Authors: Susan Adrian
Tunnel Vision (17 page)
That does not make it better.
We turn and walk back in the hard, vicious cold, and she makes a pot of coffee.
We don’t speak. There’s nothing to say, the thoughts whirling in endless loops. We sit at the table across from each other and drink coffee until we hear Mom start moving around. Then we split up. Ana starts breakfast, and I go into my room, sit on my bed, prepare myself.
To see what the day will bring.
Liesel calls Ana before breakfast: they’re still gathering intelligence on the threat. With the extra security, we’ll be safe. We’re all supposed to go about our usual routines as though nothing has happened, until she knows more.
Ana suggested I call in sick from school—after two nights of no sleep, I must look pretty pitiful. I barely even managed to shave. Liesel overruled her. We can’t get anyone suspicious that we realize anything is wrong.
So I trudge off. Even driving Myk to school I feel odd, like there’s a fogged-up bubble between me and everything else.
“You okay?” Myk asks, when I drop her off.
I scrape together a smile. “Fine, dorkus. Just tired. You take care today, all right?”
She nods, still frowning, pulls on her Little Einsteins backpack, and takes off.
“Love you, munchkin,” I say, under my breath. I watch her go all the way into her building before I leave.
The rest of the morning is a blur. I do calc problems badly, take illegible notes in world history and English, and do a piss-poor job of listening to Chris freak out about final rehearsal tonight and opening night tomorrow.
I don’t even know if I’ll
be
here for opening night. That’s all I can think about. Not how the choreography is falling apart and they had to re-do the blocking, or how the costumes aren’t ready. But I try to listen. It’s important to him.
I talk to Rachel a little before class, but I don’t know what I’m saying. She keeps looking at me strangely. Again I get the feeling she’s the only one who notices that everything is
wrong
.
I ache to tell her, to talk openly about all this. But I can’t endanger her too.
Eric gives me space, but keeps an eye on me. He seems tense. Maybe that’s just me projecting my own tenseness. It’s like there are bees humming under my skin.
At study hall Eric decides that going across to the graveyard today wouldn’t be “productive enough to mitigate the security risk.” We stay in the library and I actually crack the books and work on my project. It’s the one thing I’m able to focus on all day. Diving into family histories, names and dates and stories. Other realities.
At lunch, Eric and I sit with the usual group—all losing their freaking minds about
Oklahoma
—and eat pizza. Midway through a story of Kadeem’s, Eric’s phone buzzes.
He glances at the number, gets up, and takes it outside. I try not to freak out.
I fail.
When he comes back, he heads straight for me. “Jake.” His voice sounds odd, thick. “I’ve got to go pick up something for my dad, and I could use a hand. You want to come with?”
I look at him, the rest of them: Chris, Kadeem, Jeff. They’re mildly curious. I want to say something. Do something, in case the news is bad.
I look over at Rachel, at the other table. She’s watching me too, eyebrows down. She doesn’t smile this time. But neither do I. I can’t manage it.
I stand up. “Sure. See you guys later.” I hold up a hand, and they all say good-bye. Go back to their pizza, their jokes. I look at Rachel again … then go.
When we get outside, Eric strides ahead, jerky, all the way to his car at the far end of the lot, and unlocks the doors without a word. We get in. He turns to face me, the freckles standing out on his cheeks.
“Tell me,” I say.
“There was an attempt to kidnap Myka. She’s okay, I want you to know that first. But it was a serious attempt. They were armed. We think they were trying to take her as leverage to get you.”
Fear surges up, clawing at me. Myka. “She’s okay,” I repeat, like a robot.
“We stopped them without her knowing anything had happened. She’s completely fine. I just checked, and your mom’s fine, safe in her office.”
I give him a long, searching look. “I’m checking myself.”
“Jake,” he says, sharp. “No.” I ignore him. I find the note in my wallet, pinch it between my fingers. Go to Myka.
She’s sitting in class at Nysmith, in a circle of chairs. There’s a teacher—a tall man with a dark ponytail—in the center chair, talking about physics. Vectors, describing projectiles with numbers. Myka stops, pauses when she senses me. Love you, I think, as hard as I can. Everything’s okay. Everything will be okay. She calms, as she always has.
I come out of it. Eric’s watching me, his expression like a rumble of thunder. Ominous.
I don’t know what to do with my hands. They feel huge, awkward. “She’s okay. Now tell me the rest.”
He sighs, life hissing out of him. He looks old.
“Dr. Miller confirmed that the men following your mother weren’t ours. These obviously weren’t ours. They’re targeting your family, and we still don’t know who they are.” He pauses. “We can’t contain it, not fast enough to guarantee your safety, or theirs.”
I stare through the glass at the huddle of brick buildings I know so well, where I’ve spent most of my days for four years.
“It’s over. Isn’t it? Liesel said that’s it?” I look at him. If I didn’t know already, it’s there, in his eyes.
“Dr. Miller has determined it’s become too difficult to control. It’s dangerous, for all of you. With you gone, with no doubts about that, they will leave your family alone. It’s the only way now.”
With me gone.
No,
screams a thousand parts of my brain.
