Her eyes devoured every word, skimming the paper so fast I was surprised she had actually had time to read everything. When she was done, she looked up with a smile on her face. I pointed to the place where her part was explained and gave her a questioning glance. Can you do it? my eyes asked.
She nodded.
I stood up and unlocked the door, motioning for her to follow. Her eyebrows rose in question as she followed me out. I handed her another piece of paper, explaining how I had gotten her a room inside one of the buildings since she was now a critical piece in our plan. Yvonne smiled contently as she read.
We walked up the stairs and headed down the hallway at the top. I opened a small room that was originally meant as a closet but was the best we could scrounge up. Yvonne disapprovingly surveyed the small room that could barely hold the bed and chair we had managed to squeeze in, but she eventually shrugged and situated herself on the cushions.
I grabbed a pen from my pocket and scribbled something onto a scrap of notebook paper. I’ll be back later to discuss details of the plan. Just sit tight.
I pulled out a pair of keys and smiled apologetically at Yvonne. I hated to do this to her. At least this room had a bed and a tiny window; much better than the cell she had recently been in.
Yvonne gave me a look as if saying do you really think that’ll keep me in here? She was eyeing the keys reproachfully.
I sighed. They don’t trust you, I mouthed. Yet. Yvonne only frowned. Better than the cell, I scribbled onto the paper. Took a lot of arguing to get this room.
And with that, I left, locking the door behind me. I closed my eyes, praying Yvonne wouldn’t leave. I had done a lot of arguing to get her that room. I didn’t want my ally in our plan to be stuck in a cell downstairs. It just didn’t seem right. But the only reason they had agreed to let me move her to a room was because they underestimated her. A locked door wouldn’t stop Yvonne. Even a doubly lined locked door, like the one in her room.
I sighed. If she had wanted to leave, she would’ve by now. That’s why I trusted her. You couldn’t make her do anything. You couldn’t control Yvonne.
Chapter Twenty-six
Sun shone through the tent, forcing my eyes open. I sat up and looked at my light-dappled sleeping bag. I rubbed my eyes and let out a slow sigh. I had been rushing nonstop the past few days, writing and rewriting plans, and had taken hardly any time at all to just relax. Last night I had reluctantly gone to sleep after much pressing from Cassandra and Jessica, telling me that I needed rest.
I let my legs fall over the side of my bed, glad they had talked me into sleeping, because I felt much more energized than I had in awhile. I stood up, running my fingers through my hair and quickly getting dressed into jeans and a T-shirt.
I walked out of the tent and looked around in surprise to see that, during the night, an inch of snow had blanketed the frozen ground, covering its ugliness until spring. I looked around at the white mantled trees and tents and headed toward the building where Yvonne was staying. I knocked on her door, and Yvonne’s bored voice answered. I walked in to see her lying on the bed reading a magazine. She looked up and halfheartedly smiled when I came in.
I sat down in the chair and held out a box of chocolates I had brought with me from my tent. “You want some?” I asked her, shaking the box.
Yvonne frowned at me, her nose wrinkling. “I don’t eat, Drew,” she said snottily. “Never have. You know that.” She went back to studying her magazine.
I wrinkled my nose at her and shrugged, popping a chocolate in my mouth. We sat there for a moment in silence while I chewed my candy.
“Well, I just wanted to say good morning,” I told her, beginning to stand up.
“Yeah, whatever,” Yvonne replied, pointing to her neck, reminding me once again that every word I said was being heard by the creators.
I gave her a knowing look and left the room. I stood out in the hallway for a moment, staring at the door I had just locked. I still had some doubt about Yvonne nagging me in the back of my mind. I frowned and tried to push it away; I had no time to wonder about her, I had no time to do anything. I just had to trust her. There was no alternative.
I started heading down the hallway and found myself going down the stairs that led to the cells where Michael was still being kept. I suddenly realized I hadn’t seen Michael in quite awhile. I had been so preoccupied, I had stopped visiting him as frequently as I used to.
