Perception (24 page)

I flinched as the
antiseptic bit through the wound on my skull. Bloodied water spilled into the
sink, running past my eyes as I washed it out of my hair. I spit red from my
mouth and grabbed the hand towel, patting my face and hair dry then applying a
bandage to my head.

Once I had my face
washed and bandaged up and the glass cuts on my hands cleaned out, I began a
raid on the lab.

I needed supplies.
The beam from my flashlight landed on a backpack hanging on a hook behind the
door. Perfect.

I grabbed it, holding
it upside down. Empty.

My first stop was the
cupboard that held the space food. I took the basket and dumped it into the
bag. I went back for the first aid kit and threw it in—just in case.

What else? My wet
clothes still clung to me. Coming off my adrenaline rush, I started to cool,
breaking out in uncontrollable shivering.

Did the lab jerks
leave any clothes behind? The hoodie in the closet. I opened the door, my mind
returned to the moment when Zoe and I had huddled in there, her body pressed
against mine for the first time.

I peeled off my wet
t-shirt and donned the dry hoodie. Better. I checked the upper shelf and was
rewarded with a pair of folded grey sweat-pants. I stripped out of my wet jeans
and put them on, then I rolled my wet clothes into a ball and stuffed them into
the pack. Anything else?

The gun. Had Mitchell
left it? Which drawer had I put it in? It’d been dark and at the time all I’d
thought about was getting Zoe away from Mitchell to safety.

I rummaged through
drawer after drawer. In addition to Grant, I’d need protection from would-be
thieves and attackers, who were sure to be enjoying the lack of law enforcement
going on right now. A gun would make a good deterrent.

Where was it? I ran my
hand along the back of the last drawer, my fingers stretching out as I reached.
They touched something. Cool metal. I laid it in my palm and examined it. A
standard handgun.

Loaded.

Chapter 31

We can fix her
.

What had that maniac
meant?

I stood at the dart-board
game’s oche line, which my father had marked with a two by four, I held a dart
between my thumb and forefinger and tossed it. It arched like a blue-tailed
bird and hit the outer mid ring of the board.

I’d successfully
stayed concealed at the family cabin for a week and a half. My first two nights
were sleepless, but when Grant still hadn’t discovered me on the third day, I
started to relax.

I lined the second
dart at eye-level, brought my arm back and sent it forward in a smooth arc.

Yes. Inner circle.

On the night of the
storm, I made my way to the garage at the back of my mother’s house. As I’d
hoped, it was dark and quiet; Skye had cleared my family out. I kept to the
shadows, though I hadn’t spotted either of Vanderveen’s men. I took the cash,
hidden in a safe in my bedroom, and my computer pen. I rode my father’s scooter
through the cacophony of traffic snarls and looting until I arrived at this
peaceful, hidden refuge in the mountain forest.

My third dart hit the
board with a snap, and I breathed in sharply. The outer bull’s-eye. I’d never
gotten this close to the bull’s-eye before. My aim was improving.

I’d made two trips
into Capulette, the little tourist town closest to my hideaway. Capulette had a
charging station where I charged the scooter, a general store for the locals
where I’d stocked up on canned goods and soda, and a coffee/souvenir shop for
tourists passing through on their way to the national park.

I postured myself
back at the line and threw the first dart of my second round. I let out a disgruntled
snort. Outer circle. So much for improving.

I pictured my father
standing here.
Relax your shoulders, Noah. Don’t lean forward. The dart
should float through the air.
Young Noah had watched in awe as the dart hit
the bull’s-eye again and again.

My second dart arced
through the air, missing the center bull’s-eye but snapping solidly into the
next inner circle.

I needed to find Zoe.
I hadn’t tried to contact her for fear her transmissions were being monitored.
She was probably worried sick, or angry that I hadn’t tried. Or weeping,
thinking I was dead.

None of these scenarios
was acceptable. I needed a plan.

Sweat dripped down my
brow, and I paused to reach for my can of cola. I grimaced. It had warmed and
flattened in the sun.

An idea came to me a couple
days ago. My mind reviewed it over and over. It was risky. I might not find
her.

I might get caught.

I bit the inside of my
cheek, uncertain. Should I or shouldn’t I? I poised myself at the line and
lined up my shot. The dart floated through the air.

Bull’s-eye.

I should.

Chapter 32

Traffic moved
smoothly on the grids once more, but workers were still sweeping up broken
glass and removing fallen palm trees from the storm. My pulse jumped as I
entered my neighborhood. I drove past my house and around the block a few
times, scouting for suspicious vehicles or anyone who didn’t belong there. I
was glad that the helmet concealed my face.

Once I was certain
things were clear, I drove down the back alley and parked the scooter in our
garage. The lawn had burned completely white, and all but the hardiest of
plants were wilted over in a slow death. Davis’s little bicycle lay on the
sidewalk. I picked it up and leaned it against the house. I swallowed hard as I
entered the small kitchen through the back door. Please let my mother be okay.

The screech of the
rusty hinges on the door broke through the quiet stillness in the house.

“Hello?” An
unfamiliar voice. “Who’s there?” A short, squat woman in nurses’ scrubs entered
the kitchen.

“I’m Noah.”

“Oh, Saundra’s oldest
son, I presume. I’m Nancy, the nurse.”

I had hoped Skye would
be here, but of course she couldn’t work twenty-four seven.

“How’s my mother?”

“She’s fine.
Sleeping. You should come back later.” Nancy casually folded her arms, stepping
in front of me. Her lips formed a straight line and her eyebrows arched
slightly. She took her job caring for my mother seriously. She had no intention
of letting me near Mom, sleeping or not.

