Trapped

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Trapped Page 13

by Ella James


  Instead, West blurted, “He’s from space.”

  “HE’S FROM WHAT?”

  “He’s an alien,” West said.

  My mind worked quickly as I struggled to decide whether to hang West out to dry—but avoid triggering alarm bells for Halah, who was a very grounded sort of person when it came to the unusual—or go balls out and tell Halah the truth.

  I laughed. “No he isn’t, West.”

  Halah laughed. “West, what are you smoking?”

  “I’m not smoking anything,” he said. “I meant he’s…an illegal alien.”

  “He is?” Halah said.

  I nodded. “From Canada.”

  “What part of Canada?” she asked slowly.

  “Alberta,” I said.

  “Oh.”

  I was in the middle of what I thought was a pretty good back story for Nick—he was a foster child, and his foster father was mean, so he ran away—when Halah interrupted.

  “Where is Nick now?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure. We kind of…lost track of each other.”

  “Why did you really say he’s an alien?” she asked skeptically.

  “It was a joke,” West said.

  “You two must be smoking something. Both of you.”

  “Just a little marijuana,” West said. “It’s safer than that shit you do.”

  I yawned widely, and Halah asked, “Do you need to sleep? You look exhausted.”

  Halah showed West to the guest room and brought me to her room.

  “Are you sure you’re okay Milo?” she asked as I changed into some of her pajamas.

  I nodded. Actually, I planned to sneak into the room where West was as soon as Halah fell asleep, and slipping out as soon as we came up with a better plan. But I nodded anyway, hoping I looked sincere.

  “I’ll explain this whole thing more tomorrow, Halah. Promise. I want to catch up with you, too. It’s been too long.”

  She looked at me strangely. “Only a few days, Milo.”

  It felt like so much longer.

  I WOKE UP to Halah calling my name.

  “Milo…I’m so sorry! I talked to my mom, because I was worried about you, what with the whole alien stuff and West being such a giant druggie, and she told me someone was coming to get you who could help!”

  I heard a banging sound, and West stepped into the doorway, looking ruffled.

  “I had no idea the cops would come! You’ve got to get out of here though! I have some ‘E’ in my bathroom!”

  My head spun. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. Instead, I nodded. “It’s okay, Halah.”

  I looked at West. “You should try to get out of here. You go out the back door, I’ll go out the front.”

  “You think I’m a prick?” he asked me, rubbing his eyes.

  “I think you need to be smart,” I said. “Go now, West! Just go!”

  I don’t think he would have, but I’ll never know for sure. Two officers clomped down the hall, bursting past West into, Halah’s bedroom, as West cursed about our rights and warrants.

  “I let them in!” Halah screeched. “I’m sorry, Milo. I just—”

  The dark-haired agent, whose nametag read McIntire, cuffed me, and I noticed he wasn’t wearing a black suit: just regular police blue.

  McIntire led me down the hall behind the orange-haired cop and West, who was struggling.

  Halah was sobbing. I didn’t even shed a tear.

  I guess when you know that there’s a decent chance the world is ending—and if it doesn’t, you’re pretty sure the guy you care for more than anything will probably wind up dead—getting hauled into a cop cruiser isn’t such a big deal.

  That’s what I thought until the cruiser pulled over one street later, and we were trotted to a black SUV.

  TALL, HULKING SID was driving, with dreadlocked Ariel riding shotgun. When I saw them, I dry-heaved just a little.

  The officers, who were obviously only dressed like regular officers, shoved West and me into the SUV, and I pitched face-first onto the seat. West landed on top of me.

  Ariel swiveled in her seat to stare at me, with no explanation or immediately apparent emotion. I tried to muster a glare to match hers, but there was a shocking amount of power behind her dark brown eyes.

  West jerked his body into something close to a sitting position and spat at her. “What’s your problem, bitch?”

  Ariel smiled slightly. “I’m being rude, aren’t I? That’s…precious.” She said “precious” in the most condescending voice I’d ever heard.

