“Where does that door lead?” Jo asks.
“I don’t know. Should we open it? Maybe there’s a year’s worth of food and other stuff in there.”
“Maybe...” Jo says. She lets her backpack fall from her shoulders and sits down with her back against the wall, taking deep, slow breaths. Her whole body is trembling. I take her backpack, open it, and see that she put her bag of medicines in here. Good. She might need this soon.
I hear footsteps above us—lots of them. There’s probably a whole bunch of fake cops searching the whole estate for us now, but why ? Why do they want me and my sister?
Then, as if on cue, my phone buzzes in my hoodie pocket. I take it out and look at the notification. It’s a text from Unknown Number. Thank goodness.
Unknown : I know someone who can get you in touch with your mother, and I know how to get us all to safety. We can all meet up tomorrow night. You can call me D, by the way.
There’s poor cell service down here, but my message still manages to send:
Me : A bunch of crooked cops are in our house. My sister and I are in the panic room now.
The unknown number—D—responds minutes later: I didn’t think Scorpion would come after you today, but don’t worry. Just stay put, and whatever you do, don’t open that door for anyone. You might be down there for awhile.
Me : Who’s Scorpion?
D : Scorpion was the FBI project before Genesis, that had to be shut down shortly before you were born. Now they’re ex-agents who want to get back at your grandfather for what he did to them all those years ago. Their plan is called Operation Zero. They are the ones at your house right now.
Me : Do you know where my mother is? Is she OK? What about my aunt?
My heart sinks at D’s response: I don’t know .
4.
Skye
My escape is going to be too easy.
Since the residence wing is on the first floor of the building, I can open my window and jump the five-foot drop to the ground. But the only thing that’s preventing me from doing that is the alarm and the motion sensor tapped into the window. That’s why I have Jerry.
“ Hey, kid, are you on? ” Jerry’s voice says through my intercom. He dropped it off at my dorm a few hours ago.
I don’t trust Jerry—he’ll probably tell Chief the minute I get out of the building—but he was my only option.
“I’m on,” I say, adjusting the intercom in my left ear. It’s nine-thirty. All of the other orphan trainees are fast asleep in their dorms. Eighty percent of the agents went home for the night, and the security guards have switched out for night patrol. Most of headquarters is dark and quiet.
“Where are you now?” I ask Jerry as I secure my small backpack over both shoulders. I’m wearing a black jacket, leggings, and tennis shoes that I usually wear to physical training.
“I told Doug I’ll sit in the security room while he took a five minute coffee break.” Jerry states. “That’s all the time you have. Oh, and I already disabled the alarm on your window—dorm number twenty, right?”
“Right.” I say. “Thanks again.”
“I’m still waiting on my payment.”
“I said I’ll transfer the money to you when I get to an ATM.” I hiss.
“Alright, alright. I’m just reminding you.”
I huff and slowly creak open the large window. You can open it to a certain extent to get some fresh air, but once it opens wide enough the alarm will go off. I’m surprised these windows don’t just have simple locks on them or are just glued shut.
I open it a little wider...then a little wider...no alarm.
A huge gust of frigid wind blows into the room, putting goosebumps on my skin. I peer out the window and see the frost-covered ground below me. The sky is navy blue with no clouds or stars anywhere. There’s not a person in sight, but I can hear the noises of the bustling city nearby. I wiggle through the space in the window and soon am holding on to the ledge by my hands. I let go, hitting the ground feet first. I bend my knees so I don’t shatter any bones, and land on my butt and then on my back and head. I’m dizzy for a few seconds, my head throbbing a little, but as soon as I recover I stand up. Time is running out. I have to get as far away from here as possible—
“So, I see you’ve escaped,” a hoarse voice says behind me, and I whip around. I squint my eyes in the darkness to see a man in all black, hood pulled over his head.
“W-Who are you?” I ask, an edge in my voice.
The man takes a few steps closer to me and sticks out his hand. “Ex-agent Xi. And I have an offer for you.” He also takes out a worn Genesis ID card and shows it to me.
I hesitate, but I shake his hand. It’s rough and cold from the intense weather. “What do you want?” I ask.
“A simple favor. You can call me D. What did Genesis name you?” His voice is smooth and calm.
“Skye.”
“Okay, Skye.” Suddenly an ear-splitting alarm goes off behind me, and I jump. I knew I couldn’t trust Jerry—I wasn’t going to pay him anyway. I have to get out of here.
“To my truck, hurry.” D motions me to follow him across the street to a big parking lot, and I do. Questioning or denying him is not an option right now.
We frantically climb into a rusted, beat-up white pickup truck with squeaky doors. D starts the engine, and we leave the parking lot in seconds, tire marks streaking the asphalt.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, we arrive in a small rural town outside the city, and we stop at a place called the Starr Motel. It looks just like any other sketchy, rundown motel would; it has large neon signs that have long lost their glow, a parking lot filled with potholes, the smell of cigarettes permeate the air, the once colorful exterior paint faded, the doors and windows are coated in bronze-colored rust.
