Gravity (The Taking) (26 page)

“Baby girl,” Mom says, cupping her hands around my face, “can you hear me?”

She continues to talk, her words moving in and out as though she’s far away. “I hear you,” I say, though I’m not sure whether the words are in my mind or voiced out loud. Wetness covers my cheek. She’s crying. I want to tell her to stop and that everything will be okay. My eyes blink; my head becomes heavier. I don’t want this misery anymore.

“Ari, talk to me,” she urges. “Please, talk to me.” She shakes me, then she says something to Dad and I feel her leave my side. She returns a few seconds later and whispers, either to herself or to me, I’m not sure, “Please, let this work.” And I feel the prick and burn of another injection.

Nothing happens for what feels like forever. I can hear, but I can’t speak or open my eyes. No one says anything, but I can tell they’re all there, waiting, watching me for a response. Then…then, it feels as though fresh air blows through the room, into my lungs, helping me breathe. I draw in a long, satisfying breath and open my eyes. When I look around, I realize Gretchen is here, which means I must have been out for a while.

Mom comes back into the room just as I’m looking around and rushes over, tears spilling down her face. “Thank goodness.” She starts laughing, and I think she’s delirious until I glance around and see Dad, pale as snow, and Law with eyes wide. They must have thought I died.

“Can I have something to eat?” I ask, realizing I’m starving.

After Mom gives me something to eat and some water, everyone settles down, relieved. I feel so much better that I’m afraid to trust it, waiting for the sickness to return, but after half an hour, I’m stronger, finally able to stand on my own.

“What did you give me?” I ask Mom.

“I was so afraid,” Mom says. “It’s never been tested. I had no idea what would happen, and when you didn’t wake, I thought…I thought.” She clears her throat. “It’s a healing serum, like healing gel but more potent. The one I told you about. I’ve been working on it for months. I’m not sure how long it will last.”

I nod, worry creeping into my mind. This may be temporary. I walk over to the window that overlooks our street and peer out, loving the sight of the sun, wishing I could go outside, but I’m afraid. I’m about to step away when something catches my eye. There are Operatives stationed outside every house, all of them armed. “What are they…?” Then a high-pitched scream comes from the Roman house across from us. A guard carries their ten-year-old daughter from the house, her mom screaming and beating against the Operative the entire way, until another Op on the steps blocks her. Everyone in my house rushes to the windows, opening the blinds to expose the full picture of what’s happening, the full horror.

An Engineer truck sits at the end of our street with the back door open. Down the street, more and more Operatives carry or march people from their homes—some young, some old, all terrified. Before long, the infected line both sides of the street, marching by gunpoint to the truck. Family and friends scream from each of the houses, but Operatives block them from doing anything more. I start for the door, but Law pulls me back. “No, you can’t go out there. They’ll know.”

“I don’t care. We can’t stand here doing nothing.”

“He’s right, Ari,” Dad says. “You can’t go out there.”

I charge him, anger taking over. “You did this, didn’t you? You approved this. How could you?”

“No,” he says. “This came from the top.” He drops his head and goes to his office, shutting the door tightly behind him.

President Cartier. My body spasms with anger and frustration as I watch the Operatives herd the infected into the truck. The back door closes and a line of Operatives forms, stopping anyone from following. A small boy runs down the street, calling for his daddy over and over. An Operative grabs him, tossing him roughly over his shoulder. The boy cries out in pain, and then he stops crying, stops moving.

“Mom,” I say, not taking my eyes from outside.

“I’m here,” she says.

“Can you get more healing serum?”

She wrinkles her brow in confusion. “Yes, of course, why?”

“I’ll need it when I break into the execution base.”

CHAPTER 27

It took me half an hour to convince them I’m not crazy. Even Gretchen, who usually trusts my ideas, wouldn’t agree until the news showed a girl from school getting carted off by the Operatives. She was the first to falter, then Law, and finally my mom, the biggest surprise of all. We decided to spend the next hour formulating a plan and preparing, partially because we still didn’t know where the execution base was located, but also because the healing serum wore off an hour after it was injected. I needed time to rest, since I didn’t want to waste so much of the serum on me. But with Zeus shutting down the portals at five and the time ticking at fifteen past two, whatever plan we came up with had to happen fast.

