by Sarah Noffke
“Take more,” he says, walking by me as I jog.
“No. You’ll need it,” I say.
“We just need to get out of here,” he implores.
“No. We have a long journey back. You need your energy.” And I worry about what my father said. About Rogue being more affected by my leeching.
“Fine.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about your other gift?” I say.
“It just came out recently. Like really came out,” Rogue says. “I’ve always been strong and had good stamina but it came out on my way into the Valley this trip and I hadn’t had a real chance to practice and hone it yet, well, not until now.”
“But you knew it was there,” I say as we round a corner. “And you didn’t tell me.”
He gives me a sideways smile. “If I would have then you would have overthought that moment. You wouldn’t have done it so perfectly. Escaped so wonderfully.”
“How can you know?”
“Because I saw the future,” Rogue says with a devilish smile.
“We have a lot to discuss. Let’s go.”
I chance touching his arm, hoping the gift I leeched from Maurice is completely gone. He smiles. Grabs my hand and we run. Taking off even faster, him pulling, almost dragging me. We swing around corners, trying to find our way out of this too big warehouse. Several times we backtrack, finding dead end after dead end.
Finally a door. I push through it and into a two-story room. Cold stings my skin. The temperature in this space is at least ten degrees colder than the warehouse, which was already frigid with its metal walls and concrete floors. Server cases stand in rows upon rows in front of us. Blue radiance shines from them, providing the only light in the room. Above the terminals a metal catwalk crisscrosses around the room, wires snaking along its belly.
What is this place? What in the world are they trying to control with this all? I turn once. Twice. Three times, trying to determine which way to run. It’s a maze of rows which stretch for as far as I can see.
“Do you sense a way out of this?” Rogue asks, staring around.
“Why me?”
“Because you’re Ms. Badass,” he says.
“No.” I shake my head. “Maybe you should scout ahead? Do your cheetah move and find the exit.”
He gives me a punishing look. “You know damn well I’m not leaving you.”
I nod, having expected that answer. The good news is that I think I’ll sense my father or the reinforcements if they close in on us. I take cautious steps and angle my head around the first row of cases, which stand taller than Maurice.
Maurice. Guilt prickles my throat. Threatens to close it up. I shake off the feeling, but not entirely.
The rows stretch for twenty feet, with short breaks between them and the next. In the dim light it’s hard to see the wall on the far side of the room, but I think I almost do. I grab Rogue’s hand. “Come on. We have to get out of here.”
Disappointment unravels in my stomach when we reach the darkened wall to find no exit. And ahead of us stretches the same row of servers, one after another. Too many rows to count. My eyes strain in the blue light.
On my next step I’m assaulted by an intense burning in my chest. It doubles me over. Steals my breath.
“Em.” Rogue races back, pulling me upright. “What is it?”
Both my hands press against my chest. Press against the burning. My heart feels ready to explode. And I try to say something, but I can’t speak past the pain. He grips my neck and tips my head back, looking deep into my eyes. Searching my face. “Gods, you’re burning up, Em. What’s happened to you?”
I blow out a hot breath. Feel it so acutely against the cold of the room. I shake my head at Rogue, as the corners of my vision start to darken.
Again he’s studying me, his face blanketed with confusion. Finally a determined look takes over his features and he sweeps me into his arms. “I’m getting you out of here.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” my father says, his voice coming from up high, his pale face swimming into my vision.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Rogue halts. We both turn our faces up to where my father and President Vider stand on the catwalk above us. Seeing the sniveling grins on their faces sends my adrenaline into overdrive. It takes over the intensity building in my chest. Clears my vision. I squirm until Rogue releases me from his arms, standing me upright. His hands stay clasped on my shoulders. My father leans on the railing of the catwalk, his knuckles white. President Vider stands, feet shoulder width apart, hands casually clasped behind his back.
“You killed someone, Em,” my father says, shaking his head with slight disappointment like I’ve done something trivial.
“You made me!” I scream up to him. And although I’m still roasting, my anger is giving me strength over the ailment that’s recently zapped by chest with pain.
President Vider sighs. “Don’t you see what a danger you are to other people? Don’t you see why we gave you the injections all along? You thought we were trying to control you, but we’re just trying to protect innocent people. People would suffer if Defects like you and Rogue were free to have your gifts.”
“Father, I do believe you’ve brainwashed yourself into believing that,” Rogue says, his voice filling up the large room. “But you can’t warp us.”
I focus on my father. Try to reach into his thoughts and come up short. I scan the room, trying to use President Vider’s gift to find an exit. Nothing comes. All I feel is Rogue’s power inside him at my access.
“We’re too far away,” my father says with a satisfied grin.
“What?”
“You can’t leech us from this far back,” my father says. “And if you continue to leech Rogue after his ordeal and with his condition you’ll kill him. It’s time to stop acting irrationally and surrender to the conversion we all know is inevitable.”
I hate the confidence in his voice. I hate that I’m half nodding in agreement to my father’s words. I hate that he still has a leash on me somehow.
“Why don’t you come down here and get us?” Rogue says, sounding slightly amused. “We’ll wait for you. Promise.”
