Take Me Tomorrow

by Shannon A. Thompson

  “There’s a river right there.” I lifted my cuffed hands to point.

  Anthony’s blond hair glittered in the moonlight as he turned to look. When he saw it, his eyebrows rose. “Go first, then,” he dared.

  I shook my handcuffs. It was a deep river, and I was clumsy without my hands to balance me. Even though I memorized the creek like the forest, the creek changed. Stones were constantly moving. Trash could cut me easily, and it would be hard to get up if I fell.

  “Follow me,” Pierson muttered as he walked forward. He leapt onto the exposed stones, and water grazed the toe of his boot. When he looked back, his face hardened.

  The river was rushing past us at the same speed that it was during the Homecoming Party. Noah had tossed me in, and I had almost drowned. I gulped.

  “Can I take my cuffs off?” I squeaked at Anthony.

  He shook his head. “You can make it.”

  I bent my knee, ready to kick him in the groin, but Pierson cleared his throat. “Swallowed a bug,” he dismissed once he gained our attention.

  Whether he had done it to warn me or not wasn’t my concern. Neither was Anthony. I was too close to home.

  I sucked in a breath before I jumped to the first stone – round and shiny, but ridged. My feet landed on it, and my body swayed. The momentum carried me into my next leap. Louder than the rushing water, Anthony laughed at the torturous show. I drowned him out as I hopped from one stone to a log, nearing the two-foot embankment on the other side. Getting above the dirt wall would be impossible.

  “I got you,” Pierson muttered as he grazed past me. He hurdled over the embankment before leaning down to grab my upper arms. Once his fingers dug into my biceps, he lifted me like he spent his days picking up one hundred pounds. “You good?” he asked, steadying us on the bank of the river.

  My breath was heavy with adrenaline. I couldn’t speak. My body was exhausted from running, questioning, and Anthony’s gun escapade, but I had to concentrate. As foggy as my mind was, it still focused on Anthony as he crossed the river. I only had a moment to look at Pierson in private.

  He had cerulean-colored eyes, bright and alert, and auburn hair cleanly cut against his ears. A thin, pink scar stretched from his scalp to his right eyebrow, but I hadn’t seen it before. He may have even been younger than me. Phelps used minors for his dirty work just like Noah’s father did.

  Anthony’s foot squished against the mud as he hopped onto the embankment. “This way,” he ordered as he pulled his foot out of the wet ground. He walked off of the trails and into the trees.

  Pierson dragged me after him. Twigs cracked, and branches smacked against my exposed arms. I winced as leaves skimmed my face and bugs crawled up my legs. My ankle throbbed. We were immersed in trees, but Anthony walked as if he knew exactly where to go. That’s when I saw it – large T’s carved into the trees we passed. They were too deep to be deer sharpening their antlers or other animals looking for food. Humans made them.

  When we burst through an opening, Anthony flailed his arms about. I stumbled as Pierson yanked me backward. His calloused fingers moved across my wrists, and then, my handcuffs clicked. I was free.

  I pulled my hands forward and rubbed the raw skin. “Thank you,” I muttered, trying to ignore the blood that stained the lines in my palm. Noah.

  “As promised,” Anthony spoke up, but he wasn’t looking at Pierson or me. He was facing a thick brush of darkness. The trees moved, and a boy pushed out of the branches, the thorns digging into his brown curls.

  I rushed past Anthony, but no one tried to grab me. “Miles,” I squeaked, latching onto his coat as tightly as I could.

  Miles’ arm tightened around my shoulders, but he didn’t speak.

  “Let’s go,” Anthony instructed Pierson.

  I peered back, watching as the boys turned to leave. Anthony had what he needed – information − and he didn’t need me after that. At least he had kept his word. I was free.

  The trees shuffled around for what seemed like hours before I relaxed at the silence. I buried my nose in Miles’ shoulder, and my eyes burned beneath my eyelids.

  “We thought you—” His voice cracked as he struggled to continue, “you might have been killed. Lyn’s a mess.”

  I leaned back. Miles looked years older. His dark eyes that once danced were now soft and weary, his heavy eyelashes dragging his eyelids down.

