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Chase

Page 17

by Kate Breuer


  “And the other dude carried you in,” I add. “No way of getting past them with just a story.” I turn to Zeke. “Feel like punching someone, mate?”

  The bruises on my body haven’t fully healed. Starting another fight with Derec sounds like a horrible plan. But it seems I have no choice.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he answers with a wide grin.

  “You two stay here and wait until the coast is clear,” I instruct Liz and Chase while Zeke steps out onto the path. He laughs loudly and begins talking to me in a carrying voice to attract attention.

  Derec looks up. “Hoi, you two!” he shouts. “What are you doing here? Didn’t I give you the week off? Get your lazy asses home and let us do our job. Some of us actually work to earn a living.”

  “If we were as lazy as you say, we wouldn’t be here to take over for you two,” Zeke answers.

  “Who told you we were here?” Johnson glares at us in suspicion.

  “Some guy in the control room. Said you looked like you need a break,” Zeke goes on, spinning lies effortlessly.

  “He said his grandmother would look more threatening than you if you idiots keep yawning like this,” I add, egging Derec on. “Maybe you should ask your stupid little wife to take over. She might be more threatening.”

  The approach doesn’t work this time. Derec probably remembers the trick from our last fight. Or maybe he doesn’t want to lose it in front of Johnson. Whatever the reason, it means I need to win on pure strength. Fuck.

  Zeke looks at me for a second. Here we go.

  We both lunge at our opponents. I crash into Derec just when Zeke and Johnson collide. Surprised by the sudden attack, Derec falls over, and we roll on the grass. Each of us trying to get the upper hand.

  I find myself on top of Derec. Knees pinning him to the ground. Derec’s hand shoots toward my throat. I throw myself to the left. I roll over on my back and land neatly with one knee on the ground. Derec is struggling to his feet. Before he can stand, my fist collides with his jaw.

  I see Liz and Chase cowering at the edge of the path. The sight gives me a burst of energy. I don’t need to win. I need to keep Derec distracted. I jump a few steps back. Derec’s face is bleeding heavily. He spits out blood.

  Zeke scrambles to his feet. He throws me a look. We both leap forward, tackling our respective foes. They fall back onto the ground. This time, they fall facing away from the door. It should give Liz and Chase the chance they need.

  22

  Chase

  With bated breath, Liz and I crouch behind a large rosebush. I barely register how beautiful the flowers are. Silently, we cheer on the boys as they struggle with the two peacers.

  When the backs of the two guards are turned, Liz beckons, and we sneak past them. We move as fast as we can without drawing attention. Liz opens the door to the hospital and lets me in. With one last look at Nate and his friend fighting on the grass, I close the door between me and two men whose faces I never want to see again: the man who shot me and the man who tortured and tried to rape me.

  I always thought the hospital was just in the wall between the Middle and Inner Circle, but it’s apparently much bigger—covering an entire slice of the Inner Circle. Somehow it doesn’t surprise me those of us living in the outer Circles have access to only a small part of the facility.

  The hallways bring up memories of the break-in, which feels as if it was years ago now. I follow Liz, who seems to know her way around the place.

  “How long have you been working here?”

  “A few weeks,” she answers without looking at me or slowing down. “My mom got me the internship. I want to be a doctor.”

  She makes it sound as if she has a choice. Maybe the richer families are allowed to choose their jobs instead of being assigned one. Or maybe it’s a privilege she has because she’s the mayor’s daughter. Now is not the time to ask, though. We rush through corridor after corridor without being stopped until we reach the elevators on the other end.

  “The Inner Circle is a little elevated. We came in on the hospital’s second floor. We’ll have to get back down to the first. I’m trying to avoid crowded areas, so we won’t go through the main hall. I’m not supposed to leave the hospital on that side. You’ll be on your own as soon as you enter the Middle Circle,” Liz says.

  I nod. “Got it. Thanks for your help.”

  The elevator door slides open, and we step in. I make sure not to look at the camera in the ceiling and keep my hood up.

