He turned back to look across the lawn. “I have to go back for her.”
“No way,” Peter said right away. “No fucking way. We agreed, anybody gets caught, we leave without them. . . .”
Evan didn’t budge.
“Kid, get in the fucking bus. We’re moving, now.”
He looked to Emma. She was still holding Eddy but staring back at him. “You can get in there without getting caught?” she asked.
He nodded.
Peter fell back against the driver’s seat. “You’re serious about this?”
Evan nodded.
“Alright,” Peter growled. “Hurry, buddy. Or we’re leaving without you.”
Neesha.
THE ARC ROOM was soundproof, so whatever was transpiring outside the office, it was in a different world. Neesha clung to a lip of the wall, the only thing keeping her balanced, squeezing it between fingers on both hands with rapidly deteriorating strength. She couldn’t stay up here forever. Eventually, they’d come back in here, and as soon as the full lights were on, she’d be entirely visible. She held a deep breath, then released it, letting go of the bar and dropping to the ground.
By the grace of the holy whatever, she landed on the floor clean, her legs and hands absorbing her fall with painful, unexceptional impact. She checked her limbs, her neck, her head—everything was intact. She fumbled along the top of the computer system, where supplies were stacked. She felt her way to a sharp instrument, some kind of delicate lever, and clutched it in her hands, hiding behind the ARC.
For thirty minutes, she sat. Outside, in Dr. Richardson’s office, she pictured Evan and Emma starting to endure the first moments of torture: drugs, memories, machines; everything seemed on the table after Emma’s description. And all of it would soon be coming for her.
Maybe she deserved it, to bear the weight of everyone else’s punishment, to account not just for what she’d done but what she’d done to everyone else. None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for her, after all. The school wouldn’t have seen the false spike in results; they wouldn’t have moved Emma into torture. Students were panicking, crashing, almost dying from Apex, and why? So she could win some fucking trophy?
The massive door behind her slid open.
It was silent. The ARC refracted the flashlight beam into a thousand shimmers around the room, but no sound entered. She looked back to the door to the office, waiting for Dr. Richardson to come through.
“Hello?” a tiny voice whispered from the doorway. “Neesha?”
Her body melted. “Holy shit, Evan?”
He came rushing in, materializing in the shimmering light. She dropped the lever and threw her arms around him. “You came back,” she said. “You saved me.”
He pushed his way out from under her. “Not yet,” he said, and he grabbed her hand.
Her heart flattened again as she remembered their plan’s failure to this point. “Did she get Zaza?” she asked as he guided her through the dark.
“We can’t,” Evan said, poking his head out Dr. Richardson’s door.
“Evan, if we don’t, she’ll kill them.”
“She’ll kill us—”
A flashlight flipped on in front of them, pointed directly at their eyes. It was overwhelmingly bright, but by the time Neesha blinked herself back to clarity, her whole chest collapsed.
Yanis was holding the flashlight, standing in the middle of Dr. Richardson’s lobby. He grabbed them by their shirts, steering them to the chairs in front of her office. “Sit down,” he whispered violently.
She didn’t, buckling her knees to fight back.
“Sit down, Neesha,” he ordered again.
“Fuck you,” she said. “Fuck you for working for them, fuck you for all of this—”
As soon as Yanis reached for her, she swung at him, screaming, “Run, Evan!” but he received the blow without flinching and yanked her into the chair. Evan didn’t even have time to stand up.
He secured them both with tape and waved down another maintenance worker outside the room. “Get Dr. Richardson,” he barked, then closed the door, leaving a small crack to the outside hallway.
He stared between them. “Whatever you all are up to, it’s not worth it.”
He perched on the table, spreading his legs to maximize the threat of his size. Every time Neesha’d spoken to him, he’d been perfectly calm; now he was visibly angry.
Evan spoke. “I thought—you weren’t going to do anything to hurt the students.”
“That’s what I do now,” Yanis growled. “Respond to threats.”
“What’s going to happen to us?”
Yanis shook his head. “I’ve heard this school is pretty good at punishment. Right, Neesha? Isn’t that what you said?”
“You lied.”
Yanis shook his head again.
“Yes you did,” Evan began to shout. “You said you wanted to help us—”
“I am helping you—”
“Y-you said you wanted to help her! And now you’re torturing her.”
Yanis was quiet for a moment, absorbing Evan’s tiny wrath. “Torturing her? If going to this school is torture to you, I suggest you widen your view of—”
“Don’t be fucking stupid!” Neesha joined in. “We know what you all were doing.”
“What we were doing?” Yanis’s voice softened.
“Training us, just so you could torture us! We know about everything—”
Yanis stood up but she didn’t stop.
“—and more than that, everyone knows. And you may have us in here, but this isn’t going to last long. There are students that have already gotten out of here, and they’re going to fucking ruin you—”
“Wait.” Yanis held his hands to his face, as though trying to stop an imaginary bag from going over his head. “All of this tonight—kidnapping Dr. Richardson, breaking in here—is because you think they’re . . . training you?”
“They are. It’s n—it’s not a school,” Evan spat.
