The Gathering (3 page)

“If you showed up before, he knows you’ll come back. And if you come back, you could get hurt. Call me ridiculous, but he seems like the kind of guy who’d rather be tortured to death than put you in any sort of danger.”

Of course.
It’s exactly the kind of thing Luka would do.

Jillian sighs, like it’s romantic.

“How am I supposed to get to him, then?”

“The same way we got to Claire.” He holds up the probes we attached to our temples a few hours ago. “This will put you in a deep sleep. You won’t have to fight against an unstable dream. You’ll only have to fight against Luka’s resistance. If he’s being tortured as badly as you say, then it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

I throw my arms around Link’s neck and hug him tight. The gesture must catch him off guard. It takes a second before he wraps his arms around my waist and hugs me back.

Jillian peeks out into the hallway, then closes the door and clicks the lock. “Cap will murder all three of us if he finds out what we’re doing.”

“He won’t. He’s too busy getting Fray ready to leave with Dr. Carlyle.” Link untangles another set of probes and connects it to the computer. “All right, Jilly-Bean. I want to make sure you know what you’re doing.”

She joins him, paying careful attention as he points out important number strings.

Confusion prickles my thoughts. “Are you leaving?”

“Of course not.” He attaches a set of probes beneath his collar and hands me a set of my own. They monitor our vitals. A precaution to avoid things like cardiac arrest. “I’m going with you.”

I shake my head. He isn’t a Fighter. He isn’t even a Shield. He’s a Linker. Hence, his nickname. There’s no reason for him to come along and put his life in jeopardy.

“Someone has to make sure you aren’t constructing.”

“I would know if I was constructing.”

“You didn’t last night.”

A slow burn works its way into my cheeks.

Last night, if Link hadn’t interrupted my make-out session with imaginary Luka, who knows how long it would have continued, or where things would have led. “That was a little different than watching Luka being lacerated by crazy white-eyed demon men. I would never construct a torture scene.”

Link brushes a strand of hair from my face and gently attaches a probe to my left temple. “Show me, then.”

“You’re putting yourself in danger.”

“It’s about time, don’t you think?”

“Link …”

He rolls his eyes. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. Worry about you. I’m a little concerned you won’t be able to control yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“This isn’t a rescue mission.”

“But I thought—”

“If Luka’s really being held hostage, we’re going to need backup. I won’t be any help to you in there. All we’re doing is going in, learning as much as we can, then reporting to Cap. He can’t ignore us both. Think you can handle that?”

Go to Luka—watch him being tortured—and do
nothing
? I’m not sure it’s possible. But Link’s waiting for an answer, so I give him a nod and attach the probes beneath my clavicle. The monitor picks up the erratic thumping of my heart as I take a seat in one of the chairs.

“Okay, Jilly-Bean. If either of our heart rates exceeds 200 BPMs, wake us up.”

Mine is already more than halfway there.

As if reading my mind, Link takes my clammy hand and gives it a short squeeze. “Come on, Xena, take some deep breaths or we’ll be done before we start.”

I inhale deeply through my nose. Exhale completely through my lips. Then I close my eyes and focus all my energy on Luka.

Gallons and Gallons

I
stand in a cold, dark chamber with my hand tucked inside Link’s. The hairs on my arms rise to attention. Something is off. Something is different. It’s like we’re not in the right place. Link pulls me behind a stack of wooden crates. We squat low, our eyes adjusting to the dark, and I realize what it is.

Silence fills the chamber.

There are no blood-curdling screams.

I peek over the crates and my knees almost buckle. Thirty or forty yards ahead, in the same spot as before, Luka sits on the ground, his back propped against a metal beam. His body does not twist in agony. His hands do not clench into fists. His shirt does not stretch against his taut muscles as he arches up in torment. This time, he’s deathly still. And he’s no longer surrounded. Only one white-eyed man stands guard.

