Sophomore Freak (Reject High: A Young Adult Science Fiction Series Book 2) (10 page)

I looked over the edge. There were
dozens
of police officers roaming the street with assault rifles. Were they all looking for me and Rhapsody?

We were stuck – we couldn’t go back home, either.

Rhapsody squatted next to me. “I’ll never see him alive again,” she said.

There was nothing for me to say. I rubbed my gloved hand back and forth across where I thought her shoulders would be. She got to see him, which was a good thing.

She continued, stopping every few words. “Pápa hated me Goth – got me bullied by Asia and her bobble-head groupies. No disrespect.”

Sasha hung out with Asia, who had died in that explosion to save us.

“He cut off the Internet on my phone. I didn’t see it online,” she muttered. “Kids thought me and Cherish were lesbians. She was. I’m not. I like guys.”

I hadn’t heard those rumors, though Ruby had mentioned it once a while ago.

Rhapsody’s voice cracked. “Nobody’s ever done something like that for me and my dad before – until today. Thanks.”

“No worries,” I said.

She stood and hugged me, wrapping her arms behind my back. I squeezed her tight enough to say, “You don’t disgust me,” but not enough for, “you’re smoking hot in this tight body suit.”

Both of us heard the sound of a helicopter approaching.

“Ready?” I asked, pulling my mask down. “I need some answers for all of this.”

Rhapsody did the same. “Yeah.”

Holding her tight, I took us from the roof, heading west toward Walsh.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

conspiracy theories 101

Walsh was at least forty-five minutes away from the hospital, but we arrived there in much less time. Because of our masks, Rhapsody and I could breathe at high speeds.

Somewhere along the line, I lost my concentration – maybe my Adderall was wearing off early. So when we descended into a field of corn and knee-high weeds we were going too fast and came down hot. The landing was rough and
really
loud. My feet kicked up clods of brown dirt.

Rhapsody slid down out of my arms, unmasked, and shook out the cobwebs from her head. “Okay then.”

“Don’t know what happened.” I yanked off my mask and walked off my annoyance.

She unzipped her suit down to her stomach, leaned over and panted.

I forced myself not to look.

“You’re. . .fine,” she said out of breath.

Around us the weeds and cornstalks waved in the breeze. The sun overhead beat down on us, but the temperature seemed bearable. We stared at each other.

“It must have a cooling system,” I muttered. “We went supersonic and they didn’t shred.” I wondered what else they were capable of doing. Looking around, I spotted nothing but field as far as I could see.

Rhapsody, who still looked shaken, raised her eyebrows. “This is right?” she asked me. “What the card said?”

I shrugged.
How do I think of an address, even in places I’d never been, and always end up there? The crystals?
Courtney had given me coordinates, not a street or house number. Maybe that had screwed up my mental GPS. “I didn’t read it wrong, if that’s what you mean,” I lied. “It’s not like there’s a mailbox around.”

“All right,” Rhapsody said.

She and I searched in opposite directions for
anything –
a trap door, blinking lights. Courtney could have given us a hint. The card didn’t say anything beyond numbers and a general direction. I couldn’t tell if we were even in the right spot.

Frustrated, I stomped my right foot once, making the ground shake.

In the distance, Rhapsody steadied herself. By the time the tremor stopped, I wondered if I had started an actual earthquake. We hadn’t had one in a year.

My friend was about a quarter mile away. “I found something,” she said.

Taking a measured leap, I touched down next to her. She pointed at the ground. The weeds were smashed down in two parallel lines a couple of feet apart. Tire tracks. The marks disappeared in front of us.

Whatever it was, it was underneath the surface.  

I knelt down and forced my hand down into the dirt, stopping at a hard metal surface half a foot down. Right when I was about to dig my fingers in and pull it, we heard gears whirring and churning, like a giant machine’s moving parts.

Rhapsody and I backed up.

Looks like I can read coordinates after all.

A platform the width of a two-lane road slowly rose from the ground. Clumps of dirt and grass dropped down from the edge of the opening. A loud
snap
and series of rapid clicks told us the gateway had finished lifting itself. Now high enough for us to walk in without having to duck or crawl, the corridor lit up from its sides.
A tunnel?
We had to get closer to be sure.

