Extracted (22 page)

“That’s weird,” Nobel says.

“Yeah.” I hold it away from my body. Suddenly it feels less like a lightbulb and more like a ticking bomb. Literally.

“Maybe you activated it,” Ember says, holding out her hands for it.

“Yeah, maybe,” I say, passing it to Ember. As soon as I’m no longer touching it, the light fades. Around us, everyone looks tense. Everyone, I notice, except for Gloves.

“Guess it doesn’t like me,” Ember jokes. “I didn’t even know the Institute had a working prototype.”

She hands it back to me and I pass it back to Nobel. Ember stares at me, and then glances nervously at the others, who look visibly relieved she didn’t spike it and do a touchdown dance.

“Here, why don’t I show you around?” I offer. Bruce coughs but I ignore him, helping Ember to her feet.

“I’m not a spy, you know. My friends risked everything to get me here,” she says, looking away. “I hope they are okay.” Her voice is almost too soft to hear. I grind my teeth.

Friends. With the enemy. My eye twitches at the thought but I don’t say anything. She runs her hand along the walls, flaking paint off beneath her fingers.

“Alexei—sorry, Lex—can I ask you a question?” she says.

“You just did, but sure.”

She pulls me to a stop. “Are you happy here?”

“Yes,” I answer quickly. She gives me a look. “I mean, yeah. It’s not much, but it’s home.”

“How long have you been here?” she asks as we continue walking.

I have to think about it for a second. “About five years. Why?”

She looks away again. “You’re older. The last time I saw you, you were only thirteen.”

Ah. “How old are you now?” I ask. She doesn’t look much older, physically, than when I last saw her; she sure doesn’t look twenty-two.

“I just turned seventeen. I’ve only been with Tesla for about a year.”

That pulls me up short. “How is that possible? We were taken at the same time.”

She shrugs. “We’re time travelers. Nothing happens to us in the order it should. From the moment we were taken, we were traveling different paths. Nothing is linear for us.”

“This time bubble that Stewart Stills created for Hollows to exist in probably didn’t help matters, either.”

“That’s amazing. And only he can do it?”

I shrug. “Or only he knows how to do it. So far, he’s the only one who’s been able to pull it off. Nuts, right?”

“That’s one word for it. If you’re in a time bubble, how did I get in?”

That makes me pause. It’s a good question. “It must be getting weaker. I’ll mention it to Stills and see what he thinks.”

She follows me up the stairs and onto the roof. It’s almost sunset and the sky is on fire with reds and oranges. A gust of wind blows her hair into her face. I laugh as she struggles to control it.

“That’s why Mother always put your hair in ribbons.” I smile at the memory.

“I hated those. They pulled.”

I remember. She would sit and whine and squirm, and the second we were out of Mother’s sight, she’d tug them out and hide them under the furniture. Absently my hand goes to my pocket. I clutch the bottle caps between my fingers.

“So,” she begins as I walk over to the metal tower. “Stein. She was your friend?”

I bristle and grab the first rung, pulling myself up. “Yes.”

Ember follows behind, climbing upward until we’re nearly at the top. “More than a friend?” she asks again.

“Yes.”

She puckers her mouth.

I sigh, wishing Stein was here now.

“What was she like?” Ember asks, sitting next to me, our legs dangling off the edge of the roof.

I lean back on my elbows. “She is amazing. She’s smart and strong. She never lets me get away with anything.”

Ember chuckles. “I like her already.”

“When she moves, it’s like water, you know? And sometimes, when it’s just us, she looks at me like I’m the most important thing in the world.” I pause and glance over. Ember is staring at me intently. I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

But she isn’t about to let it drop. “You love her.”

I just nod.

As the sun dips out of sight, a slight reflection of light gleams in the distance. I point to it. “See that?”

She nods.

“That’s the bubble. Sometimes, when the light hits it just right, you can see it.”

“It’s sort of beautiful,” she offers.

I watch it until it vanishes.

We talk until the sun vanishes over the mountains, and then we have to climb back down in the dim light near the front door. She tells me about her life in Tesla, which doesn’t seem as terrible as I’d imagined, and I tell her about my more glorious missions. Then I tell her about the day Stein died.

