SAGE
The building looked like every other old brick building on a city side street.
Jack held down the button to retract the convertible hood, and the destroyed leather rolled back behind us. The sun shined bright overhead, my eyes blinking to adjust to the light.
Immediately, the Kansas wind whipped at my hair. Dry, dusty air flooded my nostrils, the scent familiar and reassuring. It suddenly hit me just how close to home I was. Only a few hours from the farm.
Jack glanced back at me. “Be good. And follow me. Can you understand what I am saying?”
I snarled at him.
“I’d take that as a yes,” Beckett said. He turned to Ollie, sitting next to him in the seat.
“Stay here. Be good.”
Ollie whimpered.
Jack grabbed his gun and jumped out over the door of the car. “Be on alert,” he said to Beck. “I’m not sure what we’re walking into here.”
Beckett grabbed a gun from the glove compartment, and we followed Jack to the building. At the entrance door, we found a white note hung by Scotch tape on the door.
Meet me in the conference room.
Jack pulled on the door, and it swung open easily. I followed Jack and Beckett into a deserted hallway.
“We’ll check the conference room first,” Jack said, voice low. “Then head to Imogen and Finn.”
Our footsteps echoed on the concrete.
The wind slammed the door closed behind us.
We moved through two hallways without seeing anyone.
“Hello!?” Beckett finally shouted.
Jack raised his gun as Beck’s voice echoed down the deserted hall.
The boys stopped at the doorway to a room which held a large conference table in the center, a projector on the table, and a screen up on the wall.
“Ah, there you are.” A voice called from inside.
Jack pressed the door back, scanning the space with his gun. No one was inside.
And then, we spotted it all at the same time—a face on the projector screen.
Dr. Adamson, in some sort of warehouse. In the space behind him, sheets covered a row of cars and motorcycles.
The three of us stepped into the room. Instinctively, Jack raised his gun at his father’s head projected on the screen.
“I really wish I could shoot you right now,” Jack said.
“Yes, well, by this point in your life, you should be used to not getting what you want,” said Dr. Adamson. He didn’t looked ruffled by seeing his boys, or me in my modwrog state.
“What have you done with Dr. Cunningham?” Jack said.
“How was the trip? I hope you were careful with the Jaguar?”
“What do you want, Dad?” Beckett said. “Haven’t you ruined enough lives? Can’t you just disappear?”
“You boys figured it out, then?” their dad said. “Just how much I was involved?”
As if on cue, the door behind us slammed and locked.
Beckett spun at the noise, but Jack didn’t flinch or take his eyes away from his father.
A face peered through the small window in the metal door.
Beckett advanced to the door and shook the handle.
“Dr. Cunningham?” Beck pounded on the metal. “Dr. Cunningham, what are you doing? Let us out of here!”
“It was all me. You see that now, don’t you, Jack?” Dr. Adamson said to the son who was still paying attention to him.
But I was too distracted by Beckett’s words. He’d said Dr. Cunningham.
My father?
I eyed the man who stared through the pane, smiling smugly.
No. It couldn’t be.
That face looked nothing like the man from my dream. Different shape, different angles, a darkness in his eyes … nothing even close to the man from my dream. That gentle man from my dream-memories could not have aged into the face I saw in front of me. Those eyes … the proud gleam in them, the way his chin jutted out in arrogance. None of it was the man in my dream.
My heart refused to believe that this was my father.
That’s not my dad.
In my head, my words were even. In the small conference room, something rumbled in my throat.
“I’m sorry, but my crew will be leaving the building rather abruptly,” Dr. Adamson said.
That’s not my dad!
I growled at the door, louder this time.
Beckett still shook at the handle, staring into the eyes of the man who could not be my father. “Dr. Cunningham! Let us out!”
“Vasterias is on their way,” said Dr. Adamson. “They’ve tracked us, which is not surprising. We must destroy the building so Vasterias doesn’t get their hands on any information we couldn’t find.”
Jack hadn’t moved. He stood statue still, taking in his father, processing the situation in ways I couldn’t comprehend.
“Everything is contained,” Dr. Adamson continued. “My last men are exiting just as soon as they ensure some final business is done. And then, a bomb will detonate.”
This announcement pulled Beckett’s attention from the man at the door. He turned and stared at the screen in disbelief.
He took four swift steps toward the projected image of his dad. “A bomb.”
Beck’s voice held equal amounts incredulity and acceptance, as if he knew his dad would do something like this, yet still didn’t want to believe it.
“We can’t have Vasterias getting their hands on any of Dr. Cunningham’s information. Just in case we missed something,” Dr. Adamson said in agitation, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world and he was annoyed to repeat it.
I felt a scream rising in my throat, but my rage at Dr. Adamson got redirected. With Beckett’s absence at the door, I could better see the face of the man through the window.
I loped toward the door and clawed at the window, pounding, kicking, squealing.
You’re not my dad! YOU ARE NOT MY FATHER!
The man’s eyes went wide, he backed away and disappeared down the hall.
Behind me, on the screen, Dr. Adamson lifted his hand up. He held his phone, and on the phone screen, a red button. He pressed down on it.
His phone flashed just long enough for me to read the 8:00 already ticking down to 7:59 on the screen.
The conference room went utterly still.
Dr. Adamson smiled. “You won’t let your friends down, will you, Jack? Surely you have this one last escape in you?” Dr. Adamson raised his eyebrows and then nodded his head toward his son. “I leave their fate in your hands.”
What. In. The. World?
This was how Dr. Adamson played? No wonder Jack had a complex about everything on the planet being his fault.
I screeched in fury and shoved the projector off the table.
It crashed to the floor, and Dr. Adamson’s image on the wall went black. We all stared at the destroyed machine on the floor.
Beckett broke first.
“Why?!” He screamed. He kicked the projector, and it sailed across the conference room. “Why does it always circle back to him?”
“Screw it,” Jack ordered. “Time is ticking. We need to get to Finn and Imogen.”
Jack’s eyes narrowed on me. “Sage, if you’re in there, I could use a little help.”