My muscles coil. I can take on one. One’s nothing. I shift forward, but Link grabs my shoulder and pulls me back just as the
tap-tap-tap-tap
of shoes against cement echoes through the chamber.

“Any sign of her?”

An icy chill hugs the back of my legs. I would recognize that voice anywhere. It’s him—Scarface. The man who’s been hunting me ever since I fought him in the ICU to protect my brother. If not for the two jagged scars running the length of his cheeks, his face would be completely ordinary. Altogether forgettable. Luka and I gave him the scar on the right. I have no idea how he got the one on the left.

“Not yet,” the guard answers.

“I was certain she’d return before now.” Scarface clucks his tongue and folds his hands behind his back. “Such a pity. Our guest is looking rather peaked, don’t you think?”

The guard laughs.

Scarface crouches down, like a parent bending low to look a small child in the eyes, and grabs Luka’s chin. “Tell me, Mr. Williams, where is the girl? Are you keeping her from us?”

Luka glares at him.

“So brave. So noble. So
romantic
. And such a waste of energy.” He lets go.

Luka’s head flops forward, like he’s too weak to lift it on his own.

“You know, Mr. Williams, there’s more than one way to skin a rabbit.” Scarface studies the nails on his hand. “In fact, I have another plan in the works as we speak. Make no mistake, I will have your sweet Tess.”

Luka lunges, but it’s no use. A ribbon of black mist curls from the guard’s fingers and binds Luka tighter.

“Temper, temper.” Scarface straightens and faces his skeletal crony. “If he has enough energy to keep our Little Rabbit away, we must be going too easy on him.”

The guard’s lips stretch into a twisted smile. The black mist wraps itself around Luka’s skull and pulls tighter around his chest.

Luka’s body twists. His scream rents the air. Before I can move, before I can call out, Link grabs me around the waist and startles us both awake.

*

Jillian and Link follow me up and down the hallways without saying a word. I must look certifiable. I can tell by the way everyone stares as I pass them. Like maybe I really do need the medicine I pushed down the grate my first night here. It’s hard to care with Luka’s scream ringing in my ears.

I find Gabe in the kitchen. “Where is he?”

He hands Rosie a box of Cheerios. “Who?”

“Cap. He’s not with Fray, so where is he?”

“I saw him with Non.” It’s Rosie who answers, her voice small. It’s the first time I’ve heard it match her size. “They were in Luka’s room.”

“He’s alive, Gabe. If you don’t believe me, ask Link.” I don’t wait for a response. I leave for Luka’s room. When I arrive, I throw the door open. It crashes against the wall.

Non turns around with a stethoscope in her ears. My attention slides to Luka, lying impossibly still in the bed. His eyes are closed, his face relaxed. But all I can see is him writhing in pain on the cold, cement floor. All I can hear is his scream.

I grit my teeth. “He’s alive.”

Cap sits in his wheelchair in the corner. “Non has confirmed that for us.”

“I mean his soul is alive. His soul is alive and you’re doing nothing.”

“I’m doing what leaders do.”

“Which is what? Letting one of your men die when you could save him?”

Cap rolls himself closer, his eyes flashing. “Ensuring that more of my men don’t end up like him.”

“He doesn’t have to end up like this at all!” I want to pull out my hair. I want to tear my clothes. I want to bang my fists on the ground. Anything to get him to listen. “Luka’s soul is alive. Link can verify it.”

“It would be a suicide mission.”

I blink. The words stun me into stillness. So does the faint hint of shame pulsing beneath them. All of it spins around me, making the room tilt. Cap believes me. Cap believes me and he’s still not going to do anything. I feel sick.

He drags his hand down his face. “They’re after
you
. Luka is the bait.”

“You’re a coward.”

“I’m not going to march you to your death. You’re too important.”

“Why? Because of some stupid prophecy that we know next to nothing about? One you didn’t even believe until recently?” I run my hands back through my hair and curl them into fists. I’ve embraced the fact that my gifting is extraordinary, but that doesn’t mean I have to embrace a prophecy that puts me in charge of saving humanity. Cap’s stacking the weight of the world on my shoulders when I can’t even hold myself up. “This thing I have? It means
nothing
without him. It’s useless without him!”