“Mr. Vider, do you take me for an idiot?” my father says.
“Quite frankly, yes,” Rogue says, a sideways smile on his lips. “Which is why my father chose you as his Chief of Staff. Idiots are easy to control. They think the way he tells them to.”
“Well, while you’ve satisfied your ego berating me, we’ve trapped you,” my father says, threading his arms across his chest, looking victorious. The whites of eyes all around us pop out of the darkness as men approach from the shadows. Dozens of men. All wearing jeans and T-shirts. Middlings. Their slack faces take on a sinister look in the blue light. “Who’s the idiot now?” my father says, his chin down, eyes treacherous.
I step in closer to Rogue. His arm tightens around my waist. Twenty men, maybe more, inch in closer to us, forming a tight circle. The men appear cautious, and also driven, taking calculated short steps.
“They’ve come to take you back to where you belong,” President Vider says, leaning over the rails.
Rogue holds up his hands. “Look, guys,” he says, swinging his head around, speaking to the men crowding us, “we don’t want trouble.”
“These exceptionally loyal Middlings know you are trouble,” the President says, his voice laced with that persuasion he uses to brainwash. “They know you are their downfall and if allowed free you’ll destroy the Valley they’ve grown to love. My fine citizens will not allow terrorists to endanger their lives. Isn’t that right, men?”
A collective and low “Yes” hums from the men’s lips.
“And the best part is, Em, you can’t leech a Middling. You’re powerless against them,” President Vider says, drawing his chest up high. “And Rogue, you can fight them, but even you can’t defeat twenty-five men. You two are done and soon you’ll both be converted. Soon you’ll be like these Middlin
gs, who succumb to my rule.”
“And that’s what you’ve always wanted from us, isn’t it!” I yell, my anger making me shake all over. The burning returns to my core, but not like before. It’s a pulsing supremacy, and it’s uncontrollable, as though it’s about to overpower me. “You want to control us. You want to think for us. But I will die before I allow that.”
“I don’t really see what the problem is,” my father says rather coolly. “You’ve always been more Middling than Dream Traveler. I would think you’d be grateful that we’re putting you with your people.”
“Why don’t you read my mind if you want to know what I think about it,” I say.
“You’re so uncivilized, Em. This is the grave you have dug. Get over it,” my father says.
The men approach faster; they’re only ten feet away. Nine feet. Eight. Close enough that I recognize faces from the fields. Men I’ve worked alongside. “Dean!” I say, grateful to see his kind eyes staring back at me. But there’s something different in them. An uncertainty maybe. “I’m not a bad person, Dean. You have to help us. It’s the President who can’t be trusted.”
His face contorts with confusion. He pauses. The men around him halt too.
“It was the President who killed your—”
“Don’t listen to her,” President Vider says. “She’s a liar who’s trying to confuse you. Don’t let this rebel manipulate you with her deceptions.”
“That’s funny, coming from you,” I say, scowling at President Vider.
“Get them!” the President commands.
The men lunge forward. And I know that it’s futile to fight them. We’re outnumbered. I hold up my hands. Feel Rogue behind me, pull me into him tighter. “Wait,” I say. “I’ll go, willingly. We both will.”
“Em, what are you doing?” Rogue whispers at my shoulder.
“Shhh…” I keep my hands up as I speak. “But before I surrender I have one last thing to say to my father. Will you please give me that?”
The men freeze in a perfect circle around us. Dean nods, a real battle seeming to go on within him. I flip my head up.
“Father,” I say, glaring at his smug face.
“Yes, Em,” he says, sounding bored.
“You’ve always known I was uncooperative, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you knew you were stripping me of my gift by giving me the injections, right?”
He blinks a few times. “Yes,” he says, his patience waning.
“You’ve seemed to know so much about me,” I say, my hands still in the air. Palms facing toward him.
He leans over the rail, looking down at me with a narcissistic smile. “That’s right.”
“Well, one thing I don’t think you know is that even from a distance, I’m dangerous.” From my raised hands bolts of electricity fire. They’re bright, so much so that I can’t look at them directly without my eyes squinting from the bluish light. The bolts shoot through the air faster than anyone can react. They gallop for a target and finally connect with the metal railing both my father and President Vider are gripping with white knuckles. The two men don’t have a second to react and there’s nowhere for them to go. The electricity assaults the railing and instantly spreads out, shooting through everything connected to the rails. The beams linked to the catwalk. The catwalk. My father. The President.
The electricity that had been lying across my heart, building with intensity, burdening me, burning me from the inside out, is now a weapon I’ve thrown at the two most powerful men in Austin Valley. Now with the electricity released I’m suddenly light. I feel like I can sprint for a hundred miles. And above us, my father and President Vider grip the metal bars like they’re welded to them as they fry under the electricity. Both men’s eyes bulge. Their bodies vibrate with a violent intensity. Smoke from somewhere begins snaking its way through the blue light. I watch them fry for what begins to feel like too long. Their suffering is a strange one that leaves an ambivalent weight over my conscience. Redemption and guilt somehow live simultaneously in my thoughts as I watch the electrocution of the two vilest men I’ve ever known.
