The Escape (39 page)

“I’d like to see Jace.” I started to ask for details about his condition when I felt eyes burning into me. Scanning the disarray of vehicles, I found Delia surrounded by officers and staring at us over a police car. Someone had given her an ugly black raincoat, but it took nothing away from her regal stance. I met her stare, fury seeping into me. Lightning sparked from the ends of my sai.

“Erin?” Ritter said, worry heavy in his voice.

I was pulling in energy again using Brody’s ability, this time directly from the only available source: the lightning overhead. The electricity filled me in a single intoxicating rush. Power pulsed through my body. I crashed it mentally into Delia’s shield, and the glossy blackness split open like a melon.

“Erin!” At the panic in Ava’s voice, I looked down to find I was glowing. Heat thrummed through me. It was starting to hurt—like a hundred knives stabbing into my flesh. Or perhaps a bolt of lightning.

Ava banged at my mental shield, and I let her in. Then Brody was there, siphoning off the energy under Ava’s direction.

Next time,
I promised Delia, as the power faded from me.
Next time I will kill you.
I tried to send a wounding flash to her mind, but the energy was gone and her shield popped back into place, tight and whole as ever.

But not before I sensed her fear.

Dredging up every bit of energy I had left, I held my smile as she hurriedly climbed into the police car and was driven away. Blackness colored my vision.

“Help,” I said to no one in particular. “I think I’m going to faint.”

A
VA AND RITTER REACHED FOR
my arms to steady me as I pushed to keep the blackness at bay.

“You okay, Brody?” Ava asked. “How are you with the energy?”

He grinned, his blond hair and sideburns dry while everyone else was wet, even under their hats. “It’s gone. All of it. It went down through my feet.” A new confidence showed in his face. “Guess the earth was big enough to take it just fine. Makes sense. Lightning hits the ground all the time.”

We all looked down. A jagged inch-wide split marred the street at his feet, one I was pretty sure hadn’t been there a few minutes before. He shrugged. “I still have a bit to learn.” He looked from me to Ava, his eyes growing bleak. “I’m not going back to my family, am I?”

“No,” Ava said. “But you’ll be busy helping Tenika and the others here rebuild. You can arrange occasional visits with your family, but they should seriously think about allowing the Renegades to take your sister as well. We have reason to believe she was placed by the Emporium just as you were. After what happened with you, they may not wait to see if she Changes before taking her into custody.”

He swallowed hard. “I’ll talk to them. Thank you.”

I thought he’d be okay, despite his years of indoctrination by the Hunters, but only time would tell. As a psychologist, Tenika could help him better than most. At least Brody no longer seemed angry at me for killing him.

“We’d better get you to the first aid tent,” Ritter said to me, his hands running down my arms. “You’re shivering.”

I
was
cold, thanks to Brody taking every bit of my borrowed energy. There wasn’t enough left of my own to hold me up.

“I’ll take her,” Stella said, moving to my side. “General Whiting is waving at you.”

Ritter looked at a cluster of uniformed men near the gate. “Good. Ava and I want to see if we can get back inside the building with our people. It we can, it would mean at least a few Emporium Unbounded we could take to Mexico.”

Mexico meant our prison compound and an attempt at rehabilitation for Emporium Unbounded. Or to stand trial for their crimes, the punishment being true death. I still hadn’t dared ask the ratio of rehabilitation versus executions, but Ritter had told me that final decisions took up to a century, which gave me hope.

“Well, hurry,” I said, wiping rain from my face. “You look worse than I feel.”

He gave me a stare that succeeded in upping my temperature significantly. “I’ll meet you there.”

I watched Ritter and Ava stride toward a tall, uniformed man with a narrow face. Even as they began to talk, five Emporium Unbounded emerged from the front door of the compound, and a shout went up from the watching army. There was no mistaking Edgel in front. Behind him came Dr. Tunns and two soldiers supporting a staggering Lew. Edgel had his hands raised in surrender. I didn’t anticipate they’d be in any jail cell long, despite the vice president’s participation tonight.

