wave.
He thought of the veneration he would garner back at the Capitol. Benjamin Barrow would have to concede his effectiveness, and together they would use this hook to reel in Galileo and destroy him.
But in the service of humanity, before the celebrating could commence, there was still one unfortunate but necessary chore for Les to tackle. The girl was too dangerous, even if freed from the Network. At any point in her life—and who knew how long it might otherwise be—some deviant scientist could get hold of her DNA and wreak havoc. He thought of a chilling quote that had always stuck with him, from Gore Vidal, about what human beings were doing to the planet already. Think of the Earth as a living organism that is being attacked by billions of bacteria whose numbers double every forty years. Either the host dies, or the virus dies, or both die.
This particular virus was like a superstrain. All he had to do was isolate her once and for all.
Then he would be freed up to concentrate on his biggest prey—the scum who made the experimentation possible.
CHAPTER 21
Zoe’s legs dangled around Theo’s neck. She was sitting on his shoulders inside the dark crawl space that Galileo had revealed to them, behind a fake wall in Julian’s bedroom—one that slid open only at the touch of two thumbs placed on invisible sensors. But the space was hollowed out for only two people, so she had to scrunch herself atop Theo’s shoulders. Natalie leaned against Galileo, her knees balled tight, and he lay contorted around her. It was the only way the four of them could fit.
Before, a second had never registered as a unit of time in which experience could dwell. Now Zoe knew better. Each one mounted a struggle against sound, against movement, against panic. It was frightening how elongated time became when you were trapped with the catastrophes roaming like wolves through your mind. You could age years in a minute. Well, she supposed someone else could.
It seemed that hours were passing without any change. Her thighs and rear tingled. She was desperate to stand, to stretch, to take her pill. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if she were to have a repeat seizure. The cool smooth walls confined them. The only way out was to move the wall and expose everyone.
Don’t seize, she told herself. Don’t panic.
Her breath was coming in short gasps. She squeezed her eyes shut, summoning the spirit of Gramps. His raspy voice, his playful smile. His eyes that seemed to see past all her inadequacies straight through to her soul. She hoped that he understood why she had to leave, and that he would forgive her for the first real secret she ever kept from him—for his own benefit.
What would he do if he were here right now? Probably turn this hell into a silly game to pass the time—first one to twitch loses. Why was it that some people had the power to improve a horrible situation with their presence alone?
In the midst of her yearning she heard someone tap on the wall. Six light taps. Her whole body braced. Galileo’s hand flew to her leg with a tacit command, Freeze. Theo’s shoulders tightened, lifting her an inch.
The voice came through muffled but distinct.
“All clear. You can come out now.”
It was Julian’s.
Her first instinct was to cry. Usually she repressed feelings of weakness in front of strangers—so often was she trying to be a strong adult—but now she let all her tension flow out, unchecked. The relief was monumental. Theo chuckled, not unkindly, when her tears dripped onto his face. It was still too dark to see, and she wondered if he was shedding a few himself.
When the wall opened, they scooted out one by one. It was all she could do not to race through the house flipping cartwheels. All that glorious space! She tried to contain herself as Galileo restored the wall to its original position. Natalie hugged Theo, as Zoe danced in circles around them.
Galileo turned to Julian and put a hand on his shoulder.
“How are you? Okay?”
Zoe stopped twirling to listen, chastising herself. How could she not have asked him that right away? Part of behaving like an adult was showing empathy to others, unlike kids, who tended to be interested only in themselves.
“Fine,” Julian said, smiling. “They leave to look in forest.”
“Then I wish them luck,” Galileo said. “They’ll need it.”
“It was tight fit, sí?”
“You might say. But it served its purpose. See, you thought we’d never need it.”
“You should have seen us,” Natalie added, beginning to chuckle.
“Good thing no one farted,” Theo said to Zoe. “Especially you.”
She giggled, smacking him. “Gross!”
Galileo let them indulge their amusement, but he didn’t crack a smile. Instead he typed away on his cell phone.
“Oh, lighten up,” Natalie said, poking his arm. “You can’t be above a fart joke.”
“Maybe if we were off the hook. But they’re just going to search even harder.
Next time we might not be so lucky.”
Zoe’s giddiness evaporated. She didn’t like the severity of his expression. It reminded her of the look on her father’s face when her mother received her diagnosis of cancer—a look that had been indelibly seared into her memory.