Yanis processed for a moment before speaking again. “Training you for what?”
A noise from the corner of the room stopped his sentence dead. The door to the room creaked open, and Dr. Richardson stepped inside.
There was makeup obscuring the edges of her eyes, and her normally straight hair had swelled in volume, windblown and blocking parts of her face. Slowly, she pulled it back.
“Where is she?” she asked quietly.
Neither of them made a noise.
“Where is she, Mr. Andrews?”
Neesha could feel the light pulsing and Evan shaking in his chair next to her, but he kept his mouth shut.
“If you’re here,” Dr. Richardson said lightly, begging Evan to offer her something, “then maybe . . .” She looked to her office, to the secret door that was still open.
“Who are you talking about?” Yanis asked, bewildered.
Dr. Richardson didn’t say anything to him, grasping Neesha’s wrist.
“Do you want me to go get somebody else—”
“No,” Dr. Richardson said.
“Are you sure?” Yanis asked.
Dr. Richardson ignored him. Neesha could feel her glare from below, and the slow and terrifying curl of her fingers against her skin as she squeezed.
“I’ll take them one by one in my office. Keep everyone else out.” Neesha felt herself pulled to her feet, but her eyes stayed on Yanis, who was watching Dr. Richardson’s wrist intently.
“I’d like to be there—”
“No,” she cut him off without looking at him, and dragged Neesha toward the door.
“I know where she is,” Evan said, standing up.
“Sit down, Mr. Andrews—”
“A-and you’re never going to find her.”
Neesha felt rage rise inside Dr. Richardson. Dr. Richardson’s eyes jumped back and forth for a moment, then she sighed. “Fine. But you’re next.” She pushed Neesha back into her chair and grabbed Evan’s wrist. Evan fought back, w
riggling to get away from her, but she clasped him by the back of the neck, dragging him forward.
Neesha stared in horror but Evan wouldn’t return her gaze. His eyes were fixed blankly on Dr. Richardson’s face. Without a word, she marched him into her office, slamming the door behind her.
Evan.
“YOU KNOW, I realized I was wasting a lot of powerful thought energy being upset about what happened here tonight. But do you know what I remembered?”
Evan didn’t respond. The plastic bands tightly gripping his arms were on an electrical system that must have been operated near to where he was sitting; every time he tried to fight back, a small jolt of electricity rocked his skin. If he could figure out where it was, he might be able to figure out how to get out of it.
“I remembered that I am creator and created. I get to control how I think, and how I think will influence my reality. It’s one of our most simple credos, but it’s one that we firmly believe: I do not make the world, but I do make my world. I choose where I stand. I control my emotions. And in doing so, I control my world.”
None of the computer systems or machines in the room were on except the one that mattered, the ARC behind him; its base glowed blue, with a low hum, consistent and melodic, pitching up as the machine pulled more energy, pitching down as it settled. For the moment, Dr. Richardson had only taken a white, rectangular clipboard off the desk, and was sitting cross-legged in front of him on a stool, reading off it.
“Anyway,” she said, without acknowledging him, or stopping her eyes as they ran across the page in front of her. “Tonight was a frustration, but ultimately, we’ll persevere.”
Evan squeezed his tongue between his teeth and prayed that everyone else had gotten out already, and Dr. Richardson would be entirely wrong.
“Just need to tie up loose ends.”
“W-what are—are—”
“God. Your stutter. It’s insufferable.”
Evan could feel himself shaking; still he tried to smooth his voice. “What? Are you going to do?”
“We’re going to do an experiment. It probably will fail, but that’s the whole point. That’s how we evolve. Weeding out our undesirable traits. Our failures.”
Evan could feel the power of the machine behind him.
“I-is—this wha-what happened to—to Eddy?”
Dr. Richardson nodded into her clipboard. “Edward failed, too. We think. We won’t know for sure, until—well. It’s a lot.”
“What happens?”
Dr. Richardson stopped reading. “Okay,” she said to her lap, then set the clipboard on a small table next to her. She pulled her stool closer, looking into Evan’s face with a passive stare, her eyebrows raised. “In order for you to understand the importance of what you’re about to attempt, you need to know some of the important history of this place, and of our people.”
“I’m no-not your people.”
She smiled. “Oh, yes. Yes you are.”
Neesha.
NEESHA WATCHED YANIS stare at the door where Evan and Dr. Richardson had just disappeared.
“You just signed his death warrant,” she said.
Yanis didn’t react. “I . . . I don’t get it.”
She sat up, battling the tape. “Then let me make it crystal clear. This school is experimenting on students. They’re preparing us, like fucking animals, to use us in whatever fucked-up experiments they’re running. And just now, when she said ‘you’re next’—that means she’s going to do it to me. And you’re protecting them.”
It was silent for an impossibly long moment.
“So this whole time,” Yanis said slowly, tonguing the inside of his teeth between phrases. “That’s what you were all afraid of?”
Neesha nodded.
“I’ve been looking for Emma . . . for her? So she could . . .”
Neesha nodded again.