  I’m surprised when we reach a door I recognize. It’s the one I let the others through when we broke in. Liz leans against the handle and pushes. It doesn’t budge.

  She swears. “They must have locked it. They never do.”

  Her frustration is obvious, and it makes me feel caged again. For a moment, I’m back in my cell with nowhere to go. I shake myself to clear my head.

  “It’s the door I let my friends in through when we broke in. I guess they saw the footage and wanted to prevent a repeat.”

  “In that case, we have no other choice than the main lobby. Keep your hoodie up, and let’s hurry.” She heads toward the waiting room door, and I speed up to follow her. “This is as far as I go. Good luck!”

  I thank her again and open the door. The waiting room is full of people, but no one pays me any attention. I walk through the crowd as fast as I dare. No one stops me.

  When I pass the main entrance, I breathe the cold air in relief. I take the first alley to get away from the open space and run down the deserted street. I have to get home and fast. Whenever the mayor realizes I’m gone, home will be the first place they’ll look. I can’t be there when they come looking.

  As if driven by an automatic force, I make my way through the city. I arrive at the checkpoint between the Middle and Outer Circle. It’s guarded by two peacers, and my heart hammers in my chest. I pull down my hood to keep from looking suspicious and remind myself no one pays attention to people traveling this way—they care more about people getting into the higher Circles.

  The guards barely glance at me, and once I’m out of eyesight from the gate, I run home. I clutch the stitch in my side and pant heavily. But when I see the triangular building, I smile and continue to run toward the door. The door opens at my touch—I’m glad they didn’t take my handprint out of the system—and a big stack of mail slides out of the wall. I catch it absentmindedly and take the elevator up.

  I stand in front of the apartment door for a few moments. I wanted to get here so badly, but now I’m here, and I’m not ready for it.

  Mrs. Rodgers from a few doors down pokes her head into the hallway. She’s a lonely old lady whose husband died years ago. She hasn’t been rematched since—probably because of her old age. She always craves company and tries to get me to visit her whenever she can.

  “Oh hello, angel,” she squeaks, shuffling over to join me by my door. “So good to see you. Would you like to come over for a tea? I just made some.”

  “No, thank you,” I answer. “That’s very kind of you, but I’m in a hurry.” I realize it’s a strange thing to say since she’s found me staring at my apartment door with my hand hovering in midair. Quickly, I put my hand on the handle and push the door open.

  “Oh dear, what happened here?” Mrs. Rodgers gasps as she peers over my shoulder.

  They must have searched it. The living room table is turned over and lies on the floor with a leg missing. The couch has been toppled, and feathers from the pillows are everywhere.

  “Should I call the authorities, dear?”

  Eager to get rid of the woman, I pat her on the shoulder. “No, that’s quite all right. We are—um—redecorating. Go home, Mrs. Rodgers. I’ll pop in for some tea later.”

  With a lot of glances over her shoulder back at me, the old lady makes her way back to her apartment and vanishes inside.

  I walk into my home and close the door. I can’t breathe. I stumble through the hall toward the living room.

  Wh
at happened here? Where’s my family? Have they been captured?

  I slump against the wall and slide down to the floor. Unable to control myself any longer, I start sobbing. It’s as if the tension from the last week washes its way out. I’ve been through hell, and it’s a miracle I made it back home. But now it’s trashed, and I’m no closer to finding my friends. Drowning in self-pity and tears, I sit in the small hallway, unable to get up.

  23

  Nate

  Zeke fighting with me changes the odds. Even if it’s only the difference between a sure fail and a chance. A few times, Zeke and I are able to coordinate our attacks. We intervene and push each other’s opponents to get them out of rhythm. Technically it’s not fair, but it works.

  Ultimately, we pin both of our opponents to the ground. They have no chance of getting back up. They yield. I have hated Derec for such a long time, I can barely wrap my head around the victory.