  “What about Broden?” I asked, “The others? Where are—?”

  “We’ll talk later,” Miles interrupted as he gestured to the black sweater they forced me to wear backwards. “Ditch that thing,” he said as he shook his own jacket off. “You look awful.”

  “They didn’t exactly let me shower,” I mumbled as I pulled the black sweater off. I dropped it on the ground and accepted Miles’ heavier jacket. My hands were shaking, and I stuffed them in the thick-padded pockets before Miles could see.

  He lifted his chin toward a wooded trail. “Your house is close,” he said as we started walking. We left the carved trees behind us. Miles must have made the carvings for Anthony to follow.

  “We’re in trouble,” he said it like I didn’t already know, “and we need to get back to the others now.”

  Ten minutes lasted hours as we stumbled through the rest of the darkened forest. We reached my backyard, and I sighed, feeling as if I had breathed for the first time since the initial explosion. Reflexively, I took off running. My twisted ankle didn’t complain as I rushed over the three yards to the backstairs and flew up to the wrap-around porch. The gate smacked the green wall of the house, and I tugged open the heavy, white door to get inside.

  The air-conditioning slammed into me, and my chest heaved at the sudden temperature change. Lyn was the first person I saw.

  She stood up from a couch in the living room. Her dark eyes were bloodshot, and her bottom lip was bleeding from excessive biting. “Baby girl,” she whispered, opening up her arms as she rushed over to me. Her tattooed arms wrapped around me, and the scent of Falo’s baby powder swallowed me whole. “I was praying this was why Anthony called Miles.” Her hands moved up to my face. “You’re alive.”

  “I’m okay,” I promised, but tears dripped down. “I’m safe.”

  Her thumb moved over my ash-stained cheeks. “Lily and Falo are sleeping in the other room,” she answered my unasked questions, but her lips twisted into a grimace. “Broden was caught.” I held my breath. “He was arrested. We don’t know much more than that.”

  “What about Noah?” The name tumbled out of my mouth like a foreign language. His blood was still on me.

  A series of small bangs erupted around the living room, and we jumped. When Lyn turned around, she exposed the entrance hallway. A small pile of weapons − two guns and a collection of hand-made knives – had toppled to the tile floor. The carrier had dropped them, but the boy wasn’t even looking at the mess. He was just standing there, his blond hair glowing beneath the entryway lights.

  “Sophie,” Noah spoke up, his voice low and quiet.

  I nodded, unsure what to say, and he hurried over before I could react. He bent down from his height to wrap his arms around my ribs. His tight hold made me gasp, and his chest sighed against mine.

  “Hi,” I managed to whisper against his neck.

  He dropped me only for his eyes to skim over every inch of my body. Breath escaped him when he focused on my hands. He grabbed my fingers and flipped my hand over to see my palm. The dried blood wasn’t mine. The realization crossed his face in a pale wave.

  “I’m okay, Noah,” I said as I moved away. His eyes followed my stained skin. “Are you?”

  “I’m alive,” he muttered, laying his hand on his shoulder where Lyn had already sewed him up. Noah was wearing one my father’s white t-shirts, but Lyn had cut off the sleeve where he had been shot. A large, tan bandage stretched over his bicep to his neck. It wrapped around the collarbone. “Lyn had good medicine to help.”

  “I stole it from the hospital a few weeks ago,
” Lyn informed us, exposing more of her skills.

  The patio door squealed as Miles walked in, and Noah stepped away from me. His green eyes turned into a solemn information seeker. “Any news?”

  In the light, dark bags hung from Miles’ eyes. “Tony didn’t say anything to me,” he said, his fingers running over his watch. “Pierson was there.”

  Noah’s bottom lip hung open.

  Miles nodded as if he knew no one could respond to it, but I did, “Pierson was with Anthony the whole time.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.” Noah’s head moved side to side. “He’s on our side.”

  “He still is,” I interrupted, thinking of the blue-eyed boy. “He helped me. He told me to lie to Anthony. I don’t know why, but he did,” I stuttered, “and Anthony let me go.”

  “Lie?” Noah’s brow crumbled. “About what?”

