Nine

by Rachelle Dekker

  Something tickled the center of my chest.

  Lucy! Can you hear me?

  Her voice was fading, softer than it had been a moment ago. I was losing her, and I was stuck in my mind. The water had filled the glass box to the brim. My lungs burned as I held my breath. I kicked at the glass. I twisted my body, using the back panel as a holding point and smashing the front with my right heel. Over and over. Nothing, not even a crack.

  I pushed off the back panel and placed both palms on the front, bracing myself there. I pounded the glass with my balled fists. My vision was starting to blur. There was no oxygen getting to my brain. My body felt like a stone as I fought to keep myself afloat.

  I was drowning. But I wasn’t afraid like I had been before. Fear was replaced with manic desires to get back and save Zoe. She was all that mattered.

  Another buzzing sensation tapped at my chest, but I ignored it.

  What if I just let myself drown? The thought came as easy as a whisper. Just open my mouth and set myself free. Could I do that? Zoe would say this was my mind. I was in control.

  Then another thought, like a feather drifting from the sky, landed on my brain. What if there wasn’t any water in the box at all? What if I just thought there was? Could I change it to air? Could I inhale air?

  A sensation of power rumbled deep in my gut. Then, without letting my self-doubt overcorrect my instinct, I opened my mouth. There was no rush of water, only life-giving air.

  I was breathing, fully submerged. In a water tank.

  Come on, Lucy, wake up!

  Zoe’s voice was back. I shut my eyes and imagined the barn. Every surface and corner. Lying on the table, connected to DOT, Zoe on one side, Dr. Loveless on the other. When I opened my eyes, I would be there, I told myself.

  Wake up, wake up!

  I took another lungful of air. Air I had changed from water.

  And opened my eyes.

  ZOE HEARD THE gunshots. Her body froze, her mind registering what that meant and terror filling her bones. Lucy lay beside her, fully submerged in her own subconscious. Gina, pacing nearby, came to a full stop.

  Another bullet cracked the air outside the barn. Not on top of them but too close.

  Zoe looked down at Lucy and then back at Gina. “What’s happening?”

  “I don’t know,” Gina said. “Get her out.”

  “Lucy, you have to come back,” Zoe said.

  Eyes closed, Lucy replied, “What? Zoe, what’s going on?”

  Before Zoe could answer, Seeley parted the sheets around Lucy’s bed. He looked at Gina, gun in hand. “It’s the army.”

  “Did you know they were coming?” Gina asked.

  Zoe thought the question was odd.

  “No! There’s a south path off this property, correct?” Seeley asked.

  “What are you suggesting?” Gina asked. “That we run?”

  “What else would you have us do?”

  Gina looked stunned, and it made the panic in Zoe’s chest rage. The doctor didn’t seem nearly as concerned as she should be.

  “What is going on here?” Zoe demanded.

  Gina turned to Zoe to say something, but before she could, Seeley yanked back his weapon and brought it down hard against Gina’s skull. The doctor didn’t have time to react as the blow knocked her out cold.

  Zoe turned to Seeley, stunned and confused.

  “How did they know we’re here?” he asked.

  Had Gina given them up? Seeley seemed to think so, and Zoe didn’t have time to think.

  “Wake her up! We have to get out of here,” Seeley said, pointing to Lucy.

  Zoe turned, heart jumping into her throat, and placed both hands on Lucy’s shoulders. “Lucy, come back! Come back now!”

  Gunfire exploded through the barn, and Seeley stepped through the curtain and started firing.

  Zoe returned her attention to the girl. She started shaking her. “Lucy, Lucy, please come back! We’re under attack!”

  The girl lay motionless. She wasn’t responding. She was too deep, lost in her own thoughts. Zoe dug her nails into her palms. How was she supposed to reach her now? She could zap her like Gina did when things got too dangerous.

  The manual defibrillator was stationed a couple of feet away. Zoe rushed for the chunky box and lifted it off the table. She placed it on the edge of the bed with a hard thump and yanked the top open. She stared down at the inside. She had no idea how to work this thing. What if she hurt Lucy?

