*SAGE
To get into my room, Jack had busted through the window above the toilet.
“And that’s the way we’re exiting, too,” he said.
Jack slipped out the bathroom window, motioning for me to follow. I peeked my head out, looking down.
The grassy side yard loomed a full two stories below. The clouds covered the stars tonight, even the light of the moon shone at half-strength, shrouded by striated clouds. It looked like a light rain had fallen earlier; the air heavy with moisture. The grass had a wet, dewy appearance.
“It’s not so hard,” Jack said, already making his way down. “Just find the stones with tiny overhangs. Grip tight, but use your legs. It’s not in the fingers. It’s in the legs. Your palm should be fine.”
I didn’t move. “Don’t you have any gear or special tools or something?”
“Tools?” He looked up at me, his body flat against the stone exterior already feet below the window. “Like secret rappelling wire hiding in my pockets?”
“Yes …” I said, hopeful.
“No. That would be resourceful, but unnecessary.”
“But …”
Jack lowered himself further down the wall. “You think I’m James Bond or something?”
I had yet to leave the window, my apprehension building.
“No, you’re J. A. Doesn’t J. A. have any cool gadgets hiding somewhere on his person?”
“I’m pretty sure not, but you’re welcome to search me when we’re down from here.” He smiled up at me. “Now get going!”
“Jack …” This wasn’t a good idea. Why did he think I could do this?
And then I realized why.
Jack still thought I was operating with heightened skills. He didn’t know I had nothing any more—not even my numbers.
No semblance of anything special at all.
“Jack!” I hissed, trying to tell him as much, but he’d already made it more than halfway down the wall.
I cursed.
Here went nothing. Just a few broken legs if I fell, right?
I swung my legs out into the cool night air. My feet scrambled for some sort of purchase, and finally they found a very tiny piece of stone jutting out from the wall. I took a deep breath and shifted my hands from the window sill. My fingertips gripped the first stone just below the window ledge. My palm cried out in indignation at the exertion of my hand.
I slowly lowered my right leg, searching for another ledge. My tennis shoe found one.
I scanned the wall for another spot near my waist to place my hands.
There. A little stone, sticking out.
A clammy layer of sweat broke out on my palms, not helping my effort since the stones were already damp themselves. I held my breath and bit my lip in concentration, forcing myself not to look down. My left leg went next, searching, searching …
And then, I slipped.
I think I screamed as I fell.
I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the ground, and praying I wouldn’t knock Jack off the wall below me.
The next thing I knew, I was in Jack’s arms.
He’d caught me. My legs dangled over one of his arms, my torso held by his other.
I waited for Jack to wince in pain, waited for some part of my body to start throbbing.
None of that happened.
My mind still hadn’t adjusted to having Jack around again.
“Hurry,” he said, placing my feet on the ground and grabbing my hand. “They probably heard you scream.”
We sprinted for the nearest row of shrubs.
*
“Now what?” I said, once we were hiding in the bushes. The night air felt crisp, the dampness of the ground making its way into my bones. The mist had started up again. In the far distance, lightning flickered across the night sky.
My knee touched Jack’s thigh as we squatted, and again, I felt disappointment at the lack of energy that flowed between us. It’s not that I didn’t appreciate what it felt like to touch him—the idea, and the feel of it, were both pleasant. But the touch lacked the voltage from before.
I shifted slightly so that our legs weren’t connecting and I wouldn’t have to think about it right now.
Jack didn’t seem to notice my subtle movement away from him.
“Now, we wait while these guys leave.” He nodded to three guards jogging by on the far side of the lawn near the veranda. “We listen for our cue. Then we make our way to the opposite side of the mansion where my bike is parked. There’s a back road out of here. They use it when they bring in landscapers to work on the property. I cut the lock off the gate earlier tonight.”
“And Beckett?”
“He’ll head in the opposite direction. Throw them off our trail.”
I nodded, my eyes glued to the guards searching the perimeter until I felt Jack staring at me.
When I actually got up the nerve to look at him, I saw he was frowning.
“What?” I said.
“You couldn’t hear me,” he said. “I was talking to you while you were up on the wall, trying to coach you on where to place your hands.”
“Well, if you would have spoken a little louder,” I said.
“But you didn’t have any trouble hearing me back on the island, over the noise of the gunshots and the helicopter. I was barely whispering back then. And your cut …” Jack’s brow furrowed. “And the pull …. What happened to you?”
I knew it!
I knew he felt the same pull on the island. He never admitted it to me then. He denied it by his indifference and unwillingness to talk about it. Now I know it was true. He had felt it, too. And now I knew he felt that same thing was missing, just like I did.
But it was Jack’s other words that rang most strongly in my mind: What happened to you?
I immediately became defensive.
I didn’t know what had changed, but so what, anyway?
“Nothing happened to me,” I said, irritated. “Just because I’m normal now doesn’t mean something is wrong with me.”
Jack held up his hand in an act of surrender, but the look of concern—or was it disappointment?—didn’t leave his face.
I didn’t have time to piece any more of my thoughts together because a whistle came from the front side of the mansion, followed by the roar of a motorcycle.
“That’s our cue,” Jack said. “Let’s go.”