Click.
The lights came back, and Zoey blinked away the white spots from her eyes.
The three Anerak doctors where huddled together by the tank with confused expressions on their flaky and diseased faces.
Doctor Three looked up and then shuffled towards Zoey. He flicked a lever on the wired helmet, and she immediately felt a sting as the pins that had pierced her skull retracted. The doctor removed the helmet and placed it gently on a table nearby.
Zoey stretched her head and neck.
“It’s unfortunate we lost power,” said Doctor Three. “And it pains me that we are left without your dreams. But it’s just a temporary glitch. We’ll have the Dream Purge up and functioning again in no time at all.”
“Great,” mumbled Simon.
Doctor One charged towards Simon, and pointed the remote at his face like a blade. “Did I hear you say something, old man?”
One of his eyes was on Simon, while the other twitched and focused on Tristan.
Simon pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head.
The mad-eyed doctor made a face. Yellow liquid trickled down from his nose and onto his lab coat. “I’ll take these three to the holding cells with the others.”
Others? Zoey cringed at the thought of brainless, starved, and mutilated souls, kept alive only to aid in the mad scientists’ experiments.
“Fine,” muttered Doctor Three. “Give them some Seeder milk. We need them relaxed if we want good dreams. The last human gave us horrible nightmares. I don’t want to experience that again. Yes, it’s better that they rest.”
Doctor One grabbed Zoey roughly by the arm, yanked her off the bed, and then shoved her into Simon and Tristan.
“Follow me this way,” he said and pointed towards the door with the remote. “And no talking if you still want the use of your brains.”
Zoey glanced back. Doctor Two and Doctor Three stood beside a large cauldron she hadn’t noticed before. They were examining what looked like a boiled tibia bone.
They followed Doctor One down the corridor in silence. He stopped before an old oak door with a small opening at the top. He pulled a key from his front coat pocket, and the door screeched loudly as he pulled it open.
“In!” ordered the doctor.
Zoey stepped in first.
She was in a small jailhouse with individual cells separated only by metal bars. The hot stale air smelled of decay and waste, and other things Zoey didn’t want to think about. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling on a stringy wire and cast long shadows. It was nearly impossible to see clearly.
They followed the doctor down the small path between the two walls of cells. A bundle lay at the back of the first cell. When Zoey got close enough, she saw that it was a man. He was lying on his back and staring blankly up at the ceiling. Even in the dim light she could see nasty lacerations where his mouth had been sewn shut with thick black thread. His head had been shaved, and a ring of red, angry blisters from the Dream Purge helmet peppered his scalp.
Uncontrollable hatred rose in the pit of Zoey’s stomach. She hated the doctors even more than Mrs. Dupont.
The cell next to the unconscious man was empty, but the cell opposite was occupied. A woman whose eyes and mouth had been sewn shut lay in a fetal position in a wet puddle on the floor. Her shaved head was bruised and bleeding from puncture wounds, too.
Zoey’s tears cooled her hot cheeks. Were these people from her own world? Had they accidently stepped through a portal? Her knees wobbled, and she struggled to keep from falling.
Another form lay against the far wall in the next cell, but Zoey couldn’t see the face or tell if it was alive or dead. When she looked at her friends’ faces they were grim and angry.
Doctor One led them to the only cell without a decaying body in it.
“This is your new home,” he said as he unlocked the door and pulled it open. “I trust you’ll find it comfortable enough. Get in.”
Zoey, Tristan, and Simon stepped inside without uttering a word. The doctor locked the door.
“I’ll be back later with some Seeder milk,” he said.
His face twisted into a smile. “But don’t get too comfortable. You won’t be alive long enough to enjoy your new home.”
His throaty wet laughter made Zoey want to throw up. He turned on his heels, clicked the lock closed, and left the chamber.
“Is it safe to talk now?” whispered Simon.
