The Vanishing Girl (2 page)

Chapter 3

Class was almost
unbearable. I couldn’t pay attention to the lessons today, my body taut with so much anxiety. I was hyperaware of my surroundings, prepared for the police to burst in at any second to haul me off to jail.

Throughout Anatomy I convinced myself I had a solid alibi
—
Ava and my parents could firmly place me here, in San Francisco, on both days I visited Adrian.

But two periods later in Calculus, I silently freaked out. Adrian could very well live in San Francisco or within driving distance of the city, meaning that it was possible to get to his place from my house should they lift the fingerprints that I’d so idiotically left on the safe. That was an amateur move; I knew better.

By the middle of Government, I was a hot mess. Why did I have to be cursed with the freakish ability to teleport? It had done nothing but threaten my life, embarrass me, and now it had gotten me into this mess.

And who else knew about my ability? I’d never mentioned it to anyone. That was the most disturbing question of all.

Mr. Culver, meanwhile, droned on. “Congress’s legislative powers balance the executive branch and the judicial branch. They, in turn, balance
—
”

The classroom phone began ringing. I braced my hands along the edge of my desk, not caring that my knuckles were turning white or that the girl sitting next to me was shooting me strange looks.

“One moment,” said a disgruntled Mr. Culver. He hated interruptions that broke up his lessons.

“Hello?” He paused. “Oh, hi Cynthia,” another pause, and then he scanned the room. His eyes came to rest on me. “Yeah, she’s here.”

My heart hammered in my chest.

“Okay, I’ll send her in.”

This was it.

He hung up the phone. “Ember, pack your bags and head to the office.”

Around me kids whispered.

“Ember’s in trouble,” someone murmured.

Tremors ran through my body as I picked up my bags and left the room. I practiced breathing techniques
—
more to prevent myself from vomiting than to calm myself down.

My mom waited for me in the office. Her eyes were red. She’d been crying.

“Mom?”

“Hey Ember, let’s get you home.” Her voice shook, and my heart sped up further.

The office secretary’s eyes darted between us curiously. My mom must not have mentioned exactly why she was picking me up.

We were silent as we walked to the car. I could guess what was going on, but I had no idea why my mother and not the cops were picking me up. I was smart enough not to say anything until I knew the full situation, so I stayed quiet while my mother sniffled next to me.

As soon as we got into my mom’s Honda, her words came rushing out. “Ember, there’s a lot I need to explain in a short amount of time.” A couple tears dripped down her face. “I’m not sure how to start …”

This was not how the situation was supposed to play out. Not at all. I was supposed to be confessing to her, not the other way around.

“Do you remember your father and me telling you that you were our miracle baby?” she asked.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion and nodded. I vaguely remembered the story, but I had no idea why now of all times we were taking a walk down memory lane.

“Well,” she continued, pulling the car out of the parking lot as she spoke, “we both wanted a child for years before you came along, but it never happened. And as we grew increasingly more desperate, we began going to fertility clinics, trying everything from artificial insemination
—
”

I crinkled my nose. I’d already gone to Anatomy for the day
—
this was really pushing my comfort limit.

“
—
to a surrogate mother. Nothing worked. Then we found a government sponsored fertility program. They subsidized the treatment cost, so we didn’t have to pay a thing. Their only condition was that, if the treatment was successful, the child was required to enlist in the military for a minimum of two years.”

I gasped at her words, a disturbing thought beginning to take shape.

“We convinced ourselves that enlisting for a couple years wasn’t so bad, and we felt like the odds of us conceiving were so remote that we went for it.” She pulled in a lungful of air. “And then you came. Our miracle.” Her words sighed out of her.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” I was too shocked to be furious. How could they keep such a secret from me?

My mother looked guilty. “The clinic told us that if the program was shut down, you would not be obligated to enlist. A few years after you were born, we heard that the program lacked the necessary funding, and it went under.”

I was hesitantly hopeful. “So, then I don’t have to serve in the military?”

I couldn’t even fathom being a soldier. Besides being allergic to taking orders, I didn’t think I had what it took to kill or seriously injure someone. My mind flashed to the club and the gun in my purse. At least one person thought I did.

My mom began crying.

I understood what she couldn’t bear to say. And in that moment I felt sorry for both her and me. Because we both knew my future was no longer my own. Somehow the program had received the funding it needed, and I was required to serve the government.

I took to
staring out the window for the rest of the car ride, my mother’s voice mostly white noise. Every once in awhile an explanation would drift in.

