The Reckless Rescue

by Adrienne Kress

  “No!” Kwan was up on his feet and turned on the light. He looked at Sebastian, staring him down. Sebastian blinked for a moment at how bright it now was and also at Kwan’s sudden fury. “I don’t tell him because I don’t want to disappoint him. Because he’s done so much for me. Because he’s the closest thing to a father I’ve ever had, and that includes my biological father!”

  Sebastian hadn’t quite been expecting that answer. He had been so focused on the warden side of Suwon that he’d forgotten the parent side.

  “But what about me?” Sebastian asked. “I get that this is your home, but it’s not mine. And I want to go back to mine.” He felt physically weak all of a sudden; he felt sad.

  “You should tell Suwon hyung—”

  “I’ve tried to!”

  “Then…” Kwan stopped talking and furrowed his eyebrows, thinking hard. “You need to find a way home.”

  Sebastian nodded. Yes, of course he had to. That was the point. “But I can’t get out of the compound. Unless…you can help me out?” Sebastian looked at Kwan with faint hope.

  Kwan shook his head. “We don’t know the code to the lock. It’s for our—”

  “Protection. Of course.” Sebastian sighed hard. “The key is the concert.”

  “The concert?” asked Kwan.

  “Yes, all those people, all the chaos, it’s the perfect time to slip away,” Sebastian said.

  “You can’t come to the concert,” said Kwan matter-of-factly.

  “Yes, I know, it’s a rule. Band only.” Sebastian flopped onto the couch and sighed hard as he lay back, looking up at the dark ceiling. He sat up again. “Unless…”

  “What?”

  “Unless maybe by helping me I could be helping you.” Sebastian wasn’t sure his plan made sense yet, but it felt right.

  Kwan looked both confused and a little excited. “What do you mean?”

  “I join the band,” said Sebastian with a grin.

  “No, you can’t. It’s five members. It’s us. It’s just us. We’re irreplaceable.” Kwan said it matter-of-factly, so it didn’t come across as arrogant, despite his word choice.

  “But what if you weren’t?” asked Sebastian, sliding to the edge of the sofa in excitement. “What if you were replaceable? What if we showed Suwon that? What if he realized that you could be replaced, and then you would be free to figure out what it is you want to do with your life? If you could train someone in a day to be a Lost Boy…if you trained me…”

  “Impossible to do that in one day.” Kwan was looking very serious now.

  “Or at least train someone like me to be someone an audience would enjoy, maybe not as skilled or as good or as talented…” Sebastian stopped talking. It was then that he fully grasped the reality of what he was suggesting. He was suggesting that he, Sebastian, be trained at something he was, quite frankly, terrible at. Worse, he might have to perform in front of thousands….No. No, if his plan actually worked, it would never come to that. He’d be gone before the curtain rose. Did curtains rise at K-pop performances?

  Kwan was thinking hard now, though. He stood, and it was his turn to pace the room, back and forth. Sebastian watched him intently.

  “This feels impossible. You’re a terrible dancer,” said Kwan as he paced.

  “And an awful singer,” added Sebastian. “But maybe there’s something else I could do?”

  Kwan stopped and gazed at the wall of instruments. “You are good at math. I saw you today, in school.”

  “I am, yes.” What did math have to do with anything?

  “Music and dancing are like math. Beats per bar, divided, multiplied. But there are added challenges. Music has notes. Dancing has grace. But keeping time, a beat, rhythm. That might be the most like math of all of them.”

  “I guess….” Sebastian was starting to feel sincerely nervous, even though all this had been his idea.

  Kwan turned and looked at Sebastian hard. “I think I know what we can do.”

  * If they had forbidden him to see a concert performance of The Pirates of Penzance, on the other hand…

  Evie lay tucked in her comfy bed in her comfy room, but she felt anything but comfy. She felt frustrated and angry, and she turned onto one side in a huff. It didn’t seem right that that was it. That Thom wasn’t going to help them. He’d helped Benedict, after all. What was wrong with helping them? Why was Thom being so stubborn, and why was he so pleasant when he was being so stubborn? It was wrong. If you weren’t going to be helpful, at least be an unlikable person. At least.

