by Kate Breuer
I turn to Chase. “Any idea where they might have gone? We need to get away from here. Fast.”
“Let’s try Mira’s house. Follow me.” She steps past me and starts running.
I’m relieved to find that Mira lives nearby. Every part of my body hurts. I can only imagine what Chase must feel like.
“I’ve never actually been here,” Chase admits. She runs her finger down the apartment list next to the rusty door. “Whitlock. Eleven-oh-two. Let’s go.” She taps the name with her finger, then enters through the sliding door.
There’s no elevator in this building. We somehow make it up eleven flights of stairs to Mira’s apartment. Chase hesitates, then knocks. A chaos of noises erupts inside. It takes a minute, but a middle-aged woman finally opens the door a few inches. A small chain still connects it to the frame.
“What do you want?” When she sees Chase, her eyes go wide. “Ch—Chase?”
She closes the door. The chain rattles. She opens it back up and drags Chase into a hug. Chase tenses. The woman eyes Zeke and me suspiciously but lets us in. She leads us into a large living room. No sign of anyone else. I’m sure people were talking when we knocked. I count four cups on the table.
“Gu—uys,” the woman chants in the direction of a door behind her. “You won’t believe who’s here.”
A few heavy thuds are muffled by the door. Two men and a woman barge out. All three gasp when they see Chase. The woman claps her hand over her mouth. When they spot us, their faces change to fear.
“It’s okay,” Chase assures them. “They’re with me.”
The young woman embraces Chase. They stand there for a moment, neither of them moving. Then the woman, probably Mira, pushes her away a little to look her over.
“What happened to you?”
Instead of answering, Chase looks around and stares at the red-haired man, still in the doorway. His arm is wrapped in a bandage.
“Where’s Willow?” Chase asks.
The man’s face falls. “I’m sorry, Chase. I couldn’t stop them.” Tears run down his pale, freckled face, but Chase looks worse.
I catch her before she hits the ground. I’m very aware of touching her as I carry her over to the couch. Chase’s face is ashen under the bruises. She seems conscious but unable to move. She stares at us, not saying a word.
24
Chase
For the second time today, I’m pulled out of a state of shock. Mira and Dale crouch over me, talking in worried voices. My ears are buzzing, and I can’t make out the words. I feel a hand on my shoulder shaking me.
Unable to move, I look up at Mira. Her dark eyes are filled with dread. Next to her, Dale’s face is a mask of grief. Nate stands behind them, his forehead creased with deep lines. He looks horrified. He massages his neck with his hand. His friend stands next to him, clearly overwhelmed by the situation.
My heart aches, and I feel as if all meaning has been taken from me. Willow is gone. It’s all that matters.
I’m too late. I’m too late. What have I done? It’s all my fault.
“Chase, come on.” Mira’s muffled voice makes it through the static in my ears. I blink a few times and shake my head.
“She’s coming around. Dale, help her up.”
At her words, Tien and Dale grab me under the arms and help me sit. Nina comes out of the kitchen with a steaming mug in her hand.
“Drink this,” she says as she holds it out to me. “It’ll make you feel better, dear.”
Without a word, I grab the cup and take a small sip. It burns my throat and makes me cough.
“What is this?” I ask.
“Tea. It’ll make you feel better.”
I doubt the tea will help but drink anyway. Nina was right. The hot liquid warms me up from the inside, and slowly I regain control over my body.
“Tell me what happened,” I say and look at Dale, who shuffles from one foot to the other. He looks uneasy.
“When we saw the guards, we tried to get to you, but it was too late. We watched them carry you out. We didn’t know if you were alive. You didn’t look like it.” His eyes meet mine, and I see the pain in them. “We ran for it and made it out of the hospital and back home. Nina and Willow were playing together—”
His voice cracks, and Tien takes over. “We knew it wouldn’t be long until they showed up. So we grabbed the essentials and left. Willow was crying because she forgot her elephant. Nina went back inside with her while we waited for them by the elevators—”
“The doors opened, and a few peacers ran out,” Dale continues. “We turned and ran for the emergency exit. Nina and Willow were close behind us. The peacers grabbed both of them. I hit the first one I could reach, the one holding Nina. He let go of her but threw me to the ground. That’s when this happened.” He nods at his arm. “I scratched it across an exposed nail when I fell—it’s deep, but healing. When I got back up, they had Willow and were running for the elevators. There was nothing we could do.”