  “Anthony wants the new synthetic drug,” I told them. “Another version of tomo.”

  “What?” Noah’s voice rose. “There isn’t a new version.”

  “I know that,” I said, unable to hide my smirk.

  Noah’s crumbled brow rose before he leaned back and laughed.

  “What just happened?” Miles asked, looking from Noah to me.

  Noah was too busy laughing to answer, so I spoke up, “Anthony wanted to know what Noah was after, so I told him there was a new version,” I explained, recalling how Anthony had interrogated me. “Pierson told me to lie, so I did. Anthony believed me, and I got out.”

  Miles lit up. “I told you he was good.”

  “Did I miss something?” Lyn asked.

  “Pierson,” Miles started to giggle like his sister would, “He’s my guy. I brought him in on this years ago,” he explained. “He was studying chemistry with the military school. He’s the one who introduced us to Gigi.”

  At Gigi’s name, Miles’ eyes shot to the ground. “We don’t think she made it out.”

  I hadn’t even seen her. Not once. I had no idea how old she was or what she sounded like. But we had shared a mission, and she hadn’t made it out.

  “We don’t know that for sure,” Noah mumbled, leaning his back against the wall, only to spring forward. Breath hissed out of his teeth. His injury wasn’t painless.

  “Don’t lean on anything or pick anything up,” Lyn lectured.

  Noah’s green eyes wavered when he looked back at her. “Like that is even possible.” No one argued him. He didn’t have time to be hurt. “Looks like Pierson works for Phelps now,” he stated. “He must have been hired immediately after he exposed the drugs at the Homecoming party,” he theorized. “Amazing. Just amazing. We have an inside guy.”

  “Well, maybe he can break Broden out of jail, Mr. Tomery,” Lyn murmured, dissatisfied by the turnout of the explosion.

  “I’ll get him out,” he promised, but he was looking at me. “What about Rinley? Does Anthony have her?”

  I shook my head. “Anthony suspects she’s here, but he doesn’t think that’s what you’re really after.”

  “I don’t either,” Lyn agreed.

  Noah’s expression darkened. “It is.”

  Tension filled the living room, and I placed myself between my practical mother and the boy who had brought a war upon us. “Stop,” I interrupted their useless battle. “Anthony told me where to find her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your sister,” I clarified, but he didn’t respond. “We need to get into your old house while the officials are distracted with the Traveler’s Bureau.”

  “Why?” Miles interrupted.

  “Because her file was moved there − as a trap to find anyone in the Tomery family,” I explained what Anthony had told me. “He told me we could get inside without getting caught. But we have to hurry.”

  The entire house was a trap, but Noah already knew that. He hadn’t returned for a reason.

  “There’s no way Phelps will be watching it,” I said, “not with the building up in flames.”

  Noah shook his head. “We can’t trust Tony on that.”

  “Do we really have a choice?” Miles lingered on the truth of the matter.

  “You guys have come this far,” Lyn sided with us. Her black hair hung in her face, and she shook it as if she couldn’t quite believe it herself. “I’ll wake you up in a few hours, but you all need to get some sleep,” she ordered. “Tomorrow is going to be another rough day.”

  The Broken Pieces

  Miles drove his car around the Topeka Region. “I can get you two close,” he said, surveying the road.

  He had taken the back roads to avoid the chaos of the Traveler’s Bureau, but we snuck fleeting glances whenever the roads connected to the main street. The city was filled with sage uniforms. Most, if not all, of the police force was diligently working to figure out what had happened.

  “Where are you two going?” I asked, knowing that we had come to an agreement. No one could stay at my house. It wasn’t safe. Lyn was at the hospital with Falo, and I was going with Noah. When the twins responded, I hadn’t been expecting to hear, “Home.”

  “Our mom lied for Lyn,” Miles explained, “but she’s mad.” Ms. Beckett knew something now.

  “We’ll come up with some excuse,” Lily added. “I have volunteer work at the institute anyway.” She made the correctional home for troubled girls sound like an intellectual retreat.

  “And I might go into work,” Miles mumbled. The Traveler’s Bureau wasn’t as destroyed as the record’s building, but it was damaged. “They want to interview us anyway.”

