acted like he was on vacation.
“Now what?” he asked.
Thinking fast, I nodded toward the exit, at least thirty yards away. The security tech coming from the door caused bright flashes to cloud my vision.
“Where does that go?” he asked.
“Out.”
“I love you,” he said, and my heart stopped. He peered toward the exit, his eyes still dancing with life.
A joke. Not a funny one.
Before I could respond, Jag chuckled. “This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
“Fun? This is not fun.”
Another low laugh. It reminded me of his shrug and how he said “Nice.” All three were growing on me.
He cut the sound short when the elevator beeped.
As one, we stood and darted silently between operating tables and surgical carts. He had some serious sneaking skills. After we were safely hidden in the shadows beside a large bookcase, I took a deep breath, every cell in my body on fire. Three doctors entered the room, carrying electro-boards andtalking softly to each other. As they moved closer, I slipped behind the bookcase. Jag followed, effectively sandwiching me between his body and the wall as well as blocking my view of the lab.
We waited for several minutes, each one notching up my nervous factor. “What are they doing?” I finally whispered.
“Sitting.”
“How far away?”
“Maybe fifty feet.”
“We can’t wait, Jag. They were going to come get you in a couple hours.”
He turned, his hands encircling my waist in the cramped quarters. I stiffened as his breath washed over my face. “How do you know?” His murmur sounded strange—smooth and rolling, with a slight pleading tone. The truth floated to my lips. I swallowed hard against the word-vomit.
“I . . . uh . . . I heard some guards talking after you went to sleep.” When he didn’t respond, I said, “We’ve really got to get out of here.”
“Let’s go then, but that door’s gonna wail.” He stepped to the door and pushed it open. An ear-splitting alarm rang, but I still heard the mental command to
Stop!
loud and clear, and I wasn’t strong enough to fight the brainwashing. Both Jag and I turned back to the lab.
The middle Greenie stood next to the lab counter, wearing a frown of disapproval. I cocked my head, almost daring him to try to control me again.
He took one step before another man stood and held up his hand. He was clearly in charge here. His skin shimmered with an odd, pearly quality. I couldn’t see his eyes because of the dark sunglasses he wore. His mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear the words over the siren. Instead, they echoed in my mind.
Make the right choice.
I took one step closer, recognizing the voice in my head, the voice of—
Just as I was about to think his name, it fled. My thoughts swirled. I closed my eyes, trying to retain what I knew. But no matter what I did, black spaces appeared in my memory, and when I opened my eyes, I didn’t recognize either of the two men standing in front of me.
Be good,
the voice said, filling the empty spaces.
I took another step, ready to join Them, prepared to do whatever They wanted.
Someone yanked on my arm. “Don’t listen to the bad guys,” a boy said.
I turned to look at him. His blue eyes sliced through the confusing thoughts. His bad suntanned skin screamed at me to run away.
He
was the bad guy here.
“We’re leaving now,” he told them. He pulled me out the door and into the crisp morning air. “Vi, come on.” The use of my nickname brought back the last two days with Jag. He wasn’t the bad guy here. I inhaled deeply, using the cold air to help lift the fogginess still lingering from the extreme control. My mind still felt sluggish, but at least I could think my own thoughts again.
I exited to muddy ground, my blood surging with an angry fire. My sneakers absorbed a lot of water and gunk, making my feet heavy. I slogged through a swampy area to the street, which was deserted. The sky lay silent and silver, but it brought no relief to
“Now what?” he asked.
Thinking fast, I nodded toward the exit, at least thirty yards away. The security tech coming from the door caused bright flashes to cloud my vision.
“Where does that go?” he asked.
“Out.”
“I love you,” he said, and my heart stopped. He peered toward the exit, his eyes still dancing with life.
A joke. Not a funny one.
Before I could respond, Jag chuckled. “This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
“Fun? This is not fun.”
Another low laugh. It reminded me of his shrug and how he said “Nice.” All three were growing on me.
He cut the sound short when the elevator beeped.
As one, we stood and darted silently between operating tables and surgical carts. He had some serious sneaking skills. After we were safely hidden in the shadows beside a large bookcase, I took a deep breath, every cell in my body on fire. Three doctors entered the room, carrying electro-boards andtalking softly to each other. As they moved closer, I slipped behind the bookcase. Jag followed, effectively sandwiching me between his body and the wall as well as blocking my view of the lab.
We waited for several minutes, each one notching up my nervous factor. “What are they doing?” I finally whispered.
“Sitting.”
“How far away?”
“Maybe fifty feet.”
“We can’t wait, Jag. They were going to come get you in a couple hours.”
He turned, his hands encircling my waist in the cramped quarters. I stiffened as his breath washed over my face. “How do you know?” His murmur sounded strange—smooth and rolling, with a slight pleading tone. The truth floated to my lips. I swallowed hard against the word-vomit.
“I . . . uh . . . I heard some guards talking after you went to sleep.” When he didn’t respond, I said, “We’ve really got to get out of here.”
“Let’s go then, but that door’s gonna wail.” He stepped to the door and pushed it open. An ear-splitting alarm rang, but I still heard the mental command to
Stop!
loud and clear, and I wasn’t strong enough to fight the brainwashing. Both Jag and I turned back to the lab.
The middle Greenie stood next to the lab counter, wearing a frown of disapproval. I cocked my head, almost daring him to try to control me again.
He took one step before another man stood and held up his hand. He was clearly in charge here. His skin shimmered with an odd, pearly quality. I couldn’t see his eyes because of the dark sunglasses he wore. His mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear the words over the siren. Instead, they echoed in my mind.
Make the right choice.
I took one step closer, recognizing the voice in my head, the voice of—
Just as I was about to think his name, it fled. My thoughts swirled. I closed my eyes, trying to retain what I knew. But no matter what I did, black spaces appeared in my memory, and when I opened my eyes, I didn’t recognize either of the two men standing in front of me.
Be good,
the voice said, filling the empty spaces.
I took another step, ready to join Them, prepared to do whatever They wanted.
Someone yanked on my arm. “Don’t listen to the bad guys,” a boy said.
I turned to look at him. His blue eyes sliced through the confusing thoughts. His bad suntanned skin screamed at me to run away.
He
was the bad guy here.
“We’re leaving now,” he told them. He pulled me out the door and into the crisp morning air. “Vi, come on.” The use of my nickname brought back the last two days with Jag. He wasn’t the bad guy here. I inhaled deeply, using the cold air to help lift the fogginess still lingering from the extreme control. My mind still felt sluggish, but at least I could think my own thoughts again.
I exited to muddy ground, my blood surging with an angry fire. My sneakers absorbed a lot of water and gunk, making my feet heavy. I slogged through a swampy area to the street, which was deserted. The sky lay silent and silver, but it brought no relief to
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