Zoey sighed and did her best to ignore the smell. “I think so—”
“Good,” said Simon, and he let out a string of curse words.
“Feel better?” Tristan inspected the small cell closely.
“Yes,” answered Simon. “But I’d feel a lot better with a Big Mac in my belly. If that dream machine doesn’t kill me, I’m seriously going to starve to death.”
“Trust me,” said Zoey as she tried to pull open their cell’s door, “dying of starvation would be a heck of a lot better than what’s waiting for us if we don’t break out of here soon. I don’t even want to know what that milk is—sounds disgusting.”
Her eyes moved to the decomposed and mutilated bodies in the other cells, and she imagined their screams and cries.
“Did the spell wear off yet?” asked Simon hopefully, and then his face fell. “My voice still sounds old, so I guess I’m still a senior citizen. Great.”
Zoey raised her hands awkwardly, careful not to hit Simon’s face with her chains. She rested them on his shoulder.
“Sorry, Simon. I wish I had better news. But look on the bright side, we’re all still alive.”
“Yeah, but for how long?” Tristan walked over to her and raised his wrists.
“If only we could get these collars and shackles off, we’d have a chance. I can’t fight with this thing around my neck. We’re like chained animals.”
“I know. We need to get them off, but how and with what?”
Zoey wrinkled her nose. “It’s hard to concentrate with the dead bodies and the smell—”
“Actually that was me,” said Simon with a sheepish smile. “What? I’m a senior citizen remember? I can’t control my bodily functions.”
Tristan shoved Simon playfully, and Zoey was glad he was feeling better.
“Simon, can you reach your phone?”
Simon wiggled his shoulders until he was able to reach his front pocket and retrieve his phone.
“How much time do we have left?” asked Tristan.
Simon glanced at the phone. “We’ve got about two hours left. It’s not much, but if we can get out of this sewage prison, we still have enough time to find the UECs and blow the portals.”
“Simon, is there a light on your phone?” Zoey had an idea.
“Yeah . . . .”
“Is it really, really bright? Like blinding bright?”
“Of course it’s bright. It’s an LCD light. It’s uber-bright.”
Tristan smiled. “Zoey? What are you planning?”
Zoey looked at her friends.
“Well, I was thinking—the remote that controls the collars, the one that Doctor One has with him all the time, since it powers the collars on and off, it would make sense that there’d be a button on that thing that would remove the collars and these,” she said and raised her shackles.
Simon tried to whistle, but it came out sounding like a cat’s meow.
“Good plan. Just one problem, how do we get our hands on the remote? I mean, I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but you said it. He has it on him all the time. How can we even reach it if we can’t even move our hands?”
“He’s right,” said Tristan. “The moment we move and try something, he’ll activate the collars again.”
He wiped the sweat from his brow with his arm. “I thought I was going to die earlier. I’ve never felt pain like that before.”
“We’re going to blind him with Simon’s phone,” said Zoey.
“We’ll have to be fast. We have to surprise him, and in that nanosecond we can g
rab the remote. We know he’s coming back soon, so we better get ready. We’ve only got one shot at this, so we need to make it count.”
“So . . . I’ll blind him while—”
“I’ll get the remote,” said Tristan.
Zoey had a feeling that the remote was not the only thing he wanted to get.
“Right,” said Zoey. “And I’ll distract him.”
Simon jumped on the spot. “Good plan, Zoey St. John.”
He rubbed his hands together. “Man, it might actually work.”
Zoey knew her plan was farfetched. So many things could go wrong. And if by a miracle they did escape, how would they ever find Director Martin? What could they accomplish without the UEC?
Zoey exhaled deeply and made fists with her hands. “It’s going to work, it has to—”
“Zoey?” A low voice came from behind her.
Zoey’s blood froze.
She searched her friends’ faces, but they hadn’t uttered her name. Very slowly, Zoey turned towards the sound of the voice.
