by D. K. Dailey
Carson moved the bomb in place once the premier started his speech and diverted the crowd’s attention. When Ping and Carson were hired and cleared last week, they planted parts of the bomb in several storage rooms. Then, earlier this evening, Carson reconstructed the bomb after he posed as a visitor in a bathroom, then he handed it off.
In the pandemonium, we all head in the opposite direction, toward the stairs.
“Cameras will be off in exactly one minute,” Zee announces over our earbuds. He’s with Cherry in a bubble parked about five blocks away.
“Then we have two minutes on the stairs, right?” I ask.
“Pike has the cameras down for two minutes on the staircase and then for four in the hallways and lab. You’ll be in and out before they know what hit them.”
“The lab’s fifteen stories down, right?” Saya confirms as we reach one of the doors to the staircases.
“What are you two doing?” A guard approaches, trying to push us in the direction everyone else is headed.
“Finding an exit,” I tell him.
“I’m sorry, sir, but we need to clear the steps.”
“A bomb just went off.”
“It’s protocol.” He smiles mechanically, biting back words he knows he can’t say to someone of higher status.
“We’re not taking the elevator.”
“Sir, our elevators are high tech. They don’t malfunction under any circumstance.”
“And you expect everyone to get in the elevators? There are two sets of stairs, we could all get out much quicker.”
Saya looks at her watch. “Why are you bothering…nine…eight…seven . . .”
The guard glares at her. “What is she doing?”
“Counting down to the moment where she’ll kick your ass, I suspect.” I examine her. “Yeah, for positive.” I smile.
“What are you talking…” the guard starts.
“Two…one …”
The guy watches her with inquisitiveness laced in his expression. He actually watches as she pulls out her altered Laser-Taser from the side of her dress and stuns him. He crumples to the floor, unconscious. Carson reconfigured the weapons to put people to sleep for exactly fifteen minutes.
We step around his body, but two other guards slide into his place so quickly, I’m not positive where they came from. They look at the guard on the floor, then at Carson and I, and they both reach out to grab us.
“Hurry, to the other staircases!” Saya takes my hand and we push through the crowd.
But guards block this staircase, too. They’re stationed everywhere.
Behind me, one of the guards that saw us stun his partner struggles to get through the crowd. I stutter step when I spot Noodle’s father among the crowd, probably trying to help secure the premier. I whip out my glasses, “Put on your glasses.”
From my pocket, I retrieve a stun grenade, release the pin, and roll it out in front of us. A blinding light flashes, and then a blast erupts, causing everyone to stumble. The grenade doesn’t harm, only disorients. Per Carson, the flash disables the part of the eye that converts light into signals. But our glasses enable us to see normally. For about five seconds, everyone else is blind, and we move stealthily through the stumbling crowd, making it to the staircase door in seconds.
We push past an officer guarding the stairs, and he yelps. While he’s flinging his arms around, blindly trying to find us, Saya puts him to sleep with her Laser-Taser.
“You have one minute and forty-five seconds to get to the lab,” Zee says. “Move it!”
We sprint down the first staircase until Saya stops to take off her heels. “I’m gonna kill myself with these things.” She flings them down the center of the staircases, and they crash toward the bottom floor.
“But you’ll be barefoot.”
“I don’t care.” She’s close behind me. As I jump down steps, she conquers them one by one, her strides not quite reaching my long leaps.
The shuffling sounds of us running and jumping echo in the concrete-and-metal stairwell. I’m surprised no one else has taken the stairs. I guess they were forced into elevators. That’s a seriously stupid protocol.
When we get to the forty-fifth floor, guards spot us through the tiny window in the door. “Back up.” I point to the flight of stairs above us.
I pull another pin, toss the grenade, and fly up the stairs behind her. I envelope her in my arms to protect her. Seconds are forever, and our breaths are jagged as we huddle, awaiting the blast.
The bomb blows the door off its hinges, taking out the guards on the other side.