  “You are going to pay for this,” Derec sneers at us. He scrambles up, blood dripping from his lip. “I’m going to talk to your father about this. You’ve crossed a line this time.” He storms of into the distance, Johnson at his heels. Chase and Liz are nowhere to be seen.

  I smile the whole way home.

  Liz walks into my house and finds me tending to my wounds.

  “Any problems?” I ask nervously.

  “A few minor setbacks, but she made it out. I hope she gets home all right. Are you okay? You look like you got beaten to a pulp.”

  “You should see the other guy.” My laughter makes my bruised ribs hurt. I’ve always wanted to say that.

  She bursts into laughter as well. It feels good. Like releasing the tension from our crazy adventure. She grabs the sponge from the sink and pats my wounds.

  “Where’s Zeke?” she asks.

  “Home for a shower.” I grit my teeth and wince at the touch of the cold water. She apologizes but doesn’t stop.

  This is the second time Derec has left me in this state in a little over a week. But this time I won. Deep satisfaction makes me smile.

  “You should also consider a shower,” Liz jokes.

  I nod. “Yeah, I know, I—”

  A knock at the door makes us jump. I hurry downstairs, pulling a shirt over my bruised body. Susan is pounding frantically.

  “They know,” she says as soon as I open the door. She pushes past me. “They’re on their way to her house at this very moment. I couldn’t hold them off any longer.”

  “What! So soon?” Liz asks.

  “Your father is an impatient man. He decided to wake her up by force. There was nothing I could do.” She looks at me as if expecting an argument. “He was angry, shouting his head off. Kicked everyone out of the labs and called for the guards. It was pure chaos.”

  Without a second thought, I grab my peacer jacket. I chuckle silently when I realize Chase has already invaded my vocabulary.

  “I have to warn her,” I state simply.

  “You can’t just go there,” Liz objects. “They’ll catch you.”

  “There’s no choice. We let her go alone. It’s our fault if they catch her. And this time, they’ll kill her. We can’t let that happen.”

  Liz nods reluctantly and presses me into a tight hug. “Give me ten seconds, okay?”

  I grunt in annoyance but nod. She runs off toward her bag and rummages inside for what feels like a lot longer than ten seconds. When she returns, she presses a small box into my chest.

  “Take this. In case something happens. I’ll figure out a way to contact you without them knowing. Go. Be safe.” She hugs me tight.

  Susan looks at me, unsure. In the heat of the moment, I hug her and whisper, “Thank you,” in her ear.

  “Be careful, you two,” I say on my way out. I stop, one hand on the door. “Can you explain it to Zeke?”

  Liz nods and pushes me outside. “Go through the hospital. Follow the signs to the elevator. First floor and out of the main hall. If any of the doors are locked, use my code: 66598. Got that?”

  “66598,” I repeat.

  With one last kiss on her head, I turn and sprint away. Bushes and flower beds fly past. When I can’t hold my pace anymore, I fall into a steady trot. The hospital looms ahead. I speed up, almost colliding with the metal door. Johnson and Derec aren’t back yet, and there aren’t any replacements.

  Or are they already on their way to Chase’s home?

  I rattle the door, but it doesn’t open. I press 66598 into the keypad, and it works. The corridor is empty, and I run down the hall. I remember the cameras, but I don’t care. Too impatient to wait for the elevator, I sprint down the stairs. I nearly run headlong into a doctor on the first floor. I apologize without slowing down, hurrying toward the waiting rooms.

  I slow my pace and take a few deep breaths before pushing through. I’m surprised how different this part of the hospital is from the rest. It’s clean and sterile, but everything seems run-down, less perfect. I hear coughing. Sick and wounded people are everywhere. I hold my breath and walk slowly through the room.

  The sun outside warms me. I’m sweating despite the cold winter weather. I cross the large open space, where I’m shocked at how many more people are waiting to get into the hospital. A drone hums by, and I fight the urge to hide from it. I look around at the streets leading away from the plaza. I don’t know where to go.

