Orfyn

 

 

I knock on the one Nobel door I didn’t paint a hometown on. I tried to find out where Stryker comes from, but his response was, “The past is not the future.” He’s as elusive as Bigfoot. I’ve asked, but nobody knows his history. Not where he lived, not which school he went to, and not what made him the perfect Candidate to become the Nobel for Peace.

I half-expect a tuxedoed butler to greet me, but it’s only Stryker. I look past him and catch a glimpse of his place. Calling it plain is generous. A nun’s room in a convent looks like a Vegas casino in comparison. Why does Stryker choose to live like this? They give us anything we ask for.

“Interested in a game of H-O-R-S-E?” I flick my eyes to the ceiling. Stryker and I aren’t friends, but when you need help with an escape plan and want to make sure you’re prepared for everything that could go wrong, he’s the guy.

“I’ll grab my ball.”

I hope the person listening doesn’t stop to think that Stryker is almost a foot taller than me, and no sane person would ever initiate the trouncing I’m about to face. We head to the basketball court. It’s covered in cracks, but at least Stryker got them to install a net. I stand underneath it as he confidently volleys perfect shot after perfect shot.

I don’t want Stryker thinking I’ve got some schmo living in my head. I repeatedly return the ball while explaining—bragging—who Bat was in his other life. Stryker is clearly impressed.

We switch positions, and I half-heartedly throw balls at the basket, telling him about what Bat has been working on. I don’t take credit; he knows I’m no computer genius. But I might have let it slip that it was my idea to insert Angus into Bat’s program.

“Incredible,” Stryker acknowledges, which is the first time he’s ever made me feel like I’m not a total waste of space. “We need to get our hands on that program.”

My chest swells with pride. None of the other Mentors created a solution that might save Marty. “Then you’ll help?”

“I’m not letting you get all the credit.” Then he smirks and flicks his chin at me.

I wasn’t going to beg, but I’d been hoping he’d offer. I don’t know the best way to approach the Darwinians, but Stryker will.

“If something should happen to Bat’s program, we’ve lost our leverage,” Stryker says. “We need to be the ones to go and get it.”

“It’s in Jersey,” I say. “Do you have a driver’s license?”

“You don’t?”

“Nobody in the City drives. Where did you say you grew up?”

“I didn’t.”

We hold each other’s eyes until I break the ice. “Okay. No hometown. Back to the plan. We need to convince the Darwinians to let us leave, and they need to lend us a car.”

“Meet me here at eleven tonight. And bring a tube of paint.” Stryker has a gleam in his eyes.

“I take it we’re not asking permission.”

 

 

It’s late, so I’m hoping everyone is busy with their Mentors. I shut my door as quietly as possible and tiptoe to Stryker’s to pick him up. When I turn the corner, Anna is leaning against her doorway, filing her black nails. I get this feeling she’s been waiting for me. Damn.

“Is there a reason you’re dressed like a ninja?” she asks.

I thought it would be good camouflage, but I look like a black hole in this bright hallway. “Borrowing fashion tips from you.” Then I notice, for the first time, she’s wearing something non-vampirish. And her eyes aren’t smeared with black make-up.

Anna crosses her arms. “Spill it. What are you up to?”

Right. Since she’s been such a great friend, I’ll confide that Stryker and I are breaking out, and I’m pretty sure we’re stealing a car to do it. “Getting something to eat.”

“I’ll join you.”

Crap. “Sure, if you want.”

We pass Stryker’s door, but I’m not quick enough to think of a stealthy way to let him know I’ll now be running late. The thorny silence between Anna and me makes it seem like the dining hall is a mile away. I get a grilled cheese sandwich I don’t want, and she grabs a chocolate milk.

“That’s all you’re having?”

“I’m not that hungry after all.”

I hold in my eye-roll as I scarf down the sandwich in less than a minute. “That hit the spot.” I get up to go. “See ya later.” I’m not too far behind schedule, and since Stryker doesn’t know where Bat lives, he can’t leave without me.

“Have you ever been to the greenhouse on the roof?” Anna asks, stopping me in my tracks.

“Once.” It sits within a Gothic arch. Tall sheets of glass between thin iron bones. It’s not easy to get to, since you have to use a rickety fire escape. But I was looking for a new wall that needed an attitude adjustment and dared the climb. When I got there, it was empty, and I didn’t end up painting on those walls. Some places are perfect the way they are. “Why?”

“Did you happen to notice that it overlooks the basketball court?” She leans in closer. “Sound can travel far in the wind.”

I sit back down and mouth, “Don’t.” I can’t let her sabotage our only chance to save Marty.

“It’s time for me to collect,” she says, like she’s had negotiation lessons from the mob—or worse, Stryker.

“I told you. I don’t own anything.”

She takes a long, slow sip of chocolate milk. “I want to watch you paint.”

“What?”

“I’ve seen Lake do it.”

Yeah, but I don’t avoid her. “Why would you want to? It’s boring.”

Her multi-pierced eyebrow meets the one that looks like a delicate black feather. “Are you telling me I can’t?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you haven’t said I could, either.”

“Anna, why do you want to spend time with me? We’re not even friends.”

She turns her head toward the wall of water lilies, and after more than a few beats she says, “You’re right. Dumb idea.”

Oh my God! I think Anna likes me. Is that why she looks so nice tonight? Double crap! I might have hurt her feelings. Now she’s going to retaliate. “I just meant—”

“I know what you meant.” She keeps not looking at me.

“Anna, you’ve been gearing up to blackmail me from the second we met.”

Her eyes look left of my nose. “I didn’t know how else to get your attention.”

That confession took a lot of guts, and I have a feeling she doesn’t let down her guard very often. “I’ll make you a deal. If you stop threatening me, we can work on becoming friends.”

“Is that all we can ever be?” Her eyes dart around the room.

This is the conversation she’s been wanting to have. It feels more surreal than my time with Bat. “I have to be honest. I like someone else.”

She scowls. “Lake thinks she’s too good for you.”

“That’s not true. And, it’s none of your business.”

Anna picks at a hangnail until it bleeds. “I can watch you paint?”

I shoot my eyes to the ceiling. “Do we have a deal?”

She makes a locking motion in front of her lips. For the first time ever, her gaze isn’t filled with challenge.

“I’ll let you know the next time I start working on something. Promise.” And I will.

I think we end on okay terms, but who knows what she’ll do after she re-spins our conversation a few dozen times.