“The we feared the program had started back up …”

“… why we moved so much …”

“… they’re recruiting you today.”

This last statement snapped me back to attention. “They’re recruiting me
today
?”

My mom nodded. “That’s why I pulled you out of class. Agents are waiting for you at the house as we speak. Everyone thought it best that I explain the situation to you before
—
”

“I don’t even get to say goodbye to Ava?” My voice caught.

My mom shook her head. “I’m so sorry Ember.”

My current situation was only
slightly
better than getting hauled off to jail. But even with the unfairness of it all, I wasn’t sure who to be angry at. My parents
—
who were desperate and selfish enough to bargain their child’s future away? Or the government who exploited a couple’s weakness?

The car slowed as my mom turned onto our street. Parked in front of our house were several black SUVs.

My mom pulled into our driveway, and I jumped out of the car, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. I had to find my dad. We understood each other in a way my mom and I never could.

I barreled into my house. Five government officials milled about our living room, clearly waiting for me. My dad sat on our couch, rubbing his forehead. He and everyone else looked up as the door slammed behind me.

A quick glance at the officials’ tailored suits, smooth hair, and ear pieces told me that there was more to my recruitment than my parents knew or let on.

“Hey kiddo,” my dad said, his voice tired.

I ran into his arms like I did when I was five, not caring that I was making a scene. He held me tightly.

“I love you Ember Bug,” he whispered into my ear. “Please forgive your mother and me.”

I swallowed. I had hoped he would tell me this was all a horrible misunderstanding. Instead, his words diffused my rising anger, replacing it with a more worrisome emotion
—
acceptance.

“Ember Pierce,” a voice from behind me spoke.

I turned and faced the official who said my name.

“You’re finally here. I’m Dane Richards, head of the Generation Project.” I took the hand he offered.

Dane Richards was a tall, middle-aged man with a hawk-like appearance. His dark eyes were framed by thick, arching black eyebrows, making him appear nefarious. His sharp nose and full lips intensified his already striking features. Age had hardened the lines around his mouth, between his eyes, and along his forehead.

I could already tell he was going to make my life miserable.

He gestured to the other officials standing around. “This is Agent Payne, Fields, Kjar, and Griswold,” he said in quick succession. There was no way I was going to remember their names.

“So,” Dane continued, “Your mother told you about what’s going on?”

“Briefly.” I nodded, eyeing the front door. She hadn’t come inside. My bet was that she was still sitting in the car crying.

“Great,” he clasped his hands together and looked around the room. “Well, then pack your bags and let’s head out.”

I stared incredulously at him. “Right now?” This chain of strange and horrifying events was almost unbelievable. I had only been called to the office an hour ago.

He glanced at his watch. “Well, within the next thirty minutes. You have a long trip ahead of you.”

I looked at my father, searching for some sign that this crazy turn of events wasn’t real. My father’s shoulders were slumped; he looked like a man defeated.

But his eyes, his eyes said something else. They flicked to the front door, then back to me. In them was an unspoken command.
Run
.

Despite my father’s
warning, I didn’t run, not immediately. Instead I calmly walked to my room. But as soon as I closed the door behind me, I dumped out the contents of my backpack and began stuffing it with necessities. I threw my wallet and phone in there. I’d need to dump the smartphone soon, since I could be tracked with it, but there were phone numbers I’d need to copy over before I did so.

Then I emptied the cash I always stashed away in a lock box. Three hundred dollars. I knew the amount without having to count it. Not much, but enough to get me out of the city.

Next to the lock box was a bag full of survival gear
—
a compass, a hand powered flashlight, a water filter, a fire starter kit, a wool blanket, some dried food, a book on wild plant food, a Swiss Army knife, and a first aid kit. I knew how to use them all, though my life had never depended on them the way it might now.

I’d prepared myself for a situation like this. My ability to teleport was unique enough that if someone found out about it, I knew I might have to run. I’d accepted that a long time ago. But now I wondered just how much my dad knew about it
—
I’d assumed nothing
—
and how much the government knew.

I shoved a change of clothes and a photo of my family into the bag and zipped it up. I’d already wasted five precious minutes packing; I needed to get moving.

Changing out of my flimsy shirt and heels, I pulled on well worn boots I could both run and hike in, switched out my shirt for a hardier one, and threw on a fitted running jacket.

My heart slammed into my chest as I looked at my door. On the other side of it I could hear a quiet conversation.

I’d been found out. All my secrets, all my lies
—
even my tattoo
—
everything I’d done to stay under the radar was now for nothing.