“Are the hallways and lab cameras off?” I ask Zee over the radio before leaving the stairwell.
“Yes. I got you an extra two minutes in the lab.”
We trample down the single flight of stairs, step over the guards, and head into the lab.
“They’ve moved the Premier somewhere. He’s gone. But Carson’s on the roof waiting as planned,” Zee rambles as we run down the deserted hallway.
I’ve been on the lab floor before with Dad, but it looks different now. It feels colder and bigger. The floor’s glossy white tiles are endless, resembling an infinite field of snow, and track lighting bathes the hallway in bright light. White hand-painted vases and gold and bronze statues line the wall’s shelves.
“Come on. The entrance is near the elevators,” I tell Saya.
As we get closer, a pinging noise startles us. We look at each other. Who could it be? With nowhere to hide in the hall, I debate taking out my gun, but playing dumb might get us somewhere.
“Act zozzled.”
Saya swerves, and I do, too. Holding hands, we talk loudly and slur our words for show.
Dad steps off the elevator. I’m shocked by his presence, but don’t show it. “Well…hello…Mr.…Mr. Shaw.”
This is one incredible coincidence.
“Kade, I know it’s you.” I swear the blood and breath leave my body. Everything keeping me alive stalls. The look of disappointment in his eyes worries me.
“How’d you know?” Ditching the drunk act, we stand our ground. He’s blocking our path to the main lab door directly behind him.
“Your mom’s reaction and the cadence in your speech. Why wouldn’t I recognize you?” He motions to Saya. “And your little mate.”
“I’m not his mate,” she fires back too quickly.
“We could’ve gone without that comment.” I shoot her a sidelong glance. “Where’s Mom?”
“Safe,” he says dismissively. “I can’t let you do this.”
“You can’t stop us, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Saya interrupts.
“Shut her up, will you?” “The words totally out of character for Dad.
“Shut me up?” Saya raises her voice and a hand into the air.
My face drains of color, and its warmth dwindles. This is all out of character for him. The cruelty. Before, in his office, he’d acted like he was sorry for what he had done, for what he had allowed to happen. Now I’m not so convinced.
Inside me, heat explodes, a jolt of lightning, and my hands shake. He can’t be this cruel.
“Are you insane, Kade?” Dad pushes a frenzied hand through his brown hair. “Breaking into my company?”
Saya touches my arm.
I stand my ground. “We need to know what the Premier is hiding so we can stop the raids and help Dregs.”
His lips curl at the edge. “Since when did you become a martyr for Dregs?”
“Since I was to be executed without protest from any Golden I counted on as bud or family. Since I found out I’m Dreg. Since I found out you were hiding things.” Emotion strings through my voice, unbending, like gold fused to metal.
Dad crumples to the ground and broken glass covers the floor.
Chapter Forty-Two
Mom stands over him. In her evening dress and her hair in an elegant knot instead of her usual ponytail, she looks badass. “Each of these vases cost twenty-six thousand points,” she
says ruefully. “I decorated this lab hall at his request.” She shoots him a wicked glance, and the shattered pieces crumble from her hands.
I traipse over Dad’s body and throw my arms around her. I hold her for as long as she’ll let me. When she pulls back, I ask, “Why did you come back and help?”
“Because I knew what he was up to, and I won’t let anyone mess with my babies.” She kisses me on my forehead. “Not anymore.”
I pull back, shaking my head in confusion. “But you put yourself at risk.”
“I don’t care…” Her voice fades as she touches my cheek.
“You can still get out of here. We turned off the cameras, so you won’t get caught.” I look down at Dad. “Only he’ll know we were here. He confronted us alone, he was trying to keep me a secret, otherwise he’d have brought guards and told the Premier.”
“You guys have four minutes and thirty seconds in the lab,” flows Zee’s voice through our earbuds. “I can’t buy you anymore time.”
