Mania

by J. R. Johansson

  “I texted earlier to update Addie, but she didn’t answer. I just called her and it goes immediately to voicemail.” His pitch got a little higher with every sentence. “It might be nothing … but I feel like something’s wrong, Jack.”

  “We’ll go,” I responded immediately, closing the back of the van. “Even if they’re fine, we need to check.”

  When we pulled up in front of the safe house, the hair on my neck stood on end. It was a tiny one-story with faded green siding that wasn’t much to look at even on a good day. But now, even though it looked mostly normal, little things felt strange. The front porch light was on in the middle of the day. Parker’s mom was generally pretty aware of those kinds of things. The front door looked like it wasn’t quite closed. Mostly, though, it just looked too quiet. I parked in the shade of a tree two houses away and hopped out.

  I told myself it was just the fact that I hadn’t been here in a while that made the house look like something was off … but I still motioned for everyone else to stay in the van just in case.

  Finn’s jaw tightened, and I could tell he recognized my concern when he immediately moved to follow me. The look I gave him made him hesitate, but he said, “My sister might be in trouble—and Mia.”

  I would have much preferred to give orders in a situation like this. But for Parker’s sake I tried to explain, even though I sucked at it. “I’ll be right back to get you, Finn. If we’re walking into something dangerous, I’ll be better off alone where I don’t have to worry about you getting yourself—or anyone else—killed.”

  Finn looked slightly offended.

  Mason patted him on the shoulder and pulled him gently back into his seat again. “Go ahead, Jack. I’ll keep an eye on things here.”

  “Thanks.” Ignoring Chloe’s worried look, I turned toward the safe house and made my way as casually as I could around to the back.

  As soon as I saw the back door hanging wide open, I knew something had gone very wrong. Slipping one of my knives from my sleeve, I gripped the hilt tightly in my right palm and moved silently toward the back of the house. Plastering my back to the wall beside the door, I listened for any movement from inside.

  There was nothing but silence.

  I reached out and slowly pushed open the back door. My heart pounded in my ears when the hinges squeaked so loud that anyone in the house should’ve heard it. Moving fast, I slipped into the dark interior. The room was empty, so I ducked behind the tiny dining room table and waited.

  I counted in my head, 1 … 2 … 3 … and listened for the sound of running footsteps. But everything was silent. Standing up, I looked around the room. One of the chairs was tipped over. A barely touched plate of fruit, probably a snack for one of the girls, sat forgotten on the kitchen table. Then I saw the thing that confirmed all of my fears: Mrs. Chipp’s purse and the busted-up burner phone on the kitchen counter.

  Anger and fear moved through my veins like a living, breathing thing. I’d considered this as a possibility, but it had felt unlikely. Why? I didn’t understand.

  Once I’d searched the house, I made my way to the front door when I heard a noise from a hallway closet. Loudly closing the front door, I moved silently back down the hall. Pulling out one of my knives, I braced myself and pulled open the door.

  There was a started scream. I barely had time to raise my arm and block the broomstick coming down hard toward my head. Wrapping my fingers around the broom handle, I twisted it and pulled hard. A pale and terrified Addie came out with it.

  “Addie.” I slipped my knife back into place and tried to slow down my adrenaline-fueled pulse.

  She looked up at me through the hair hanging over her face and breathed my name. “Jack!”

  Then she leapt for me, wrapping both arms around my neck and knocking me back against the wall. Her whole body was trembling, and I awkwardly reached around and patted her back. I was suddenly extremely aware of how much I would’ve enjoyed this moment only a month ago. Now it just felt wrong, like a betrayal of my brother.

  “What happened?” I gently pushed her hair out of her eyes and saw the streaks from tears down her cheeks.

  “A bunch of guys came and they had g-guns. They … they … t-took Mia and Parker’s mom.” Her words came in bursts, like she’d been holding them in and they’d finally fought their way free.

  “How long ago?” My tone was no-nonsense, and it occurred to me, fleetingly, that Parker would’ve been gentler. But I was running out of time, and whenever I looked at the clock, I panicked a little more just thinking about the short time I had left to save him.

  He could teach me how to deal with people all he wanted … after I saved his life.

  “They were here for a little while before they left with them. Asking questions about you. Not long since they left—an hour maybe?” She looked down at the broomstick she’d attacked me with. “I thought you were one of them. I’m sor—”

  “Don’t be.” I shook my head, quick and firm. “You did the right thing. Why didn’t they take you?”

  “I was in the bathroom when they came, and when I heard them … ” Addie stopped and looked down, shame written on her face. “Parker’s mom was yelling questions like she wanted me to hear—she was warning me, so I hid.”

  “Good. That’s exactly what you should’ve done, Addie.” I reached out and lifted her chin until she looked straight at me. “If you hadn’t, then we wouldn’t know what happened. Now we can try to save them. They won’t catch us off-guard on this … and that’s all because of you.”

  Her eyes filled with gratitude and she gave me a shaky nod.

  “Did they say how they found you here?” I frowned, glaring at the not-so-safe house around me like it was to blame.