  Three bullets—bang, bang, bang—launched from Seeley’s gun and echoed across the barn’s open space. Zoe hunkered down. She didn’t have time for second-guessing.

  God help me.

  She followed the visual instructions on the inside of the lid. After placing two soft plastic pads on Lucy’s chest, Zoe flipped the defibrillator to life. Her stomach rolled in a wave of nausea. She waited as the machine charged up to send electric waves into the girl lying lifeless on the table.

  There were no paddles like she’d seen in the movies, just flashing warning lights. Then a green “go” signal, a static voice that instructed her to stay clear of the body, and a button to push. One, two, three, went her mental countdown, and she pressed the big red circle.

  A surge pulsed through the wires and into the pads as Lucy’s chest gave a small jerk. Zoe waited. Nothing.

  “Lucy! Can you hear me?”

  Still nothing.

  Again.

  As quickly as possible Zoe reenergized the defibrillator and waited for the light to go green. Another press, another jolt. Again, nothing.

  “Come on!” Zoe cried. Once more the seconds felt endless. Bullets plunked against the outside walls of the barn.

  Seeley stepped inside the curtained box and reloaded his handgun. “We have to move,” he yelled.

  The light gave Zoe the go, and she pushed the button. Shock rumbled through Lucy for a third time. “Come on, Lucy, wake up!”

  Her body lurched; her face remained unresponsive.

  Seeley fired, the end of his gun poking out just beyond the white panel. “We have to move her now, Zoe!”

  Zoe slammed her fist over and over against the table where Lucy lay. “Wake up, wake up!” she screamed.

  Lucy’s eyes sprang open, and Zoe nearly jumped back in surprise, but recovered.

  “Lucy,” she cried, placing her hands on the girl’s face. Then she remembered herself and the situation they were in. She yanked the pads from Lucy’s chest. “We have to go.”

  “They found us,” Lucy said, already moving off the table, legs pounding like steel cylinders to Seeley’s side. In one fluid move, she unhooked Seeley’s extra sidearm from his belt, cocked it, stepped beyond the curtain, and started to fire.

  Five shots in perfect rhythm, like it was as easy as breathing. Zoe launched herself after the girl, but Seeley collided with her and yanked her back.

  “We have to go,” he said, his hand tightly around her bicep.

  “We can’t leave her,” Zoe said.

  “We aren’t,” he said. “Remember what she is, Zoe.”

  She looked up at him as he continued to pull her toward the rear of the barn. She watched Lucy move backward through the white sheet out of the curtained box. Gun raised.

  “We have four pursuing from the north,” Lucy said. “Do we have an escape route?”

  “A southern path through the woods,” Seeley said. “I saw a vehicle on the southwest corner.”

  “You head there. I’ll get the doctor.”

  “The doctor’s been compromised,” Seeley said. “Leave her.”

  “But we need her.”

  “We’ll find another way.”

  Lucy snapped her head left. “More coming. I’ll take care of them and meet you.”

  “Lucy!” Zoe cried.

  The girl twisted her head around. “Go!”

  The coldness in her expression sent a shiver down Zoe’s spine. But there wasn’t time to contemplate it, because Seeley was yanking her along again. More
shots sounded behind them as they moved, Zoe trying not to trip on anything.

  They exited the barn, pulled up to a stop. Seeley peered around the corner. “Stay close,” he whispered, firearm raised, and started forward.

  As he moved, Zoe followed, crouched, across the grassy plain west of the barn. Within minutes they were behind the main house.

  “What about McCoy?” Zoe asked, suddenly thinking of the young agent.

  “He can take care of himself. You just worry about following me,” Seeley said. And they were moving again. No discussion, no pause. The chaos back at the barn seemed to fade as they crossed quickly to the back corner of the property.

  Just as Seeley described, an old white Toyota Corolla, covered in age and dirt, sat as part of the landscape.

  “This is our escape?” Zoe asked.

  “You got a better idea?” Seeley fired back.

  He held out his gun for Zoe to hold, and she took it.