“Mom…we gotta go.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “Good luck, son.”
“I don’t need luck. Never have.” I smile, but it hurts.
“Take care of him, will you, Saya?” Mom wipes tears from her cheeks.
“I will, Mrs. Shaw,” Saya replies, a warm smile dancing on her disguised face.
Mom flinches. “I told you to call me April,” she replies tenderly.
I hug her again, and we step the few paces to the lab doors. She watches us for a moment, blows me a kiss, and then disappears into the elevator.
I go to touch the lab-door screen, and Saya reminds me, “Gloves.”
“Oh, yeah.” We pull out sleek gloves that hug our hands like second skins and then scan ourselves through facial and eye recognition. When the door opens with a gust, we step inside.
Upright glass cases at least a foot taller than me line the walls. In each case is a human body, and on the front are tablet-sized digital panels. Wires lead into a black lamp above each head. Clear tubes weave through the backs of the cases, connecting to each stomach for feeding, and breathing tubes snake through throats or nostrils.
I gaze at the bodies, still as statues, displayed like trophies. The cases reach far into the depths of this huge lab. Was this here under my nose the whole time? Wrapped in skintight silver suits, they remind me of foil-wrapped burritos—one of my favorite prep meals, except the suits have holes cut in strange places.
Maybe the suits maintain body temperature. But what about the holes? Most of the bodies have scars on their stomachs where kidneys should be and others have…oh my heart, these people are being harvested for organs! The Taken have become donors. This is where they have taken Dregs—to a lab where they experiment on and then eliminate them.
“My mom must’ve…” Saya realizes this concurrently and her words drop off. “…known somehow, that’s why she kill—took her life.”
“But how could she have known?”
“Pike.”
We pause at a case nearest the entrance. Inside, the woman’s gray-tinted face makes her look like she’s in a coma. Still breathing, but shallowly, through the help of the tube.
I step closer, touching the glass. “What in the world are these?”
“Death boxes.” Saya sucks in a breath and meets my eyes, her hands shaking.
We stand in silence, fascinated, but we’re wasting time. We have mere minutes to retrieve data. If we don’t, this whole mission—all the planning and hard work—will be for nothing.
“They don’t look dead,” Saya says softly.
“Here. The vitals.” I point to the digital panel. “And food and water levels.” I motion to the tubes and bags inside the cases. “They’re in induced comas.” I recall a super-old stream with similar circumstances.
“Why would they keep them in comas?”
“Because they’re harvesting live organs.”
“How many labs are here?” Saya asks hurriedly.
“This is the largest one at Shaw Tech.”
“You don’t need my help with the data, do you?” She doesn’t wait for an answer before running into the depths of the lab.
I don’t have time to argue or wonder what she’s about to do because Zee counts down in my earbud, “Three minutes.” I run toward Dad’s office.
Fire pulses through my bones as I run, finally locating Dad’s desk surrounded by a bank of black countertop lab tables. His desk is set apart from others, with chest-high frosted-glass partitions around it.
Grasping Carson’s palm-card-sized device from my pocket, I attach it to the hard drive and turn it on. The login screen appears, and I push the decode button. The device makes sounds, and letters and numbers appear in the box where the user name and password would go.
Carson said it could take up to a minute to figure out the administrator’s password, which would get me into the system. And at that point, I’m supposed to copy everything on the hard drive. No time to sift through info. Carson has rigged the device to run exponentially faster than anything I’ve ever seen, yet the process takes two minutes.
Info appears on the device, and I enter it in the login box. The box wiggles and clears the info. YOU HAVE TWO MORE ATTEMPTS flashes in bold red letters above the password field.
I type the info very carefully, repeating each letter and number the device outputs. Pressing the enter button, I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. The blue computer screen idles on, and the desktop image projects in the air. Yes!
With a finger nudge, I copy the main drive’s files. The folders display the transferring files image. The device is twofold: it breaks into the secure system and the memory drive.