  “Fuck you,” West said. “The truth is out there!”

  Ariel tilted her head sideways, like she had no idea what he mean. Naturally, she’s the only alien hunter who hasn’t seen X-Files.

  I sat up a little straighter and tried to look unafraid. “I want to see Nick,” I demanded.

  I caught the side of Sid’s smile—the first one I had ever seen from him. “‘Nick’ is safe and sound.”

  He was? “I want to see him!”

  Sid shrugged. Twice. Then he stomped the gas pedal.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Who shrugged twice?

  He and Ariel shared a long glance, then both giggled. I clamped my mouth shut, because I’d played this game with them before. Okay, not this game exactly, but obviously they were playing some kind of game. It didn’t surprise me, but it pissed me off a lot.

  “Where is Nick?” I demanded, at the same time West shouted, “This is a violation of our rights! You can’t just cart us off like enemy combatants.”

  Sid looked at Ariel and rolled his eyes. “Are you sure we need this guy?”

  The way he asked—the implied alternative—chilled me to the bone, and immediately I was leaning forward, close to tears, “I’ll cooperate with you fully, just let him go! He doesn’t know anything.”

  Ariel sighed. “We’ll let Diego decide.”

  “Decide what?” West demanded. “I haven’t done dick! No one decides anything for me but me!

  West was freaking out—his shoulders heaving, his breaths hissing—and I felt terrible for getting him into this.

  “Who the fuck are you people? You think no one will come looking for us?!”

  “West, save your energy,” I murmured as they steered us onto Highway 6. There actually was a barricade, closer to town than we’d gotten in the cab. It was made of barbed wire fencing, and it looked as if it had been there, in the middle of 6, forever. As our SUV rolled up to it, part of the fencing swung open, and West cried, “This is bullshit!”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, half-sob.

  “It’s not your fault,” he said. “It’s their fault. This shit is fucked up.” He leaned toward me, and I toward him, and we just slumped there together for a few long moments as we rolled toward the heart of Golden. My throat was all annoying and tight, like I might start crying at any moment. I got my urge under control pretty quickly after I had a memory of my dad near the end of his life. He never complained, never acted scared. I wondered if he would be proud of how I was handling my life right now. There was no way to know, but I thought he’d be more likely if I at least acted brave.

  I’d had my head buried in West’s shoulder, praying to the God I desperately hoped was still out there somewhere, overseeing all this madness and orchestrating happy ending, when the SUV jolted to a stop.

  I recognized Golden High, the city’s public school. The place was brick and glass, kind of mod-looking, with a prominent “breezeway” connecting two buildings.

  The parking lot was littered with black SUVs, white tents, and the occasional white van with blacked-out windows. My eyes swept the building as I wondered if Nick was inside somewhere, and I noticed something that made my blood run cold. Pacing in front of the door was a woman dressed in army fatigues, carrying what looked like a machine gun. I blinked, and a man walked out from under one of the white tents, dressed the same and brandishing…yeah, that was definitely a machine gun.

  Jesus.

/>   West must have noticed at the same time I did, because I heard him whisper, “We are so fucked.”

  And then, as if to illustrate the point, a few other Army-looking gun-toters burst out the school’s front door and came our way. Behind them was Ursula, her short blonde hair whipping in the breeze as she ran at us. I could see before she even reached our car that she looked angry. I knew it when she threw open Sid’s door and cried, “You caught her? Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I thought you went with the Denver team,” Sid answered, in a voice that made it clear he really hadn’t.

  “I was never supposed to go with the Denver team,” Ursula snapped. She opened the door behind Sid’s and gave West a quick glance-over. “Who’s he?”

  “We don’t know yet,” Sid said. “Tell Diego we’re taking these two to the principal’s office.”

  “What? Do it yourself. I’m accompanying the asset.”

  Ariel made a so-sorry face. “Diego wants just us,” she said, gesturing to herself and Sid.

  “What? Why? He didn’t say anything to me.”

  Ariel shrugged. “You can ask him after you tell him we’re back.”