“So what do we do?” Natalie asked.
“Get out of here ASAP.” He waved his cell phone. “Remember our cop friend? He’s parked in the garage right now in a rental car, waiting for us.”
“Great! What are we doing? Come on!”
“There’s apparently a police blockade at the exit to the main road. Every passenger is being checked for ID.”
Zoe felt her face crumple. Why did things have to be so hard? This was all her fault. If she hadn’t forgotten her pill at home and had a stupid freaking seizure, no one would have been able to track them. All she wanted was to get to the compound so Natalie could get on with the research. Gramps couldn’t wait forever.
“Now what?” Natalie said in a low voice.
He hesitated. “There’s a way, but I don’t want to force it on you”—he looked at Zoe—“especially not in your condition.”
“I’m fine,” she declared, annoyed. “Try me.”
He seemed reluctant to explain, rubbing his temple as if it ached. “You’ve already had a seizure. We could take our chances and spend the night, wait it out.”
She shook her head. “I’ll feel so much better if we can just get out of here.” Then she remembered how she had been insensitive to Julian, so she turned to him. “No offense, you know.”
He waved a hand. “Better for me. I no want to get in trouble.”
They all looked at Galileo.
“Well,” he said, “you three would have to squeeze into the trunk. It should be less than five minutes altogether, but it won’t be pleasant.”
Zoe closed her eyes. The thought of entering another dark, trapped space made her want to sob. When she opened them, she saw that Natalie was shaking her head. Theo looked too exhausted to react, or maybe he was just the type of guy who didn’t show fear. It was after midnight. They had been traveling for some fourteen hours.
“And where will you be?” Natalie asked.
“In the passenger seat. I have a federal badge.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“Friends in high places,” he said, as if that were a satisfying answer. Zoe stared at his angular face in profile, wishing she could crack even one of the mysteries that surrounded him. Who was he, really? Why was he risking so much? And how did he cope with the pressure? Maybe the Network had already invented some kind of drug to help normal people become extraordinary. If so, she could pretend she’d taken it, too.
“Can you even breathe in a closed trunk?” Theo asked.
“It won’t be totally closed. I’ve done it before. The trick is to stay calm and not hyperventilate.”
“I don’t know,” Natalie said. “It seems risky. What if they search it?”
“What if they search the house again? Next time they’ll be more careful. I don’t know what prints we might have left around here.”
“I’m in,” Zoe announced, surprising everyone with her sureness, herself most of all. She forced a smile. This was no time for cowardice or indecision. If there’s a job to be done, just do it.
Galileo shot her a grateful look, and she could tell he understood the level of bravery she’d had to summon from deep down, where Gramps’s soul had left its imprint on hers.
“All in?”
Theo eyed her with a new respect. “If she is, so am I.”
Zoe tried to contain a grin as a warm flush crept into her face.
Natalie put her arms around them both and narrowed her gaze at Galileo.
“There’s nothing on this earth more precious than these kids.” At the last word Zoe stiffened, but Natalie didn’t seem to notice. Her voice was trembling with emotion—and menace. “I’m trusting you to understand that.”
CHAPTER 22
In the trunk, Natalie’s breathing quickened as the car slowed.
The checkpoint.
She was lying in the fetal position with Theo and Zoe scrunched on either side of her. Their warm bodies pressed against hers, making pools of sweat at each point of contact. Theo’s knees bent into her back. Zoe, being spooned, had pulled her elbows in tightly at her sides. They jutted into Natalie’s ribs like tiny spears. The ceiling of the trunk loomed several inches above their faces, so close that she wondered if a coffin would be spacious in comparison. Unlike the cool crawl space, the air here was stuffy and reeked of gasoline fumes from the tailpipe.
It was dark except for a razor-thin edge of light visible around the perimeter, the broken seal that allowed them to breathe. From the outside, it was impossible to tell that the trunk wasn’t fully shut. She knew that if they started to suffocate, she could push it open all the way—but that would mean instant capture. Not a last resort she wanted to use.
The car stopped, jolting them into one another. She felt Theo’s hot breath on her scalp and Zoe’s waif-like body tensing against hers.
The trick was to stay calm.
