Adrenaline Rush

by Cindy M. Hogan

  “Did you notice that everyone was staring at you? They’re still staring at you. You are a target.”

  “Well, if that’s true, then I’m going to use this to my best advantage.” I didn’t know what that would be, but I hoped to figure it out.

  “I’m sure you will,” she said, shaking her head.

  I looked down at my tablet.

  Reminder! Tonight: dance after dinner and tomorrow a circus.

  Mess hall open 24 hours a day.

  No curfew.

  “Are you kidding me?” I said to Frankie. “He rules our every move for almost five and a half days a week and then he lets everyone go free for a day and a half? That just doesn’t make any sense at all.”

  “I don’t care why he’s doing it,” she said. “I’m just glad he is.”

  Her words answered my question. He did this because the kids would love him for it.

  Frankie and I walked into the mess hall and saw Zoey pacing and wringing her hands in front of the table I had sat at for breakfast and lunch. What was up with her? She spotted me when I was only about ten feet away and sprang forward.

  “What have you done?” she said, grabbing my arm and leading me to the side of the room. Frankie followed.

  “What’s going on, Zoey?” Frankie asked.

  “Do you have a death wish?” Zoey asked me.

  “Not you, too. You know I don’t have a death wish. I want to live and help save everyone.” I stared hard at her.

  “Just an FYI,” Zoey whispered, “the last person Sterling challenged like that was dead two weeks later.”

  I raised my eyebrows. I guessed he was the type of madman who killed his equals. No buddies for him. I could be in trouble, but it didn’t feel like it. I pointed to my ear to remind her he was listening.

  “He only listens in your room, not out here.” She ran her fingers through her hair. Frankie shifted from one leg to the other. “He sees everything, but doesn’t hear everything outside your room. I told you to stand out, sure. But this?”

  “He was the one who came after me. I don’t want to challenge him or be an assassin. What did you want me to do?” I was ecstatic that he only listened to us in our rooms. This gave me more hope of escape.

  “Lay down and play dead, that’s what.” She threw her arms out to the side. Frankie leaned on the wall.

  I whispered, “It didn’t feel right to do that. I had to do what my gut was telling me to do and that was to play him hard. Besides, he likes me.” I felt the burning again, the voice, almost a whisper, telling me I was on the right track.

  “Well, now you’re going to have to pick it up. You’re going to have to play the game and play it really hard or he’ll know you’re holding back. He will hold you accountable. He’s a harsh judge, if you haven’t noticed.”

  “I’m sorry.” I said, looking at her black jumpsuit. “I’m sorry you have to be a servant because of him. I will do everything in my power to get us all out of here.” I reached out and brushed her arm.

  “That’s the thing, Misha, you have no power here.” She pulled away from my touch. “He has it all. He has all the love, the support. He has everything. You. Me. We have exactly nothing.”

  “Stop!” I said, louder than I’d intended. “Don’t say that. It’s not true. It’s what he wants you to believe. You don’t have to believe that. We can have all of that. All of it. So let’s go for it.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, because he certainly does. What did he say to you when he pulled you to the side?”

  “He wants to have breakfast with me on Monday.”

  “Oh, man. You be careful. Tread lightly.”

  Frankie’s attention had left us. She now watched a group of boys playing some shoot ‘em up video game. She wasn’t so boy crazy back in Oregon. What had gotten into her?

  “I’ll just continue with what I’ve been doing. I’ll remain honest.”

  “I don’t know if it’ll serve you well.” Zoey took a small step away from me.

  “Well, it’s gonna have to, because that’s all I’ve got. I have to be honest.” Ironic, but that was another lie. I knew I’d never be able to tell the truth here. I thought of all of all the lies I’d told since getting on this mission and felt momentary guilt. I had to be honest on my terms now. Terms that pushed the greater good.

  “Please, for me, if you won’t do it for yourself,” she said, taking a step toward me and grabbing both my wrists. “Go full force.” She looked so serious, so desperate.