I am just finishing my tale as we reach the door to Stein’s room. Ember can stay here for now. No one will bother her, and it will make me feel better knowing that that bed isn’t empty, even if its rightful owner is still gone.

“I’m going to get her back. I have the Dox. We can pick up the new batch of Contra tomorrow.”

She grabs me by the arm.

“Lex, if you can’t get the Dox to work, you are risking everything for this girl. You could tear time apart.”

I look at her flatly. “I know.”

She glares at me, as if to be sure I’m not going to change my mind before she answers. “Fine. Then I’m going with you.”

I pull my arm free. “No. I won’t risk you. I’ll go alone. It’s safer that way.”

She folds her arms over her chest and shoots me her unimpressed look. It’s eerily similar to the one Mother used to give me when I’d bring home boxes of frogs from the gardens.

“Safer for whom, exactly?” She was flowing, speaking in perfect Russian again. “If you’re stupid enough to risk the whole of existence in order to rescue this girl, then I’m stupid enough to go with you.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Fine.”

But Stein’s voice echoes in my head, ripping the smile off my face as her words come back to haunt me.

It’s your funeral.

Sleeping in a stranger’s room is like wearing someone else’s clothes. It feels awkward and uncomfortable, even more so considering whose room it is. Stein. Lex’s girlfriend. Correction—Lex’s dead girlfriend. I stare down, and somewhere in the back of my mind I’m honestly wondering if my brother has ever been in this bed. Gagging, I tear the pillow off the bed and toss it onto the only clean spot on the floor. Under the pillow, a strip of film flutters. I pick it up. Lex and the girl with the top hat from the World’s Fair are smiling and making faces in the four tiny squares.

I can’t believe it. She’s the same girl who almost killed me. Does that mean he was there too? I can’t help but wonder how many times we’d been that close, missing each other by minute tricks of fate. I toss the photos aside.

The room itself looks like a tornado has blown through, depositing scraps of clothing on every possible surface. I have to physically restrain myself from tidying up. When I kick a lone boot under the bed, it hits something with a clunk. Curiosity gets the better of me. I get down on my hands and knees, tugging the metal box free.

My fingers hover hesitantly over the latch on the metal box. There’s no lock, just the remnants of a hinge. I know I shouldn’t open it. It’s obviously private, but I can’t help myself. Setting my jaw, I open it slowly to find my brother’s face staring up at me. I lift the fragile scrap of paper where a rough sketch of Lex smirks in hard, lead lines. There’s another beneath it. This time it’s just his eyes, but it’s undeniably him.

I wonder if she drew them. They are really good, I admit reluctantly, biting my lip. I don’t want to like her, this girl who has worked her magic on my little brother. I really want to hate her. If not for her, we could have been long gone from here by now.

I toss the pictures aside and dig through the box. Pieces of fabric, drab costume jewelry. Feathers. A set of brass knuckles. I spread the items out around me, trying to use them to somehow piece together a mental picture of her, to see someone other than the girl who served me a major league beat-down at the World’s Fair.

I don’t like what I see.

I put the items back and then kick the box underneath the bed. I should try to sleep, but the call of curiosity is too strong, so I walk over to the closet. There are maybe three pairs of black leather pants, a couple black satin corsets, and one long black trench coat hanging from a rope strung wall to wall. I’m about to mumble something nasty when I spy a scrap of pink poking out from the very back. I grab it and pull. The dress in my hand can only be described as “Bubblegum-Barbie-Goes-to-Prom.” The laugh that escapes my throat is bordering on hysterical, I realize, and I slap my hand over my mouth.

It’s too much. I don’t want to be here. Somewhere down the hall a train whistle blows and I jump, throwing the dress back in the closet and slamming the door. Curling up in a little ball on the floor, I pull the Tether off my arm and twist my hair under me. My heart is racing.

After tossing and turning for what feels like hours, I crawl out of my makeshift bed and open the door. A random, dark-haired girl in goggles is sitting cross-legged across the hall from my door.

“Hey,” I say, feeling awkward as she stares at me. “You my babysitter or something?”

She looks at me quizzically. “No, why? Do you need one?”