  It wasn’t the end of the world, she supposed, as she drew her blanket up under her chin. There had to be others out there who could help them, but knowing where to start, where to look, that felt almost impossible right now. Australia was a pretty big place, a country and a continent combined, with millions of people. Should they just go to Newish Isle, maybe? Would someone there know how to find the mysterious town?

  And, of course, on top of all of that, there was her grandfather’s letter. A riddle that remained unsolved. Or maybe not a riddle at all. Maybe he was just a weird letter writer. Maybe this was all so pointless and there was no one who could help them and everything was just impossible.

  Evie sat up. She couldn’t sleep. It was too much, too many thoughts, too much fear and resentment and…She wanted a snack. Yes, she ought to be full of stew, and she was. But this wasn’t about hunger. A snack always calmed her down. When she was little and couldn’t sleep, she would go downstairs after bedtime while her parents were still awake reading or watching TV, and they would make a snack for her. And at the Wayward School she used to sneak down to the kitchens after everyone else had gone to bed. She’d never run into anyone, which on the one hand she thought was weird because she knew that kids sneaked to the kitchens all the time at boarding schools, but on the other hand she kind of understood—the Wayward kitchens were deep in the basement, down a dark unlit hallway where mice scurried out of the way as you walked along it. Well, some of the mice; some seemed to want to join you as you went.

  There was also the jet lag. It just messed with her system completely. Her brain had no idea what time it was at home, but her body was telling her it was eating time. It wouldn’t be stealing, thought Evie as she got out of bed. She’d tell Catherine about it in the morning and they’d pay for whatever she had. Besides, she didn’t want much. Maybe a piece of toast and some warm milk? A bowl of cereal? Something small. She slipped her shoes on and then quietly opened her door. The hallway had a small light glowing and was far friendlier than any of the hallways at Wayward. This was going to be easy.

  She walked down the stairs and made it into the foyer. The front desk was shut down, and Evie assumed they’d locked up for the night. It made sense. Why bother having a twenty-four-hour concierge when you only had a couple of guests and weren’t expecting more? This made it even easier for Evie.

  Except of course now she realized that she didn’t know how to get to the kitchen from inside the hotel. She stood in the foyer, feeling a little silly in her pajamas and running shoes. Her tummy grumbled.

  Okay, brain, the tummy commanded, let’s think, let’s think….

  Yes! Evie remembered when she’d first met Erik at the front desk that morning. He’d come out of some door just around the corner from the desk. That had to be it!

  She quickly darted around the desk and found the door, painted the same shade as the wall and almost invisible except for the doorknob. Evie opened it. It led downstairs into some kind of basement. Okay, well, sometimes kitchens were in basements. Like at Wayward. This felt perfectly normal. Of course, perfectly normal things did not require one to remind oneself that they felt perfectly normal, but…

  Evie felt around for a light switch and found one near the top of the stairs. Though, when she turned it on, the light was not exactly impressive. St
ill, it was better than nothing, and Evie went down the rickety staircase. Downstairs was blackness, and it rose up to meet her on the last couple of steps. She squinted into it, and judging by the damp smell and the generally low ceiling, Evie guessed that this probably was not where the kitchens were located. She stepped onto the ground, a dirt floor. No, this definitely would not be the kitchen. A dirt floor could not possibly be up to code for the health department. She sighed. She had found the basement, that was all. She’d have to either try again or just go back to bed. Of course, now she was totally wired and wide awake, and her stomach was extra rumbly. And darn it, it was such a pity there was no food to be found.

  Evie turned to go back up the stairs, and squish.

  She raised her shoe and looked down at what she’d stepped on. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but the limited light from the staircase glinted off something silver. She bent down to have a closer look. And smell.