The bundle that Zoey had thought was dead was standing and facing them. It was impossible to see it clearly in the shadows. The figure stood still and did not move.
Zoey inched towards the figure. She couldn’t explain why, but she wasn’t afraid. Something inside told her that it wouldn’t harm her. The slight build and soft voice was female. But who was she?
“Who are you? And how do you know my name?” demanded Zoey.
The woman took a careful step forward, and a shard of light spilled onto her face—
It was like staring in a mirror. Zoey was looking into her own face.
Chapter 18
Reunited
Zoey gasped and staggered back. Her knees weakened, and she couldn’t breathe.
Tristan grabbed her and steadied her.
“Zoey? What is it? Do you know this person?”
The woman stepped closer. Now her face was fully visible between the metal bars. Her head was completely shaved except for a few bright red strands that fell below the ring of bloody, red puncture marks. Her thin, frail, and hollow face still held traces of beauty, and her large green eyes were alert and mesmerizing like precious jewels. Her filthy clothes hung loosely over her thin body like she hadn’t eaten in months. She was clearly weeping at the sight of Zoey. She didn’t look at anyone else, just her.
Zoey couldn’t look away from the woman in the next cell either. It was the face in her dreams, the face on the photograph.
“Zoey? Who is that?” asked Tristan again.
“I know who she is,” said Simon finally. “It’s her. It’s Zoey’s mom.”
Elizabeth glanced briefly at Simon and Tristan, and then her eyes settled on her daughter again.
“My beautiful girl. I never thought I’d ever see you again. The last time I saw you, you were just a little girl staying with the Turner foster family. Now look at you. You’ve grown so tall. You’re a young woman now.”
Simon and Tristan both looked at Zoey, waiting for her to respond. Her lips moved, but no words would come. When she had played out this scene in her head—when she had imagined meeting her mother—she had hugged her mother and kissed her. She had told her all about her abilities and her friends. She hadn’t been a scared little kitten like she was now. It was almost as though she would break the spell or lift the veil from the dream if she moved.
Sensing the awkwardness, Simon stuck out his hand through the bars.
“Simon Brown at your service, Zoey’s mother,” he said proudly.
Elizabeth shook Simon’s hand and smiled. “Please, call me Elizabeth.”
Her voice was soft and kind, as if she hadn’t spent months being abused like a lab rat by the mad doctors.
But still Zoey couldn’t move.
Tristan let go of Zoey gently.
“I’m Tristan Price, Zoey’s—” he hesitated, “—friend.”
He stared at his feet.
And still Zoey didn’t utter a word or move.
Her mother watched her daughter lovingly. Warily, she reached a shaking hand through the bars. “Zoey? Come here.”
It was like someone had cut down her bonds. Finally, Zoey could move. With her heart thundering against her ribcage, she leaped forward and grabbed her mother’s ice-cold hands.
The effect was instantaneous. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she took in a shaky breath. She slipped her hands through her mother’s fingers and squeezed. She desperately wanted to reach out and hug her, but the shackles around her wrists prevented her.
Simon and Tristan backed away, giving them their private moment together.
After a few moments, Elizabeth let go of her daughter and frowned.
“Zoey, what are you doing here? Didn’t you get my message from my friend Muttab?”
Zoey looked into her mother’s eyes. “Yes I did.”
Her mother’s face fell. “So the Agency found you, and you decided to stay, even though you knew your life was in danger.”
Zoey stared quietly into her mother’s face. The same dreaded collar was wrapped around her mother’s neck, just like hers. And when she spoke next she avoided her mother’s eyes.
“I had to. I wasn’t willing to give it up.” She looked up and met her mother’s eyes again. “You don’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like to grow up feeling that you’re a freak. I didn’t have any friends. I had no one to talk to. When the Agency found me, it was like . . . it was like I was finally home.”
