by Sara Saedi
“I hit rock bottom when I lost Wylie, but I pulled myself up. I hate having to see her every day. It’s just a reminder that she brought out the worst in me. Not like you. You brought out the best in me when we were together.”
Phinn placed his hand on top of her palm, and Olivia let him.
“They say the hands are a dead giveaway when it comes to someone’s age,” Olivia said, looking at hers self-consciously. “You can get a hundred rounds of Botox, but people can always tell how old you are when they look at your hands. Mine are so wrinkled now.”
“I think they look porcelain,” said Phinn, trying to sound sincere.
The truth was, her hands were soft and warm to the touch. There was something maternal in the way she moved that actually made him crave being in her presence. His interactions with adults during his trips to the mainland had been few and far between. He usually preferred to ask fellow teenagers for directions on the subway or whether they knew about any parties he could crash in search of new recruits. The only time he spoke to grown-ups was if he got hungry and needed to stop somewhere for fast food.
“Do you want to go for a flight together?” Phinn asked Olivia.
“No,” she answered flatly.
“I don’t mean here,” he said. “I mean outside.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Why? Because people could see us?”
Olivia shook her head. “There isn’t anyone other than BioLark staff around for miles.”
“Then why not?”
“Because I don’t trust you,” she replied.
“I just want to see the real sky,” he begged. “With you. Like the night we met.”
“It was so long ago, I can barely remember,” she said dismissively, but Phinn knew she was lying. He was certain she played the highlight reel in her head more times than she’d care to admit. If she were truly over him, then she would have moved on with her life. She’d have kids to go home to and maybe a husband who’d surprise her with flowers when there was no occasion for them. The island and Phinn and everyone else would be a distant memory.
“Remember when your grandma saw us flying?” Phinn asked.
“No. I told you. I don’t remember much about that night,” replied Olivia, but her smile betrayed her.
Even Phinn couldn’t help but laugh at the memory. Olivia’s wealthy and uptight grandmother had been drinking a dirty martini on the balcony of the mansion when she saw Phinn and Olivia fly by and flash her their middle fingers. She promptly spilled the drink on herself and started ranting and raving that she’d seen the ghost of her granddaughter. Everyone assumed it was the first signs of dementia, but Phinn knew the tirade would give them chills when they found Olivia’s bedroom empty the next morning.
“Do you know what happened to her?” Phinn asked.
“She died,” Olivia said. “Just weeks after you sent me into exile. Your timing wasn’t bad. At least it gave her an opportunity to put me back in her will.”
“See,” Phinn said. “There’s always a silver lining.”
He tickled the palm of her hand and insisted that the best way to honor her grandmother’s memory was for them to take flight together.
“You’re the expert on parvaz,” Phinn argued. “You know the exact dosage that would prevent me from flying away.”
It took a little more cajoling, but Olivia finally relented. She warned him that the small dose of parvaz she was giving him would last a mere fifteen minutes, and she was also going to keep a Taser in her pocket and a syringe full of sedatives in case he had any ideas about getting away.
“Honestly, Olivia. Where would I go? I’ve got food in my belly and a bed to sleep in and you’re not even charging me rent.”
They walked along the deck, past the Clearing and the kids trickling in from dinner. Phinn expected them to make their way through the lab, but Olivia escorted him into a bungalow instead.
Had his skills of seduction worked too well? Was she going to expect him to sleep with her? She turned on a light in the bungalow, and Phinn breathed a sigh of relief to see there was no bed in it. Aside from a chair, the room was completely bare. Olivia dragged the chair to the center of the floor and Phinn watched as she stood on top of it. She used her BioLark card to scan the ceiling and a door slid open. A ladder made out of rope came swinging down.
Olivia climbed the ladder first and waited for Phinn to follow. He was surprised to feel the warmth of the sun against his skin. It was nighttime inside BioLark, but daytime in real life. She took Phinn’s hand and helped pull him up to the rooftop of the dome-shaped building. She was right. There was nobody here for miles. They were in the thick of the forest.
