by Susan Adrian
Lucas runs his hands through his hair, his eyes huge. “They’ll get us,” he whispers. “Smith will always take me back.” I pat his arm, trying to be comforting. I want to protect him so badly. All of them.
“He won’t,” I say. “We’ll do it.”
“It is time,” Dedushka says. “Let us go.”
We go, a little line of escapees. Dedushka and Myka lead, then Mom and Lucas. I take the rear. We hug the walls, ready to duck into rooms if we see anyone. With all of us together, even the densest soldier is going to know we aren’t where we’re supposed to be. We twist and turn, following a course I’m glad I didn’t have to figure out myself. It seems like ages. Everything tonight feels stretched, like time isn’t following the usual rules.
There are footsteps behind us.
“Someone’s coming!” I whisper. I try a door, peek in. It’s a sleeping room, a soldier’s, with soldier’s gear hanging neatly on a rack, the bed made up. Not locked from the outside. “Everyone in here.” I usher them in as fast as I can, but there’s no time for me….
I let the door close just as Liesel comes around the corner. We both stop, staring at each other. Then she crosses in two steps and gives me a quick hug. I stand perfectly still. Liesel’s never hugged me before. Ever. It’s bizarre.
“You’re okay?” she asks. She steps back. “We need to go get your family.”
“I’ve got them safe.” I don’t tell her where, yet. I never know just how far to trust her. “How’d you get out?”
She laughs. “Persuasion. I heard a call to the front entrance…so Smith is here? Now?”
“Yeah. He and Dad are going to battle it out.”
“Good God. I haven’t seen Gareth Smith in a long time.”
The door behind me opens, and Myka pokes her head out. “Oh, it’s you. We need to go, Dedushka says.”
Liesel tilts her head. “You’re going out the hatch?”
I nod. There’s supposedly an escape hatch in the roof and a ladder right around the corner from us, like the one we went up in Dad’s last base.
“All right then,” she says. “It’s just up here.”
She starts walking, her always-brisk pace, and we all fall in behind. I can hardly believe that she’s helping us escape, when she’s the one I was escaping from before. But she’s not cautious enough. She’s not creeping, like we were. She’s barreling like she’s in charge.
“Slow down,” I say, panic suddenly shooting into my veins. “We have to look…”
She turns the corner and runs straight into one of Smith’s men, a Jones. There’s the ladder, pulled down in the middle of the corridor in front of us, but they must’ve known about it too. There’s this Jones—he grabs Liesel’s arm—and one at the bottom, looking up.
And I’m too close. He sees me too. So much for that brilliant plan. Lucas was right.
All right, it was never a brilliant plan. It was a hope and a prayer, and if Liesel hadn’t been charging ahead, we might have done it.
I turn. Myk and Mom and Dedushka and Lucas stop short, still hidden, their eyes shining with naked fear. “Go!” I say, hoarse. “Find somewhere to hide!”
Before they take two steps the Jones comes around the corner, holding a gun high. “Freeze! All of you, get over here.” There’s a pause, where you can see each of them decide if they have any choice. Then they shuffle over, staying by the wall. I move too. Lucas looks like he’s trying to blend into the wall. Myka stays behind me.
Smith himself drops down to the floor, brushes off his suit, and eyes us. “How perfect! Here you all are, wrapped up and ready like Christmas presents.”
My nightmare begins again.
52
RACHEL
I Won’t Give Up by Jason Mraz
I park the car in a lot not too far from the base with a bunch of other cars. Big, nondescript. Probably every single one of them government vehicles. This junky old car will stand out, but it doesn’t matter. Hopefully we’ll be gone by then.
I shut off the engine and let the silence fill in. Stare out the window at the dark hills around me, while I figure out what I should do now.
Do I want to follow Smith into the base? And then have to find my way out again, or be stuck in there as leverage or bait?
I cradle my broken hand, relive the moment when Smith snapped it. I close my eyes and shudder. It would be brave to do that, I guess. It would be adventurous. But I’m not going to go that far unless I have to. It’s not smart, not this time.
