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Authors: Amy Kinzer

BOOK: Ascent
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The rest of the group filters outside. We sit around the pool, discussing the day and what’s in store. We don’t talk about yesterday. Off to lighter subjects. No one wants to think about the tanks patrolling the front of the hotel.

Speaking of Rick, he walks out the door and spots us sitting around the pool. He gives us a wave and grabs a chair, shoving it between Farrah and I. He sits so close to me that his leg brushes mine. A hairy guy leg.

I cringe.

“Dude, I saw you through the window yesterday. What are you? Nuts? Nutso guy? Is that you?”

My response is quiet: “Guns and pedestrians don’t mix.” Even though I’m sure they’re filming everything I do, I keep my voice down just in case.

“Neither does going against the Party.”

I take a sip of my drink. It’s sweating in the Nevada sun. Farrah stretches and pulls her sunglasses over her eyes.

Rick is a live wire though.

“So, who’s going first?” Drops of sweat drip down the side of his face. It’s obvious that my classmates shouldn’t be out here. They look like they’ll melt.

“What do you mean?” Casey asks. She’s moved her chair away from Rick. She’s so close to the edge of the pool I think she’ll tumble into the water.

“Who’s going to be the first to go back? I think it should be me. I’m the most qualified. I’ve been studying time travel my whole life. It should definitely be me.”

Relief washes over everyone’s faces. No one is dying to go first. Only one other person has tried going through the vortex.

“Be my guest,” I answer when no one says anything. If Rick wants to be a human guinea pig then all the power to him. If Rick goes first and comes back then I’ll know for sure the Slider works. Of course, I only want a one-way ticket.

“Really? How about you ladies? Do either of you want to go first? I’d hate to take the spot of a lady.”

“It’s all you,” Casey offers.

“Great! I can’t wait. I want to be remembered as the world’s first successful time traveler. There’s a lot that goes into being first.”

“But what about the students from last year?” Farrah asks. “Wouldn’t the guy that went last year be considered the first?”

“No, because he didn’t come back. He got lost in time and was never seen again.”

“So you want to try something that’s never been successfully done?”

“Look,” he says, and he bends forward, sweat dripping off his forehead, onto the pool deck. “It’s possible and I have proof I’ve done it successfully.” He looks around like someone might be listening. “If time travel is possible, it’s already happening.”

“How is that possible if you’re going to be the first?”

“They’re coming from the future. They’re all around us.”

Casey’s expression is full of skepticism. “Yeah, right.”

“Trust me. There’s proof of it everywhere.”

Silence over takes the pool. Rick is the only person this information doesn’t seem to bother. The guy with a million theories.

That guy can definitely go first.

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

Rick

 

 

The eighth floor of Winn Hotel has a business center with Internet access. We’re not allowed computers in our room. We’re not allowed anything that can dial into wireless that would allow us to connect with the outside world.

I need to know what’s going on. I can’t help myself. I came here to find out the truth and so far I haven’t found out anything.

But the Party doesn’t know everything. They are devoid of tech geeks. They don’t know how easy it is to break the code.

The hallway is empty when I walk into the business center. A woman sits behind the front desk. She smiles at me when I walk in. An amateur. They’re all amateurs.

See, that’s the problem. When you go after the smartest, sometimes they’re smarter than you.

“Hello.” I smile at the woman in black pants and a white polo shirt.

Good: she’s hotel staff and not Party security. This will be so easy.

“Good afternoon.” Her smile is warm and oblivious.

I motion towards an empty computer. “Mind if I use that one?” I point to one of the deserted terminals. No one is around. It should be harder than this, it really should.

“Of course.”

I sit down and she goes back to filing her nails. The woman they put in charge of supervising the business center files her nails. Now isn’t that something?

I log into the computer. A picture of Winn Hotel and Casino is the homepage. I pretend to be interested in the features of the hotel while I look around the business center for cameras. There’s one in the corner to my right. I feel its eyes on me.

No Internet access makes me anxious. I don’t know what’s going on with our Bigfoot exhibition. The rumor is there is a Bigfoot specimen at Area 31. But how will I know what’s going on if I’m stuck in a hotel all summer?

I want to get past the firewall. I want to get out of everything that’s monitored so I can browse on my own.

I look at the settings on the computer and examine the hard drive. Perfect. They’re just cheap old computers, probably moved down from the business center the senior members of The Party use. It has just what I need. Now all I have to do is get out of view of the camera.

Amateurs.

I turn off the computer and stand up.

I smile at the woman at her desk. Her nametag says her name is Maria.

“Maria, I’m going down to the common room to get something to drink. Would you like me to grab you something?”

She stops filing her nails and a smile crosses her face. “Yeah, sure, coffee would be great. I stayed up too late last night and I could really use something.”

***

No one can pull one over on me. I know people think I’m impaired. Like I’m a genius everyone wants to stay away from. The problem is, no one can see past the obvious. They think we’re here for a reason, to be members of the Party. Like the Party needs us.

They need to experiment.

They need people who are smarter than them.

The Party needs the Youth of America on board.

As long as I can still get online to see what’s going on, I’m okay. I just need to make sure what I’m doing isn’t monitored. I don’t like spies. I don’t want to be watched.

But, really, it’s okay. Because I’m ready. I want to be one of them. I want my place in history. And all it takes is a ride back in time to get there.