“They can’t—I mean, she wouldn’t . . .” Yanis marched up to the door to Dr. Richardson’s office and slammed the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. He felt along the face of the door, over to the edge, and slid his finger down it. He slammed his hand against it in fury. “This is reinforced steel. Why would a psychology teacher . . .”
Neesha didn’t say anything.
Yanis backed away from it, weightless until his body connected with the wall. He stared at his own hands for a long moment. “The boy,” he said, barely loud enough for her to hear. “The one who can’t speak . . .”
“He was a sociology student,” Neesha said. “He had the Bible memorized. He had friends. They did that to him. And he’s been stuck here ever since.”
Yanis looked mortified.
“Hey,” she whispered. “You’re supposed to protect the people around you, right? You said that you’re one of the good guys. Did you really mean that?”
She watched him reclaim himself, inhaling through his nose and curling back up to his full posture. “I did. I do.”
“Then help me get out of here.”
His eyes shot around the lobby. Through windows, they could see several other maintenance workers moving through the building. He nodded.
“What about the others?” she asked.
“Aiden’s in my office. In the GRC.”
“What about Zaza?”
He nodded. “Same.”
Neesha sat up a little farther. “You have to help me.”
His eyes lingered on Dr. Richardson’s door for a second longer. “Okay,” he said. “Okay—” He moved quickly to unbind her. “We can go to my office, grab your friends, and—where do you need to go?”
“The back lawn, behind the maintenance shed.”
He nodded. “I can get you there.”
Neesha marched to the door, but Yanis didn’t move. She turned around.
“What about . . .” He nodded toward the closed door.
Neesha swallowed. “He’s a hero.” She stared through the door, cringing at the image of him inside. She said a final prayer for Evan and turned to leave the room.
Their walk became a run as they tore down the Human Building hallways toward the GRC. Yanis stopped in the middle of the hallway and spun on her. He grabbed her aggressively by the shoulders and threw her against the wall, forcing her hands together behind her back.
“Ah,” she screamed. “What the fuck are you—”
“Shut up,” he barked loudly, shoving her farther into the wall. “Dr. Richardson has been looking for you—”
Neesha swallowed her response, letting her forehead fall against the wall. Past him, down the hallway, she could see another maintenance worker, his head turned in their direction, watching.
“Sorry,” he whispered between his teeth. “That was a little hard, I’m sorry.” He turned her away from where the man stood and began to march. “Pretend to fight back a little.”
“Gladly.” She swung her right foot back toward him, connecting with his shin. Yanis winced behind her.
After they were gone, Yanis started marching her toward the C-School exit, then veered right, through the P-School. Once inside the GRC, he let go of her hands, and she began to sprint toward his office door.
Aiden and Zaza were seated in the only two chairs in the room, as far from the door as possible. Both of their heads were hanging in the dark. Neither looked up when they entered.
“Guys,” she said cautiously.
Zaza’s face shot up when he saw Neesha with Yanis. He began to scream. “No! Let her go! She didn’t do shit!”
“Guys!” She tried to calm them, but Zaza had descended into full-on panic. “No, no, no! She doesn’t deserve this! She didn’t have anything to do with—”
“Zaza,” she said, grabbing him by the face. “I’m here to get you out.”
His eyes were electrified with shock and bright red with tears, but the second they met hers, his face melted into her shoulder. “Ah, fuck . . .” He sobbed against her jacket.
“You did it, you little plebe.”
He sniveled. “Who’s inert no
w, bitch?”
She squeezed his hand.
Aiden wasn’t speaking, his whole face dripping with blood and sweat. Yanis scooped him up by the arm. “Every exterior door is locked, mechanically. We’re going to have to figure out another way.”
“There’s a window on the second floor,” Neesha offered, cautiously checking Zaza’s expression.
“I can catch,” he offered.
They ran through the hallways with heads down, ready to jump into punishment formation at any point. Yanis kept his eyes high and around, Neesha kept hers forward, charging toward the C-School Lounge.
“Hey.” A maintenance man emerged from a door to their right. “Aren’t you—”
Before Yanis could say a thing, Zaza swung hard at the man with a right hook, without stopping their momentum. It wasn’t powerful, but it was enough to send him stumbling backward. “Sorry,” he mumbled to the man as they passed.
“Holy shit,” Neesha muttered to him. “Where’d that come from?”
Zaza smiled.
They reached the lounge, where Neesha went straight to work on the second-floor window, cutting a precision circle with Yanis’s blade. Zaza moved around the room, muscling the furniture in front of every door. Yanis stayed on the ground floor at the exposed door.
Aiden was standing but swaying, still unable to raise his eyes. “Hey.” She grabbed his face. “Can you handle this?”
Aiden nodded.
“I think we’re ready,” she said, leaning over the railing.
He looked up to face her. “If anyone hears it, I can give you two minutes. As soon as you’re out, run. Don’t look back, don’t wait for anybody.”
“You’re not coming?” Neesha asked.
Yanis shook his head. “You’ve just told me every student here is in danger.” He paused, regaining his composure. “I can help them if I stay. What kind of a person would I be if I left?”
Neesha stared at the door as he closed it behind him.
Redemption Prep Page 25