Discretion is the better part of valor. Falstaff said that in Henry the Fourth part 2, and people mocked him for it, for being a coward. I wrote a paper about it, sophomore year. But I get it now. It doesn’t make sense for everyone to jump into the fire. Someone has to be the safe one, the one to pull everyone else out.
I wish I could see what was going on in there, that I had a power like Jake’s. But I put a brake on that thought right there. Not after what I’ve seen, what I’ve been through. What all of us have been through. Even if someone offered me an amazing power like invisibility or instant travel, right now, with no side effects and no strings attached, I wouldn’t take it. I’m perfectly happy to be the normal one, thanks.
Jake still has his power, since he tunneled to me. I thought I saw him take the serum, when they took him in. Either I was wrong or it didn’t work.
That makes me a bit sad, after all we did to find it. After Vladimir’s death. What was it good for?
What was any of it good for, except trying to keep Jake—and then all of us—free and safe? No, there’s more than that. We need to keep power out of evil hands. If Jake’s power, or Lucas’s, is out there, and the solution isn’t taking a serum to get rid of it, then we need to make sure it’s only used for good purposes.
I don’t have a power. I’m barely functioning, after hiding in the woods, after being tortured by Smith and his men. But I can still do something. I’ll be the witness, and the getaway. I’ll watch the entrance and see them when they come out (not if). Then I’ll bring them all up here somehow, Abby and Myk and Jake and Dedushka and Lucas, cram them in this car, and drive the hell out of here, no matter what we leave behind.
I can do that. I will.
53
MYKA
Break Free by Ariana Grande
Mom gasps, loud, and Lucas makes a sound like an animal. Gareth Smith, here. I can’t believe it. I’ve heard so much about him—and seen Lucas’s reactions to just the idea of him coming. But I’ve never seen him before.
Jake jumps in front of me, his arms spread wide like a shield. I can still see Mr. Smith, though, under his arm.
He looks tired, like he hasn’t slept for a while, and he has a big purple bruise on his cheek. He’s neat, though. He’s in a suit, all perfectly pressed, clean-shaven and with his hair slicked back. Like he wasn’t just torturing Rachel hours ago. The way Jake described him in the tunnel, breaking her finger…I stare at him. He must be a psychopath. Unfortunately, once a psychopath is fixated on something, it’s really hard to get him to move to something else. And the way he’s looking at Jake…he’s definitely fixated. He stops in front of Jake, and his men, four of them now, surround him.
Jake lifts his chin, and Mr. Smith laughs. It’s creepy, low and intense. “Same old Jake. Honestly, when will you learn that you’re my property, and you can never escape that?” His voice is low, almost soothing. He reaches out and strokes Jake’s jaw, with one finger. I tense. Now? I run a finger over the stun gun in my pocket. I found it in that last room we were in, the soldier’s, recharging on his desk. I think I know how to use it. I turned it on. All I have to do is push the button.
“Liesel,” Smith says, nodding. “Lovely to see you again.”
She frowns, but doesn’t say anything.
Smith turns to Lucas. “My boy.” His voice softens more. Lucas cowers back against the wall, like he’s trying to burrow into it. “How could you leave me? I know, it was his fault. He convinced you. We were fine, you
and I, weren’t we?”
I think Lucas is going to cry. I would too. But then he turns and lifts his chin too, like Jake. “I’m not your boy,” he says, loud. “No one owns me.”
Smith laughs again, like he’s pleased. Wow, he’s insane.
“I’m not going back,” Lucas says. “Never.”
Jake steps forward. “Let them go. You and I can talk. Let the rest of them go up the hatch. Now. They need to get out of here.”
No. He can’t do that again.
Smith leans in, his eyes glittering. “You’ve used that gambit before. Too many times—it’s old. They stay, every last one of them, until I’m done, and then all of you come with me. You may have the skills, but I’m smarter than you. I always will be. And you’re mine.” He turns back to tell his men to do something—grab us all, probably.
Now.