Law set off to uncover the location, while Gretchen went to retrieve some weapons from her house and Mom left for the Chemist lab to get more healing serum. I have no idea how much we’ll need, but I’m guessing enough to dose a few hundred people. My job while they’re gone is to develop the plan, which is next to impossible with me getting sick every few minutes. Mom left me three vials of the serum just in case, and I decide to inject one, knowing without it I’ll never have a dependable plan before they return.

The serum enters my bloodstream, lighting up my insides, and just like before, I’m better within a few minutes. It’s amazing and makes me appreciate for the first time today just what a genius Mom is for creating it.

I don’t want to waste time, so I grab a notes tablet and get started jotting down every possible type of location and any barriers we may face at each. A chamber inside the Chemist building, similar to the Ancient testing chambers, with cameras, guards, and nowhere to run would be the worst, I think, but I’m not sure they could build a chamber inside the building to hold hundreds of people. Not with all the labs already in place. I jot all this down, but the more I think about it, the more I feel sure they’ll build something outside, where space isn’t an issue. This brings me to the croplands. Acre upon acre of land, woods on one side that go on forever. That might be the perfect place, but then that’s where all our food is grown, which means lots of fieldworkers as witnesses to their plan. Most would turn a blind eye, but some might put up a fight. No, Parliament won’t want an audience.

I’m wasting time guessing. What I need is a map of Sydia. I climb up the stairs, getting only a tad winded, and slip into my room.

My T-screen fires up, flashing that I have messages. I hesitate, wanting to ignore them, but curiosity wins out and I click the first message, only to jerk back in shock.

I’m coming for you.

—J

P.S. Please don’t die.

I stare at the words for several minutes, convincing myself again and again that it can’t be from him, but then who else would know I’m sick? He knows. Of course he knows. But then how would he be able to send me the message? He couldn’t. No. But then…

I shake my head to force myself back into focus. It doesn’t matter if he sent the message or not. I won’t let myself hope that he’s coming, because then I’ll never have the strength to do what I’m about to do. And I have to do this. I have to save these people.

The note closes and files away into my message folder, hidden from view. I won’t allow myself to even glance at the folder. I can’t risk losing time, and I know if I succumb to it, I’ll read the note a million times, craving to find answers that aren’t there. Instead, I search my homework folders for a map to Sydia, sure I have one from various history lessons, and it’s just a matter of finding— A-ha!

The map fills the screen. “Zoom out,” I command it, and watch as the map expands so all regions are visible. I never realized how much larger Process is than Landings, though we have half as many people. Parliament has always treated Landings people as though they were disposable, so I’m not sure why it surprises me they agreed to the execution base.

I start at the croplands. Zooming in on each section, I try to see if there is anything isolated, but the map shows only field after field. Parliament would have to cut out a major section of crops to build the base, and there isn’t time for that. Business Park shows nothing of interest, only the Trinity Towers and shops in the District. There’s no amount of land, and I can’t imagine they would go underground there. Again, that’s too much work for so little time.

Process reveals similar issues, and I’m about to close out the map when something just outside the city catches my eye. It isn’t detailed, but just outside city limits, beyond Process Park, is a single symbol—a hovercraft. I’ve never flown before, so I’ve never been to the airport, and often forget about it. It’s primarily used for business purposes, but it’s there, surrounded by land and isolated from potential lurkers. The only problem is that I have no idea how much land surrounds it. I reach for my notes tablet and, realizing I forgot it downstairs, open my desk drawer to search for another one, and I spy two things that I can’t believe I almost forgot—the poisonous trick knife Mom gave me and the gold universal keycard. I sigh with relief, feeling somehow better knowing I’ll have something from both of my parents with me. I slide them into my right boot just as I hear my front door open and close. I bolt from my room, eager to see who’s back and with what information.

Gretchen stands in my foyer, balancing two cases in her arms. “If you’re feeling up to it, think you could give me some help?”