Cap’s lips flatline.

Non stands by the bed, watching.

Luka sleeps.

And screams.

He’s doing that even if we can’t hear it.

My breath grows ragged. “Do what you want. I’m going after him.”

“I’ll go with you.” The voice comes from behind me.

I spin around.

Gabe stands in the doorway, his dark eyes every bit as emotionless as always. Once upon a time, I thought he was born without a personality. Later I learned that Gabe was a Keeper like Luka. But he lost his
anima
, his breath of life. Her soul was snuffed out by the enemy, and her body slowly followed. “Link told me what he saw.”

The tension digging into my shoulders releases its talon-like grip, followed by a flood of relief. Gallons upon gallons upon gallons of it. Gabe believes me. Gabe will help.

His dark stare slides to Cap in his wheelchair. “Our guests have arrived.”

Ramifications

G
abe stops, blocking my entrance to the common room as Cap rolls ahead of us. “There’s a distinct limit to how far he will be pushed.”

My brow puckers.

“If you want Cap’s help, I recommend a little self-control.” He raises his eyebrows at me, then walks inside, where several people have already gathered with Dr. Carlyle and the hub’s newest member—Clive DeVant. He’s slightly older and thinner than his dream self, but he stands at attention in the exact same way, as though waiting for someone—
anyone
—to say
at ease
. His stare slides from Gabe to me as I approach. It has to be weird, seeing so many people you’ve only ever met in a dream.

Cap rolls forward and shakes Dr. Carlyle’s hand. “Non’s waiting for you in Fray’s room.”

Never one for small talk, Dr. Carlyle disappears into the hallway.

All that remains is the vigilant soldier.

“At ease,” Cap says. “You’re safe down here.”

Clive’s shoulders relax a tiny fraction.

I’m not so sure they should, in light of Claire.

Cap motions to the hodgepodge of shabby furniture behind us. We all sit. So does Clive, his posture stiff as he takes in the entirety of the common room—the ramshackle furniture, a wired television, a foosball table, a few scattered desks. I remember seeing it for the first time, when Luka and I were the ones being gawked at. It’s hard to believe we’ve been here for three-and-a-half months.

“You have quite the operation down here.”

“We’d give you a tour,” Cap says, “but there’s no point. I’m afraid we’ve brought you into a precarious situation.”

“I’m sure it’s better than the one I came from.”

This is true. I was never in Shady Wood, but I know what it’s like to be locked up and drugged against my will.

“The night we rescued you, one of our members betrayed us. She has since left. We’re fairly confident she hasn’t defected, but even so, our location has been compromised. We’ll be leaving as soon as we find new lodging.”

“And rescue Luka.”

Cap daggers me with a sharp look.

I mash my lips together and swallow my escalating sense of urgency, Gabe’s advice fresh in my mind. He’s right. Cap has his limits. And too often, I don’t just toe the line, I stomp right over it.

Cap sets his hands on top of his wheels, reverting his attention back to Clive. He peppers him with questions. Did he run into any problems? Is his strength fully intact? Does he know of any other groups like ours?

My knee begins to bounce. “Did you know a patient at Shady Wood named Elaine Eckhart?”

Clive shakes his head. “I was isolated from the other patients.”

“She was the other person we were trying to rescue. When we got to her room, she wasn’t there.” A cold finger runs up my spine at the memory of all those empty beds—of my grandmother’s empty room. “Do you know where she might have gone?”

“If her room was empty, then she’s dead. They’re killing patients off in droves.”

His words come like a sucker punch to the gut. I don’t know why. Non led me to the same conclusion the night before. It hadn’t come as a sucker punch then. But then, I’d been a zombie, incapable of processing anything. And until now, it was just a theory. I think I’ve been secretly hoping that once we rescued Luka, we could go find her.