Everyone is scared. Like wah, wah, wah, I’m so scared something will happen.

So why did they come?

If they don’t want to go along for the ride, then what are they even doing here?

I’m here for the ride.

We’re in Las Vegas baby and I’m all in.

***

I put the key into the door and enter my room. The Party doesn’t know about ePrivacy. No one knows about it outside the members of the Cons. Jonathan gave me the device and I snuck it in my suitcase. It’s so small. If you don’t know where to look, it’s invisible. And it’s untraceable. He created it so he could do research on his computer at his job. They monitor what he does online. He doesn’t like being monitored.

I don’t acknowledge the camera above my hotel room door when I enter my room. I don’t know it’s there – or at least I pretend I don’t. I shut the door behind me and pour a glass of water. The water’s ice cold, the pitcher continuously being refilled by the hotel staff, and it freezes my insides on the way down.

I drink the glass and pour a second.

When I’ve been in my room long enough to avoid suspicion I open my suitcase, lift the liner away from the side, and feel my way along the edge. The inside of the suitcase is smooth. I run my hand back and forth.

There’s nothing.

The device is the size of a pinhead.

I keep feeling before I come up with it.

I scrape my fingernail against the suitcase. The dot goes under my fingernail, just like Jonathan showed me.

Undetected.

***

Maria is still guarding the business center when I return. I hand her the cup of coffee I retrieved for her in the common area. She bends my ear about the weather. I examine the computers while she speaks and choose one that backs to the wall, angled away from the camera.

“Mind if I use the computer again?”

“That’s what they’re here for,” she says cheerily.

Good. I’ve made a friend.

I sit down and Maria goes back to filing her nails, taking breaks to sip her coffee, examining whatever Internet gossip has caught her attention.

I turn on the computer and Winn Hotel appears in front of me. The ePrivacy is still under my fingernail. The camera is to the right. I examine the room, looking for hidden cameras. When I’m sure I’m safe I reach behind the computer and brush my fingernail against the back, loosening the device. I push it against the back of the hard drive. The screen in front of me blinks and a small window opens at the bottom.

It worked.

The main screen is still logged into the Party’s computer – but the new, small screen is unmonitored. I use it to check my email. I haven’t been able to look at my email since I’ve been here. It’s the secret email account I use to talk to the group and when I log in it’s loaded with messages.

I read through them when I notice one of the messages from Jonathan has a bright red star.

My heart thumps as I open it:

 

Rick,

 

You’re in the right place. They have one. You need to head southeast. We’re sure of it.

 

JD

 

Southeast of Las Vegas. That’s where I’ll find Area 31. And I’m sure IYD is right on its outskirts. Even with the goggles on I counted in my head how far we traveled. We headed Southeast. I could tell by the location of the sun when I took off my goggles. I’m sure it’s the right direction.

Now I just need to figure out how I’ll be able to make it to the facility to see what the Party is hiding.

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

Farrah-Kate

 

 

The weekend ticked by in slow motion. We’re not allowed off the eighth floor without prior approval from the Party heads. Mostly it’s Lisa who’s in charge of everything we do. I spent the weekend by the pool and watching movies in the common area. After everyone goes to sleep I play my mother’s DVDs. Dad’s not here, so I can watch the movies whenever I want. I don’t have him frowning over my shoulder every time he walks in on me in front of the TV.

Time ticks by while I wait to return to my past. The pictures from the magazines after Mom’s death are burned in the back of my brain.

I wonder if she’s the same as I remember her. Memories get clouded over time. All I have are her movies. I know I think of her as the actress in the films. But who was she really? Going back to that time will help me find out.

***

The bus pulls out of the hangar hidden within the walls of the hotel. The Strip is quiet on Monday morning. The opposition has returned to work. The streets are empty. It’s like nothing ever happened.

The bus pulls out of town and voices turn quiet. A few people drift off to sleep. Once again, when we’re in the desert Liam hands out our goggles to put on. I place them over my eyes and the suction glues them to my face. All I see is dark with the exception of the soft glow of red coming from the right.

I wonder what would happen if I pulled the glasses off.

What would I see?

My mind imagines trolls guarding the side of the roads and dogs with red eyes. But it’s so quiet out here. If not for the hum of the engine, it would be silent.

I feel the bus twist and turn down the road. The bus bumps along and I can tell we’re on gravel. The bumps get worse. We’re getting close. The motion of the bus slows and stops. The red on my goggles starts to blink and the light turns green.

“Okay, you can take off the blinders. We’re here,” says Liam from somewhere in front of us.

I pull the goggles over my head and the light scorches my eyes. It takes a few minutes for my eyes to adjust.

We pile off the bus. Low voices speculate about the day in the backdrop. I follow Casey off the bus and into the desert. My skin burns as soon as the sun hits it. Sweat drips into my eyes.

We follow Liam into the desert. He follows the directions on the compass he holds in his hands. Soon, he stops.

“Stand back,” he says as he programs the device.

The door slides open and we make our way down the tunnel to class. It’s one hundred degrees outside and sixty-five inside. The shock of cold air sends a jolt of pain through my head. Then my brain thaws and the pain is gone as soon as it started. Matt walks in front of me and my eyes are glued to the muscles on his back and his tuft of dark hair. Rick starts talking. The kid is like a torpedo ready to explode. Once he starts talking, it’s hard to get him to stop.

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