Over eighteen years ago my parents made a promise to the government. In return for my inception, they’d hand me over for two years of military service. Over eighteen years ago, the government had helped make me, and now they’d come to collect.

Chapter 4

I blinked away
the sting in my eyes. I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye if I ran. Knowing my precious time was ticking by, I left a brief note for my parents, telling them that I loved them. I hid it beneath my pillow and glanced at the door once more.

Bye,
I mouthed.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder and strode over to my window. My room sat at the back of my house and overlooked a narrow alley. It wasn’t much of a view, but it was a great emergency exit.

I jimmied the window open, wincing when its warped wood frame groaned in protest. I swung first one leg, then the other out the window and dropped to the paved ground beneath me.

Shrugging my backpack higher up my shoulder, I glanced down the alley. At the end closest to me, a man wearing a black suit and an earpiece stood guard, probably in case something like this happened.

What was going on?

He wasn’t looking in my direction, but as soon as I glanced his way, it was as though he sensed me. His body turned, and our eyes locked.

That was all the encouragement I needed. I sprinted in the opposite direction. Behind me I could here the man’s leather shoes click against the pavement as he chased after me. I could also hear his breathless voice as he contacted his colleagues. These first few moments were the most important ones for me to get an advantage. If I couldn’t lose this guy now, more agents would join him.

I came to the end of the alley and turned right onto a busy city street. I ran down the street and cut across traffic. Horns honked at me, and tires squealed as I stopped traffic.

“Look where you’re going asshole!” a driver yelled at me. I ignored him as I wove through the cars.

As soon as I crossed the street, I ran through the main entrance of the stone building in front of me, the Unitarian church.

The sacred silence that enfolded me would, at any other time, have been calming. Now it made me feel exposed.

I slipped down the halls of the church, my footfalls muffled against the plush carpet, until I exited into the courtyard it shared with several other buildings, one of which contained a series of medical offices. I entered in through the back of the building and made my way to the front lobby where a row of chairs lined the walls. Bored patients sat in several of them and waited for their names to be called.

I glanced out the window. There was a bus stop right outside. It would be my getaway car.

I sat down in the general waiting room, switching between watching the hall I came from and watching the traffic outside. When I saw no signs of the agents who were after me, I willed my muscles to relax. Only now did I let myself think of what it meant to be wanted. And I evaded capture
—
that was criminal.

Now I really had to will myself to stay calm. I’d broken a whole lot of laws while teleporting, but I’d never gotten caught. Now that was a very real possibility.

From my view of the street, I could see a bus line heading my way. I hiked my backpack onto my shoulders and got up from my seat. Only when the bus came to a stop and slid its doors open did I make a beeline for it.

I joined the loose crowd of people waiting to get on and tried to look inconspicuous. It didn’t work.

Just as I reached for my MUNI pass, a hand caught my wrist and dragged it behind me.

“I don’t think so, tiger.” The voice was low and sexy, and I could hear the smile in his words. That did nothing but piss me off.

“What. The
fuck
?” I said. Loudly.

We San Franciscans are the people’s people, loving, forward thinking, and ready to fight for the underdog. I just hoped those who watched saw me as that.

Apparently, some did. Two separate men who’d been waiting to board the bus now stepped towards us.

The man detaining me slid my backpack off, grabbed my other arm and tugged it behind me as well. “Nice try,” he whispered into my ear. I could just tell by the way he spoke that he was good looking. And he knew it too.

To the men in front of us my captor said, “I have a warrant for this young lady’s arrest. Get involved and I’ll get a warrant for yours.” That was enough to dismantle my rescue mission. Looking somewhat regretful, both men backed away and eventually boarded the bus.

I glanced down at my captor’s shoes. Unlike the other agents, he wore casual tennis shoes and jeans. That’s why I hadn’t noticed him inside the building. I wondered if he’d been watching me the entire time.

I tensed my leg, visualizing myself slamming my foot into his. I’d enjoy wiping that cocky tone from his voice.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t do that,” he said from behind me, as though reading my mind. “Not only will you get charged for attacking an officer, I’ll have to tackle you to the ground and frisk you.” Again, I could hear the smile in his voice.

I turned to give him a nasty look, but once I did so, my throat caught. The first thing I noticed was that I had to look up to meet his eyes. I wasn’t short; this guy was just huge, and every inch of exposed skin was muscular and tan.

The next thing I noticed were his dimples, which bordered a self-satisfied smirk. Disheveled, golden hair curled along his hairline. Someone so annoying didn’t deserve to look that good.