Rhapsody looked at me to make the call.

I took the lead.

The hallway smelled of oil, engine exhaust, and moldy earth. Its sputtering orange lights were bright enough to light our path. Rhapsody and I moved slowly.

She reached for my hand more than once. “Take my hand, dude,” she said with force.

I did it. She squeezed tightly. I was afraid, too. My heart pounded in my throat.

We reached a freight elevator and stepped inside. I pushed the “B” button, thinking it would take us to the basement, if it didn’t explode or drop us thirty floors to our death.

The elevator clanked and rattled into position. The passageway closed in front of us – much more quickly than it had opened. It made me think of an old movie I’d seen once, where two robots went into a dark building in the middle of nowhere. Of course, they didn’t die, because they couldn’t.

“Where
are
we?” Rhapsody asked.

Two of the levels we passed were submerged in total blackness. The only things visible to us were gigantic, sharp shadows the size of small buildings. From their angles, I thought they might be airplanes or jets. The scent of fuel and oil reinforced that idea, so maybe it wasn’t an off-the-mark crazy hunch, after all. Based on my last one, I’d bet Ray that San Francisco would beat Los Angeles in a baseball game, and when they lost by fifteen runs, I was stuck hand-washing his Cougar.

I’m glad I didn’t say, “Are those planes?” out loud. Rhapsody was a grieving mess, but she’d have jumped all over that one.

A US Air Force logo gleamed on the elevator’s rusted control panel, catching my eye. Underneath it was a faded metal plate with “BAE.A.T.” in red block letters.
Wonder what it stands for
?

Unlike regular elevators, this one loudly smacked against the metal housing bolted to the floor.

“Ding,”
I joked. “Secret lair. Bottom floor.”

We proceeded into a deserted room with thick metal beams and bolts connected to the ceiling. Rusted orange rectangular marks lined its walls. The gray dust was so thick it looked as if someone had clapped a million chalkboard erasers in here. My nose tingled from it, like I’d sneeze at any second.

Still holding my hand, Rhapsody squeezed it. Ahead of us was a narrow door.
Where does it go?
Since we’d come this far, I didn’t see any point in turning around.

Wherever it went, we had to continue forward to find out. Turning the knob with my left hand, I made sure not to pull too hard. It opened to a walkway so narrow that Rhapsody couldn’t walk next to me. She trailed behind, her fingers locked in mine. The scent of gasoline was gone, replaced by something just as strong – a chemical that smelled like the world’s largest cough drop. Almost choking on the stuffy air, I sniffed it. “What
is
that?”

“Cleaner, maybe?” Rhapsody asked from behind me, her voice shaking.

I turned to look at her. Her eyes shifted back and forth. She was thinking something else that the smell was from a substance way more dangerous than cleaner.

The walkway continued through to another passage-way and another, like subway cars. None of them were well-lit. We paced through them all. Any kind of loud noise might have sent me through the roof. But I wouldn’t leave Rhapsody alone to face whatever.

The last pathway let us into what appeared to be the living area of an underground compound. Through that was a kitchen with silver walls and futuristic-looking appliances. I think there was a refrigerator, or a large shiny cabinet of some kind. Was there an apple pie cooking somewhere? The scent of apples and cinnamon made my stomach growl.

“Food,”
Rhapsody grunted the word like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. “I recognize
that
smell. Pit stop?”

“We’ll be back.” I mentally marked the place – if there was anything edible in there, even if it was just a small pie, we’d eat it.

Stumbling into the garage, we found the black late model van with tinted windows I’d seen parked outside of Aunt Dee’s next to an old motorcycle and a black vintage Cougar sedan.

Through the next passageway we found what we were looking for.

I stepped in first, while Rhapsody followed close to me. The area was completely circular with a ten-foot-high ceiling. Spaced in a half circle bordering the round walls were tall bookcases. In front of them were desks made of red wood, with large computer monitors. The other side looked like a hospital room with curtains, beds, and monitors. That’s where we sensed movement. 

Courtney was the first to notice us. She had been kneeling, I guess to fine-tune some equipment. She stood when she heard us. “Welcome,” she said with a smirk. She wore the same business suit we’d seen her in a while ago. “Thanks for knocking first.”

