Authors: Susan Adrian
Tunnel Vision (34 page)
“Jake,” she gasps, “don’t tell him.” The guy presses the knife, and a drop of blood drips down.
I don’t want to tell him. I don’t want to give him any more than he has, give up the dream of finding Dad, give up
Dad
. But Rachel, right here, wins over that. She’s my responsibility.
“In a base about ninety miles southeast of Roswell, New Mexico,” I say, low, my eyes on her. She bites her lip, tears tracking down her cheeks, washing away the blood. “I can give you coordinates.”
“Excellent. See how well we work together? Tell me the coordinates, and we’re done here. For now.”
I tell him. He writes them down with a flourish.
“Put the knife away,” I say. “Leave her alone.”
He nods to the minion with Rachel, who slides his knife into a case and comes and takes the paper. Mr. Smith says something in his ear, and the big guy nods and heads for the front of the plane.
“Are we going to my dad?” I ask hopelessly.
He flashes me a patronizing look. “Don’t think that because we’re such good friends now I’m going to tell you any of my plans. Unlike everyone else you’ve been dealing with, I’m not stupid. But thank you, Mr. Lukin. You have been most helpful.” He stands, turns to the two guys next to me. “Don’t let him move his hands.” He pulls a phone out of his pocket, waggles it. “Let the bidding begin.”
* * *
As soon as he’s gone I turn toward Rachel. “I’m so sorry,” I say.
“No talking,” one of the guys snaps.
She studies me for a long minute, like she’s judging me, or deciding something. Then the corners of her mouth lift just slightly. Not anywhere near a smile, but tempering the frown. She looks away, out the other window, the tears on her cheek reflecting the lights.
I hate that she’s here, her life in actual danger, because of me. I can’t get her out of it, not yet. But there’s something I
can
do. A start.
I close my eyes, but not to sleep. Mr. Smith knows I can tunnel with objects, and he knows I can control people. He even knows about Dad. What he doesn’t know—what no one but me and Dedushka and Myka know—is that there is one person I can tunnel to without any object at all. I’ve done it before. I have to, now.
I focus on Dedushka, on everything I know about him: his weird, bristly, paranoid habits, his fishing and technology-avoiding obsessions, his love for my grandmother, his ring. His huge, constant love for Myka, for me. I can’t picture him fishing like last time, but I picture
him
as hard as I can.
Dedushka,
I call in my mind.
Please, Dedushka. I need you.
I feel a breeze across my face, the smell of beer.
Thank God.
I try to sense where he is, what he’s doing. With him it’s like I go in the reverse way from everyone else. Interior first, then outward.
He’s in Knoxville, Tennessee. On a street not far from the train yard, passing by an Irish pub. It’s warm, even at six in the morning, and damp. It will be hot today. But it does not matter. He needs to find a ride to New Mexico before the morning is out. Wherever Yakob is, he will know to get there, meet there.
Worry for me prickles through, and I wish I could talk to him. But I don’t have time to waste to make him write a note to himself, make him realize I’m there. I have to do this the fast way.
I take him over, fill him completely. It’s easy with him—there’s no resistance. I don’t know if he knows what I’m doing now, but he will, once I’m gone.
I look around him, searching for what I want. He’s on a street of cafés, crowded with people drinking coffee, and there’s got to be …
There. A girl at a table closest to the sidewalk, leaning in to her boyfriend. Her phone sitting on the table at her elbow, ignored.
I take it with Dedushka’s fingers as I make him walk past, walk on. She doesn’t even notice. I have to get out of sight, but I don’t have long.
I’m sticking, already. I haven’t been in anyone this deeply since Eric.
I go around the corner, into a little alley behind the pub. Tap out the number of Myka’s cell.
“Hello?” she says, tentative. Groggy with sleep.
The phone is tapped, of course. All their phones are tapped. “Myk,” I say, in Dedushka’s voice. “It’s me, dorkus. Go to the zoo, you and Mo … your mom both. Go
now
.”
There’s a small pause. “I understand,” she says. “We’ll go to the zoo today.”
I hang up, throw the phone down the alley. “Roswell,” I say, in Dedushka’s voice, hoping he can hear it. “If I can.”