  She opened her door and motioned for McIntire and the agent I’d dubbed Orange to remove West and me from the car. This time, McIntire grabbed West and Orange scooped me up. He threw me over his hard-muscled shoulder and the world shook as he stomped toward the school.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  He didn’t answer, but I’d figured it was worth it to try.

  I craned my head as we approached the door to try to get my bearings. We entered into a wide, carpeted hallway, lined with lockers in a burgundy color that represented the school’s mascot—a demon of all things.

  I watched as Ursula hung a quick right, moving fast. Orange took a left, and I caught a glimpse of McIntire dragging West behind us. In less than a dozen steps, we passed through a glass door, into what was clearly the school’s administrative wing.

  There was half a dozen standard cushioned chairs arranged around a coffee table; a coat hanger; throw rug with a demon printed on it. We hung a left, down another hall, and I heard West demand, “Where’s she going?” and I felt a pang of affection for him, because he sounded so worried.

  And then I was worried, because McIntire said, “You’ll get your turn soon enough.”

  What the heck did that mean?

  Orange shouldered through a door, turned a circle—giving me a quick panorama of a regular-looking administrator’s office—and sat me in a chair. He uncuffed my hands and I found myself staring at Sid. Behind me, Ariel warned, “Your arms are free, but you are not. Don’t try to escape.”

  I almost laughed. Clearly, that wasn’t in the cards.

  Seconds ticked by as I waited for Sid to say something…but he didn’t. He just stared at me, and the room was filled with the ticking of a clock that read about fifteen after eleven, and I could hear West, screaming now, probably getting himself into all kinds of trouble.

  My fault.

  I looked into Sid’s steely eyes.

  “Please let West go. He really doesn’t know anything. And he’s high! Super high. He wouldn’t remember any of this, and no one would believe him even if he did!”

  Sid shook his head mechanically. “We have no reason to let him go.”

  “I’ll cooperate with you,” I cried. “Let him go, and you won’t have any trouble from me! I swear!”

  Sid smiled, a smile so wide I saw for the first time his two very prominent canines. “Unlike your last time—” I heard Ariel giggle “—we won’t have any trouble getting from you what we need.”

  “TELL ME ABOUT your relationship with the extra-terrestrial you named ‘Nick.”

  “Tell me where my mom is,” I fired back.

  “Your mother is safe. We have no reason to harm her.”

  “Where is she?”

  “At the quarantine clinic.” He blinked. “At a hospital.”

  “What?”

  “Your mother is at Red Rocks Medical Center. It’s located at Four Hundred Indiana Street in Golden, Colorado.”

  “And she’s okay? She’s not sick or anything?”

  “Why would she be?” He tapped his forefinger on the desk, although the look on his face seemed almost dazed. Very apathetic, just like his tone of voice. “Now tell me about your relationship with Nick.”

  “Okay,” I hedged. “I will. But I want to see him first. Just to make sure he’s okay.” And see if he could get us out of here. I put on a polite smile. “Then I’ll talk. All day, if you want.”

  Sid shook his head, but he didn’t get a chance to reject my offer. Just then Diego swaggered in, dressed in all black like the others, but inexplicably wearing a neck tie over his jacket. He looked me up and down.

  “So this is the famous Milo Mitchell,” he said, spreading his arms. “The human girl who changed all our lives.” He smiled, showing attractive dimples. “Now that we’re finally meeting, I feel like it’s been a long time coming.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about. I thought about the last time I saw Diego in person; he had appeared to be frozen in time as Vera led Nick and I to safety, and out of the DoD compound. In reality, we had been in a bubble universe. But could the process have somehow scrambled his mind? The whole crew was acting oddly.

  “I want to see Nick,” I said, and his handsome face turned contemplative.

  “Nick. Of course.” He glanced at Sid, then Ariel, and shrugged. “I see no reason we can’t cut to the chase. Let’s go see ‘Nick.’” He grinned like the name was funny, and I shot him the dirtiest look I could muster.