It was absolutely silent as I walked down the stairs; the only noise was the clicking of my shoes against the floor. I walked into the hallway and automatically headed for my chair across the cells, but something made me stop.
My heart began to race, my breathing stopped, my hands clenched at my sides. I forced myself to look again at what I had just barely glanced upon. Seeing it again only made my heart race faster.
The cell in which Michael had spent so much time was empty, the door hanging slightly ajar. I wanted to run. To run anywhere. To the cell, to the others, to the forest. But my legs were frozen; the blood in my veins had turned cold.
Michael gone? Again? My mind thought numbly. For some reason I couldn’t comprehend this, but at the same time I wasn’t really surprised.
I turned and ran from the room. I didn’t know who I wanted to talk to. I didn’t know which person I should tell. There wasn’t much of a threat. The creators already knew where we were. Michael running back to them wouldn’t change that. The only thing that had been hurt was my heart. Because with Michael gone, any hope of him returning to me had been destroyed.
I felt hot tears start to slide down my face, although it remained expressionless. My feet stumbled across the clearing, my mind repeating one word over and over again in my mind like a broken record. Michael.
I reached Marian’s tent minutes later and found her reading on her bed. I didn’t know why I had wanted her. I didn’t know why she was the first person I wanted to tell. Maybe because she was so understanding, so kind. She wouldn’t pity me like Beatrix or Cassandra, and she wouldn’t freak out like Jessica. She would just comfort me, and I didn’t care if it was selfish to want to tell her first instead of Jessica.
Marian stood up abruptly. “Drew,” she said, her voice laced with concern. “What’s wrong?”
I stood there, tears streaming down my face, not trying to hold them back because I knew it was no use. “Michael,” I heard myself saying, although the voice coming out sounded nothing like mine. “He’s gone.”
Marian’s expression softened. “He escaped?” she asked.
I nodded. I opened my mouth to say more, to reassure her he couldn’t affect our plan, to tell her how much this hurt, but I faltered. Before I could say a word, Marian had crossed the space between us and enveloped me in a hug. I cried into her shoulder until my tears ran dry.
* * * *
I was back by the cells, staring at the empty room in which Michael had stayed for so long. I hadn’t touched the door; I hadn’t touched anything. The room was silent. I could hear my breathing; steady and consistent. My eyes watered from being held open too long, and I blinked, clearing my vision.
I stood up from my chair and made my way to the cell. I reached out to touch the door, strangely feeling closer to Michael, knowing he was the last person to touch it this way. I told myself I was silly and let go, my fingers sliding slowly off the metal.
I walked into the cell, trying to imagine what it must have felt like to live here for so long; bars keeping you back from life. Tears sprang to my eyes again. You’re better off out of here, I thought. I reached up to wipe my eyes, but I glanced something in the corner. Something on the floor.
I walked closer to get a better look, and what I saw made my eyes widen. All those weeks of Michael scratching away at the stone floor. What had he been doing? The answer stared me in the eyes as I looked down to see my face etched in the stone.
My eyes were open and staring, my mouth curved downward like it normally does when I have no smile or frown to
express. I was expressionless, simply watching. Like I had done for so many weeks.
I frowned, realizing I had never known Michael could draw. He had never told me. It almost scared me how lifelike the drawing was. Her eyes drew me in, and I could almost tell that they were blue.
I stood there, staring into my eyes until the Stone Drew drove me away with her expressionless gaze.
Chapter Twenty-seven
We need a way to get into the Institution, the paper read. That phrase had been repeating in my mind for days now. We needed a plan, but what? We had used multiple ways before, but by now, I knew the creators must have stepped up the Institution security. Yvonne quickly saw my words and looked up at me, shrugging. I held in a groan of frustration; not so much with her, but with the situation. We can’t use tactics we’ve used before, I wrote. Ideas?
Yvonne frowned, her forehead wrinkling in thought. I thought as well, although my brain was all thought out. I had gone over plan after plan, realizing none of them would work. I needed someone who knew the Institution and the creators inside and out. I needed Yvonne.