“It’s nothing like the island out here,” she said, somewhat sheepishly.
“I know,” Phinn agreed, “But that’s why I like it.”
Phinn hardly noticed that they were still holding hands as they levitated to the treetops. He could have escaped if he’d wanted. He could have squirmed out of her grip and flown away before she had a chance to use her Taser or inject him with liquid sleep.
But he decided against it. He wasn’t going to abandon Wylie and the others.
* * *
The finer points of Wylie’s plan had only been discussed a few times. It was nothing like those weeks on Hopper’s boat when they’d dissected each bullet point of Operation Exile in painful detail. Their bevy of chaperones and rigid schedules didn’t afford them the luxury of fleshing out every scenario or coming up with fail-safe excuses if they got caught. Pulling it off would require strong instincts, the ability to improvise, and complete fearlessness. They were all traits that Wylie felt she no longer possessed. It was easy to second-guess herself without any tips or assurances from her best friend, but there had been no sign of Lola and Maz since Olivia had wheeled her out of the Clearing the night before.
Before she met Phinn, Wylie used to be confident about her choices—however impulsive or risky they were. She was never indecisive. Her old best friend Vanessa used to have lengthy internal debates about every mundane event in her life. If she wanted a new haircut, it meant months of compiling styles to her Pinterest board and agonizing over which look would best flatter her face. Meanwhile, Wylie was the type who woke up craving a change, and walked right into a salon with a precise idea of what she wanted. The voice of self-doubt that questioned her every thought and action was a recent addition. For today, Wylie would have to ignore it.
Tinka was tasked with keeping tabs on Phinn and Olivia. But as Tinka glided toward the lagoon, Wylie couldn’t tell whether she had good or bad news to report. She landed on her feet, took a minor stumble, and waited until none of the orderlies were paying attention to her. She cleared her throat and gave a subtle nod toward the deck, then walked away toward Hopper and Micah. Wylie glanced at the deck and spotted Phinn trailing behind Dr. Weckler. She wondered how much charisma and fake vulnerability he had to exude to get on her good side again. After years of harbored angst, how had Phinn convinced her to give him the benefit of the doubt with one brief conversation? Wylie would never be fooled so easily by a guy again. She’d happily be alone forever rather than have the rug pulled out from under her by someone she loved.
They disappeared into a bungalow and closed the door.
Wylie grabbed the elastic on her wrist and tied her hair into a messy ponytail. The action triggered her least favorite stage of their plan. It wouldn’t be fun watching her youngest brother get his ass handed to him, but they needed to create a diversion.
“Tell your girlfriend to get away from me,” Hopper snapped at Micah.
“Tell her yourself. I’m not your mouthpiece,” Micah replied.
If Wylie could yell “cut,” she would have interrupted to tell Micah to take his anger up a few notches.
“I don’t want the crazy bitch anywhere near me.” Hopper’s acting abilit
ies were far more convincing, but he had plenty of motivation. Tinka wasn’t exactly his favorite person.
“Don’t you ever call her that again,” Micah yelled. Tinka pulled at his arm and insisted that she could fight her own battles, but Hopper wouldn’t stop.
“She cut off my fingers,” Hopper yelled back. “I think that makes me entitled to call her a crazy bitch.”
Hopper put his hands on Micah’s chest and shoved him so hard he fell to the ground. Micah scrambled to his feet and reciprocated the push. Wylie hurried over and tried to get between them, but Hopper grabbed her brother in a headlock and wrestled him into the dirt. The orderlies and nurses were quick to surround them, but none volunteered to step in. Without Olivia, they were afraid of the kids. Their last act of rebellion had left Nurse Conway permanently blind in one eye.
But a quick escalation of one-way punches from Hopper made it seem like Wylie’s only recourse was to shout for help.
“Do something! They’re going to kill each other!” she begged the staff.