  “Keep a lookout. See anyone you don’t know, shoot,” he said.

  Zoe turned with shaky hands and looked back the way they had come as Seeley worked on the car. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the grass made Zoe’s heart lurch. She struggled to get a normal breath.

  A bullet whizzed past her head and struck a thick tree trunk a couple of feet behind her. She cried out and dropped to the ground. She could hear Seeley screaming for her to move, but she felt frozen. She yanked herself out of it, rolled onto her stomach, and started to army-crawl for the bushes, as if leaves could stop the penetration of bullets.

  Zoe tucked herself away, worked on making herself as small as possible. A long moment of silence passed through the air. She tried to peer through the breaks in the thicket.

  There she saw a masked soldier, rifle raised, and Seeley standing in a surrender position. Her heart sank. She felt for the gun she still had clutched in her hand and knew she had to make a move. Slowly, so as to not reveal her hiding place, she inched outward, using the tall grass as slight cover. She got her feet underneath her and tried to stand.

  Something pressed into the back of her skull and clicked. A gun.

  “Drop your weapon,” the voice demanded. It caught the attention of Seeley and the other soldier.

  Holding her breath, Zoe put the gun down and raised her hands toward the sky.

  “Up, slowly,” the man ordered.

  Zoe slowly pushed all the way to standing, her eyes searching Seeley’s for a sign that he had a way to get them out of this. They didn’t reflect anything back.

  She was certain she was about to have her head blown off when the man behind her grunted and the pressure from his weapon left her skull.

  “Duck,” a female voice yelled, and without hesitation Zoe followed orders. She fell, rolled to her back, and scurried away as Lucy came into focus. She had the agent pinned.

  The other across the yard turned to defend his friend. Two shots from the end of his gun, and Lucy moved the agent she was manipulating and used his torso as a shield. The bullets sank into his gut, and his cries of pain rose above them.

  Lucy released her hold of the man, grabbed the gun he’d dropped as he fell, raised it, and pulled the trigger. It clicked empty. She tossed it while in motion toward the second soldier. She pulled a blade from her back pocket as she moved, all so quickly that even as he pulled the trigger to release another shot, she had slid to her knees and across the ground as if it were ice.

  She passed the enemy just to the right of his legs, far enough away not to collide, close enough to slit his ankle. He screamed and toppled forward. Lucy spun, pushing off the ground to a standing position behind him while securing his weapon and without a moment’s hesitation sinking three bullets into his back.

  Zoe’s mouth hung open in shock, and the fallen man beside her groaned. Lucy covered the distance to Zoe in a few easy strides. Even as the man started to cry for help, she put a final bullet into his skull.

  Zoe heard the metal sink through his flesh and crack against the bone. The sound sent a shiver through her spine, and she thought she might vomit.

  Lucy extended her arm toward Zoe, and Zoe accepted her offering. Lucy yanked her up, then turned to Seeley.

  “They’ll send more,” he said. “We need to move now.”

  In a flash the three piled into the old clunker, which by the grace of some higher power roared to life, and they were moving, leaving the barn and collection of dead soldiers behind.

  TWENTY-THREE

  SEELEY DROVE ALONG the narrow road, through the thick forest and wild overgrowth that made the journey unsuitable for anyone with queasy sensibilities. Zoe had to breathe through sickness that kept climbing up into her throat.

  The time passed as the sun started its descent toward the mountains. Zoe wasn’t sure how far they had traveled but felt an overwhelming sense of relief when Seeley slowed the car and pulled in under the cover of a large oak tree.

  Twilight lit the sky as Zoe held down the contents of her stomach just long enough to scramble out of the car away from Seeley and Lucy. She let everything up onto an innocent bush. Her hands were trembling as she gagged, brushing her hair back behind her ears to save the ends. She coughed and cleared the bits of sickness from her mouth before righting her stance and propping herself up against a nearby tree.

  “You alright?” Seeley asked.

  Zoe took a deep breath, wiped her mouth again, and faced them. She nodded and leaned back against the tree.

