Six armed agents in dark combat gear stormed into the room. Two wrenched me away from Myles. I flailed, but their vise-like grip numbed my arms and bruised my biceps.
A hot breath beat into my ear. “The more you fight, the worse it will be.”
“You think I’m going to make it easy for you?” I yelled, slamming my head backward into the agent’s nose. Pain shot through my head, turning my vision crimson.
The agent grunted but seemed otherwise unfazed by my attack. He whispered into my ear again. “Feisty little thing, aren’t you? I like a challenge.”
My skin crawled like I’d been infested with fleas. I continued to fight as one agent repeatedly kicked Myles in the stomach.
“No!” I screamed. Another agent punched Myles in the face until his nose bled.
A third agent joined the two holding me down. He grabbed me by the throat, thrusting me against the wall of the cell. I coughed and gasped as his grip tightened around my neck. My throat burned. The two agents digging their fingers into my arms held me against the concrete. My flailing legs slowed until they tingled and I could no longer move them. They dangled, lifeless.
A low moan escaped Myles’ lips. Two agents grabbed him under his arms and dragged him from the room, his knees scraping across the concrete.
As I struggled for air, I tried to cry out. All I could muster was a dull whine. My vision tunneled and grayed. My breaths became short gasps. The man’s horrible, hot breath was on my cheek again. “Let this be a lesson to you.”
My sight narrowed to pinpricks of white light. The three agents simultaneously released their hold. I crashed to the floor, gulping air and coughing violently. The three men exited the room, slamming the door shut with an echoing clang.
I lay on the ground in a crumpled heap. Every bone and muscle in my body felt like it’d been put through a meat grinder. Frustration and isolation flooded me with a strange mixture of fire and ice.
Despite my throbbing muscles, I pushed off the floor. My skin peeled away from the concrete, leaving hay and gravel stuck to the side of my face. I brushed the dirt from my cheek and huddled in the corner, alone.
My bottom lip quivered as the horrific things they might do to Myles and my parents surfaced. All because of me. I didn’t care what they did to me. I deserved it, all of it. Everything I’d done, every decision I’d made, had hurt people—good, honest people who wanted their freedom back. And worst of all, there was nothing I could do to help from inside my cell. Maybe it was better that way. In here, I couldn’t do anything that would get someone else killed.
I pulled my knees into my chest and tried to push the awful thoughts from my mind. With nothing to do in such a dark place, the nightmares soon overcame me. I’d lost the resolve to fight. I was broken. Even with the right glue, I knew the lines from the break would never disappear. Those scars would remain visible for the rest of my life.
I wanted so badly to give into the pain, but I refused to give them the satisfaction. I couldn’t bring myself to access my tracker despite all the blinking lights in the corner of my vision. It made me twitch, but not enough to act. They were watching me and there was no way I’d give them a shred of intel.
I’d grown to enjoy the quiet. The moments without lights and messages popping up to distract me, to take my attention from what was truly important. With my tracker back online, they’d ripped away my freedom all over again. That Shabbat and Havdalah with Jake at the Hive had meant everything. But the loss of it all was too much to bear. I’d tasted what my life could be like, and I wanted it back again.
I finally understood Dad’s pain—what had been ripped from us, the magnitude of the violation. It was everything I wanted to be and couldn’t have because of the technology. I sat in silence, staring ahead. Letting my vision blur, I lost track of time altogether.
When the door crashed open, I jumped. My heart skipped a beat, hoping they’d brought Myles back, or even another familiar face. My veins coursed with acid when an agent in full gear and a helmet stepped into the room. The agent stopped right in front of me, tilting their head as if trying to see into my soul.
I pulled farther into the corner, wishing I could melt into it and never come out. I mentally prepared myself for another attack. Maybe against one agent I had a chance. I pushed into a crouching position, ready to launch when the agent got close.
The agent reached up. I flinched, unsure what came next. The gloved hands yanked off the helmet, allowing dark, brown waves to spill out.
“You look like shit!”