  “I heard one of them say it was the first place on the chemist’s list … ”

  I swore. “My mistake. I picked this one because it’s the house we never used, but that’s also probably why Dad would choose it as a piece of information to give the Takers when forced.” I felt like an idiot. I should’ve considered that possibility. “I’m sorry, Addie.”

  “Stop.” She shook her head and put an arm around me. “You were only trying to protect us, Jack. No one expects you to be able to predict every move they make.”

  I appreciated her trying to make me feel better, but she was wrong. Predicting every move the Takers made—that was exactly what I’d been working so hard to do for most of my life. It was what I expected of myself—what Dad expected of me.

  As we walked out toward the van, I saw Finn pacing next to it. When he saw Addie, his worried expression broke into a wide grin and he ran over to hug her. His eyes met mine over her shoulder, and it was obvious I wasn’t hiding my own worry as well as I’d hoped.

  “Where’s Mia?” he asked.

  Addie shook her head and closed her eyes.

  “They took her and Parker’s mom.” I spoke the words so she wouldn’t have to. Chloe sagged back against the van like someone had knocked the wind out of her. Libby’s face twisted into a pained grimace. She knew exactly what it felt like to have Takers kidnap people you cared about.

  “Why?” Finn’s face went from fear to anger and caught me completely off guard. “Why do this? They already have Parker. Isn’t that enough?”

  I swallowed hard and simply shrugged, because there were only two reasons I could think of that they would need more hostages. And I couldn’t bring myself to say either of them out loud.

  First: they needed some leverage to convince Parker to do something.

  Second: their first hostage hadn’t survived.

  Fighting back the tight ball of fear in my stomach, I focused on the only thing I could control. It was a Hail Mary pass at best to hope that Cooper would exchange Parker for something other than Eclipse, but I’d take almost anything over sitting here and worrying. “Come on—let’s follow the plan
. We’ll go back to my lab at Parker’s house and finish this formula while we still have a shot at it.”

  Parker’s house was worse than the safe house. They’d been through here thoroughly. The lock on the back door was busted, chairs were turned over, desks were emptied. They’d probably been looking for a clue about where his family was.

  A wasted effort, since apparently they’d had the address they needed already.

  I walked through the house, feeling hopeless. At every turn, the Takers seemed a step ahead of me. I hated it with every fiber of my being—I wasn’t used to being outmaneuvered. Bending down, I picked up a broken picture frame. Shattered glass jutted out and sliced my finger. I turned it over and saw the smiling faces of Dad, Mrs. Chipp, and a very young Parker. I set it carefully back on the table and moved on.

  Every room was the same: everything wrong, broken, and out of place. Every room except my lab, anyway. It was pristine—because God forbid something prevent me from making the precious Eclipse Cooper wanted so badly. I felt a sudden urge to smash up the lab myself. I wanted to break it all, the way they kept breaking my whole life.

  I heard a scratching noise and turned to see Chloe with a broom and dustpan. She had her back to me as she swept up the shards of glass from the floor. I didn’t think she’d spoken a word since we left the safe house. When she turned and caught my eye, her gaze was full of apologies that I didn’t expect or want from her.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I moved into the lab and started prepping to make the formula that would save Chloe—because even if no other Taker was worth saving, she definitely was.

  Libby sat very still as I drew out a small vial of her blood. She kept looking at me like she wanted to say something, and then looking away again. Once I finished putting a Band-Aid on her arm, I met her eyes and then held them as she tried to look away.

  “What do you want to say, Lib?” I sat down across from her and put my hand on top of hers. “Something to confess? Any blood-borne illnesses I should warn the Takers about?”

  A real smile spread across her face as she replied, “I wish.”

  I chuckled and shook my head.

  She hesitated as she watched me, but then apparently decided to go for it because she dove in full-speed. “How can you be doing this?”

  I groaned. “Not this again. Not now. It isn’t helping.”

  “Don’t you see?” Libby gestured down to her arm. “They’re still feeding off of us. Still using us for their own needs.”

  Holding the vial of her blood in my free hand made it hard to argue her point. Still, I shook my head.

  “They’re parasites, Jack,” she hissed. “Always have been, always will be. When will you see that changing the way they use us doesn’t change who they are?”

  “This is different,” I said.

  Libby shook her head. “She’s skewing your mind and you can’t see anything straight.”

  “Maybe she is. Maybe she should be.” I raised my voice a fraction before immediately lowering it again. “How can we lump all of them in one box and say they can’t be different? They can’t change? Would it be fair to say that you’re exactly like all other Builders?”

  Libby groaned and tried to pull her hand free from mine, but I held tight.

  “Fine,” she said, “but how can you even trust her? How can you be sure Chloe isn’t part of everything Cooper is doing?” She gestured with her free hand toward the kitchen. “How do we know she didn’t tell them to go after Parker’s mom?”

  “I trust her.” I squeezed her hand and willed her to believe me while at the same time hoping like mad that my gut instinct about Chloe was right. “She wants to help. That’s all I can say.”

  “I just hope you know what you’re talking about. I hope she hasn’t sucked you into some lie that’ll cost all of us.” Libby didn’t sound like she was hoping for anything good.