  It was a fish. Very similar to the kind of fish she’d seen lying in the middle of the street earlier that day, actually. And now that she thought about it, the general smell in the basement was a fishy one. She stood upright. Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe this was the kitchen after all and they had different health standards in Australia or something. She took a step into the darkness and squinted. But the light from the staircase seemed to have come up against an invisible wall, or maybe it, as she did, found the basement just a little bit creepy.

  Okay, if she took a few more steps forward, maybe her eyes would get used to the blackness. She took a step and another, leaving the light behind. Soon she was engulfed in black, and her eyes did adjust a little bit. She could see very basic shapes and outlines. Before her was something large and rectangular. Maybe a fridge? Or one of those low freezers? She reached with outstretched arms toward it, taking each step an inch at a time.

  Her hands touched something cold and hard. She ran her hand up and came to an edge, the tips of her fingers going over and into a box. It had to be one of those freezers! Well, maybe there were Popsicles or something. But it seemed like it was open already, so maybe everything would be melted. Maybe all this was pointless and she should go to bed. She wasn’t sure if she just wanted to reach inside the freezer without seeing what was in it. What if there was raw meat? Or, as the smell suggested, rotting fish? She felt a shiver run up her spine. A midnight snack wasn’t worth it, not this much. Besides, if she went to sleep now, she’d wake up soon and it would be breakfast time.

  She turned around.

  Something tickled her face, and she jumped back. Her heart was in her throat, and she leaned against the fridge, panting. Carefully she extended her arm before her and waved it at around head height. There it was! The thing! She calmed herself down and grabbed for it. She realized then that it was a string, hanging from the ceiling. A wave of relief washed over her. Not only was the thing not some creepy insect or spider’s web, but she had a funny feeling she knew exactly what it was. She pulled on the string. And the basement burst into light.

  Okay, so she definitely wasn’t in a kitchen. She was in what looked like a storage room, full of old junk, a lamp here, a desk there, a wagon against two large doors that Evie imagined must be a separate loading entrance for the inn.

  Evie turned around to check out the fridge, just to see if maybe there actually were Popsicles after all.

  Wild thrashing and big sharp teeth and—oh my goodness!

  Evie ran as fast as she could out of the basement, tripping on the bottom stair and having to help herself climb up with her hands. Once out, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it. If her heart had been beating fast when the string for the light had tickled her, it was nothing compared to how berserk her heart was now.

  Evie didn’t know how, didn’t know why, and almost didn’t believe she’d seen what she’d seen. She shook out her whole body, trying to free it from the terror. Trying to free it from the realization that she had almost put her hand right into not a fridge, as she’d thought, but rather a large aquarium tank full of water.

  Not that the water had particularly scared her. No.

  It was the shark in the water that had been the terrifying part.

  Sebastian didn’t so much wake up the next morning as put down the drumsticks and blink a few times. That was as awake as he was going to be, it seemed, but working all night with Kwan, pounding away on his drum kit (it was a good thing the walls in the compound were so thick, no one was woken up by his efforts), had produced somewhat decent results. At first it had felt impossible, because while singing required being on key and having a nice voice, and dancing required grace, drumming still required something more than just math to beat out a rhythm: coordination. It had taken two hours for Sebastian just to feel somewhat comfortable holding two drumsticks, hitting the drums and the cymbal, and tapping the bass drum with his foot. The rhythm part after that was a lot easier.

  In the end, it turned out he wasn’t exactly a child prodigy. His rhythms were basic and slow. But they still were something. And, he reminded himself, it wasn’t like he’d actually have to perform onstage. This was just to get him to the concert, after all. It was something to share with the others. And they had to hope, with Kwan’s leadership role in the group, that Suwon would give this a chance. Because otherwise, well…otherwise Sebastian really didn’t want to know what would happen. Would he just have to be Suwon’s helper for the rest of time?

  With such fears weighing heavily on his shoulders, blisters on his fingers, and exhaustion swirling around his brain, Sebastian began the daily routine again. This time, though, he refrained from asking for a phone and instead explained that he’d thought long and hard about it and that he wanted to stay.