Hazel eyes watched me, and judging by the laugh lines that creased the corners of them, he found me amusing.

“Enjoying the view, princess?”

Screw the extra charges. I brought my foot up and slammed it down into his.

He grunted. “I was hoping you’d do that.” He swept my feet out from under me, and I slammed into the ground.

A second later my captor’s hard torso pressed into mine. We made eye contact for a moment, just long enough for me to realize that even this up close, he was every bit as beautiful as his voice originally indicated he’d be, and he couldn’t be much older than me.

Go figure I’d meet two devastatingly handsome men in a week, and one would arrest me while the other would think I was trying to kill him.

Life just wasn’t fair sometimes.

He flipped my body over, his knee digging into my back, and he restrained me with plastic handcuffs. He recited my Miranda Rights as he frisked me, spending an inordinate amount of time feeling up my back pockets.

Around us, people stared, some taking photos and videos with their smartphones.

So much for my grand escape.

“
Got her Boss
.” My captor watched me as he spoke into the phone, flashing me another one of his sickeningly perfect smiles. Around us cars honked and people walked by. Life went on as usual for everyone except me.

I leaned my head back against the wall of the office building I’d so recently hidden in, my hands twisted behind me.

I couldn’t hear the other end of the line, but he must’ve asked for our location, because my captor rattled off the street we were on.

Shortly after that, the call ended, and he sat down next to me.

I wouldn’t look at him, but I still watched him from the corner of my eye. He was checking out my bag. “What do you have in this thing? It weighs a ton.”

When I didn’t answer him, he unzipped it and peered inside.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, turning to him.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Checking out your bag.” He pulled out my water purifier. He raised his eyebrows, a hint of admiration in them. “You planning on living off the grid?”

I flashed him a nasty look. That seemed to only encourage him. He glanced back down into the bag and pulled out my compass and fire starter kit. “Damn, but I’m impressed. You know how to use this stuff?” he asked, looking up at me.

“No, Sherlock,” I said, “I just threw it into the bag purely so that it could weigh me down.”

The glint in his eyes and the smile he flashed let me know that I’d played right into his hand. He wanted to goad me into talking.

“Any food in here?” he asked, rummaging through the bag. He pulled out a freeze-dried bag of food
—
the kind you needed to pour boiling water over to eat.

Without asking, he opened the bag and reached in. He picked out a few pieces of food and tossed them into his mouth.

He grimaced. “That tastes like shit,” he said. He flipped the bag around and studied it. “You were really going to eat this?”

“What do you think?”

Ignoring me, he glanced back into the bag and let out a low whistle. “We have a winner.” He held up a tiny G-string. “Now this, I approve of.”

If my hands weren’t tied, I would’ve throttled him. As it was, I was tempted to kick him. But I wouldn’t be fast enough, and I’d probably end up beneath him. Again.

So instead, I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes. I began humming a childhood lullaby, one that my mom used to sing to me when I couldn’t fall asleep. Sometimes it’d helped me cope when I teleported into awful situations.

Only once the song came to an end did I realize that my captor hadn’t spoken in a while.

I opened my eyes and found him staring at me, his gaze softer than it had been.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I said.

“Like what?”

“Like you pity me.”
Or care about me.

It was human nature to want to connect with others, and I definitely didn’t want to feel anything other than animosity for the guy who arrested me.

Arrested. The term didn’t sit well with me. Nor did the term
officer
. He’d used a lot of pretty language when he grabbed me, but had he even flashed a badge? I didn’t think so.

“You’re not a police officer,” I stated.

He smiled. “I’m not.”

My heart dropped. “Do you work for the government?”

His smile became sly. “You could say that.”

“So you came with those agents to capture me?”

He pulled his leg up so that it was bent at the knee, and he slung an arm over it. “I didn’t come with them, but I do work with them.”

He made his next words sound deliberately casual. “And when they told me they’d found you, my pair, I requested that I personally be there to bring you in.”

Pair?

His eyes flicked over me. “Have to say, you didn’t disappoint. At all.”

I had the oddest temptation to blush at his words.

He stood up and glanced at his watch. “Looks like our time’s almost up, princess.”

“Stop calling me that.”

His eyes sparkled mischievously. “But it’s so much fun getting a rise out of you.”

When I shot him a mean look, he sighed, as though his life were real tough. “I’ll see you tonight, Ember.”

He knew my name. I raised my eyebrows, ignoring the way my skin heated at his words.

His watch beeped twice, and then he vanished.