  “Do you?” I dropped her hand and placed the vial on the table, standing up in frustration. “Because you sound more like you hope Chloe’s lying. You sound like you hope she proves you right. What you’re hoping for … it would cost me everything. Everything. I hope you understand that.”

  Libby looked like I’d slapped her. “Y-you really feel that strongly about her?”

  “I might … ” I turned my back on her and closed my eyes, rubbing my hands across my face. “It’s confusing. I don’t know.”

  When I moved back to my seat across from her, she had her eyes down, focused on the vial of her own blood. “Why a Taker, Jack? That doesn’t make sense. You’re a Watcher … you should be with someone who can help you. You should be with … a Builder.”

  I smiled and put my hand over hers. “If only the best ones weren’t either my best friend or the girl who’s in love with my brother.”

  Libby leaned back in her chair and sighed, watching me with her huge dark eyes before finally speaking again. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been awful to you lately. I needed someone to blame and you’re here and I knew you wouldn’t hate me for it. I needed someone to kick and you just let me kick you.”

  “Stop.” I interrupted before she could go any further with this train of thought. “You don’t need to be sorry. I understand. I miss Marisol too. Keep kicking me if you need to. I can take it.”

  “I don’t know how I’m supposed to just keep going without her. She was like a mom to me, way more than my real one. How can I just let people that I love go?” Her eyes filled with tears.

  I nodded without speaking, trying not to interrupt her now that she was finally letting some of this venom out that had been poisoning her from the inside for so many days now.

  “I just—I hate them so much, Jack.” She let out an angry growl and then looked surprised at herself. The fury she felt seemed to bubble under the surface. I could see it poking through even when she was trying so hard to control it. “I know I shouldn’t. They can’t control what they are, but it doesn’t matter. I still do. I hate them all and I don’t care if they all die. I want them all to die.”

  It was hard to hear this coming from Libby, not only because she’d always been so happy and bubbly, but because she’d been the rational one of the two of us. Still, I couldn’t pretend not to understand it.

  “I know you do. I felt that way for so long too.” I heard a noise from someone moving through the hallway and lowered my voice. I rubbed my thumb along the back of her hand and tried to think of the right words that wouldn’t offend her but would explain what I was thinking. “What you’re feeling right now is fuel. You’re so mad, and that anger is what’s holding you up and keeping you moving. I get that. I’ve felt it. But at some point you’re going to need more than hatred. You’ll need something more because this isn’t who you are.”

  She watched me with an expression I couldn’t read. I wasn’t sure if she really understood what I was saying or not.

  “It’s never been who you are, Lib. And Marisol wouldn’t ever want you to become that.”

  Libby thought that over for a minute before she got up, gave me a hug, and then walked out. All I could do was hope that at some point my words might eventually sink in.

  I started carefully preparing the ingredients, and Mason came in to assist. We had the adenosine from Mason, and Chloe had gotten the second ingredient, the acetylcholinesterase inhibitor, by slipping into the back room of a small pharmacy to pick up a bottle on the way here. Thankfully, that compound was commonly used on Alzheimer’s patients and wasn’t considered a controlled substance or kept locked up. Last were the vials of Libby’s blood.

  Now we just had to make sure we mixed it all exactly right.

  It was clear from five minutes into our work that Mason knew exactly what he was doing and that Dad had trained him. The way he hummed as he ground an ingredient with the mortar and pestle, squinted with one eye as he adjusted the Bunsen burner, smiled as he held up a beake
r of liquid into the sunlight—it reminded me of working with Dad. The reassurance it gave me was a welcome relief when every time I thought of the time ticking away I felt sick.

  The lab work put me into a kind of focused frenzy that enabled me to zone in on following one step of the preparation after another. I forgot where I was, who I was with—everything but what I was trying to do.

  It was a reprieve from the torture of worrying about my brother and if I might already be too late to save him.

  “Hmm.” Mason looked over the ingredients list again. “So it’s not an injection?”

  “No … ” I double checked my measurement. “For mass consumption purposes, I think Dad designed it to be easy to take. Some of these chemicals should absorb into the bloodstream almost immediately. I think on the whole it should be pretty fast-acting.”

  His only reaction was a simple grunt before he went back to work.

  Mason and I made sure to triple-check every measurement and every step carefully before taking any action. I’d just mixed in the final ingredient and poured the liquid into single-dose glass vials when I turned around and realized that Chloe was sitting in a chair a few feet behind us. I knew she hadn’t been in here the entire time, but from the way she slouched down in her chair with her feet up, it looked like she’d been sitting there awhile.

  “I think I’ll get some fresh air,” Mason muttered, stretching his back as he walked out of the room.

  Moving back, I sat in the chair beside her, trying hard not to stare at the blue liquid in the vials waiting on the lab table. She shifted in her seat, leaning away from me. I wondered if I’d offended her somehow. The dark circles under her eyes were even more pronounced than they had been. Her eyes looked wilder and her skin and lips were paler, making her bright gray eyes stand out in stark and alarming contrast.

  “Are you feeling okay?” I asked, keeping my voice low.