I’m curious as to what is on this computer. Opening the hard drive, I search the file names. They’re coded so as not to give any clues as to what each contains.
I glance back at Saya, busy examining the body cases. This is my only chance.
I open the desk drawer, searching for a keystickie I can swipe. Dad always had loads of them around his home office. Yes! I pull one out and place it on the receiver, a small circle near the power button, and click copy for this device, too. This will allow me to do my own investigation. I can’t trust Pike to allow me to analyze the intel, so this is my backup. I need to see what Dad and the government are up to.
“Kade, you won’t believe this,” Saya yells from the other side of the lab. She’s running toward me. The effort splits the sides of her tight dress, exposing her black silk undergarments. When she reaches me, she’s exhausted and stops to catch her breath, bent over her knees, hands on her stomach.
Carson’s device beeps. Transfer complete. I check my keystickie—it has fifteen more seconds. The keystickie beeps, and I slide it into my left pocket, stuff Carson’s device in a customized zippered compartment in the gliderpack, log out of Dad’s computer, and turn it off with a hand swipe.
“We have to take them,” Saya spits out.
“Them?”
She motions to the body cases, and my brows practically touch. Has she gone cuckoo? How can we take comatose people locked in glass cases?
“My dad and my, my…Archer.”
My heart thuds down into my stomach like someone took a heavy-duty steel flyswatter to it.
Chapter Forty-Three
Archer. Saya’s ex. I shake my head. Someone she loves. I try to understand where she’s coming from. If I found Ems and Mom here, I would fight to take them both.
“We can’t,” I say calmly.
“Don’t tell me we can’t!” she spews bitterly.
“When were they taken?”
“Archer…five months before you came. Longer for Dad.”
Taking them from the lab is a bad idea. “I’m not positive how induced comas work. We probably have to take their tubes and air supply and…” My mind jumps around like olden-day spin tops. Before I finish, Saya runs away, and I have no choice but to follow.
We stop in front of two cases a few paces from each other
on the same wall. Saya places a gloved hand on one with an older man. His round face and square jaw mirrors his daughter’s. Her hands find another case. A guy our age.
I can’t compete with someone she didn’t get enough time with. The effort would be like a fish having a flying contest with a bird. Tall and slim, Archer stands upright, his brown hair swooped over his forehead. His flat nose makes his cheeks look chubby.
“I know you want to take them both, but I can only carry one,” I murmur.
Saya looks from her dad to her mate. “We have to save them. They’re still alive.”
“We have to go. You have to choose. Only one.”
She looks back and forth between them and then around the lab. About a hundred feet away, a few tarps are draped over equipment. Saya snatches two and hands me one. “We can both carry them. We wrap and drag them.”
I curse inside my head. This wasn’t the decision I expected.
She hurls her weapon at her dad’s glass prison first, and it cracks and shatters at the first try. I examine him quickly, noting he’s unaffected by the noise or broken glass.
After laying tarps on the floor, I carefully unhook the tubes and straps holding him upright. Something from the back of the case tugs on his tubes.
Saya breaks the glass in the other case, and I roar, “Come help me.”
She rushes over.
“I need you to stand on the bottom of the case to support him. Can you see what’s tugging from the back?” I point to a rectangular panel midway down the case. “It’s connected to that panel.”
Ducking behind her dad, she moves into the case and bangs on the panel.
“Hurry up.” I say.
Finally, the panel gives and clanks to the ground.
“It’s a breathing tank.” She says.
“Grab it. We gotta move them together to the tarp.”
“Got it.”
“Ready then?”
“Yep.”
Moving him to the outstretched tarp, we then wrap it around him so he’s secure in the middle. We repeat the procedure with Archer and drag the bodies through the lab. I can’t help but think of all the Taken who became a part of this horrible government experiment. These two might be the fortunate ones. The ones that, along with our stolen data, can help us understand the government’s plan.