“You’re not smarter than me,” I say. I duck under Jake’s arm, the stun gun in my hand. My breath coming fast. I shove it up into Smith’s side, and jam down on the button. It buzzes, and his body dances for half a second, but it doesn’t last long. One of the big guys yanks me away and drags me off to the side, twisting my arm behind my back. It hurts, bad. He pushes it up, up, until I drop the stun gun on the floor and cry out.
I look at Mom, Jake, Dedushka, Lucas, lined up on the far wall. They’re all staring at me, open-mouthed.
But it didn’t even help. Smith just seems more mad now, unfocused, like a wasp whose nest has been smashed. Or a bull, enraged. He turns to me, rears back—I try to cringe away, but the big guy holds me tight—and slams his fist into my face.
There’s an explosion of pain on my cheek, so bad I wonder if he smashed it. Then he fades. Everything fades. The last thing I see is Smith’s face leaning over me, pure rage, as I crumple to the floor.
54
JAKE
I Bet My Life by Imagine Dragons
“You stay AWAY from her!” I howl. Mom screams, and Dedushka growls behind me. But two big guys pin my arms behind my back, and another one slams Dedushka into the wall.
“Gareth. Listen to him,” Liesel says, quiet. “You don’t want to hurt them.” She steps forward, so she’s close to Smith. “You don’t want to—”
“Shut up!” he snaps. “You don’t know what I want. And you don’t get to tell me what to do anymore.”
I strain against the arms holding me, but can’t move. Mom braves it and goes to Myka on the floor, pulling her into her lap. No one stops her. Myka’s still out. You can already see the bruise blooming on her cheek. It’s the same place as the one on Smith’s, where I hit him. I bet he did that on purpose.
I’m going to kill him. Rip him in tiny, painful pieces. And then I’m going to find some place for Myka to hide so no one can hurt her again.
Smith laughs. “I told you I’m smart. Smart enough to figure out your little plan, and circumvent it. Why would you invite me here? Hmmm, distraction? Maybe? Find another entrance then. Find where you were going out.”
I scowl, still tugging uselessly.
“Tell me, then,” Liesel says, still low. “What do you want here? Surely it’s not your grand plan to be hitting little girls.”
“Him.” His voice is oddly high, breathless, as he points at me. And Lucas. “And him. You can’t have them. I know what they can do, both of them, and they’re mine. I’ll take that one—” He points at Myka’s still form. “As part of the bargain.”
I yank again, feeling stupid tears welling in my chest. “That’s not going to happen.”
Liesel stands very still, a foot away from Smith. “If that’s truly what you want, you can let the rest of them go, can’t you? There’s no reason to keep them here. Let them escape while they can.”
“No one is leaving.”
Dad. Because this wasn’t bad enough. He stands in the hallway, feet apart and fists down like he’s ready for a brawl. About twenty soldiers are lined up behind him, guns pointed at Smith.
Smith smiles, unbelievably. It even looks real. “John! How lovely to see you again. How long has it been? Five years?”
Dad clenches his jaw, but doesn’t reply. I swear he’s so absorbed in looking at Smith—all of them are—that we could just sneak out past them.
But not really. I move, and Dad’s attention snaps straight back to me.
“What were you trying, Jake?” he asks softly. He has the gall to sound hurt. Like I’ve betrayed him by trying to get my family away.
Myka moans, her head still on Mom’s lap. “Let them out of here,” I try again, desperate. “Mom, Myk, Dedushka, even Lucas. You don’t really need them, either of you. Let them go, right now.”
Lucas, still and silent until now, steps forward. His chin is trembling. “I’ll stay too. Let the rest of them go.” He looks young, rumpled. But unbelievably brave. I know how scared of Smith he is.
I still don’t know him—I simply haven’t had enough time with him. But I’m proud he’s my brother.
“I told you,” Dad says. “NO ONE is leaving.”
“You’re wrong there,” Smith says. “He is.” He nods to the guys holding me, and one of them flips out a gun before the soldiers can react. I hear the click, feel the hard barrel press against my temple. I close my eyes. My hands start shaking. The last time this happened I was in Eric’s body, pretending to hold a gun on myself. This is real.
“Any move toward me or mine, I will kill him,” Smith says, almost gleeful. “Well, Jones here will. That beautiful brain, destroyed forever. And none of us want that, do we?”