Instantly, my muscles uncoiled. I tried to laugh, but it came out as a half-choke, half-cough. I’d never been so happy to hear Peyton’s sarcasm, even if it was at my expense.
“Give me your arm.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
I shoved my arm out, and she pulled a needle from her vest pocket. She yanked off the cap with her teeth and thrust the needle into my skin. My tracker functions faded away, taking the invisible chains with it.
“Ready to get out of this hellhole?”
Mouth dry, I nodded. Despite my aching body, I jumped to my feet. Instantly, I regretted it. Every part of me cried out in agony. My stiff joints responded slowly and popped painfully as I moved toward the door.
Peyton shoved me against the wall before I could peek around the doorframe. “We take it slow. Stay behind me. I’ll lead you out.” She checked the hall. “Can you run?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but a cough escaped instead.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
Despite every muscle in my body screaming, I wanted out of here more than anything. “Just go. I’ll keep up.” I didn’t have another choice.
She dragged me into the hall by my arm. The deserted white corridor had a low ceiling. It was barely wide enough for two people to walk next to each other. Surprisingly, no alarm or warning light indicated any kind of intrusion. Not that there would be. The agents were all connected to the network. A luxury we didn’t have and one I wasn’t upset to abandon again. I hoped Peyton had a good plan for combating their technical advantage.
Around the next corner, an agent was slumped against the wall. I guessed kicking agent ass was her plan. Not the best idea. That would only work until the agents swarmed us. I swallowed hard.
We crept down the hall. She peeked around the corner. “There’s a patrol coming. They’ll never believe I’m escorting you alone,” she whispered.
“Great. Which way?”
“We can’t go back the way we came. It’s a dead end.”
“So we’re trapped?”
She pointed upward to a small vent on the wall near the ceiling. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
She shook her head. “Come on. I’ll boost you up. We don’t have much time.” Peyton waved me over and cupped her hands.
Without giving myself time to second-guess, I placed my right foot in her hands. She pushed me up to the ceiling.
I dug my aching fingers under the vent grate. “You wouldn’t happen to have a screwdriver or a wedge in your back pocket, would ya?” I whispered.
“No, just pry it open,” she said. “And hurry, they’re coming.”
I pulled with every ounce of strength I could muster. The grate pulled away from the wall, sending me toppling out of her grasp. Peyton caught the grate before it crashed to the floor. I fell past her and smacked into the floor with a groan. If I’d thought everything had hurt before, I was wrong. My head pounded. My knees twitched. I’d lost control over my muscles.
“Get up,” she said through clenched teeth.
I pushed up on my hands, but my arms gave way. “I’m trying.”
“Stop trying. Just do it!” She reached under my armpits and righted me.
“Here.” She cupped her hands again. “Get up there.”
The footfalls around the corner grew steadily louder.
Without hesitation, I stepped into her hands and she propelled me toward the vent. As she pushed upward, I shimmied through the hole. The metal clanged as my hands hit it. She waved me back and I slid farther into the vent, the stench of dust overwhelming. Her fingers gripped the edge of the opening, and seconds later, she was inside shoving me forward.
“Right,” she hissed from behind me.
I slowed to catch my breath, but she smacked my thigh.
“Keep moving. It won’t be long before they figure out we’re in here, if they haven’t already.”
Unable to think of a good comeback, I huffed and inched through the tight space, allowing Peyton to call directions from behind. My hands and knees burned hotter with every move forward.
After what seemed like hours, I turned another corner. Hot air blew in my face.
“There’s an opening ahead that leads to the laundry room.”
I crawled to the source of the hot air and peered through the grate. Several washers and dryers hummed. I scanned the room for people. When I found none, I pushed out the grate. It fell into a laundry bin. I pulled myself through the hole and dropped into the bin next to the grate. Even though the towels stank of sweat, I let their soft cushion soothe my aching muscles. Peyton plopped down beside me. She reached for the edge of the bin, but approaching footfalls made her pause.