  Suwon smiled knowingly, though what he knew and what there was to be known were worlds apart, and Sebastian waited patiently through breakfast and tumbling practice and schoolwork for Kwan to make the proposition. Even though it was still before noon, Sebastian was starting to get just a little bit antsy.

  Finally, at dance rehearsal, Kwan made the suggestion.

  “No,” said Suwon. “There can only be five of you.”

  “But he won’t dance or sing! He’ll play!” said Kwan. Sebastian watched as the teen nervously fiddled with a loose thread on his T-shirt, but otherwise he was doing a good job and being the calm, happy Kwan that Sebastian had grown to know.

  “This is ridiculous.” Suwon turned to Sebastian apologetically. “Kwan clearly likes you, and that’s good, now that you are family. But you can’t be a Lost Boy. I am sure you understand that.”

  “But I want to be,” said Sebastian, not at all convinced by his attempt to sound convincing.

  “He can play the drums. Let him show you!” said Kwan with a smile. Sebastian felt his heart drop. He glanced around the room at the other boys watching the conversation with curiosity. He gave them a small smile, which they returned with bright, beaming ones of their own.

  “I want to see!” said Ujin.

  There were sounds of agreement from the other boys, and even though Suwon looked really suspicious about the whole situation, they all ran off with Kwan to fetch the kit from his room.

  “Please don’t mistake me,” said Suwon when Sebastian and he were alone. “I’m very happy you’ll be joining our family. But the Lost Boys are special. They’ve trained for years. They are irreplaceable.”

  Yes, I know. That’s the problem, thought Sebastian. Of course, he didn’t say that. Instead he just smiled as reassuringly as he could.

  When the boys returned, Sebastian noticed something a little different about them. They put the drum kit together while whispering to each other. Cheese looked at Sebastian briefly and gave him a quick wink. Suddenly Sebastian had the impression that maybe this secret of his and Kwan’s was no longer quite so private.

  Had Kwan told them the plan? He couldn’t have said th
e part about Kwan wanting to leave the band. They’d surely have been upset at that news. But he probably did tell them about Sebastian’s plan to escape. It would explain why they all looked a bit…sneaky.

  Great. Now he had to hope all five of them wouldn’t give the plan away, not just Kwan.

  “Okay, Opera Boy! Show them what you can do!” said Kwan with a bit too much enthusiasm.

  “Sure, but maybe now you need to call me Drummer Boy or something,” joked Sebastian poorly as he made his way around the kit and took the sticks off the small stool. Even holding them lightly like this, he could feel the rawness of his fingertips. This was not going to be fun.

  “I still like ‘Opera Boy,’ ” said Toy, but Sebastian really didn’t care. He was too focused on the drums in front of him.

  Slowly he sat down and stared at the drums. Then he took in a deep breath and raised the drumsticks into the air. It seemed in that moment that his fingers had swollen in size, fumbling the sticks even before he struck a beat. He glanced at Kwan, who gave him an encouraging nod, and then he started playing.

  It was extremely rough at first. The bass was hardly keeping time, and each hit on a drum was distinct and awkward. But he kept going, warming up, and eventually he was able to tap out a pretty basic rhythm. It was hardly impressive. Sebastian looked at Suwon, who looked both confused and disappointed, and as Sebastian looked, he suddenly lost the beat. He stopped and stared at the drums for a moment, feeling pretty pathetic.

  Silence descended on the dance studio.

  “That was great!” said Ujin, a little too loudly, it seemed.

  “I bet we could choreograph something to that,” added Kwan. He gestured to the boys and then to Sebastian. And even though Sebastian was feeling a little numb inside and even more numb in his fingers, he smiled bravely and started the rhythm up again.

  This time with the boys improvising choreography and gymnastics to his beats, Sebastian started to feel a bit more confident. So confident, even, that he attempted a couple of improvised moments of his own. And by the time he just had to stop because his hands hurt too much, a smile had grown on Suwon’s face. It wasn’t the usual smile either. It wasn’t knowing or even proud. It was…it was surprised.