“Can you tell her I’m
okay and not to worry? I promise to be back soon.”

Nancy nodded stiffly.
“Sure. I’ll do that.”

She watched as I
backed out the door and closed it behind me, then I heard the soft click of the
lock.

I shucked on my
backpack, feeling the weight of the object tucked in the bottom. I slowed as I
made my way back to the garage. I was sure I’d closed the door, but now it
stood open a crack. I carefully removed my pack, digging deep until my fingers
found the gun.

I pushed on the door,
concealing myself.

 “Who’s there?” I
said.

No answer. Maybe my
imagination was getting away on me. I dropped my backpack on the ground and
held the gun in both hands, finger on the trigger. I wasn’t taking any chances.

Like the police shows
on TV, I jumped into the open space, hands braced, gun pointed. “Don’t move.”

My eyes narrowed in
the sudden darkness, the only light filtering in was from a small, high-set
window.

“Nice gun.”

Grant sat calmly on my
scooter in the middle of the room.

I cocked the trigger,
my aim sure and steady. There’d been a reason I practiced throwing darts. I
imagined the dart board on Grant’s chest.

“Get off my bike.”

“Easy, Noah.” He swung
his leg off, his hands lifted half way in the air.

“Why shouldn’t I
shoot you now?” I said. “It’s you or me, isn’t it? You won’t stop until I’m
dead.”

Grant’s eyes settled
on the gun.

“I’m a reasonable
man. We can negotiate.”

“Fine. Stay away from
my family.”

“I’ve got no beef
with your family. All you have to do is stay away from the Vanderveen girl.
Stay low, off the grid like you’ve been doing, and I can tell the old man
you’re dead.”

“I can’t promise
that.”

“You might change
your mind.”

“Or, I could just
shoot you and get it over with.”

“I’m not Vanderveen’s
only man. Are you going to shoot us all? Besides, you might be brave, Noah
Brody, but you’re not a murderer.”

“I wouldn’t bet on
that.”

“I’m not a betting
man.”

Would Grant call my
bluff? My heart beat steadily, but my arms remained strong and sure. A fly buzzed
around his head, and he swatted it.

“Don’t move,” I said
not convinced the man didn’t have his own weapon hidden somewhere on his body.

“Are we at a
stalemate then?” Grant’s lip pulled up on one side. “I stand here with my hands
in the air, while you point a gun. How’s it going to end?”

“Get against the
wall.”

He hesitated.

“Now!”

He moved slowly to
the dark side of the garage and leaned against the wall with his hands. I
patted him down. Just as I thought–a gun in a side holster and a knife strapped
against his leg.

“This must be
humiliating,” I said, stripping the man of his weapons. “Getting one upped by a
kid.”

“I admit, not my best
moment.”

I dropped his weapons
into my backpack.

“Here’s the deal.” I
kept the gun pressed against the back of Grant’s head. “I watch you walk east
down the alley. We agree this never happened. Vanderveen never knows about your
incompetence or my whereabouts. I just disappeared into thin air. Deal?”

Grant grunted. “Deal.”

I prodded him to
leave the garage and start walking. “And remember, my gun is aimed at your
back. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Chapter 33

The warm glow of dusk
stroked the city. I rode my scooter to the beach nearest the Sol City northern
gate and I parked at the surf shop, locking my helmet in place. I found the
changing rooms and changed into a muscle shirt and surf shorts. I had to look
the part.

The guy renting surfboards
stared at me oddly when I asked to pay in cash, but money was money. He took it
and stuffed the bills into his pocket. I walked down the beach with the board
tucked awkwardly under my right arm, and when the rental guy was distracted by
another customer, I left the beach, board in tow.

I’d never surfed a day
in my life, but the board was large enough there to conceal my face from
security. I approached the Sol City gates, waiting across the street until I
spotted a group of other guys, college kids, approaching. I stepped up behind
them, as they got into the pedestrian line, hoping it looked like we were
together.

The guys ahead of me
waved their palms through the scanner. I didn’t have Liam’s chip anymore,
besides I was sure his code had been erased by now.

What I had was a copy
of Zoe’s chip, from when she wanted me to break into her locked medical files. I
kept my face down, hiding behind the heavy board.

My heart stuttered as
I waited. I felt a flare of red creep up my neck. Would this copy clear me?

I held my breath as I
waved the concealed chip replicate under the scanner. No sirens or alarms. I
followed the crowd as it dispersed, breathing deeply.

Sol City was up and
running like the storm hadn’t even happened. This didn’t surprise me. Sol City
always got the first and the best. I took a westward path near the transit
station and headed for the beach.

Near a park with a
playground and public washrooms was a row of lockers. I put my pack in one,
paying with Zoe’s chip to lock it. I skipped through hot sand to the water’s
edge, dropped the board and slid on.

My arms burned as I
paddled along the shoreline. Zoe lived farther south than I’d thought, but I
recognized the beachfront of Zoe’s house when I reached it–the odd cube design,
colorless lines and the west-facing glass wall. The terraced yard prevented me
from being seen from the house windows, at least from the first floor anyway. My
hope was if I waited long enough, Zoe would come out.

This was the point
where my plan could fail. She might not be home. She might be watching a movie.
She could be doing anything.

I was bargaining on
her love of the ocean to bring her here at some point in the day. I’d just wait
for her. If her heart missed me as much as mine missed her, maybe the ocean
would be a respite as she waited for answers.