  I reached out and hugged her. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay, really.”

  It shocked me to see tears on her cheeks when she pulled back and walked away. She thought I was dead. I could see it in her eyes. How many of her friends had she seen die here? I didn’t want to hurt her more by putting myself in harm’s way again. But, I had to do what I felt was right. Good things followed me when I chose to listen to my heart. I hoped Zoey wouldn’t suffer in the meantime.

  At our table, I pulled Frankie and Duncan in close and told them what Sterling had told me about Lunden, Maddie, Payden, and Anna, that they were alive. As if the spell had lifted from Duncan, he said, “Are you serious? They’re alive? Even the people we fought?” A wave of complete and total relief washed over Duncan. He took deep, cleansing breaths, staring intently at me.

  “Yes!” I said. “They’re alive and well. Except maybe Lunden. I think he’s still recovering. There was poison and blood in those knives Sterling gave us. It was all staged.”

  Duncan stood up, raised his arms and his head to the ceiling and called out, “Hallelujah!”

  Duncan must have been unable to deal with the fact he’d killed a man. Now that his guilt was lifted, he’d found his voice. Maybe he would now become leader material again.

  Right after that our table suddenly became the interesting table. A bunch of Whities and Blackies came over. They came to see me. Maybe Sterling had wanted everyone to look up to me. They wanted to know what Sterling had said to me. I had attained celebrity status. I told them it was between him and me and not to worry about it.

  A Whitie came up and said, “What spell did you place on Sterling and will you teach it to me?”

  “No spell,” I said.

  “Well, I think he’s in love with you.” The boy chuckled.

  “Hardly.” I tugged at his white sleeve and said, “What was your kill?” I didn’t want to know, but I needed allies.

  “You want to see it?” he said, totally excited. I watched his name, Seth, flash across the screen of his tablet before he pulled the video up.

  “You recorded it?” I asked.

  “Sterling records them all. Check this out.”

  It’s terrible to watch anyone die.

  Seth’s mark was an evangelist preacher who promised people healings and blessings when they donated to his church. The healings were bogus—staged by his own family members. People with real illnesses and disabilities sent him their money, sometimes their entire life savings, and got nothing in return. On his show he pledged he would dedicate all donations to further his ministry of healing. In private, he piled the money in stacks around him as he bought yachts, luxury houses, and cars. None of the money went to help anyone but himself.

  The man was in love with his money. Seth had used that love of money to create the poetic end for the preacher. The preacher always made a ritual of opening letters in his office, pulling out the money and running any donation higher than ten dollars over his lips and taking a big whiff. When he did this to the bills Seth sent, he seemed fine, moving on to several other bills when suddenly, his lips and nose began to blister and pop. Boils and lesions appeared on his face, neck, and hands. He started screaming as they all popped and festered. He died in less than five minutes.

  Seth was laughing and pointing, making fun of the man in his agony. I had to choke back the bile in the back of my throat and disappear into my happy place, reminding myself that this kid was brainwashed. Before he met Ste
rling, he’d most likely been a normal boy.

  “That rocked,” I said to him, trying to force enthusiasm on my face. “I can’t wait until I get my chance.”

  “It’ll come soon enough, Roberts. You’re obviously one of his favorites. It won’t be long.” He stood up and went to join the kids playing the video games.

  After dinner, I wasn’t ready to go to the dance, so I went outside to explore, instead. Frankie and Duncan were excited to go to the dance and left to get ready. My spidey senses had been raging all day. Danger. Danger. Of course there was danger. This whole place was laced with danger.

  I was getting to the point where I was ignoring them. I wished I’d been able to sense Sterling arriving during my fight class through all my noisy feelings, but I hadn’t. I headed for a forested area and thought I noticed a heightened sense of warning, but couldn’t be sure. I looked around and tried to discover what might be causing it. I couldn’t see or hear anything, so I continued on my path deeper into a wooded area to the left of the building. I had to push on a lot of branches to make my way through. I would have to start listening to my spidey senses a bit differently. This would be a good test.