I tear myself away. I keep my eyes shut, though, and try to control my breathing. So no one will even know I was gone.
Zoo
is a code word, worked out in tunnels while I was at the cabin. The emergency distress signal. Myk knows if I—or Dedushka—tell her to go to the zoo, it’s done. They’re blown, in danger. They have to duck surveillance and run. Disappear.
She’s smart, and we had a plan. She’ll do it right. They’ll vanish, and be safe. When I’m clear of this, somehow, we’ll meet up again.
And if I never get clear of this? I told Dedushka I’d go to Roswell, but I don’t know how I can get away from this guy. What if he really sells me to someone else?
They’ll be safe anyway. Maybe Dad won’t be, after what I had to do. I
hate
that. But I saved Mom and Myka, and Dedushka knows I’m still alive. I’m better than I was a few minutes ago.
Next I have to worry about Rachel.
I realize I’m not trembling anymore. The jitters, the physical fear of being trapped, is gone. It vanished when I saw Rachel threatened, realized we’re in this together. I can’t afford to have jitters. It’s not just me anymore.
* * *
I don’t know how long we’re on the plane after that. A few hours, maybe? He gives us some food, water. Time stretches like it did in the cell, like it did when I was handcuffed, waiting for Liesel.
Hallucinations of Liesel, then Eric, come to visit. I don’t know why my brain keeps choosing them over everyone I love, but there they are, both of them raging in their own ways that I’m here with Smith instead of with them. That this is why I should be in custody in the first place. That I’m a traitor to my country because I escaped them and let this happen.
I wish I could punch them, swipe them. Make them go away. But I can’t move.
It’s a perverse relief when Smith saunters down the aisle and takes his seat. At least something will
happen,
maybe something I can use. Though Rachel shrinks back in her seat at the sight of him.
I have to get her out of this.
Smith ignores her, eyes bright on me. He watches me for a few minutes, silent. Then he grins. Like a crocodile.
“You have just made me a very wealthy man, Mr. Lukin.” He waves at the luxurious jet. “Well. Wealthi
er
.”
“Happy to help.”
He laughs. “I’m sure.” He’s definitely in a different mood. Giddy. “I’m almost sorry to have you go. I’m quite sure you would prove useful to me right here. And you’re such a joy to have around.”
“Where are we going?” I ask, casual.
“You? You’re going night-night again. Next time you wake up you’ll be in the care of your new owner.” He gestures to one of the goons, who pulls a case out from under the seat. Smith snaps it open, shows it to me. A needle, ready to go.
The panic slides back, and I feel sick. No. Not again. “I’m not going anywhere without Rachel.”
“Yes,” she cries. “Send me too. He—needs me to work now. I help him.”
He glances at her, curious. “That is patently false. But a fine lie, on short notice. And you’re going, but not for that reason. I recommended that the new owner take you too, as … incentive for Mr. Lukin to work his best. It was agreed.”
I try to launch myself at him again. I can’t get far out of the seat, but I swing my arms up, try to clock him with the handcuffs.
He signals with one finger, and one of the guys grabs me, holds me down while the other one plunges the needle into my arm.
I look at Rachel, focus hard. Maybe I can be stronger than the drugs. Maybe I can hold out this time, find a way.…
Rachel’s face, tearstained, her jaw set, is the last thing I see.
When I come to this time it takes a couple disorienting seconds to realize I’m blindfolded, my hands still cuffed. Though there’s something about the air that gives me a bad feeling. It’s heavy, motionless. Underground air.
I want to cry. If I’m stuck again, back at square one …
No. I’ve learned a lot since then. I sit up straight, rattle the cuffs. “Hello?”
The door opens, shuts. Someone is in here with me. I hear the breathing, soft. I have the wild thought that it’s a predator—a wolf, or a mountain lion—before my brain kicks in and reminds me it’s worse than that. It’s probably my
owner
.
There’s rustling at my cuffs, a click, and the weight is lifted off. I rub my hands over my free wrists, instinctive. Then fingers come up to my blindfold, lift it up. I blink in the light of a white, bare room. Into eyes that are just like mine.
“Dad?” I whisper it, as if saying it aloud will break him. He seems real, but he might just be a hallucination, one my brain cobbled together.