“He will,” I whisper. “He killed Dr. Milkovich, for no reason.”
I open my eyes. I can’t look at Mom, staring up at me from the floor. Or Dedushka next to me, though I feel both their gazes, as heavy as if they’re touching me. But I look at Liesel, watching carefully. Then at Dad, his face slack with horror.
I guess Dad does care. Now that I have my powers back, at least.
“Orders, sir?” the soldier at Dad’s elbow asks, gruff. They still have their guns raised, but that one shifts, so it’s pointing at the guy holding me, instead of at Smith.
Dad doesn’t answer. He shifts his feet, staring at me, then Smith. Who’s staring back at him. It’s like he truly doesn’t know what to do.
Smith smiles again, slow. “Jacob and I are going to go back up now, up to the fresh air. And you, Lucas, my boy. And the girl. And then you’re going to let us out of this place.” He looks around, dismissively. “Fine. You can have the rest of them. Consider it a parting gift.”
“Sir?” the soldier repeats. But Dad seems frozen, unable to move.
“It was nice doing business with you,” Smith goes on. “And I’m not going to sell him back to you, not this time. Now that I know how very valuable he really is.” He laughs. “He can control people, did you know that? Think what I can do with that!”
Smith moves backward, toward the ladder. The two holding me drag me forward, stumbling, the gun still pressed to my head. Another one grabs Lucas.
I look at their faces, each of them. Mom, her eyes big and scared. Myk, eyes still closed, sprawled on the floor. Dedushka, too quiet. What is Dedushka thinking?
Dad looks like he’s having his heart ripped out. But he also looks helpless. Small. “Stand down,” he says, low. His soldiers stand up straight and lower their guns. Smith’s guys drag me farther.
But they’re busy dragging me, not paying attention. I stuff my hand in my pocket.
“Stop,” Liesel commands. Oddly, the guys—even Smith—stop. She steps across, looks me in the eye. “I can’t let you go like this, Jacob. We’ve been through too much together. It was you and me from the beginning, wasn’t it?”
The gun presses tighter against my head. I think it’s making a mark. He’s getting nervous.
She steps in front of me, to Smith. “I can go with you, if you’re willing. I know how he works now. I can help.”
I have a moment of thinking she’s gone completely insane, but realize she’s distr
acting him. So I can feel in my pocket. So I can awkwardly poke the right ziplock bag open, and pull a cuff link into my hand.
I close my eyes and dive into him as fast as I can.
I hear something going on around me, some disturbance, but I can’t stop to see what it is. I have to keep going.
Smith. I skip past the location, fill him as quickly as I can. He’s bubbling with nerves. I can feel it thrumming in his blood, all the way to his fingers. I focus, really look at what’s going on. The goons are still tugging me and Lucas. Dad is watching, still quiet. Mom and Myk are on the floor. Mom’s crying, though Myk is starting to stir. Liesel is watching me, Smith.
And Dedushka is wobbling, blood trickling from a hole in his shoulder.
*
I almost come out of it right there, with the shock. I feel Smith’s exhilaration, and I almost can’t stand it. What happened, in those seconds I was tunneling? What did Dedushka do?
But I know, right? He provided distraction. He knew what was going on too—he would see right through Liesel, and me—and decided to help, so Smith couldn’t stop me.
And got himself shot.
I want to run to him, make sure he’s okay, that he doesn’t go into shock. I want to help him, to stop the bleeding.
But I can’t.
I have to be Smith.
I take control of Smith’s arms and legs, his voice. “That’s it,” I say, like he would. Sounding tired and annoyed. “You’ve messed everything up, old man. Now I want all of them.”
Mom gasps, but Liesel and Dad are both blank-faced. Dedushka smiles. He was right. He knows it’s me.
“Come on,” I snap. “You’re slow. Get the little one up. You—” I point at Liesel. “Get the old man. They’re all coming with me, the whole family.” I meet Dad’s eyes. “Except you. You can stay here and rot, John. You can imagine your whole family, somewhere else, working without you.”