Suddenly she looked up, a smile covering her face. She grabbed the pen and paper, furiously scribbling. Jeremy, the paper said. Jeremy. Hundreds of memories flooded my mind. Memories of Jeremy back at the Institution, memories of our days with Yvonne and him, breaking into the Institution.
I looked down at the paper and smiled.
* * * *
We had a plan. Not a great plan, but a pretty good one. A plan rushed together, but well thought out at the same time. A plan we hoped and prayed would work.
Jeremy was the inside man, Yvonne was the hacker and Cassandra, Beatrix, Cameron, and I were the guards. We didn’t dare bring any others for fear of being caught. This was a large job that needed only a few people.
Yvonne had found a way to contact Jeremy through text, going through various questions and answers to prove that it was really him. Jeremy had agreed to play a prerecorded tape of an empty hallway over the camera recording screen, making our entrance clean and unnoticeable. A quick meeting with him in a private setting got us a key to unlock the doors without an alarm sounding. If the plan went smoothly, we would get in, guard Yvonne while she hacked the computers, and get out. It seemed like the perfectly thought out plan. If it went smoothly...
Which they never seemed to do.
It was perfect. Almost too perfect. But we didn’t have time to redesign our plan. We didn’t have time for plan B in case of problems or timing. We didn’t have time to wait another day.
We were leaving in the morning. Leaving to save the perfected, or become one once again.
Chapter Twenty-eight
It was dark. One o’clock in the morning. The car rattled as we bounced along the pothole-filled road. We were quiet, listening to our breathing and the beating of our hearts. No one said a word. No one had anything to say. I looked out the window, but all I saw was black.
Cassandra leaned forward from the back seat to hand me a small, cheap, pre-paid cell phone. She quickly handed one to everyone else. “Just in case we get separated. We’ll text each other alerts,” she reminded us in a barely audible whisper – Yvonne was still equipped with the creators’ recording device. This would be her last chance to explain things. Possibly her last time explaining anything if we didn’t play this right. She just didn’t say it out loud. Saying it out loud seemed to make it more real. She glanced around at all of us to make sure we had all heard it; she had whispered it so quietly on account of Yvonne’s recording chip.
I took one last glance around the car. Cassandra, Cameron, and Yvonne were all sitting in the back seat, Yvonne in the middle, and Beatrix was driving the car. They all looked scared; their faces were white. Something flipped in my stomach, and I tried to calm my nerves.
Suddenly the car came to a stop, and once Beatrix shut off the engine, it was deadly silent. I couldn’t even hear breathing. We sat there for a moment, just sitting. I finally motioned for everyone to get going, and we all quickly left the vehicle.
Beatrix had parked the car in an old grocery store parking lot a few blocks away from the Institution, and the plan was to return here after our sabotage. I gave everyone one last nervous look. We were all wearing black; black shirts, jeans, and sneakers.
How original.
My hair was pulled tight into a ponytail, out of my eyes, and my face felt oddly exposed; the searing wind of early winter stung my face. I clutched the gun in my hand, wishing we didn’t need to have them, but knowing that they would be good backup as a last resort. I saw a flash of light and looked over to see that Yvonne had just received a text message. After a quick glance at her phone, she turned to us and showed us the text saying that the recording was in place.
We trudged through the few inches of snow that covered the ground, and I looked up, upon feeling something cold and wet brush against my skin, to see that it was snowing. I stared up at the polka-dotted sky and watched as the snow slowly fluttered to the ground.
We were walking faster now, hurrying down the sidewalk, getting closer and closer to the Institution. We were all silent; all we could hear was the quiet padding of our footsteps against the snow and the quiet scraping noise as our arms brushed against our sides.
When the Institution came into view, my first instinct was to halt, but I forced my legs onward toward the back door we had been instructed to enter through. I swiped the card key and watched as the little light turned from red to green, and the door unlocked. I shot a smile at the others, and we slipped into the dark hallway.
