Vagabond Circus Series

by Sarah Noffke

  I love this girl with my entire being, he thought, forgetting that they were linked. And although he hadn’t sent the message to Zuma she still felt it shimmer from his open thoughts. Even though she only sensed it like an inkling of an idea, she knew Finley well enough to know he’d really had that thought. She found she was smiling into his chest. It was an uncontrollable expression she couldn’t push away.

  Let’s go, she said in her mind to him.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The pair landed in a long concrete corridor. It was dark, but light from the outer warehouse rooms streamed in at angles. The smell of mold and decay assaulted Zuma’s nose at once. Then she felt the slump of Finley against her body and looked up suddenly.

  What is it? she said in his mind, sensing his fatigue like it was her own.

  He stood taller and shook his head, dispelling the worry. It’s nothing, he said to her. Finley was lying and she saw it in the micro-expressions on his face and shoulders, but decided to ignore it.

  He dispelled the fatigue. Finley’s eyes were sharp, taking in the dark space around them. It was empty. Doors lined the area, all bolted shut and coated in a layer of rust.

  Now what? Zuma said, stepping back from Finley, but he tugged her body back close to his.

  Something’s wrong, he said in her mind, his senses trying to decipher the stillness around him.

  Wrong? How? she wondered to him. It’s perfectly silent.

  Exactly, he said. There are no sounds.

  What should we be hearing? Zuma said over the link.

  Kids, he said simply.

  You mean the sound of suffering, she said.

  His harsh eyes flashed on her. Zuma, I told you only to take what I give you.

  I’m sorry, she said, still holding onto him. It was so strongly laced in your message. I didn’t steal it.

  He dismissed her and stepped away, breaking their embrace. We’re going to walk instead of teleporting for a bit. I have to figure out what’s going on here and it may not be safe to appear in one of the interior rooms. If the kids aren’t here then they are probably in one of those central spaces, he said.

  And that’s where Jack’s being kept? In the center of the warehouse? she said in his mind.

  Probably, he answered.

  So if the kids are all there too what does that mean?

  It means we’re screwed, Finley replied back, a look of real worry in his eyes.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  The long concrete and metal corridor reminded Zuma of the storage facility where her parents kept their skis and snow gear. There were doors that swung open, but most were the roll-up kind. And at the bottom they were secured with combination or keyed locks. The corridor darkened where it turned and then there was another long row with doors.

  Finley moved with his shoulders tensed, but Zuma spied the fatigue again written in his every move.

  What’s kept behind these doors? she said in his mind.

  He paused and turned and looked at her with an expression that said, “How haven’t you guessed this yet?”

  Kids, Finley said plainly.

  Oh, she said, and then her eyes were suddenly bolted with a tortured expression. Three times she tried to gulp down whatever was suddenly lodged in her throat. Finally when she did she pulled her gaze forward.

  They began to move again at a pace that filled Zuma with a foreboding dread. Farther down the corridor she spied something dark overhead. The girl halted, realizing it was an object hanging from the ceiling. She squinted through the darkness trying to discern what it was and if it was one of these traps Finley had warned her about. He halted, realizing she wasn’t at his side.

  What is it? he said silently.

  Catching the line of her vision he turned back to figure out what she was staring at. Zuma spied his muscles in his back shiver slightly. It’s nothing, he said but his voice had a coldness to it. He reached out and tugged on her. Stay close.

  As Zuma neared the object she realized it was a chain hanging from a beam. The sudden breath she sucked in made Finley spin around to face her. Her eyes were pinned on the concrete under the chain which resembled a noose. The gray concrete under it was stained red.

  Finley’s eyes rested on the faded stain and then pulled away. Come on, he said in Zuma’s head.

  She didn’t budge. What happens here? she said, pointing at the menacing chain.

  Finley didn’t look at it. It’s where Knight makes examples of kids who don’t follow orders.

  He hangs them there? Zuma asked.

  Yes, but not always by their neck. It depends, Finley said over the link.

  Depends on what? Zuma said, her voice frantic in his head.

  Finley sighed visibly. On how well they endured the first two rounds of punishment.

  Two rounds? Zuma asked.

  Yes, this is the third round. We’re supposed to be strong and withstand punishment without being affected, Finley said matter-of-factly in her head.

  You mean without crying? Zuma said.

  He nodded.

  So if a kid cries? she dared to ask.

  Then they move on to the next round of punishment, Finley said simply.

  Oh. Were you ever hung up there?

  He shook his head. I was never moved past round one.

  Zuma bit down on her lip. In her mind she saw the three long scars that covered Finley’s back. Did he receive those in round one of a punishment? And how was it that he didn’t show an emotion as he was whipped? Zuma was suddenly breathless. She could hardly believe how strong Finley was, but he was real. Real and beautiful and stood right in front of her with haunted eyes.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Zuma and Finley stepped without making a sound through the corridor. They rounded a corner and Finley tensed. He stopped and Zuma, sensing it, paused just behind him. She could smell him, the scent of soap mixed with his chemistry. It alone twisted her stomach and she hated it.

