Freefly (27 page)

I push the boss out of my mind and focus on gliding forward, on pushing myself as fast as I can.  Thorne’s given me 24 hours to get back to Damien, before...I can’t even think about it.  Dread spreads from the center of my chest to the tips of my fingers, like dark ink unfurling in water.  Even if I manage to get back to the Tower, suffer the consequences of my actions, and return to the white place in time that Damien isn’t hurt (or worse), I’m going to be living a nightmare.  What am I going to do:  work for the criminals by day and be a guinea pig by night?  Meanwhile, Damien will be rotting away in some room, trapped in that godforsaken place to ensure that I will always come back.  There’s gotta be a way out, some way to be free.

The solution hits me.

Damien

The building comes out of nowhere, sitting at the end of a long, smooth driveway that twisted through dense woods.  It is astoundingly large, with a gray stone exterior that seems impenetrable.  I sit in the backseat of a car, wedged between two of the black-suited men.  My heart is going wild within my chest.  While I realize I basically offered to be here, the sight of the building terrifies me.  It looks like the sort of place you enter but never exit. 

The car stops, and one of the men shoves me out the door.  I stumble as my feet hit the pavement, but am immediately steadied by the vice grip of one of the black-suits.  I’m guided up three cement steps, and the front door of the building opens with the sound of a sliding bolt. 

I’m pulled into a long, whitewashed hallway with many doors on both sides.  Extraordinarily bright lights blaze from the ceiling, making the place seemed washed out and vaguely heavenly.  I remember Sammie saying she disliked the hallway in my high school with the bright fluorescent lights.  Now I understand why.

I’m pushed through the steel doors of an elevator, and two black-suits follow me inside, their faces pale and blank.  The door drifts shut with a foreboding thud, and my stomach lurches as we begin to rise.  The silence is tangible.  It alarms me how lifeless the scientists seem, how robotic and empty.  Have they, like Thorne, smothered their humanity by involving themselves in such a scheme? 

The elevator door springs open, revealing a hallway identical to the one before.  The men grasp my arms and force me out.  We walk for what feels like miles, through a labyrinth of identical hallways.  The air is chilly and smells vaguely of antiseptic.  Finally, we stop in front of a metallic door.  One of the black-suits puts his hand on a small panel, which flashes green before the door slides open.  A sharp jab to the back launches me inside, and I tumble to the floor.  By the time I scramble to my feet, the door has slid shut again, and I am alone. 

I take a deep breath and analyze my surroundings.  A rectangular strip of yellow foam sits in one corner (a bed?), and a metal chair is bolted to the floor.  Other than that, the room is bare.  I saunter to the tiny window and close my eyes against the sunlight.  Is this where Sammie spent her entire childhood?  The thought makes me sad to the bone.  It also makes me feel like pummeling someone. 

The door grinds open behind me, and I whip around.  Michael Thorne comes inside, his face glowing with triumph.  Two black-suits follow him.

“Hello, Damien.”  Thorne stops in the center of the room and looks around happily.  “Liking your accommodations?”

I put my back against the wall and say nothing.  This feels remarkably like high school:  a bully and his goons, terrorizing me.  As usual, there is nothing I can do but grit my teeth and bear it. 
At least I chose this. 
Yes, that is the difference between this episode of bullying and those of my past.  This time I’m enduring it for the sake of someone I love.  The thought makes me feel strong.

“I think the place could use a little color, personally,” I say.

Thorne lets out a chuckle.  “I don’t know, my boy.  I kind of like the blankness.  No distractions from the task at hand.  Surely, as a science man like myself, you can understand the need for focus and concentration.”

“I should have taken more art classes,” I snap.

“Art?” Thorne scoffs.  “There’s no time for that.  Not when we’ve got a monumental scientific discovery on our hands.”
“She’s a
person
,” I say, “not a scientific discovery.”

“You know what your problem is?  You’re thinking too small, my boy.  You may think of her as a person, but I think of her as a threshold, a gateway to the improvement of the entire human race.  You think I’m being inhuman.  I think it would be inhuman
not
to keep her here.  Don’t you see we could change the lives of those who cannot walk, improve our armed forces, lessen the use of pollutive and finite fossil fuels for transportation?  Don’t you see how it would be selfish of me to sacrifice these discoveries for the happiness of a single person?”  He breathes heavily, a drop of spittle on his lip. 

I say nothing.

“You’re convinced, aren’t you?” Thorne says, grinning.  “You know, Savage, we’ve had some harsh words before, but I could use a sharp guy like you.  With a little more schooling
—
”

“You’re
psychotic
,” I spit. 

His face reddens.  “Psychotic?”

“I love her, you idiot.  You think I’d betray her by joining ranks with you?”

Thorne lets out a low, throaty laugh, his pointy teeth glinting in the light.  “Oh, it’s such a loss.  Such a great, great loss.  Never fear, though.  I’ll find a use for you.  Boys.”