“There really wasn’t,” Tien adds.
“I’m sorry, Chase.” Dale’s face is strained with pain and remorse.
“It’s not your fault,” I say. But my voice sounds foreign, unlike my own. It is not his fault.
I blame him anyway.
“I’m surprised they didn’t search this place yet,” Nate points out.
Nina looks up at him, a hint of suspicion in her voice. “Oh, they did. I actually called them. It was Tien’s brilliant idea. They hid a few alleys away, when I called the peacers that Mira was missing. They came by and checked everything out. I played the worried mother, and they were stupid enough to believe me. They haven’t been back since.”
Nate’s friend looks down at his watch. “We should go. It’s been too long. They’ll be sure to check and monitor the houses of anyone you might know now that you’ve escaped, Chase.”
“But what about Willow?” Dale and I say simultaneously.
I can’t leave without my daughter.
“Nothing we can do for her right now. We’ll find a way to get her back. But for now, we need to get out of here. We’re no good to her if we are caught or killed.”
I know he’s right, but every fiber of my being wants to object. I need to get to my daughter. I need to find her. Where is she? Are they holding her at the labs, too? That she might have been close to me this whole time makes me sick.
Suddenly, the door springs open with a thundering crash. Two peacers are framed in the doorway. They look at Nate and his friend in surprise before storming toward us, followed by a few more from the hallway. One of them grabs me, and I kick and scream. I see a blur of images.
Nina backs into a wall, holding her hands up.
Nate punches one of the other peacers.
Behind him, Mira is lying on the table, kicking vigorously at her attacker, fighting him off. Her high heels hit him between the legs, and he falls over.
A fourth peacer is holding Dale by his injured arm, and Dale screams in agony. Nate’s friend is trying to attack the guard without hurting Dale more.
For a moment I forget about my own struggle as I watch the others fight. I can’t see Tien, but the moans and thuds from behind me tell me he’s dueling a fifth guard.
The guard Nate’s fighting stumbles backwards toward me. I put my legs up, forcing the guard holding me to support my weight, and kick him square in the back. He tumbles into Nate’s arms. Nate throws another punch at the guy.
The guard holding me regains his balance and holds me tighter. I struggle and writhe until one of his hands slips. Without pause, I sink my teeth into the man’s hand. Blood fills my mouth, and I spit it out. The man lets go and holds his bleeding hand.
I turn and see Tien on the ground. Without hesitation, I jump on the peacer hovering over him, which makes him collapse onto Tien. Tien moans as the wind gets knocked out of him.
Everything after seems to happen at once.
Tien grabs a knife from the guard’s belt and sinks it into the man�
�s side. Tien pushes him off, which makes me fall to the ground as well. I stumble to my feet, Tien right next to me. With a loud yell, we run for the guard holding Mira down on the table. Tien throws him to the side and holds out the knife, keeping the man at bay. Nate’s friend kicks him in the side of the head, and the peacer collapses. Nate knocks out his attacker with a hit to the jaw and runs to Dale, who has started to turn blue from being held in a headlock. Nate looks at Tien, who tosses him the knife.
I dread what Nate will do. I’m sure—or at least have convinced myself—the other men are only knocked out and will be fine. I don’t think I can live with killing anyone.
“Wait!” I’m surprised to hear my own voice coming out strong and determined. “Don’t kill him.”
Nate looks at me in disbelief.
“It’s not his fault,” I add.
He grunts in annoyance and throws the man into the bedroom. He and his friend grab the other peacers and throw them in, too. Nate grabs the handcuffs from their belts and cuffs them all together, linking wrists and ankles to trip them up. His friend pockets their keys.