I sigh and fold my arms across my chest. The lights are low but the air is hot and thick. Nothing about this place feels like home to me.

“Then why are you sitting out here?”

The girl shrugs. “It’s quiet.”

She’s petite but really toned. She’s wearing a black tank top under scraps of brown leather, pieced together to form a sort of corset under her bust. Her grey cargo pants have been haphazardly patched over with what I assume are pieces of the Hollows’ common room sofa.

“I’m Ember,” I whisper, not wanting to wake anyone else who might still be sleeping.

“Sisson,” she answers, pulling at the fraying hem of her pant leg.

“Do you know where my brother’s room is?”

She points down the hall. “Around the corner. Third door on the right.”

“Thanks.”

“But he’s not in there,” she adds as I move to step away.

I rotate back to her, trying to not be irritated. “Then where is he?”

She jerks her head down the other hall. “Half-pipe.”

“Well, thanks again, I guess.”

She doesn’t say anything else as I walk away, but I can feel her watching me.

Somehow I manage not to get lost making my way back to the main room. True to her word, I find Lex sitting on top of the half-pipe, his legs hanging over the edge.

“Gimme a hand,” I say, taking a run at the wall. I get more than halfway up when he grabs my hand and pulls me the rest of the way.

“You couldn’t sleep, either?” he asks as I sit beside him.

“Nope.”

He pulls a dingy jester’s hat off his head and stuffs it in his pocket. “No offense, sis, but I think I’m all talked out.”

I lay my head on his shoulder. “Yeah, me too.”

We sit like that for a while. Neither of us talks. The room is lit, but there’s no one else around. Finally I straighten, ready to leave him to his thoughts. But when he turns to look at me, his face is red and tears have left trails down his face.

Instantly, I’m crying too. There’s no sound, just the gush of emotions too fast and confusing to hold onto. He leans over, laying his head in my lap. I stroke his hair like I used to when we were little.

Our first night in captivity, after the soldiers had taken our family, my sisters and I had to share an old mattress. Alexei was supposed to be sleeping with Mama and Papa, but in the middle of the night he’d come to me, crying silently so he wouldn’t wake them. I’d held him all night, stroking his hair just like this, while a soldier glared at us from the corner of the room.

We never talked about it, and Alexei never let Papa see him cry. But during that long year, we shared many nights just like this.

“Baby, are you asleep?”

“No. And don’t call me that. I’m thirteen now,” he mumbles with his back to me as we lie across from each other in the dark room. The floor is cold under me and I’m sure it must be worse for him. I at least have Olga curled next to me. He’s all alone under the threadbare quilt.

“Do you want to come over here with us?”

He’s quiet, and for a second I think he’s fallen asleep. But just as I’m about to roll over, he stands, wrapping his only blanket over his arm. He folds it out across Olga and me, and curls in beside me.

“I know you aren’t a baby anymore, Alexei. But you’ll always be my baby brother. No matter how big you get.” Exhaustion rolls over me and I yawn. “I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

“Promise?” he asks, only a slight tremble in his voice. Down the hall, the sounds of heavy boots march down the stairs. The guards are ending their shift. It’ll be morning soon.

“I promise.”

It feels so strange now, those memories. I wanted them so badly, but at the same time, part of me wishes I could forget. How pathetic is that?

* * *

I’ve just barely closed my eyes and settled in to rest when the gas lamps on the wall flare bright red. The sound of boots stomping past my door makes me jolt upright. I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep, but someone has covered me with a scratchy wool blanket, which I toss aside immediately. I stand and it takes me a full minute to get my bearings. Just as I step forward, the door flies open and Lex pokes his head in.

“Um, Ember? I think you have a guest. Better go claim him before Bruce shoots him with the cannon.”

I practically fly down the hall and into the main room, where Ethan is handcuffed to the support rail beside the half-pipe.

“Two intruders in two days,” Bruce grumbles. “Did someone put out the welcome mat?”

Beside him, two young boys I don’t recognize chuckle. Lex shoots them a stern glare.

“Is he yours?” Lex leans over and whispers.

But I’m already moving. How could I possibly miss someone so much in such a short span of time? I rush him, wrapping my arms around him, and squeezing him until he has to tap out.