Tears trickled down her mother’s face. “I understand, Zoey. I know it was a lot to ask, and I know how angry and confused you must feel right now, but please know I did it only to protect you. I had to hide you from the Agency, from the double agents and those working for Mrs. Dupont. If they had found out who you were and discovered your abilities, they would have used you and then killed you. It was the only way to keep you safe.”
“I know,” said Zoey. “But they still used me—”
“What?” Elizabeth’s eyes grew fierce. “What do you mean?”
“The lovely Mrs. Dupont used me. She used me to set in motion the Great Junction. I tried to stop her, but I couldn’t. And now we face the end of the world because of me.”
Her mother pressed a hand on Zoey’s shoulder.
“Not because of you, but because of her.” She hesitated. “I knew something must have happened when she sold me off to the Aneraks. So she took you instead. She knew you were much more powerful than I ever was. She’s been obsessing about the Great Junction for years. I was a disappointment. She could never open it with me.”
Zoey glanced back at her friends. “And now we’re here to try to destroy the portals.”
“How?” asked her mother.
“With bombs,” answered Tristan. “UECs given to us by our science officer. He got hurt, so he had to stay back at the Hive.”
“So it’s just us,” added Simon happily.
Elizabeth studied Simon for a moment. “Aren’t you a little old to still be in service, Mr. Brown? I’m sure they agency could have found someone else to assist Zoey and her friend Tristan.”
Simon’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God, she thinks I’m an old geezer! But I’m not old! I’ll be fifteen in two months!”
He lowered his voice when he realized he was yelling. “This royally sucks!” he whispered.
Zoey quickly explained how Simon had ingested the potion Muttab had given them. Her mother stared at Simon but didn’t say anything. Zoey wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad one.
Tristan pulled at his collar. His frustration increased with every new try.
“Urgh! If I don’t get this collar off soon, I think . . . I don’t know what I’m going to do. I think I’m going to go crazy!”
“We’re going to get them off,” said Zoey with more determination than she felt. “And then we’re going after Director Martin.”
“There’s an agency director to help us?” questioned Elizabeth. “Is he somewhere near?�
�
The smile on her mother’s face pained Zoey. She shared a look with her friends.
“Not exactly. He’s a traitor. He stole our bag with the UECs in it. We need to find him and get the bag back.”
Elizabeth measured her daughter and her friends. “Are you sure about that? Are you positive it was him?”
“We’re sure,” said the three teens in unison.
“Well, I’m very sorry you all got involved in this mess.”
She wrapped her hands around the metal bars, and Zoey noticed the dried blood and scars on her mother’s hands.
Zoey wrapped her fingers over them. “We’re going to get you out. I promise.”
Elizabeth gave her a weak smile. “The Aneraks are dangerous and mad. I’ve seen horrible things, things that should only exist in nightmares.”
Tears spilled down her mother’s cheeks. “I’ve been a part of their experiments for months. No one has ever escaped. They’re all dead. They’re not about to let us go—”
“That’s right, human,” said a voice behind them.
Before Zoey could even turn around, her collar slammed her against the wall and pinned her there. It was like the collar had been magnetized. She howled in pain and kicked her legs desperately, but the invisible force wouldn’t let go. Her feet dangled in the air like she was a puppet on a string. The cold metal around her neck burned hot as it squeezed tighter. She tried to scream, but her mouth wouldn’t move. She couldn’t even swallow.
She could see that Simon and Tristan were pinned on the wall next to her, struggling with the collars, their mouths open in silent screams, and their eyes wide in absolute terror.
Zoey tried to focus. A shadow moved in front of her eyes.
“Don’t waste your time thinking up of a plan to escape, agents.” Doctor One laughed as he pointed his metal remote at them.
“There is no escaping. What you have is too precious. We want your dreams. And we will have them.”
He unlocked the door to the cell and stepped through. He carried a bottle of white liquid, and Zoey knew it wasn’t milk.
“Leave them alone!”
Zoey she could see that her mother was pinned against the wall in her cell, too.
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