“Let’s go!” Dale is already at the door.
Tien hands me my backpack, and I hover as everyone picks up bags, jackets, and coats. Within seconds, we are ready to leave. Nate’s friend, Tien, and Dale rush through the door. I turn but realize something is wrong. Mira isn’t following us.
“Mom, we need to go,” Mira pleads. “Mom . . .”
“I can’t, honey. You go.” Nina is sitting on the saggy couch, her arms folded. “I belong here. I can’t leave. This is my home, where my life happened. It’s where your father lived. Go ahead, please. Be safe.” She looks peaceful but determined.
Mira’s eyes fill with tears. I turn to Nate, who looks as helpless as I feel.
“Mom . . . no,” Mira begs. “Please don’t.”
“I am old, and I am ill. I would slow you down. You go. This is where I belong.”
Nate points at the bedroom door. “What about them?”
“Oh, don’t worry about them.” Nina glances at the door. “I’m sure more will come. They’ll be happy to rescue their friends and take them off my hands.”
“Th—they’ll k—kill you,” Mira stammers through tears.
Nina shakes her head. “If they do, so be it. I’ll be with your father. I love you, my beautiful, strong Mira. Now go. Help your friends. Get Willow back.”
Mira runs over and pulls her mother into a hug. Nina then pushes her toward the door with a loud, “Go!”
Nate helps me guide Mira along the corridor toward the stairs. The others greet us with questioning looks, and Nate’s friend asks, “What took you so long?”
Mira is still looking back at her mother, but we pull her into the stairwell. Our thundering steps echo loudly in the otherwise silent space. I’m clutching Mira with one hand, the railing with the other, sprinting down the stairs as fast as I can.
A door bursts open. I hear the same from above. Peacers are pouring into the stairwell from both directions. We are trapped.
“Nate!” I yell, but he has already seen them.
“Zeke, any ideas?” Nate pants at his friend. A tiny part of my brain appreciates the ability to put a name to the face.
“Can we make it back up to the sixth floor before they get there?” Dale answers instead.
“Let’s find out!” Zeke starts running. I have no idea what Dale has planned but have no breath to waste.
The guards above reach the eighth floor when we reach the fifth. I don’t know if we can make it. I look down. The guards are almost to the fourth floor, and the ones above have to be closer now. We need to hurry.
Dale crashes through the door into the sixth-floor hallway.
“Where are we going?” Tien gasps, clutching his side.
Dale waves us over to a window at the end and points outside. I slide to a halt next to him and understand. The neighboring roof is just underneath the window on this level!
Zeke throws open the window and climbs onto the sill. Without looking back, he jumps and vanishes from sight. Tien follows. Dale looks down for a moment before jumping.
“I’ll go next,” I say, but Mira steps forward with a determined expression.
“If I don’t go now, I’ll lose my nerve. I hate heights.” She shudders and climbs onto the sill. She stares down into the gap, takes a deep breath, and plunges out of sight.
Nate holds out a hand to help me. He lowers it immediately—like he’s afraid to touch me. I grab his hand and squeeze it tight to assure him. He holds it back up, and I use it to get onto the sill.
I clutch the frame when I see the distant ground between the two buildings. I brace myself and jump out of the window across the short gap. The wind blows my hair into my face, and I fall to my knees. I swipe the tangled mess out of my face and spit out a few hairs. I have barely straightened up when Nate lands next to me in a graceful roll. I look back and see he managed to pull the window closed.
“Let’s go,” he says.
Buildings fly by on both sides, and the wind keeps blowing hair into my face. Without slowing down, I reach back and tie it into a loose knot.
Nate runs past me and catches up with Zeke. I can’t hear what they say through the rushing of the wind. But Zeke turns and runs down the roof to the next building. Dale, Mira, and Tien immediately follow.
Nate slows and waits for me to catch up. He looks way too comfortable on a roof. My feet slip from tile to tile, and I have to balance myself with my arms. He reaches out to steady me.
I see Zeke disappear into a gap between buildings. I gasp. But Tien follows. Oh. There must be a safe landing spot.