Sasha sat on an examining table next to Courtney. She looked different with no makeup and her hair frizzed and combed back. She wore a black snakeskin adult footie pajama suit like ours. Her weary smile drooped when she saw Rhapsody and me connected at the hand. We pulled apart, but I was sure she and I would have a discussion about it later.

At least she didn’t know about the kiss. Wait, did she sense it? Could she?

I pretended everything was okay and rushed over, but she signaled that I shouldn’t touch her. “Don’t,” she said stiffly. “I cleaned up Corky’s puke for hours. And you were with
her
all this whole time?”

Rhapsody crossed her arms across her chest when Sasha gestured in her direction.

I defended her. “She tricked us into waking up Peters and George just. . .”

“Then,”
she interrupted me, still venting. “Janitor Brad breaks into my house and grabs me like a
Lifetime
movie. I can’t! You two, Joyce, this, it’s just too. . .”

The mention of our old janitor made me tilt my head. “Wait,
what? ‘
Janitor Brad’?”  

Across the room and with his back to us, the guy kind of
did
look like Janitor Brad. He was tall, kind of thin, dark-skinned and bald. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned below his neck and his black tie hung loosely beneath it.

“Name’s Hughes,” he said loudly enough for all of us to hear. “Not Brad.”

When Hughes turned around I noticed that his black and gray goatee was shaped like Brad’s. He wore eyeglasses. Brad didn’t. Without them he could have been Brad’s identical twin. The janitor never talked to me, so I didn’t know his voice.

Whoever this guy was, I needed answers. “Are we even safe here, wherever
here
is?” I asked. “I saw the Air Force symbol. I thought you weren’t government?”

Hughes sighed. “Safe? For the most part. And we’re not government.”

Rhapsody bristled at the answer. “Little more vague?”

“What he means,” Courtney said. “Is that safety’s only an issue when you’re not more powerful than whoever is after you. As long as we’re around, the answer is yes.

“This is an old government facility we commandeered. President Clinton shut it down before he left office. It’s been ours ever since.”

“The least he could’ve done for us,” said Hughes. I wondered what he meant.

“Who’s after us? Who is it?” Sasha’s body shook.
“Tell me!”

Whoever it is, it better not be Peters
. Which reminded me, “Your buddy from the hospital? Him?” I asked Courtney. “Peters?”

“Think, Jason. He’s not your enemy,” Hughes said. He almost sounded sincere.

I laughed. “Your friends try to kill you?”

“He’s much more of a help than a danger,” Courtney said with a straight face.

“That’s debatable,”
shouted the Asian woman from behind one of the curtains. Her shadow jerked and shifted, like the mention of Peters’ name made her jumpy.

“He’s one of us,” Courtney shot back. “Camuto’s joking.”

“No,” Camuto said. She rounded the curtain and stared at me over her glasses. She, too, was dressed the same way Courtney and Hughes were. “Camuto is
not joking.”

Three months ago he’d shot at us, nearly hit me with a car, and tried to choke me to death. I believed her.

Sasha scooted to the end of the table. I tried to help her down. “I got it,” she said, shooing me with her hands. “It’s two feet to the floor. I’ll be fine.”

I snapped. “What’s your problem? You told me to leave and I left.”

“I didn’t know
where
you were going or with whom!” she shrieked. “Seriously, her over me?”

Sasha obviously meant with Rhapsody. “You should shut up.
Now,”
I told her.

She slapped me across the cheek too quickly for me to drop my powers. Sasha cursed and shook her hand in pain.

“I helped Rhapsody say goodbye to George,” I said over her grumbling.

Still massaging her right hand, Sasha gazed over at Rhapsody. She must have finally noticed the pain in Rhapsody’s eyes that had been there for the past hour.

“Alright,” she said, still wincing. “I’ll shut up now.”

The awkward silence among the three of us stretched on for hours. Okay, it might have actually been a minute or less, but no one said a word, not even our hosts. Hughes monkeyed around with a piece of equipment. Camuto disappeared behind the curtain. From her demeanor, I could tell why Rhapsody started calling Camuto “Sour Lemon Face” behind her back. The woman couldn’t smile. And Courtney, for some odd reason, watched us interact like we were experiments in a Petri dish. Hadn’t she seen teenagers before?