  “Another interview?” I asked, waiting for clarification that he wouldn’t get hurt again. He just nodded in response. He didn’t know.

  No one spoke a word about Broden. We were doing this without him, and there wasn’t anything we could do about that. We couldn’t help him. We didn’t even know where he was. All we could do was move forward with the plan, hoping that Broden would be safe − and alive.

  Knowing that we were only yards away from his house was unsettling. His parents hadn’t even called me, something they did when Broden got into trouble, and I didn’t take it as a good sign. Even worse, if we were near Broden’s house, we were near Noah’s childhood home.

  “Right here,” Miles’ voice was barely audible as he parked against a curb.

  Noah, without thanking him, got out of the car. I didn’t follow him immediately. Lily was staring at me in the rearview mirror. Her brown eyes darkened against her white hair.

  I looked away and locked on Noah’s blond hair as if it were a beacon. I followed him, only hearing Miles’ car squeal away. Before I could look back, the twins were gone. We knew we might get caught. The house seemed too obvious, but we walked toward it anyway. I didn’t bother looking at the other homes. I didn’t know which one was his. They all looked the same – tan, huge, and empty.

  Noah didn’t talk, and we didn’t walk very far until we were at the end of a short, curved driveway of a light blue house. The shudders were pearl-white, and delicate, purple flowers lined every window. Sitting in the middle of the circular driveway was a small fountain, trickling water away as if the owners still lived within the walls. The grass was even cut. Noah’s abandoned childhood home didn’t look abandoned at all.

  “Please tell me someone new doesn’t live here,” I muttered.

  “No one does,” he said it matter-of-factly, but he didn’t explain how the house was clean. Someone must have been taking care of it because the flowery lawn could’ve been on the front cover of a real estate magazine. It reminded me of Phelps’ mansion.

  “How are we going to get inside?” I asked.

  “The front door,” he laughed casually, “How else?”

  With that, he bounded up the driveway, and my veins surged will panic. “What?” I squeaked. “Noah, you cannot be serious.” But he continued to walk.

  I ran after him as he jumped over the front steps as if he had done it hundreds of times. I had to remind myself that he proba
bly had.

  Standing in front of the door, he laid his palm on the blue wood. His fingers curled against the paint, and a heavy breath escaped his lips. He looked like a boy who had realized his illusion was real.

  “I don’t see why not,” he finally spoke.

  “Someone will see us,” I argued.

  Noah rolled his eyes. “If Tony set us up, they already know we’re here,” he pointed out, ignoring the fact that his neighbors could be home, ready to report us. “If he’s not, we’re fine.”

  “But your neighbors—”

  His hand dropped to his side. “You really think we lived around Phelps’ lovers?”

  I glanced around, taking in the identical houses that surrounded us in the small cul-de-sac. Of course they had been a part of Tomery’s plan. Nothing as simple as neighbors would have prevented the creation of the drug that began a war.

  Noah fiddled with the handle. The door was locked. “There are tunnels, Sophie,” he added, “a lot of tunnels with a lot of people keeping them hidden and safe.”

  Shivers ran up my spine. “Why didn’t we take those?”

  “They aren’t necessary.” He twisted the doorknob to the right until it clicked. That’s when he pulled − hard − and it shot out. A slit shaped like a circle appeared out of a wooden panel. Noah detached his silver watch, turned it over, and placed it inside.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I said.

  Noah chuckled as the panel turned. He reached over and turned the knob as if it had always been unlocked. It moved easily. He had unlocked it.

  “What else can you do with that watch?” I asked.

  “You’d be amazed what a man can do with a great watch.” Noah winked.

  Heat rushed over my face, but he hadn’t seen my blush. He had already turned toward to the door. When he pushed it open, he swung out his arm in a grand gesture. “Ladies first,” he said. He was glowing.

  For the first time, I truly felt like we were two teenagers hanging out. Not two teenagers running from the law. For that moment, I wanted to forget. I wanted to return to a normal world and pretend that Noah’s last name didn’t mean he was involved with a practical drug lord. Hell, I wanted to forget that Noah was addicted to tomo, but I couldn’t. Not one part of me could pretend.