And then as if synchronized, they both shoot off the bars and land in crumpled messes a few feet back. Each man convulses, like trying to move but unable to control their limbs properly. My father sits up, but electricity continues to snake through him, pinning him to the ground. Blood, dark, almost appearing black, snakes down from the President’s nostrils. And although I know I shot a great deal of electricity at them, they both still stare at me with blinking, vengeful eyes before slumping back on the metal grate below them. My father’s attempts to breathe echo with a strange rattling sound. And yet, I find a slight bit of consolation that he breathes. For the moment he is powerless, but not dead.
Around us the crowd of men steps back. The faces of men who have trusted me, worked beside me, stare back with disbelief and distrust. “No!” I yell. “I won’t hurt you! I’ll protect you. I’ll save you from them. Don’t be afraid.”
And still they revolve their gaze on each other and seem to come to the same conclusion as they back away. Away from me, like I’m going to hurt them with the same power I just unleashed against my father. Dean looks at me, terror in his eyes. “I want to help you,” I say, taking a step forward, but he shakes his head and backs up and then the group disperses, running away from me like I’m a monster.
I touch Rogue’s hand only slightly, afraid I might hurt him with my touch. When nothing happens I clench his hand. He grips it tight.
“Let’s get out of here,” I say, and we run forward, toward where the Middlings are going. Hopefully to an exit.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
We race out of the building, through empty lots, past the plaza. And then Rogue scoops me into his arms and sprints at lightning speed. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed. To feel safe and secure and also move like I’m dream traveling. That’s what Rogue can do. He moves like my consciousness does, with a graceful agility. His body has that instinct and I instantly worship it.
He sets me down when we arrive at my duffel bag. He’s sprinted, carrying me, for four miles, and isn’t even winded. I’m certain now I don’t spy half of his movements, which are like tiny sparks, quick and powerful.
“Rogue,” I say, touching his face, marveling at his greatness. “Are you all right?”
He nods. “I’m fine. Let me carry you farther.”
“No,” I say, pulling away from him. “I’ve got this. Let’s go.” I tug his hand behind me as I hike up the hill in front of us. Then I remember something and turn around to catch a deliriously happy smile on his face. “What are you smiling about?”
“I’ve got a long list,” he says.
I nod, smile back. Then I pull the bottle of pills out of my pocket. “Sorry, I forgot about these.” I open the bottle and pop one small oblong pill into my palm and offer it to Rogue. He swallows it dry.
“You were incredible back there. You electrocuted my father and yours,” he says, his eyes sparkling with life.
“I don’t think I killed them.”
“No, I’m afraid you probably didn’t, but still you knocked them out and that’s a good start to a fight.”
“I did kill Maurice,” I say, guilt crowding my throat again.
“No, you put him out of his misery.”
He kisses me and then tugs me forward, holding my hand as we rush through the forest. We hike two more miles to the top of the ridge and then our journey becomes more treacherous for the next two miles down, sliding on screes and almost falling off steep blunts. But Rogue navigates our route, every time making sure we finagle ourselves out of danger.
The canopy of the forest is so dense, I didn’t even know the moon was hanging overhead until we come to a clearing. Its silver light kisses the grass and wildflowers in the field. And then on the far side of the clearing I spy movement. I startle at first but then realize whatever it is isn’t human. The motion is a swee
ping one. Hidden just on the other side of the field under the trees is an animal. And then my eyes adjust to the moonlight and I catch the movement of the swish of a magnificent horse’s tail.
I turn to Rogue. “That’s...?”
He nods. “Indeed.”
I almost cry realizing we’re so close. So close to freedom. Each step away from Austin Valley now feels coated with a potential doom, like my father will fly in and steal me away. Convert me. Being this close to escaping his and the President’s oppression is terrifying. And still I move forward, taking each step with a deliberate focus.
When I’m ten feet from the horse I really see her. See how extraordinary she is.
“Wow,” I say in a hush, coming to a halt.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Rogue says.
I’ve never seen such a large animal. She’s the length of a car and taller than Rogue. Her coat is golden and her mane and tail are white. She exudes a mystic strength I’ve never witnessed before. I wonder if all animals have this beautiful power inside them. Something tells me I will soon find out. I have so much to discover now.
“She’s stunning,” I finally say in response to Rogue’s question.
Rogue tugs on my hand, encouraging me toward her. He pats the horse’s neck. She whinnies at him, shakes her head. “Say hi to Em.”
“Hi,” I say, putting my hand up to her nose so she can smell me. I assume that’s what you do with a horse, so they know you’re all right. “What’s your name?” I say, rubbing her nose, which is soft and wet.
“I just told you. Her name is Em,” Rogue says, with a guilty laugh.
My eyes go wide. Mouth drops opens. Somehow a smile forms on my face. “You named your horse after me?!”
He nods, a clever smile on his face. Shrugs. “She’s not just any horse. She’s the best one out there.” He stands back and looks at her, checking her over. “And she’s the most beautiful.”
“Do you have a horse named after Zack too?” I laugh at the ridiculousness of the perfect man in front of me.