  Finally, I emerged into a small, open space where several trees had been cut down, and it looked like someone had made a fire pit in the center. Smoke swirled out of it. I walked right up to the hole and stared down into it. Red and white coals flickered. At that moment, someone grabbed me from behind, his big hands and arms lifting me up into the air and then slamming me to the ground next to the fire pit. I didn’t have a chance to react. Dust billowed around my face and body, and I coughed hard once I’d caught my breath. I guess I had felt a heightened sense of warning.

  “You,” the strong boy said, forcing his knee into my back. “Who are you, why are you here in our meeting place, and what is it that makes you so special that Sterling would honor you?”

  Sterling had hardly honored me. I took a deep breath, trying to get enough air to answer my attacker, but ended up coughing my guts out as more dust flew in. He pulled me up by my arms, wrenching them behind me. I had to totally hold back and not fight them. A group of about twenty kids filtered out of the woods and into the clearing. None really looked familiar, but I’d only been here a few days. One thing I did notice was that they all wore white jumpsuits. All were successful assassins. They made a circle around me. The person holding me let go. I brushed my hair away from my face and used my sleeve to wipe away the dirt from my lips and eyes.

  “I’ll ask you one more time,” the boy said, “who are you, why are you here, and why is Sterling paying special attention to you?”

  The boy had reddish hair, bulging muscles, and a thick, red five o’clock shadow. He stood a good foot and a half taller than me. I vaguely remembered seeing a tuft of reddish hair at the shooting range. I think he was in the advanced group of snipers.

  “My name is Misha,” I said, spitting out dirt after I said it. “I was just exploring the grounds. I didn’t know this was your special spot, and I don’t know why Sterling has taken an interest in me.” In my mind I was thinking of how I could take them all out if necessary.

  Several in the circle snickered.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “We’re a group of Whities dedicated to protecting Sterling and this cause.” Immediately after he said it, the group chanted the chant and stomped their feet.

  “We’ll be watching you, Misha. One misstep from you and you can kiss your life here goodbye.”

  I wanted to laugh. That’s all I wanted. He was referring to my death, but I thought it would be interesting if they actually knew a way out.

  “Well, I won’t be misstepping,” I said. “How can I help?”

  They all laughed. “You,” the naturally red-haired guy said, “can’t help at this point. You have to be a Whitie to join us.” He pulled at the jumpsuit he wore.

  “Alrighty then, should I stay away from here from now on?”

  “Yes! No non-Whities allowed.”

  “I’ll be sure to steer clear, then. Sorry to interrupt. May I leave?” I figured if I pretended to be humble, I’d get out of there unscathed.

  “Sure. Remember, we’re watching.”

  I waved goodbye and pushed my way back out of the forest. I had to learn to fine-tune my spidey senses to feel imminent danger when danger hung all around me. I had to learn to filter, if that was possible.

  Once inside the building, I ran into Zoey.

  “Misha,” she said, grabbing my arm, “Where have you been?” She trailed off, looking around her like she didn’t want anyone to hear us, and then started again. “What happened to you?” She pulled me to the side of the hallway to let some other kids pass. She scrutinized my face and then my injuries. It felt good to have someone care.

  “Nothing really. I ran into a group of Whities that have taken on the security of Sterling.”

  “Oh, them,” she said, eyes wide. “Stay away from them. Their bite is way more impressive than their bark. They are dangerous.” She looked at my scraped up elbows and forehead and led me back to my room. “Looks like you got off easy.” The door opened for her when she tried the knob.

  “Hold on,” I said. “You have access to my room?”

  “Of course,” she said. “I’m your helper. All helpers need 24-7 access to the one they are helping. I’m responsible for you.” A put-off look crossed her face.

  “It surprised me, is all,” I said, feeling very annoyed and trespassed even though I really liked her.