Nurse Conway finally intervened and pulled Hopper off Micah. Hopper kicked and shrieked as Nurse Conway dragged him away. He was brave, Wylie thought. The punishment for fighting was a night spent beneath the floorboards of the dining hall. Bandit had suffered the same consequence for trying to take his own life, and said the room was pitch black and freezing cold. She knew it would be traumatic for Hopper to spend an entire night in close quarters by himself.
She watched as Hopper writhed and yelled at Nurse Conway to back off. His vehemence was so realistic that if Wylie hadn’t known he was faking it, she’d be afraid of him. Hopper was unhinged and intense in all the ways they needed him to be for their plan to succeed. It was no wonder the other kids had spent so much time convinced he was going to kill them. He seemed capable of anything. Wylie carefully made her approach and pretended to try to get Hopper to calm down.
“You need to breathe. Stop acting crazy. Tell Nurse Conway you’re sorry,” she kept repeating.
“Screw that!”Hopper yelled, sending several drops of spit onto her cheek.
Wylie grabbed his arm, obscured him with her body, and firmly told him to calm down. But Hopper’s legs flew in the air and forced her to back away. She hoped the rest of the employees hadn’t notice the sleight of hand. Just as it looked like he might kick her, Hopper had placed Nurse Conway’s ID tag in the pocket of Wylie’s scrubs.
As Nurse Conway dragged Hopper away toward solitary, Wylie was suddenly startled by a sensation that she might never see him again. The minutiae of their plan had taken up so much of her focus that she’d never stopped to think what could happen if it fell apart. She wished that they’d said a proper good-bye when they had the chance. If she had less on her mind, she would have let him kiss her under the downpour of the waterfall.
“Are you okay?” she asked Micah, while he fought to catch his breath.
The abrasions and soon-to-be bruises on his face would take weeks to properly heal. Wylie and Joshua pretended to scold and lecture him for his anger issues, and Micah reacted by cursing Hopper under his breath. The BioLark staff had already retreated to their usual posts along the Clearing, so Wylie approached a nearby orderly who was known to be more pleasant than his colleagues. She smiled at him sweetly, apologized for the chaos, and asked for permission to retire to their bungalow so Micah could simmer down. The orderly insisted on escorting them back to their bungalow, but en route to their room, they heard Nurse Conway yelling for help with Hopper. As luck would have it, the orderly hurried off and Wylie and her brothers slipped away in the opposite direction.
The three of them rushed past the bungalows, through the dining room, and toward the wing of the BioLark labs that led to Olivia’s office. Wylie hadn’t seen her office since the day they’d been herded into the building, but hoped they would be able to navigate the maze of hallways until they found it. A pair of wide metal doors blocked their way through the entrance, but Wylie waved Nurse Conway’s ID card in front of them, and they swung open.
There was plenty Wylie liked about wearing scrubs every day. Not only were they airy and comfortable, but they also didn’t do much to differentiate them from the BioLark staff. If they moved quickly enough, anyone who caught a glimpse of them on a security monitor would think they were nurses on their way to a meeting.
But the corridors intersected more times than Wylie remembered, and every left or right turn felt like it could be taking them further away from Olivia’s office. She knew Dr. Jay’s hospital room was near the dining room, but she had no clue where it was in association to Olivia’s office. Hopefully Phinn was whispering enough sweet nothings to keep Olivia distracted.
“Do you know where we’re going?” Joshua asked.
“I think so,” Wylie lied.
If only she still had the compass that Joshua gave her, so that she could keep track of each turn they’d taken. They reached another crossroad of hallways and glanced down each one. The smell of coconut and pineapple suddenly hit Wylie’s nostrils.
“This way,” she said, pointing toward the direction the fruity notes were wafting from. Before they could follow the scent, they spotted an orderly walking toward them and glancing at his phone.
They turned around and pressed their bodies against the wall, silently praying that he would turn down a different corner. Instead, he walked right past them, never peeling his eyes away from his device. After months without an iPhone, Wylie had forgotten how hypnotic they could be.