“Almost there,” she whispered. If being a mother had taught her anything, it was that comforting others was the most soothing way to comfort yourself. She tightened her arms around Zoe, drawing her even closer. The sweet scent of her hair was an antidote to the noxious odors of gas and sweat, like cherry blossoms on a spring day. Innocence, youth, beauty. She concentrated on imagining a world in which those precious attributes were sustainable, a world she was determined to make real. A sharp ache pinched at her temples. If only she could endure a little longer. How bad do you want it, she goaded herself. All the years of studying, the thousands of hours in the lab, the lack of complete attention to Theo, the loss of her marriage—yes, Nick had cheated, but hadn’t she pushed him away?—all in the service of her relentless search for that powerful gene.
And—as far as she could tell—the proof was an inch away.
Sweat dripped from her cheek onto Zoe’s hair. Natalie didn’t know how much longer they could hold out. The oxygen in the trunk seemed to be thinning. Each breath was less and less effective. She gulped, expanding her lungs with fumes, then choked out a cough, tried again, choked again. Why were Zoe and Theo able to breathe so steadily? In a surreal moment of detachment, she saw what was going to happen—she alone was going to suffocate. Unless. All around, the fresh night air was seeping in, taunting her to throw open the trunk and inhale a greedy breath.
But how could she devastate Theo? Her returning to jail and outing Galileo in the process would leave him with nothing. It was getting harder to think straight. Her brain throbbed, thoughts blurred. Lucidity receded like a tide, washing away all but the immutable pearl of her soul, her love for her son. No lab and no gene in the world could tempt her to abandon him.
She was moments away from giving in to the blackness when his arms wrapped around her.
“Breathe, Mom,” he whispered. “You’re just panicking.”
I love you, she wanted to say, but didn’t have the breath. All she wanted to do was stand in a wind tunnel and suck in the coldest, freshest air of her life. Instead she inhaled the stuffy gas fumes, trying not to choke. Why wasn’t the car moving?
“That’s right,” he said. “Nice and easy.”
The authorities were probably searching the car. Soon they would open the trunk and then the whole charade would be over. It was taking too long. Something was wrong. Had Galileo been caught?
Then the car lurched forward, picking up speed with each turn out of the neighborhood. No sirens could be heard, no signs of pursuit. The whine of the engine crescendoed until all they could hear was the roar of the car, as if they were encased in its very core. They accelerated until Theo and Zoe were rolling and jostling her at every bump, but she wasn’t bothered. By the time they reached peak speed, she knew they were on the open highway, a straight shot through the unsuspecting night to freedom.
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nbsp; They emerged from the trunk at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere. No houses could be seen in any direction, just wide open fields under the starry night sky. Zoe clutched Galileo in relief, her short arms barely reaching around his back, while Natalie looked on with tenderness and a hint of envy. How she wished to fall into a man’s arms and be held. But propriety dictated that adults didn’t give in to such whims.
As if reading her mind, Theo pulled her close, and with a slight shock she noted that he was not so young anymore. He was a head taller than she was, and broad through the chest, his shoulders muscular and strong. What had happened to the scrawny teenager she knew? Was there no end to his growth spurt? It hardly seemed possible that this handsome man-child had come out of her body eighteen years earlier.
“You saved me,” she confessed, leaning on his shoulder. “I was freaking out in there.”
“I just got you out of your head,” he replied. “I never knew you were claustrophobic.”
“You weren’t supposed to.” She gave an abashed smile. “I’ve tried so hard not to pass my quirks on to you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are there more?”
“Oh, you have no idea,” she joked. Galileo shut the trunk and turned to them, with Zoe beaming at his side. The car was a silver Nissan sedan with Ohio plates, utterly ordinary. Through the passenger window, Natalie saw the officer friend of the Network sitting in the driver’s seat, still wearing his cop’s uniform. She shuddered to think where they might be without his cooperation. “I can’t believe you pulled it off.”
Galileo smiled; the lightheartedness had returned to his eyes. “We should be fine now.” He looked down at Zoe, who was hanging on to his arm. “You got your pills with you?”
“Right here.” She held up her backpack.
“Good girl.”
“How much longer will it take to get there?”
“About three days. But I’m going to drive through the night and see if we can’t get there faster. I’m guessing you guys would like a rest already.”
They all nodded. Even Theo, who was such an adrenaline junkie that he had once gone skydiving without Natalie’s permission.