  I knew as well as anyone that Nick’s name wasn’t Nick, but this crew seemed to get the giggles every time they said it.

  “I want to see my mom, too.”

  “Your mother… She’s in quarantine at the hospital. So that will make things difficult.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing.” His mouth tightened. “Now stand. Let’s get this done.”

  Orange appeared and grabbed me by the arms, hauling me down the short hall and out into the waiting area, where McIntire still had West’s hands cuffed.

  “Milo!” His eyes widened. “You alright?”

  I nodded. “You?”

  “Fine.” So far, at least, this experience hadn’t been too terrible. Of course, that’s the way it was at the compound, too; pretty benign during the moments when I wasn’t being asked to swallow weird pills, being poked and prodded, or being forced to watch Nick as the DoD tortured him.

  Diego nodded at West. “Bring him this way,” he told McIntire.

  We walked quickly out the doors dividing the administrative wing from the rest of the school and headed down a hallway that smelled of crayons, vacuum cleaners, and plastic. The place was deserted, except for the occasional black-clad, DoD rubbernecker, peeking at us as they hustled by, carrying paperwork or talking in low tones into cell phones.

  I kept trying to look over my shoulder to see West as we walked, but Agent Orange, who still had me by the arms, seemed bent on keeping me away from him.

  I tried to tell myself wherever we were going, whatever was happening—things would be okay. Nick and Vera were strong, and they could deal with the DoD. It was possible, I realized, that the DoD didn’t even have Nick. Maybe they were using the promise of him as bait. Of course, that wouldn’t work nearly as well as actually using him as bait.

  What if they did have him?

  The thought made me break out in a cold sweat.

  We took a left, down another hall with gray carpet and burgundy walls, one of which was decorated with a large, black Golden High Demons emblem. I clenched my teeth as we passed a dozen or more closed classroom doors. All I could think about was Nick. If they did have him, what kind of shape was he in? How had they captured him? Did they have Vera, too? I was surprised to find I actually sort of cared.

  I had a hard time believing they would be able to nab Nick agai
n. In my mind, he was invincible. I think that was part of why, despite dwelling on it nearly all the time, I had trouble imagining that he would have to leave me. He just…couldn’t. It was a possibility I wasn’t ready to accept.

  We passed a wall of lockers and I pictured myself going to school here. Walking down these hallways with a backpack full of books weighting my shoulders. Chatting with my friends and flirting with regular guys. The thought of it made me ache.

  How would I ever go back to being a high school student if Nick left? When Nick left. I bit my lip until I tasted blood and said a quick prayer that he wasn’t hurt; that maybe he wasn’t even here.

  After what seemed like forever, the hall ended at a set of burgundy double-doors. Agent Orange pushed one open, and I was the first one through. My heart beat hard as I blinked around a large gymnasium that had been segmented by makeshift office walls. On every side of them, people wearing black suits huddled together, talking; studying computer monitors; in one case, even watching a TV.

  We got a few more curious stares as Diego marched us across the gym, to yet another set of burgundy double-doors, into a short hall that smelled faintly of sweat, and then through a door marked “VISITORS.”

  I held my breath as I stepped through the doorway. It was an average locker room, done in burgundy and black, with beige tile floors; around the perimeter of the room were plastic lockers, and in the middle, several banged-up benches. I froze in place as I spotted Nick and Vera sitting side-by-side on one of them.

  Agent Orange abruptly let me go, and I flew to Nick, throwing my arms around his neck and squeezing tightly. I was so relieved to have my hands on him, it took me a second to notice he wasn’t hugging me back. I pulled away, looking into his brown eyes. They were dull and lifeless, blinking without seeing.

  I whirled to Vera. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “It’s temporary,” she said.

  “What do you mean it’s temporary? What happened to him? Who hurt him?”

  I lost my breath when I realized she wasn’t frozen and muted like Nick was. She had betrayed him. She had done something. I looked from Nick to her, engulfed by pain that started with a cracking sensation in my chest and spread outward, through my arms. I didn’t even mean to hit her. It just happened.

 

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