“Swanee is a good friend of mine. She worked for Genesis too,” D explains, killing the engine and hopping out of the truck. I follow him eagerly. We walk to the very first motel room that I guess is used to check people in and out. The room is tiny. One mustard-yellow wall holds thirty little gold keys. There are two sunken couches, a wooden front desk, and an old box-shaped TV that plays the news. A little gold bell like in all the old movies sits on the front desk, and D taps it in a sequence. Probably a code. Moments later, a woman appears.
“Good to see you, D.” the woman says.
“Swanee, this is Skye, an ex-orphan trainee.” D introduces me to the woman, and I smile meekly.
“I can’t believe they’re still taking orphans like that.” Swanee says in disgust. She’s tall, with a short black bob, olive skin, muscular body, and a sharp, defined face with brown eyes. She wears a wrinkled red flannel and jeans, and she smells of cheap bar soap. An ugly scar lines the side of her neck. “Let me guess. Spy?” Swanee says to me, looking me up and down.
“They tried to train me to be an assassin.” I shrug.
“Dang—and you look so young too. Shame. Don’t worry, you’ll be safe here. D and I have known each other for decades.” She snatches a key off of its hook and throws it to D, who catches it in a split second. Swanee grins. “You still have the best coordination, D.”
“I know.” D replies, but I can sense in his voice that he’s smiling. He puts the key in his pocket. “Do you mind keeping Skye with you? I think she could use the company, especially from a woman and another former agent.”
“Of course.” Swanee opens the back door, and motions for me to follow her. I obey, and D nods to Swanee before heading to his own motel room. Swanee closes the door and locks it behind us. The room is actually decent. There are two queen size beds with sleek black comforters and pillows, a silver dresser with a massive flat screen TV that barely fits on it, a fluorescent blue fish tank in the corner housing a school of yellow fish, and all kinds of modern gadgets and electronics are scattered throughout the room. The walls have been painted black. Large framed pictures of women on motorcycles line one wall. Video game consoles and CDs are piled in a
corner. One bed is unmade, so I’m guessing that one is Swanee’s. I sit on the neater one and take off my tennis shoes.
“One thing I learned from that place is how to go unnoticed. I was a spy for the American embassy for ten years, and I was transferred to Genesis for a few years after I broke my back.” Swanee says, slipping out of her flannel and shoes. “I used my ability to blend in to steal all this stuff from the Best Buy at the mall.”
“Wow…” I say, not bothering hiding the amazement in my voice as my eyes land on an unopened Macbook Air. Swanee throws on a worn T-shirt and turns on the television.
“Go ahead,” she says. “You can have it. Do you know how to take it off the system?”
“Of course.” I say, already walking over to it. I sit down cross-legged on the floor, giddy with excitement, and begin unboxing it. Whenever I get my hands on technology I’ve never seen before, I can’t help but get excited, like a little kid on Christmas Day. Just minutes later I’m hacking the system and removing the laptop from the grid, so no one, not even Genesis, can track it back to the Starr Motel or me.
“You’re good at what you do.” Swanee says, watching me from afar. “It’s getting late, so I’m crashing for the night. If you’re hungry there’s food in the fridge, you can take whatever you want.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Mhm.” But Swanee is already curled up in her bed, a heating pad on her once-broken back.
* * *
The next morning, I awake to large strips of sunlight peeking through the window curtains and onto my face. I sit up in bed and rub my eyes groggily, brushing my hair out of my face. At first I forget where I am, and I look around frantically. Then I remember. I’d escaped last night. I am free.
Now what? I have to do D a favor. Then I will be 100% free. What will I do with myself then? I have no idea. I don’t know what kind of favor D wants me to do for him, but I hope it’s nothing too major. I mean, what could he possibly want?
Swanee comes into the room then, holding two styrofoam to-go boxes. The smell of cinnamon pervades the air. She turns on a lamp. Today she wears an orange flannel and sweatpants, her hair messy from sleep. She wears a black back brace. “I see you’re up. I made French toast.”
“Thanks.” I say, taking one of the boxes from her and opening it.
“D said he wants to meet you in the lobby in an hour.” Swanee adds.
“Okay.” I reply. “Is there a bathroom I could freshen up in? And possibly some extra clothes?”
“My bathroom is right here.” Swanee motions to the door beside her bed with her half-eaten slice of French toast. “You can go through my closet for something that fits you.”
“Perfect.” I get up and head into the bathroom, which is just as tricked out and modern as Swanee’s bedroom.
* * *
An hour later, D waits for me in the lobby of the Starr Motel. He wears his usual attire. I wear a white sweater, black skinny jeans and black Vans with beige soles that are a size too big. I smell like jasmine instead of sweat thanks to Swanee.
We step outside. The sky is a bright baby blue with no clouds and a tiny white sun, and most of the snow has melted. The area around us is dead silent. The only cars in the parking lot are D’s white pickup and a cherry-red Harley Davidson motorcycle, most likely Swanee’s.
“Are you sure it’s safe to talk out here?” I say. The air is thin and chilly, and I cross my arms over my chest.