There were no noises, just the hum of the dim lights overhead and the tension in the air. Jeremy had told us about all the guard posts, and we hurried down the hallway, being sure to avoid them. I knew where the computer room was, as I had been there before, but Yvonne led the way down the corridor. She knew this place better than I did. It seemed like a lifetime ago since I had been here.
The hallway widened, and doors came more frequently. My heart was pounding in my chest and I kept my breathing low. The hand that was holding my gun was beginning to sweat, and I had to change hands frequently, careful to avoid the trigger. Our footsteps suddenly seemed too loud, and I waved my hands, motioning for us to slow down. We tiptoed across the floor and finally reached the door to the computer room. Yvonne slowed down and held a finger up to her lips, jerking her head in the direction of the door.
There was someone inside. There was always someone inside. We neatly lined up beside the door, and on the count of three, Yvonne yanked it open. We all rushed in, and the creator at the desk turned sharply around, his eyes wide with shock. He reached for something at his belt; a gun. But Cameron already had his pistol pointed at the creator’s forehead. “Don’t move.” His voice was low, and his eyes were dark and menacing. The creator drew in a shaky breath and raised his hands slightly higher. Cassandra quickly headed toward the man and, finding him still human, quickly knocked him out with a hit to the back of his neck. The creator crumpled in his chair, and Beatrix and I hurriedly moved him to the floor.
Yvonne quickly took the seat and immediately started typing away at the computer. I watched as box after box popped up on the screen, and multiple warning noises accompanied by red lettering flashed across the monitor.
I jogged to the door and quickly looked out into the hallway. I saw no signs of creators or androids, but I waved Cameron and Cassandra over anyway. “You stay right outside the door, and you watch from down the hallway,” I told Cassandra and then Cameron. They nodded and Cameron sprinted down the corridor as Cassandra stationed herself by the entrance. I partially shut the door and headed back to where Yvonne was busy typing away, Beatrix at her side.
“I thought you said you could do this,” I whispered to her, noticing the she had gotten no farther.
Yvonne turned to glare daggers at me. “It’s not a piece of cake, you know,” she snapped and then pointed to her neck and widened her eyes, reminding me of our constant watch. I shut my mo
uth and started to pace back and forth.
Seconds ticked by, and my heart sped up. It seemed with every minute that passed my breathing and heart rate increased in speed. Multiple times I thought I heard footsteps, only to find that it was Beatrix shifting in the hallway.
I rubbed my hands together and tightened my ponytail. Two minutes. Three minutes. Four minutes. Five minutes.
I heard a clinking noise and turned to look at the computer. Yvonne was in.
Suddenly all three of our phones flashed, and I looked around in confusion. We hadn’t planned any updates during this time. Something had to be wrong. I pulled out my phone and read the message. My eyes widened. Caught...
Suddenly the door burst open, and my eyes flew to Cassandra standing in the doorway. “They’re coming,” she hissed, her normally light eyes shadowed by darkness and filled with dread.
Yvonne turned around, seeming to be the calmest out of all of us, but still the crankiest. “I need more time,” she hissed back, her tone threatening to break into hysteria. I looked frantically from Cassandra to Yvonne.
Cassandra shook her head again. “They’re coming now.”
Yvonne cursed and turned back to the computer. I ran to the doorway and looked out. Cameron was running at full speed toward us, shaking his head, and waving behind him. I saw no creators or androids at the moment, but I knew they must be close. Suddenly I heard footsteps thundering our way, and I knew our time was up. “Yvonne,” I snapped.
“Not done,” she hissed back.
I clenched my fists and let out a frustrated sigh. “Doesn’t matter, we’re leaving.”
“I’m so close,” she replied.
“Yvonne!” I nearly shrieked, watching as the androids came into view. I heard her hurry up behind me with another string of profanity, and we were all out in the hallway and running. I quickly checked to make sure that everyone had made it out, and we sprinted down the corridor.
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