“Come on,” Stella urged, taking my arm.

I’d rather shift to the tent, but my head felt stuffed with cotton and the idea of dropping my shield to link with Mari who had gone ahead with the others made me nauseated. I was glad Delia wasn’t around or she’d probably already be inside my brain.

Stella put her arm around me as we moved forward. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Except that I might be so far gone that I can’t feel the pain.”

She smiled and transferred her cap to my own head. “You did a great job.”

I stopped walking, pushing wet hair from my eyes. “I’m not afraid of Delia anymore. I know I have to be careful, but I’m not afraid.”

She hugged me. “That’s good.”

I started walking again, but slowly so Stella could lead the way. The first aid tent turned out to be three times larger than I expected, glowing with lights that had either been too far away for Brody to absorb or that had been replaced. Outside, it looked like a Secret Service reunion.

“It’s the vice president,” Stella said over the underlying hum that filled the area. “And his wife. They’ve been waiting here for their son. Don’t worry. I was here earlier. They’ll let us in, but we’ll have to leave our weapons in that box by the door.”

Knowing Stella, half of the Secret Service agents had probably asked for her phone number.

“Here’s another survivor,” she announced to the agent at the tent door, making a show of helping me walk. I didn’t have to pretend to lean on her.

“Go right in, Miss Stella,” he said. “After you both put your weapons in the box, of course.”

I obliged, placing my sai and my knife inside. From her coat, Stella took out two guns, four knives, a short saber, and several throwing stars. “The guns aren’t even loaded,” she whispered with a roll of her eyes. “I used all the bullets outside the compound.”

Inside, a wave of heat hit our faces, and I realized that some of the noise outside had come from a generator. That explained the lights and the warmth.

Jace, Oliver, and the released prisoners were lying or sitting on cots, while Mari and Cort stared into a large metal basin in the corner where they had put the shriveled Unbounded. Further into the room was a narrow corridor and curtains making up private rooms. More Secret Service stood shoulder to shoulder down the corridor and in front of the room on the right.

“One guess where they’ve taken Patrick,” Stella said dryly.

“Erin!” Jace started to rise from his cot, but after a few moments of struggling, he groaned and remained where he was.

I went to his side and plopped to my knees to hug him. “You were great at the hotel.”

He pushed me away. “Ew. Sorry, sis, but you really stink. Must be that dead guy. Keene smelled the same way when he brought him in.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Now that he mentioned it, the rotten smell did seem to cling to me.

“Not dead,” Cort corrected, glancing up from the lump.

“I wonder who he is.” This from Willis. “He’s probably one of ours who went missing.”

“We put our supplies in the end room on the left,” Stella said to me. “You should be able to find something to change into.”

I was about to take her up on that when Dimitri squeezed out from behind the line of Secret Service agents. “Erin, come in here. Patrick wants to see you.” He looked at Stella. “And Mrs. Mann asked for you.”

“I’ll come back in a bit,” I told Jace.

We walked down the narrow corridor a couple feet, brushing against the agents, who, to give them credit, didn’t even cringe at my smell. The makeshift room was actually supposed to be two, given the curtains tied up in the middle, but even so it was tiny. Patrick lay on a cot in the middle. His mother sat next to him on a stool, holding one of his hands, while his father squatted on the other side. At least there were no Secret Service agents inside, which was probably breaking all kinds of protocol.

“Hey, you,” I said to Patrick, trying not to feel awkward with the audience.

“Hey. I wanted to say thanks. Without you, I’d still be in that place.” His poor attempt at a smile stretched the fading green bruises on his face. “For a moment, I thought it was all over when they tossed us into that hole.”

“You were awake?”

“I was in and out.” He paused before glancing at his parents and continuing. “They know about it—all of it. They’re going to help, right Dad?”