When I catch up, it’s only Nate and me on the roof. The others stand on a balcony on the other side of the alley. I refuse to look down and jump. Strong arms catch me, and I lean into Zeke to pull myself up. Nate lands next to me, not even swaying when he lands.
Zeke uses a flower pot to break the glass door. We run through the living room, and I’m briefly aware of a young boy in the kitchen staring at us. Before I can make out anything else, we burst out of the apartment and into the hallway. The walls are a sickening shade of pink. We run toward a green neon exit sign on the other end. It’s dark in the corridor, and the lack of sight slows us down. I look around at every step.
Did the men follow us onto the roofs? Did they double back down the stairs? Do they have more men waiting for us outside the building? Did the family inside alert them we are here?
The sun blinds me, and I rely on instinct to follow the others. When my eyes adjust, I see we are in the outermost region of the city. The buildings around us are shabby and run-down. The streets look like no one has done any repairs in years. The city’s final wall looms, insurmountable, a couple houses to my left.
“What now?” I ask no one in particular.
“Follow us,” Dale encourages me. “We are nearly there.”
We slow with every step. Exhaustion is setting in—even Nate and Zeke, who are clearly the fittest, look drained.
Tien stops abruptly, which makes Dale walk into him. He nods to a tiny house set against the outer wall. “This is it.”
We are standing outside a shabby little building—barely more than a hut—with an overgrown front yard. Dale opens the rusty gate and leads us to the door. A large knocker in the shape of a squirrel sits on the door. Tien lets the heavy metal animal fall against its base.
“Who’s there?” a squeaky voice asks from inside.
25
Nate
“Auntie Anne, it’s me,” Tien calls.
Another relative? PCR will catch up with us in no time. They had days to think of a hiding place, and this is the best they could come up with?
The door creaks open, and a tiny woman looks out. Silver hair frames her lined face. She looks up at Tien—something I’m sure doesn’t happen often at his height. A grin turns her eyes into slits. She beckons us inside.
Chase looks at Dale with a raised
eyebrow.
“Explain . . . inside,” Dale pants. He is bent over, clutching his side. Not in shape enough for running.
With a shrug, Chase turns and vanishes into the house behind Tien and Mira. I exchange a glance with Zeke. He nods, and we step over the threshold.
The room inside is dark and somehow sticky. There are signs of wear and tear everywhere. Feathers stick out of pillows. Gashes in the couch. Burn holes in the carpet. It smells stale, as though no one has opened a window in years.
Chase and Mira are huddled on the couch. Dale sits in an armchair. Our host is bustling around in the adjacent kitchen. Tien hovers at her side, trying to help. I slump down in one of the armchairs, exhaustion setting in.
The place seems covered in clutter, most of it broken or damaged. Different colored teacups with intricate designs sit on every even surface—tables, shelves, stools. Most of them are accompanied by frilly little crocheted napkin things. Spiderwebs spread over the corners of the room.
Maybe Auntie Anne lives here alone. She might be too old to handle the housework. I look at the small woman. She’s only tall enough to reach Tien’s chest. What throws me off is that she doesn’t look Asian. But Tien called her Auntie . . .
Tien guides her into the room carrying a large tray of cookies and glasses. She motions Zeke out of a chair and sits down. Zeke, nonplussed, finds a dining room chair and pulls it up.
I lean over and take a cookie. My mouth dries at the stale taste, and I grab one of the glasses to wash it down. I swallow hard. I wish I hadn’t taken the cookie.
“Everyone, this is my Auntie Anne,” Tien says. “We’ll be safe here.”
He introduces the others one by one. When he reaches Zeke, he pauses. “I’m sorry. I don’t think we were actually introduced yet.” He turns to me. “And neither were we.”
Zeke laughs. “We’ve been a little distracted. He’s Nate,” he says, pointing at me. “And I’m Zeke.”
I stand up and shake both Tien’s and the woman’s hand. Zeke follows suit. A simple handshake feels wrong after what we’ve been through.