  Something isn’t right, he thought.

  What do you mean? she said.

  There’s not the normal guards, he said. There’s no traps. None of the ones left to catch a kid trying to escape.

  Isn’t that a good thing? Zuma asked.

  I don’t know, he said, sliding up to an open door, and then using his speed he whipped his head around the corner and then back. It’s clear, he thought and she sensed the unease in the statement.

  Why is that weird? Zuma asked.

  Because for one, the door is open. And secondly, usually there’s at least five kids in that room, he said.

  That room? she countered.

  All of these rooms, he said silently.

  She stepped around him and entered the eight foot by eight foot space. The concrete floor was stained with red and yellow and brown in places. There were cuffs on the wall held there by chains.

  Is this where Knight puts the children when they disobey? she asked, pointing at the chains.

  Finley, who was just behind her, nodded his head sharply. That’s round one, he said.

  Again Zuma’s mind forced her to imagine Finley chained in a place like this. Whipped. And forced not to make a sound from the punishment. You spent a lot of time in a room like this, didn’t you? she asked him, not sure if she could bear the answer, but knowing she needed to understand. More and more she needed to know his truth, the one he held onto and hid in his mind.

  Yes, he said simply, his eyes on the cuffs. His teeth furiously biting into his bottom lip.

  I don’t understand, Zuma said in his mind. This is where he punished kids, five at a time?

  No, this is one of the rooms where Knight keeps kids, five at a time. Punishments can happen anywhere, Finley said, pulling his gaze away from the wall.

  Wait, you lived in this room or one like it? she said, rotating on her feet, noticing how bare the space was. There was nothing in it, just drains and chains. No beds, no possessions, nothing.

  Finley nodded and Zuma wasn’t sure how one movem
ent could traumatize her soul. This room wasn’t a place where a child should grow up, crowded beside four other children.

  How long each day were you in here? she asked, again needing to know more about his pain. It was a sick necessity, but she wasn’t whole without it.

  It depended. I was kept in a room like this when not training or stealing, Finley said and now his eyes were on her, watching as Zuma soaked in this information. His history.

  Her eyes roamed over the walls, which were cold and covered in dirt. Since when? How long did you live in a place like this? she asked.

  Since I was seven, Finley said over the link. I spent ten years in this room or others like it with various other kids. He moved us around so we didn’t form friendships, not that anyone was really friendly.

  Zuma felt weird having this conversation when there was a mission and so much uncertainty in this place, but Finley didn’t appear to be rushing her away since the compound appeared deserted. And he was finally answering her questions. It was like he was forced to be face to face with this place. So Knight just locked you in a room when you weren’t working, knowing you couldn’t get away? she mused in her mind, half to herself.

  Actually we never knew when it was locked or not. That made it so we were always trying the door, hoping he’d unlocked it. That’s why I thought the corridor was too quiet. Usually you’d hear the doors of several rooms being tried over and over again, Finley said.

  Zuma wondered at once what that would sound like. It would be a cacophony of rattling and never ending based on the number of doors and rooms. Finley must be haunted by the rattling of doors in his head. She would be, if she was him.

  At random times, Finley continued, Knight would take off the lock and we could eat if we could find the food somewhere hidden in the compound or go to the bathroom if we could find the key to it, Finley said.

  Knight played cruel mind games on them. Locked kids away, punished them for not being strong enough, and made them constantly pursue a locked door until it released. The way Finley grew up wasn’t digestible to Zuma. But she knew he was telling the truth.

  He has to be stopped, she said.

  I agree, Finley said in her mind. But right now I have no idea what’s going on here. I think there’s people still in the compound somewhere, but I don’t know where and I don’t know why these rooms are empty. Maybe they’re all in the large training area or somewhere else for a special purpose, but something isn’t right.

  And then, as if cued, the door at the back of the corridor slammed open.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  With super speed Finley yanked Zuma behind the swinging door, covering her body with his own. He pinned her to the wall, guarding every part of her with a piece of himself. She felt his heart galloping in his chest. His face right up against hers was warm. His pulse in his neck beat wildly.

  Shhh, he said in his mind.

  The open door at his back blocked him from view of anyone in the corridor. Through the crack between the door and the wall, not much could be seen in the blackened hall. And then the sound of bare feet marching through the hallway drew closer. It was a rhythmic sound. One foot and then another slapping against concrete. Again and again. A chorus of feet. But no other sounds.

  Zuma sucked in one of Finley’s breaths since he was so close, his eyes trained on her.

  What’s going on? Zuma said in his mind.

  I don’t know, he said back.

  Are those kids? she asked.

  Yes.

  Where are they going?