  She went straight into my bathroom, wet a towel down and gently washed my scrapes. “Well, this simply won’t do. You’ve got to shower and get all this dust off you. You’re a mess.”

  I followed orders. After I showered, I made a point of looking for the incision they’d used to insert my tracker. Even though it was still tender, I poked around until I felt the small, hard tracker, and then took note of the position of the small incision on the still tender brand. It would be easiest to remove the tracker from the same spot it had been inserted—when I was ready.

  When I came out, she was digging under the bed. I took a deep breath, feeling my eyes turn the size of lemons. The lip balm from Jeremy. How had I forgotten about it? I should have moved it to a safer place. Before I could protest and tell her I’d get the first aid kit, she’d pulled it out and set it on the bed. I sighed with relief and sat down so she could goo me up.

  “How have you been able to stay tender and kind living here?” I asked.

  That seemed to take her aback, but she answered in a whisper. “I pretend I’m someone else while I have to do all the awful stuff. I tuck that person away when I don’t.”

  She acted—just like I did.

  Only once Zoey was sure I’d been completely patched up did we head for the dance. I saw a bunch of kids writing things down on pieces of paper and sticking them into a box. I walked over. “What is this?” I asked.

  A girl with curly orange hair chimed in. “It’s the weekend suggestion box. You can suggest activities and events for the weekends. Sterling really tries to accommodate all our wishes.” She smiled brightly. “I hope he picks mine.”

  We turned to go into the lunchroom that had been transformed into a dance hall. Sterling must do this to help further foster loyalty and love. He truly made them forget their old lives by giving them things they’d never get at home. I remembered hearing about Houston’s dad chasing the Avengers out of his house with a baseball bat when he was drunk and the poor conditions under which Frankie lived, never seeing her mom and having an absent dad. This place might start looking good to kids like them once the initial shock of it wore down.

  Sterling was a master at making everyone feel included from the second they walked into the Circus of Feats. He called them elite, amazing, and rare while pushing and pushing and telling them they could do it. He was slowly making the normal world look abnormal.

  I didn’t want to dance, but I needed to discover who my potential allies
and enemies were. I knew some of the Whities were contenders for enemies already. What about the rest of them? Once inside, it seemed that everyone wanted to get close to me because I had been close to Sterling. I knew all of these people were contenders for my enemies and wouldn’t be subversive.

  Frankie flirted her way into a group of boys and girls that danced every song. She looked like she was in heaven. It was looking less and less like I’d be able to center her attention on escaping. Zoey had disappeared. By midnight, I realized I was in the wrong place to find Sterling’s detractors. I began to walk off the floor, but was met by a short boy with a goatee and slicked black Dracula hair.

  “Whoa! Whoa!” he said. “You’re not leaving this dance floor without dancing with me first, right?” He batted his eyelashes at me and grinned.

  “You know that’s a girl’s move, right?” I said.

  “I was trying to win your heart with laughter. Go ahead now, laugh.” He laughed hysterically and then said, “Please, dance with me?” He was nervous as all get-out.

  “Fine, but just once.”

  “Great.” He turned and gave a thumbs-up to a group of guys who had been sitting in a dark corner all night long. He was their hero right now. I rolled my eyes.

  I spotted Zoey, and we locked stares. She knew I needed help and when the song ended, she came to my aide.

  “Goodnight,” I said to the boy, who never told me his name, and hurried off.

  Zoey acted as a bouncer, telling guys as they approached that I was bushed and had to go to bed. Once headed down my hall, she stopped me. “Aren’t you the superstar?”

  “I don’t want to be the superstar.”

  “Well, you are now.” Zoey had a way of pointing out the obvious. She moved closer and then whispered in my ear, “I’ve been busy finding some people you want to know.”

  “Ah Zoey, I can’t—”

  “You’ll want to meet with them. They’re rebels.” She moved back and waggled her eyebrows.

  “Fabulous. Have I told you lately that I think you’re amazing?” I said, wanting to give her a big kiss. “Where could we possibly meet, though?”