The vice president patted his son’s shoulder before standing. “I can’t say I’m pleased with the discoveries I’ve made tonight, or the fact that my son is some kind of new breed of human, but I am happy to have him restored to me.” He shook his head. “There’s no way I want people like those who took him at the head of our country. They must be stopped. So, yes, you can bet I’m going to do everything I can to prevent that from happening.”

“We’ll be moving Patrick tonight,” Dimitri said. “For now he’ll go to our safe house, but we’ll have to fake his death. Otherwise, it will be too hard to protect him. He’s pretty well-known here. He may have to go to one of our groups in Europe for a time. But he’ll be free to contact you as much as you both determine it’s safe.”

“Wait,” I said. “We need a face. A face for the Unbounded when we eventually do go public. Why not Patrick?”

Patrick struggled to sit up further on his pillows. “I want to help. I’ll do whatever I can.”

Dimitri thought for a moment. “Maybe. We’ll have to talk about it. You’d still have to be hidden and protected until you’re needed, but instead of death maybe we can come up with another story that will leave us more options.”

Mrs. Mann gave a little sob, but the vice president nodded. “I understand. And I thank you, all of you, for bringing our son back to us.” He lifted his eyes to include Stella and me in his comments but refocused immediately on Dimitri. “When you’re finished here, I’ll take you to the president. I’d like you to save his life if you can.”

“He will never recover what he’s lost,” Dimitri said, “but I will try to save his life. Even if I succeed, it will mean several transplants. He won’t be strong enough to continue as president.”

Mann’s shoulders slumped slightly. “I’ll prepare myself for that eventuality, however much I hope it’s not true. Thank you for whatever you can do. Regardless of his future position, Kenneth Stevens is a wise man and I believe his advice and counsel will help us through this crisis. Now I’d better see about sending all these soldiers to their beds.” To his wife, he added, “I’ll be back soon.” Nodding to the rest of us, he strode from the room.

“You’re in good hands,” I told Patrick. “I’m going to change, but I’ll see you later.”

Before I could leave, Carolyn Mann said something softly to her son and arose. “Can I talk to you?” she asked Stella. Strong emotion flowed from her, the first I’d been able to feel through my shield since my brush with the lightning.

We squeezed out past the Secret Service agents, but instead of returning to the main room, Stella led us through the curtain on the other side of the corridor. “You can get through the supply room this way,” she told me. “And you won’t have to fight your way through the agents in the hallway.” Sure enough, inside the other narrow room was a split in the curtains.

Mrs. Mann reached out to touch my sleeve, holding me in place. “I’m so grateful to you all for finding him.” Tears started down her cheeks. “Especially you for going inside that building.”

As if I’d had a choice—as least the second time. I felt embarrassed at her praise.

“I love Patrick so much,” she continued. “I always have, but I have to say that in those months after he was born, I did feel something . . . missing. Something not related to Patrick. A . . . a hole. I didn’t understand it then, but it makes sense now. I wouldn’t change what happened, not if it meant losing Patrick, but I . . . I’d like to know who he is.” She gave us a watery smile. “My—my other son, I mean. Does he really have three children? Does he look like me or his dad? Do you think . . . do you think he’d ever want to meet us? Not to interfere in his life. Just . . . just to meet him?”

Stella put her arm around Mrs. Mann and she finally let go of me. “I’m sure he would,” Stella said. “I’ll get you all the information I have. You can be proud of him. He’s a good person and a respected leader. A devoted father. He had good parents.”

“I’m glad.” Mrs. Mann’s face bobbed as she nodded, trying to contain her emotion to a level the people beyond the curtains couldn’t hear. “I’m so glad. Thank you. Thank you so much for giving me back both my sons.”

I hoped the Manns would be able to have some sort of relationship with Howard Obstfield, their biological son, despite the negative publicity it might give Mann’s run for the presidency, because Patrick’s life would be far from normal. At the same time I felt pity for Patrick losing part of his parents’ attention, though I doubted he would see it that way. He’d want their happiness, and he’d be occupied with Renegade business anyway. He would never be able to have an ordinary relationship with his parents.