Once the orderly was a safe distance away, they turned and headed toward what was hopefully Olivia’s office. They finally reached the end of the hallway and found a lone door next to an elevator bank. The fragrance of tropical fruit was so strong that it made Wylie’s eyes water. She reached for the knob and let out a surprised gasp when she realized the door wasn’t locked.
The lights were off when they tiptoed into the office, but turned on automatically once they sensed movement. Wylie quietly closed the door behind them. She checked the clock on the wall. The time read noon, which was odd considering it was bedtime beyond the labs and offices.
“I’m giving us five minutes,” she said. “Keep your eye on the time.”
Wylie felt like they were playing the bonus round on a game show, as the second hand ticked and they swiftly rifled through drawers and files, looking for maps or blueprints of tunnels that could help get them home. The first phase of their plan was finding the exit, and then they might have to wait days to enact an exit strategy.
The drawers were meticulously organized and color-coded. Olivia kept files with notes from each of their therapy sessions, along with results from the daily tests and experiments they were forced to undergo. Wylie’s eyes went wide when she found several ultrasound photos in Lola’s file. She decided to pocket them so they could be returned to their rightful owners. She felt a twinge of guilt as she glimpsed Joshua’s files and saw enough to know his therapy sessions were devoted to Katie Anderson and his guilt about the accident in the Hamptons that had put her in a coma.
The clock read 12:03 p.m. Their window was closing. Wylie had no idea how long Phinn would be able to keep Olivia or what could happen if they got caught. They might be put in medically induced comas, just like Dr. Jay. If they didn’t find information on the supposed tunnels, they might never make it beyond the walls of BioLark. Lola would have her baby here. They would all turn eighteen and then none of them would be able to return to the island anyway.
She looked at the phone and computer sitting on Olivia’s desk.
“Screw the island,” Wylie said aloud.
Micah and Joshua turned to look at her as she grabbed the telephone on the desk. She tried to dial 9-1-1 but the line was dead.
“What are you doing?” Micah asked.
“Getting us out of here.”
Wylie sat down at Olivia’s computer, but the screen was locked and re
quired a password. She typed in Minor Island, but that was invalid. Phinn and BioLark also didn’t work.
“You’re never going to guess her password,” Joshua said.
But there was one more she wanted to try. Wylie quickly typed in the words: beyond compare and found herself logged in to Olivia’s desktop. She double-clicked on the web browser and quickly navigated it to the Facebook homepage. It had been a while since she’d accessed her account, but her password, Microplane1, for her favorite cooking accessory, still worked. She ignored the hundreds of notifications and went straight to the Facebook Live option.
Wylie looked straight into the camera and spoke as quickly as possible:
“My name is Wylie Dalton. I went missing from New York City with my brothers several months ago. A woman named Olivia Weckler is keeping us in a facility in upstate New York. I don’t know where we are exactly. It was about a three-hour drive from Manhattan. The roads were covered in potholes. We turned left at the train tracks. We walked a mile through the woods across three streams. It smelled like maple or fenugreek. We are in danger. There are fifty other kids—”
The door burst open and a furious Olivia stood in the frame. A worried Phinn stood beside her. Wylie quickly closed the window on the computer.
“What the hell are you doing in my office?” Olivia yelled.
Phinn moved in front of Olivia and used his arm to block her way.
“Don’t punish them,” he said. “This was my idea. They didn’t do anything wrong. I promise.”
Olivia pushed her way past Phinn and grabbed Wylie by her hair.
“Do you think I’m an idiot?” Olivia asked.
“Yes,” Wylie snapped back. “You fell for it. You thought Phinn wanted to spend alone time with you. He played you again.”
“Then I guess he’ll need to be punished,” Olivia said coldly.
Wylie felt something pinch her skin. She didn’t know what was happening to her, but from the sober expressions on her brothers’ faces, she knew everything was about to get worse. It didn’t matter. Olivia was too late. Someone would see her video. Someone would try to find them.