“Oh, sure, yeah,” I say as I jump down the stairs and grab one of the cases from her. “What is all this stuff?”

“You said you wanted weapons, so I brought all I could that wouldn’t look obvious. Where do you want it?”

I nod toward our transfer door and wait as Gretchen gets into the elevator, a surprised look on her face. She’s never been to our training room. Dad’s orders. But I think today can be an exception.

As soon as the door opens, the lights click on, revealing our tech-savvy, hardcore training room. I haven’t been here in several weeks, and seeing Gretchen’s jaw drop, I’m reminded of how amazing the room is and how lucky I was to train here. I motion for her to drop her case on the weapons shelf and start back for the door when Gretchen pipes up. “Can I… I mean, do you care if I…try a few?”

I can’t help but smile. Regardless of what’s going on, Gretchen is still Gretchen. It’s a relief right now when I’m unsure of so many things. “Definitely,” I say and lean against the wall as she pulls a few different weapons from their shelves—a trick knife that can change size, several different guns, and then a grenade with a switch that changes its function.

All of a sudden, we’re both smiling, happy for the first time today, but all happiness drains away when we go back upstairs to find Law in my sitting area, his expression grim. “This isn’t going to be easy,” he says, tapping his fingertips together. “Maybe even impossible. The base is a detached metal structure that’s really more cage than building. They control it from the outside, and the location couldn’t be worse. You’ll never guess.”

“The airport,” I say. “I know. But it doesn’t matter. We have to get there, and time is running out.”

Law nods; he knows me too well to argue. “The tron goes out there, but that would be obvious. The only other option is through the woods.”

“Through the woods?” Gretchen says.

“Yeah, the airport is on the other side of these woods. Surely you knew.”

“No, I didn’t,” I say. “But it’s too far to walk. We’ll have to take the tron.”

We all agree and set in to developing our strategy while we wait for Mom to return home with the serum. The best route seems to be to take the tron in and act normal. I’ve never flown, but Law has plenty of times and feels sure he can get past the guard. I’m not so confident, but I’ve packed backup in case we run into issues at the gate. Once we’re inside, everything should be easy. Well, until we get to the base, and then it becomes dangerous. My plan is to have Law go up to the main crew and claim he’s delivering a message from his mom telling them that they need to switch shifts. They won’t budge on that alone unless they’re idiots. I wouldn’t. But we don’t need them to move, we just need them distracted while Gretchen and I find a way inside the base to treat and release the infected.

The only questionable element is whether an alarm will sound once we free everyone. If it does, we’re dead. We’ll be surrounded in no time, outnumbered and out-trained. So I pack a few grenades to use as a distraction just in case. We need to get in, release the infected, and get out, hopefully without anyone getting hurt. But I prepare myself mentally anyway. I may have to hurt or even kill someone I know, someone who works for my dad, in order to save these people.

There is one port in Sydia, just north of the airport. There will be a few guards there, and it may be crowded thanks to Zeus’s announcement. I’m not sure how many people can pass through the port at once. I hope lots. But if not, these people may die waiting to be saved. I try not to think about it.

Mom comes in through the back door carrying two large coolant bags. “I have one hundred and five vials. That’s the best I could do.” She slumps onto the sofa, and I reach out to hug her.

“Thank you. I know what you’re risking. Thank you,” I say.

She looks up and shrugs. “I can’t support what they’re doing. I wish I could go with you, but I’m not trained. Just please, please, please be careful. Please make it back home. Okay?”

I don’t want to promise her that I will, so I just nod, hoping my smile convinces her, even though I’m not convinced myself.

We spend the next twenty minutes getting into combat clothes, strapping weapons to holsters, and packing our backpacks with additional weapons—mainly guns but also grenades, trick knives, and flashlights, because you never know. Then Gretchen and I slide a coolant bag each into our packs, zip them up, and test them on our backs. It’s heavy but not unbearable. I inject two healing serums into my system to give me the strength I’ll need, slip a backup serum into my right boot beside the trick knife and master keycard, and then look around at the others. “It’s time.”