  Maybe through the corridor to the open warehouse, Finley said silently. Or maybe filing back into these rooms.

  Her eyes widened at the thought.

  She grabbed onto Finley’s waist with a new urgency. Just in case we need to teleport, she said.

  He nodded and slid in closer to her. I won’t teleport us, though, until I have to, since I’m not certain that where I’ll be moving us will be safe. Let’s just wait, Finley said.

  Zuma agreed with a nervous nod.

  The sound of feet marching beside them in the corridor outside their room continued. Finley waited for the last of them to file into the room they occupied since it was at the far end. He prepared himself to do whatever it took to protect Zuma. And still he didn’t understand why the kids were being moved. The sound of the feet started to fade. This signaled Finley’s adrenaline to ramp up. His time to act would be any second. And he couldn’t count on the kids assigned here to keep quiet when they saw Zuma and Finley hiding there. Keeping secrets was punishable by extreme measures. He’d have to knock the kids out if Zuma and he couldn’t make it out by teleporting, which was doubtful to him based on his energy levels. And they were so deep inside the warehouse. All Finley could do was move Zuma and himself to another potentially dangerous room. Finley didn’t feel absolutely prepared for what would come next. These strange, off-routine happenings in Knight’s compound were throwing him off entirely.

  He slid in near to Zuma, sucking in a breath of hers. She pulled him in closer, wrapping her arms tighter around his waist. She made him feel strong. Motivated him in new ways. Get ready to move at any moment, to teleport, he said in his head.

  She nodded, her face brushing his. He knew she was only this close due to survival, but it didn’t matter. And then the last of the feet passed their open door. And to Finley’s shock the marchers continued moving down the corridor. Away.

  Finley leaned back to hear better, his face showing his confusion.

  What is it? Zuma said.

  I don’t know. They sound like they were just passing through, Finley said back over the link.

  Passing through to where? What’s on the other side of here? Zuma asked.

  A lot of rooms. The garage. Training rooms. Torture rooms. An exit. Finley said all this matter-of-factly like he was checking off the areas in his head.

  The sound of the feet dissipated almost entirely. Then a door slammed shut. Zuma jumped, pulling Finley closer to her.

  Sorry, she said, looking up at him.

  He smiled into her hair. Don’t be.

  She studied his focused eyes, only two inches away.

  We should stay out here for a few minutes. See if they come back or anyone else comes through, Finley said. I think we’re safe here if we stay quiet.

  She nodded as he took a step back, taking his hands off her. Zuma then pushed herself off the wall, glad not to be touching it. The girl pulled her hands from his waist. She pinned them by her side where he had his. Finley was still close, a few inches separating them.

  Are you all right? she asked, again spying that fatigue in his eyes and dripping from his features.

  He nodded, the sharp look more pronounced on his face right then.

  I want to say something, Zuma said.

  He tightened his eyes on her. Go on.

  Zuma took a breath, trying to loosen the tension in her chest. I don’t understand everything you’ve done, especially the things revolving around Dave’s death, she said and watched as his eyes fell with defeat. But now at least I know why I wouldn’t understand, Zuma added.

  He lifted his gaze, a look of surprise on his face. Then Finley arched an eyebrow at her. What does that mean? he asked.

  Finley, I can’t even begin to understand how you grew up here, she said, motioning to the concrete room. But more unbelievable is that despite all of this that you grew up in, that you became you.

  This was what he’d been avoiding since the beginning. Showing Zuma who he was and where he’d come from. I don’t want your pity, he said, his eyes haunted.

  And you don’t have it, Zuma said, not deterred by the sudden frustration overwhelming his thoughts. I’m not trying to tell you that I feel sorry for you. I’m trying to tell you that you’re incredible.

  Finley angled his head a little, as though trying to understand her better by looking at her from a different vantage point.

  Zuma lifted her hand, hovering it just beside his face. When
he didn’t move away she pressed the backs of her fingertips to his hairline. I’ve been drawn to you from the beginning, she said, taking her hand and sliding it along the side of his head. He stayed focused on Zuma even as she sewed up the space between them. And she realized she’d been nearing to this place since the beginning. To the place where she loved Finley despite it all. Now that makes sense to me, she said in his head. After seeing where you came from and who you’ve become under the worst circumstances, it explains it all. You’re the most remarkable person.

  Well, it doesn’t explain it all actually. It doesn’t explain why I’m so drawn to you, Finley said.

  No, I guess it doesn’t, she said. And you’re going to have to figure that out for yourself.

  Are you going to give me a chance to do that? Finley asked. Most of his attention was on Zuma, but he was still listening for noises in the corridor.

  She didn’t answer his question; instead, she slid one hand around his neck and the other to the side of his head where she caressed her fingers over his temple. Now that you’ve allowed me in your head I sense more complexity than I thought was possible. You have a lot that goes on in there, she said. More than anyone else I’ve ever known.