“Jake,” he says, in his round, familiar voice. He’s real. He clasps my hands, looks into my face sadly. “What have you done?”
Right. All of this, everything, is my fault because of the party, because I did what he told me not to. Wait, no. Liesel
drugged
me at the party. I think I’ve done all right, considering.
But I don’t argue. “Is Rachel okay? Why am I here?”
He lets go, lets his hands dangle between his knees. Like he always did. I can’t believe he’s here, alive, in front of me. At last.
“She’s fine. Sleeping. As to why you’re here—” He sits back in the white plastic chair, studies me. “Do you know where ‘here’ is?”
“An underground base. I don’t know why, but—I saw you trying to make someone tunnel.”
“Ah.” He looks a lot older in the two and a half years since I’ve seen him, the lines etched in his face. “You tunneled to me. Yes. And you told Gareth Smith where you found me?”
“He threatened Rachel.”
He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. It’s longer now than he ever had it, the first time he hasn’t been in the military. It probably makes him look more like me.
“I understand. Well, he’s smart enough to know that I’d be the highest bidder for you, Jake. But that man won’t stop there. If I’m right, he’s already sold the information about where I am, where you are, to someone else. Maybe Liesel—but that won’t be a problem. It’s the others we have to worry about. We have to get out of here, soon.”
Crap. I’m still not safe, even here. And I’ve brought them to Dad too. None of this is going how I thought it would. Where’s the relief? The happy reunion? It feels … wrong.
“How do you know about Liesel?” I ask.
He shakes his head, sharp. “Not now.”
I’m so tired of hearing that. “What is this place, Dad? Why are you in an underground base trying to get people to tunnel?”
He stands, his hands in his pockets, and turns away. I can’t see his face. “This is my base.” It’s so quiet I strain to hear it. “My project.”
“Making tunnels like me?” My eyes fill, and I remember the memorial marker again, huddling with Myka, Mom, and Dedushka. My breathing seems amplified. I hear it loud in my ears. “You left on purpose? You pretended to die, left us alone, to come here and try to make
tunnels
?”
He turns. “It’s not that simple. You don’t understand how critical this project is, could be, to national security…” He trails off. “But you do understand. They found you.”
I feel my face crumple. “Four months. Underground, being their puppet.”
He closes his eyes and just stands there for a long moment, like a statue. “I tried so hard to keep you out of it.”
I stand too, so we’re face-to-face. We’re the same height now. “But you didn’t. And you’re trying to make more like me? Don’t you think one person with this curse is enough?”
“Curse?” His voice is shocked. “Jake. It’s a gift. A gift I would do anything for.”
I take a step closer. Curl my hands into fists. I can’t believe how much my chest aches right now, like it might cave in on itself. “How much did you know? About me? About what they were doing to me?”
There’s a long pause. Another head shake. “Nothing, I swear. Not until you escaped, and then the general told me. I was very upset. But I think—he realized you might come to me.”
The general. That’s who I recognized in the first tunnel to Dad. The general from that first tunnel in Dad’s office.
He puts his hands on my shoulders. “He’ll pull Liesel off now. Now that you’re here, we’re together. We’ll work together. We’ll have to be underground—not here, but there are other bases—”
I pull back sharply, and his hands fall. I can’t believe he’d even say that.
“I’m not tunneling for you. Or anyone. I’m not staying underground anymore.”
He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Jake. There isn’t a choice. Now that they know, everyone knows. Gareth Smith will try to sell you to foreign governments, terrorists. Maybe he already has. I’m sorry, but you can’t be up there anymore. Neither of us can.”
The ache twists deeper, sharper. Ever since I knew he was alive, all I wanted was to find him. Save him. Reunite our family. And he wants
this
?
“I’d rather take my chances out there,” I say violently.
He doesn’t say he won’t let me, that I’m a prisoner, a tool, to him too. My own father. But it’s there in the look he gives me.
“Take me to Rachel,” I say. “I need to make sure she’s all right.”
“And that.” He thrusts his hands in his pockets again, like he’s making fists too. “I can’t believe you brought a civilian—”
“
I’m
a civilian. I’m staying a civilian.”
We stare at each other, eye to eye.