  “We need to make a plan,” Seeley said, turning his attention to Lucy.

  “Are we sure it was Dr. Loveless?” Lucy asked.

  “Even if it wasn’t, she didn’t want to run. She’s not cut out for this, and now they have her.”

  “We need to continue the work, so how do we do that?” Lucy asked.

  “What do you mean?” Zoe asked.

  “Something happened to me that time. I got past the drowning. I’m so close to tapping into my history. We can’t stop now.”

  “Tell me about what happened,” Seeley said.

  Lucy’s eyes dropped to the ground as she spoke. “I don’t really know. It all felt the same, until . . .”

  “The barn was attacked,” Seeley finished.

  Zoe was surprised by his earnest interest in Lucy’s progress.

  Lucy nodded and looked up at Zoe. “You were in trouble, and I needed to get to you.”

  The sentiment struck Zoe in the gut. The way Lucy was looking at her with such loyalty and fierceness, she wasn’t sure how to respond.

  Lucy turned her eyes back to Seeley. “I cracked something open. I need to go back in. I can remember, I know I can.”

  “We can’t go back to the barn,” Seeley said.

  “There has to be somewhere else we can go.”

  “The only other place I know that has the equipment you need is Xerox.”

  “The black site where Grantham started,” Zoe said, finding her voice. “That is out of the question.”

  “Could you get us in?” Lucy asked, ignoring Zoe.

  “No, stop,” Zoe said.

  Lucy turned to her. “We have to continue. I have to remember. Don’t you understand? I have to remember.”

  “The three of us couldn’t possibly break into a highly secured government black site, and even if we could, what then? Just walk into the lab, use their equipment until you remember, and leave? Think this through, Lucy. What you are talking about is suicide. You might as well hand yourself over to them.”

  “She’s right,” Seeley said.

  “Thank God,” Zoe exclaimed.

  “There has to be a solution,” Lucy said.

  “We should make camp here for now,” Seeley said. “Let me put some feelers out and see what I can uncover, then we make a plan.”

  Lucy exhaled, clearly unhappy, but nodded.

  Seeley held out his phone. “I’m going to have to walk up toward the road to find service. You two get a fire going. It’ll be dark soon.”

  He headed off, leaving
the girls in tension.

  “It’s going to be okay, Lucy,” Zoe said, touching the girl’s arm.

  Lucy yanked it away. “I have to know, Zoe. I can’t stop until I know,” she said, then started toward the woods.

  Zoe, now alone in the middle of nowhere, watched her go. There was nothing she could do. Lucy was determined to remember. Even if it meant getting them all killed.

  TWILIGHT WAS GONE, and all that remained was starlight, a half-moon, and the fire that Seeley continued to stoke. The last couple of hours had seen him and Lucy going over a dozen different plans, with Zoe watching and trying to keep up, trying not to let her panic destroy her nerves. Each idea ended in ruin. They couldn’t agree on anything. Seeley was trying to reach McCoy and wandered to the road each hour to check his phone. It felt like they were stuck in an endless cycle of hopeless plans and irrational ideas. All Zoe could see was their clear end: being captured or being killed. Or both.

  Lucy had gone out to get more firewood, and Seeley sat across the fire from Zoe, carving away at a stick.

  “Are you whittling?” Zoe asked.

  “It’s good for training steady hands,” Seeley answered without looking up.

  “And probably comes in handy when you need a tiny sword.”

  Through the firelight, Zoe could see his face turn up in a smile. He looked up at her. She chuckled softly to herself and was thankful for the momentary escape from the constant horror that was playing in her mind. But it was only momentary. The fear captured her thoughts again, and she dropped her eyes back to the fire.

  “What are the chances any of this works out without us all getting killed?” she asked.

  “You don’t believe in us?” Seeley said.

  “We are three people against the government.”

  “But one of us is Lucy.” He held up his sharpened stick. “And I have a tiny sword.”

  She laughed but couldn’t keep the terror that was racing through her blood out of her expression. She knew he saw it clear as day, and they returned to the stillness that was only disturbed by the crackling flames.