“Probably not, but Scorpion only comes to this town twice a month to trade. There’s no reason for Genesis agents to come here.” D scrolls through something on his cell phone—text messages. Harper Cambridge , the heading reads.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
“The girl you’re going to help,” D explains. “Harper and her sister are in danger because of what Scorpion’s about to do. Their lives may even be at risk…”
“Scorpion? You mean, the project that Genesis replaced?”
“Yes. They turned themselves into an illegal underground organization. They’re getting into trading, mostly jewels and electronics and gadgets across the dark web and the black market, but also weapons and guns and illegally printed money. They’re trying to—well, they will —shut down Genesis and get revenge on the man who created it in just a few days. They’re calling the process Operation Zero.”
“And what does this Harper girl have to do with all this?”
“Harper and her twin sister Joanna don’t know this yet, but their mother is lying to them. She’s fully involved in the Scorpion ex-agents and Operation Zero; I saw her at the emergency meeting I attended yesterday. Her father—the twins’ grandfather—created the Genesis Project, and I can’t believe she’s going to betray them…I need to get Harper and Joanna to safety, today .”
“So, why can’t they just save themselves?” I question.
D sighs. “Their mother never told them about the family business—they’re oblivious to everything.”
“Why do you want to save them?”
“It’s a good deed,” he says simply. “Once their grandfather sees that I’m still on his side, he’ll let me become a Genesis agent.”
Without D approaching me during my escape, I don’t know where I would be right now, so I guess I’ll help him. “Alright. How can I help?”
5.
Harper
I try calling Mom’s cell phone. No answer. I try calling Aunt Veronica next, but she doesn’t pick up, either. Part of me doesn’t expect her to.
Joanna is barely awake. There are footsteps above us. Scorpion is probably all over the place, searching for us. I hear their muffled voices and their heavy, dramatic steps. If they come down here and see the bookcase tipped over, they’ll most likely see the panic room door. But hopefully they won’t be able to open it.
I check the time on my cell phone. 10:11 p.m. I yawn before shutting down my phone and shoving it into my pocket. It’s still on full battery, but I want to be sure I’m saving its juice.
I look at the door opposite of the one we came in through. Maybe there’s food and blankets and stuff in there? I stand and slowly walk over to the door. I reach out to open it, but there’s no knob. Instead there is a screen that’s the size of my head, with a blue button and a speaker below it. I press the button without thinking, and it glows a bright blue. “Good evening, Ms. Cambridge,” a computerized male voice says. What the— “All systems are updated and clear. What is your request?” Four options pop up on the small screen:
Lockdown On/Off
Call Genesis
Open Escape Door
View All Cameras
“Well, then,” I mutter, tapping the fourth option. Twenty windows appear on the screen in rows of four, and I can see the entire house in eerie green night vision, interior and exterior. I see black Suburbans in the driveway. Scorpion is all over the house and the backyard, rummaging through the living room, kitchen, closets, bedrooms.
“Would you like to enable audio recording, Ms. Cambridge?” the computerized voice asks. “My motion sensors think there may be intruders in your home. Would you like to activate the alarm system as well?”
My heart is racing again, my palms clammy, and I take deep breaths. “Y-Yes?” I say. Hopefully this thing doesn’t realize that I’m not my mother.
A few seconds later, I’m able to hear everything Scorpion is saying, but they’re not talking as much as I’d like. Then the alarm goes off. It’s high-pitched and so loud I can hear it all the way down here, without the audio. I watch as they startle and begin to scramble. One guy pulls out a walkie-talkie and shouts into it, “ Abort! Abort to the trucks !” and they all run out of the house. There are seven people in each car, a total of twenty-one, and after a few moments they all speed away, nearly knocking over a street light. Are they really this stupid? I think to myself. I look over all twenty cameras again. The house is empty. I leave the View All Cameras tab before pressing the Home Lockdown On/Off button. Then, all the doors that had been left open su
ddenly shut and lock on their own, along with the windows.
“The house is currently on lockdown.” the voice announces. “I suggest calling your father or Genesis’s emergency services for further aid.”
I clear my throat. “No.” I say sternly.
“Okay, Ms. Cambridge. Would you like me to start up the jet and search for a route to safety?”
“The… what ?”
“Your jet. All systems are clear for flying, although it is due for routine inspection.”
I press the Open Escape Door button, but nothing happens. The voice says, “Please place your right hand on the screen for identity verification.” An outline of a hand, most likely my mother’s, pops up and blinks at me.
“This is crazy,” I mutter to myself, but I place my hand on the blue screen anyway. Moments later it buzzes, and a fat green check mark replaces the hand.
“You are Harper Violet Cambridge.” the voice says, somehow happily. “My apologies. You sound very much like Victoria. How may I assist you?”
“Who does my mom work for?”
“Your grandfather, Ronaldo Cambridge, owns and operates the Genesis Project, a top-secret FBI project located in…”
I stop listening; D told me all this already...I believe him now, and trust him to help me find out where my mother went.
“Do you have a name?” I ask the voice.
“Victoria named me Mavis. I am here to help you and your sister in any situation and am programmed into all of your electronic devices.” the voice—Mavis—replies.
“Wait, you’re in my phone?”
Rogue (The Genesis Files Book 1) Page 3