“Shh,” she hissed into my ear as she threw a pile of towels on top of us.
A door creaked open. I held my breath. Peyton squeezed my arm in the darkness. My heart hammered in my chest. I said a silent prayer, hoping whoever it was wasn’t coming for our bin of towels. If they noticed the missing grate, we’d be screwed.
The sound of dryer doors popping open made me tense. Moments later, there was a slam, followed by a second and a third. Squeaking noises filled the room. The towels above us rustled. An arm appeared between us. I froze.
Hurried footsteps approached. A female voice said, “Can I help you, gentlemen?”
The arm disappeared from the bin.
“You haven’t seen anyone poking around the laundry room, have you?” asked a male voice.
“Besides you two?” asked the female.
There was a long pause in which I thought the sound of my pounding heart would give away our location.
“Let us know if you see anyone.”
“Of course. I don’t need anyone poking around my laundry room and messing things up. I have a job to do. Now out with you.”
Scuffling feet faded into silence, followed by the same creak of the door. I let out a long breath in relief. Peyton shifted the towels and peeked out.
“It’s clear,” she said.
I stood in the bin, and she helped me out. Moving to the farthest dryer, she shoved it aside, revealing a small hole in the wall where the dryer vented to the outside.
She waved me over. “Time to leave this hellhole.”
I couldn’t have agreed more. But as I stepped toward our escape route, thoughts of Myles and my parents swarmed me. Halfway across the room, I stopped, unable to continue. I couldn’t leave them. Not after everything we’d been through.
“Kaya, now! They could come back any minute.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” Peyton propped her hand on her hip as if she were about to start tapping her foot at any moment.
“My parents, your dad.” I choked. I couldn’t go on. I lacked the words to say I was tired of leaving people behind.
“Now is not the time for heroics.”
I stood my ground, refusing to move until she caved. “I can’t lose anyone else.” Her expression softened slightly, as if something I’d said had hit her deep down.
“I’m under strict orders to bring you out alive, regardless of what happens to anyone else.”
“No, I won’t leave them.”
“You have to.”
“Why?”
“Because if we lose you, this will all be for nothing. We won’t be able to take down the tracker network.”
I froze. Was everyone in on the plan but me? They all seemed to know something I didn’t—aside from the fact that my tracker was the only one in existence to defy the system.
“They’ll understand,” she said quietly.
“They might, but if something happens to them, I won’t be able to forgive myself.”
“I’ll carry you out of here kicking and screaming if I have to.” She crossed her arms over her chest like she meant business. “If we don’t get your chip out of their hands, then there’s no hope for anyone.”
As much as I didn’t want to leave, she was right. More than right. It was time to go, parents or not. I limped toward the exit with a renewed sense of urgency.
Bending down to crawl through the opening, I inhaled my first breath of fresh air, but it smelt like burnt hair. I halted partway through the hole as my vision went white.
“Not now.” I groaned.
“What?”
“My tracker’s resetting.”
“Shit. Are you kidding me?”
“I don’t kid—” Before I could finish my sentence, she shoved me through the hole. “Hold on. I can’t see a thing.”
“We don’t have time to hold on. They’ll be on us any second. Keep moving. I’ll guide you.”
I plopped onto the ground. Wet grass brushed my cheek, and dampness seeped through the knees of the scrubs. The white slowly faded from my vision. I struggled to focus through the blur and blinking lights. Peyton hauled me to my feet and dragged me, the damp soil squishing between my toes. Ahead of us, I could make out the faint outline of trees. My breaths grew heavy. She ignored my discomfort and pulled me into a run.
“Keep going. Don’t stop until we’re deep into the woods.”
My limbs fought every step as my bare feet slipped on the wet grass. My chest burned with each inhale, but I refused to give in. The treeline seemed like a mirage growing farther and farther away. Just when it appeared we would never reach it, we crossed over the threshold. The quiet rustle of the trees welcomed us, but the swooping blades of an approaching unicopter grew louder in the distance.