  I get out my phone and call Liz. Before she can answer, someone pats me on the shoulder. My heart stops.

  Have they caught up with me already?

  Everything slows as I turn to see who touched me. Zeke’s broad smile looks back at me.

  “Fuck, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” I shove him a little. “I thought you were a fucking guard. What are you doing here?”

  “Rescuing your stupid ass.” He points at his phone, which displays a map. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Where did you get this?” I ask as we run down an uncrowded street.

  “Your sister realized you had a flaw in your plan. She sent me after you. Good thing I’m faster than you, eh?” He grins again.

  When we reach the gate to the Outer Circle, two guards are looking at their tablets and the face of each person before letting them through. Shit. They must be checking against a wanted notification. I look at Zeke, and together we head to the front.

  “Oi, you!” the shorter of the guards calls out. “Get back in line.”

  I’m not ready to pick another fight, so I holler, “I’m Jonathan Ashcroft. My father sent me. Urgent business.”

  The look on the guard’s face changes completely. Curiosity mixes with fear. He yelled at the mayor’s son. Disrespecting me is not an option. He apologizes and waves us through.

  “Looks like your name holds some power,” Zeke says.

  “More like my father’s. Good thing his opinion of me isn’t something he shares.”

  As soon as we turn the next corner, we sprint along the street and down an alley. Zeke frequently looks down at his phone, checking the map. We finally reach an arrow-shaped building that looks like it was pushed up from the surrounding streets. Its front door is open.

  Did a resident forget to close it properly, or is PCR here already?

  We step inside, and I gasp. The building looks nice enough from the outside. In here, everything seems broken.

  The elevator has no call button. We look around in confusion. Zeke finds the stairwell as the elevator opens—there must be a sensor to call it. The doors close behind us with an ominous screech.

  I’m glad we didn’t have to take the stairs. The mere idea of walking up twenty-three stories makes my legs hurt. But this elevator seems anything but safe. It moves painfully slow. Grinding and clunking sounds accompany us up the shaft. I’m relieved to get out even though the hallway is dark and gloomy. A few lights flicker on and off. It reminds me of old horror movies.

  Zeke knocks on the door of an apartment numbered 2311. A muffled sound comes from the other side. The door remains shut. Zeke knocks
again. No reaction.

  An elderly lady pops her head out of her apartment. She looks at us curiously. When she sees our jackets, she pulls her head back. Her door shuts with a loud thud.

  With both fists, I pound against the door. “Chase, are you in there?” I yell.

  When no answer comes, I fumble with the door handle. The door doesn’t budge, no matter how much I push against it.

  Zeke glances at me, then counts down from three. On one, we kick in the door together. It falls off its hinges and nearly crushes a sobbing figure on the ground.

  “I’ve always wanted to do that,” Zeke says with a satisfied smirk. He spots Chase, and the grin slides off his face.

  Everything comes to a stop. Zeke and I are rooted to the spot. Chase looks up at us with puffy eyes. She looks so helpless.

  I force myself out of my paralyzed state. I kneel down next to her. “Are you okay?”

  She shakes her head, and I follow her gaze. The apartment is torn to pieces. There’s clearly no one here.

  “What—What are you doing here?” she asks.

  “They know you’ve escaped. They’re on their way here. They could be here any second now.”

  Zeke holds out a hand to help her up and asks, “Anything you need to grab before we leave?”

  Chase runs into the living room. She vanishes around a corner. Seconds later, she emerges with some clothes and a stuffed elephant. She grabs a bag from a hook by the door and stuffs them inside.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  She nods.

  We hurry back down the hall to the elevator. The small display above the door is counting down. Shit. Someone must have called for it.

  I point at the dial, and Zeke sprints past toward the stairwell. Nearly tripping over each other, we start down the stairs. Twenty-three floors leaves my legs screaming. I’m glad we didn’t have to take them up. Chase looks close to collapsing.

  “Where to?” Zeke pants.

 

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