The black-suits jerk to life, grabbing me by the arms and forcing me down into the metal chair.  Before I have time to even process what’s happening, they’ve secured my arms behind my back and fastened my ankles to the chair’s legs.

“What are you doing?” I croak.

Thorne pulls a syringe from his pocket and limps closer to me, tilting his head with something like fascination.  “I’ve seen you fly, my boy.  I don’t know if it was the girl’s influence or something you did on your own, but I’m certainly going to find out.”

Sammie

The familiar sight of Reading, with its cramped streets and rising church spires, does nothing to calm the anxiety thrumming within me.  The Tower blares in the distance, bright red against its green backdrop, its color coming off as poisonous.  With all the havoc I’ve caused, there’s nothing good waiting for me there. 

At least this will be the last time I ever come back.

I curve upward and then dive, my stomach twisting at the sudden drop.  The top of the Tower, a blotch of red, grows larger and larger, like a spreading sore.  My determination grows solid within me, until I can practically feel it, like a ball of steel in my chest. 
I can get Damien his life back. 

All I have to do is give up my own.

I land softly in the grass outside the Tower.  Black smoke swirls from the chimney, and the windows reflect the gray city below. 

“
Sammie.
” 

Jiminy comes blasting out the front door, his bald head slippery with sweat.  He looks angry enough to pulverize steel. 

“What the
hell
happened?”  He grabs me by the arm and drags me toward the front door.  “You know what’s been going on here?  Not good things.  Your photo’s all over the news, you know that?  The boss is angry out of his mind.”

We hurtle inside.  The air conditioning in the lobby is freezing, the golden elevator large and intimidating.  Evan spots me and leaps from his seat, grabbing the telephone and dialing rapidly.  Jiminy pins me against the wooden wall, one hand on my shoulder. 

“Say something already,” he says, his brow bulging.  “Explain yourself.”

I keep my voice low and steady, more like a drone’s than a person’s.  “I’m leaving here and not coming back.”

Jiminy’s anger twists into confusion, his head jerking to the side.  “Excuse me?”

“You heard what I said.”

There’s silence between us.  When Jiminy speaks again, his voice is softer, his eyes concerned.

“You sick or something?”  He lifts his hand off my shoulder and touches the back of his neck.  “You’re not here when you’re supposed to be, you know what happens.”

I nod, letting Jiminy know that I’m fully aware of what I’m doing.  He shakes his head violently. 

“Come on,” he says.  “I know this is bad, but it’s no reason to go and get yourself killed
—
”

“I’ve got to.”  I duck my head and say, very softly, “Damien.”

Jiminy’s face is blank for a moment, before he registers the name.  He takes a step back and blows out a breath. 

“So, it’s about that guy,” he says.  “Sounded young.”

“The scientists have him.  It’s my fault.”

“And getting yourself killed is the solution?”

“Yes.  I’m gonna get him free, and then, once I’m gone...”  I wince, pushing the thought away.  “The scientists will have no reason to come after him.  It’s not like he can fly on his own.”

Jiminy shakes his head.  “His picture’s on every newspaper in the country.  Even if you get him free, he’s not gonna have a normal life
—
”

“Damien can hide.  At least until the story dies down.  People will forget.  His looks will change.  And I won’t be around to get him into any more trouble.”

Jiminy stares at me steadily, saying nothing.

“What I came here for,” I say, “is to make sure the boss isn’t going to come after him after I’m
—
”

“You know very well he will.”
“I’m asking you to stop him.”

Jiminy looks at me incredulously.  “Since when do I have that kind of power?”

“You do,” I say.  “He listens to you.  Please.  Haven’t you ever loved anyone?”
His face softens, and he glances around the lobby.  He has.  It’s the reason he’s not quite like the others, the reason he’s still human. 

“I’ll do my best, alright.  But I’m not promising anything
—
”
“Thank you.”  I launch toward him and hug him.  Jiminy takes a deep breath that makes his chest quake, then slaps me on the back and pulls away. 

“I’m gonna miss you, kid
—
”

The elevator doors burst open, and Lederman rushes out.  In a second, he slams me against the wall.  Jiminy comes at him, but Lederman points a gun at his face.  His other hand presses against my neck. 

“Get off me!” I wheeze, swinging my fists at him. 

He presses my neck harder.  I struggle to breath.  He leans in, his eyes flashing murderously. 

“Flying at a high school dance?”  His voice is surprisingly smooth and even, despite the massive amount of pressure he’s exerting on my neck.  “Were you
trying
to expose your powers?  Or are you honestly that stupid?”

“Hey, back off!” Jiminy says. 

Lederman clicks his gun, and Jiminy silences.  The edges of my vision turn black.  I feel my knees buckle beneath me.

“Can’t pull off double-fly, huh?” Lederman continues, the groove in his forehead deepening.  “I can’t wait until the boss gets here
—
”