No no no no.
Gone.
I knew this could happen, since last night. Since before that, if I admit it to myself. I knew it might come to this if I wanted them to be safe, if I wanted to fulfill all my promises. I didn’t think it would be so soon. It’s over. Last night was my last with my family. My last night out here.
My God.
“Swear to me,” I say, fierce. “If I go away, go where you want, you’ll keep them safe. Nothing will happen to them.”
He extends his hand, and I shake it. Both our palms are damp. “I swear. Absolutely.”
I breathe in, out. “Okay.”
It’s done. That simple. And that excruciatingly hard.
We don’t speak for a while. I don’t want to step past this moment. I don’t want to go any further. But I have to.
“What happens now?”
Eric’s under control again, professional. His voice is perfectly even. “Ana is on her way, with the van. She’ll give you something to put you out. Then you’ll be transported to a secure facility.”
“
Unconscious
?”
He makes a face. “It’s protocol, and necessary. I don’t even know where you’re going, Jake. That’s why it’s secure.”
I can’t wrap my head around it. Any of it. Except one thing. “My family? What will they think happened to me? Do I just disappear?”
He shifts. Looks down.
“Eric.”
He meets my eyes head-on. “The story is we went for a drive, you and me. And I was reckless, or drunk, or distracted. They’ll have a reason. I drove the car into a tree, and it exploded. We’ll both be dead, burned beyond recognition. But we’ll be identified. There won’t be any doubt.”
“They’ll think I’m
dead
?” The word scrapes out of my mouth.
Dead
. “I didn’t think … but you can’t tell them that. It will kill them.”
“No, it won’t.” He’s firm now. “That’s the point, Jake. It’ll be awful, but clean. Far better than you being missing, the uncertainty, searches. They’ll live through it. Keep living. They’ll get past it. But most important, your enemies will believe you’re dead. And your family will be safe.”
I think of how hard it had been to lose Dad. How goddamned hard it will be for the two of them, alone. I won’t even be able to tunnel to Myka again, or she’ll know I’m there, still alive.
But we
had
gone on, after Dad was gone. They would too. Jesus Jesus Jesus.
“Can I see them again?” I ask. Plead. “One more time? Can we drive by or something, just to see?”
“I’m sorry. No. But you’re doing the right thing. It will be best for everyone, in the end. Now.” He clears his throat. “It’s time. I need you to give me your personal effects, for the cover. Phone, keys, watch.”
“Not the watch. The watch goes with me.”
He sighs. “But you always wear it. If they don’t find it…” He sees my face, stops. “Okay. We’ll think of something for the watch. But give me the rest.”
I give him my phone, keys, backpack. I don’t give him Dedushka’s ring, a solid lump in my pocket. I consider it, letting Dedushka believe I’m dead too. But some small part of me wants him to know. Wants someone to know I didn’t die in a meaningless car crash today. That I’d done this voluntarily, for them. He’ll know, when he sees wherever I go. He won’t be able to get me, but he’ll know.
Suddenly Rachel comes out the front doors. She doesn’t have a coat on, and her arms are crossed over her chest, like she’s protecting herself from the cold. She stops there on the sidewalk, searching around the parking lot.
She’s looking for me.
“She knows,” I whisper.
Eric was watching her too, but that makes him whip toward me. “She knows? You told her about us? My god, Jake—”
“No.” I stare at her hard, like I can beam thoughts into her head from here.
I’m here. Come save me.
“I didn’t say anything. She knows something’s wrong. She senses it.” She bites her lip, and she looks so cold. Alone.
I’m going to be alone.
“I’m going to go talk to her,” I say, reaching for the door handle.
Kiss her good-bye. One last kiss before—
“Jake,
no
.”
Rachel turns and hurries back in, and the moment is lost. I can’t go now.
By the end of today, she’ll think I’m dead.
Ana’s van swings into the parking lot and pulls up behind us. Eric gets out and speaks to her for a while, heads close, and then she opens the back of the van. He opens my door.
I get out and walk the few steps, breathe the air, feel the winter sun thin on my head. I look back once at Virginia High, then at Ana’s face, solemn next to Eric’s.
I wonder if I should run, now. If I should go back to the cafeteria and tell everyone what’s going on here. If I should get in my car and drive away.
I wouldn’t get anywhere. I know that. They wouldn’t let me. The choice is past.
“Quickly,” she says.
I climb up into the van. Eric reaches up to shake my hand again. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Jacob Lukin. I’m sorry it had to end this way.”
I shake it, let go. Then Ana gets in and shuts the doors with a click. She opens a metal cabinet and takes out a small hypodermic needle, loads it carefully from a bottle.
“I said before you were brave,” she says quietly. “You are. You are doing a very brave thing for your family.”
I can’t answer.
“I will stay with your family, for a while. I will help them. I promise you that.”
I nod, breathe. In, out. In, out. Life is breath, heartbeat, my clenched fists.
I can’t do this. I can’t.
She presses her hands, cool, on my cheeks. Then she pulls her hands away, studies me. “Ready?”
In, out. In, out. I close my eyes. “Ready.”
The needle pricks, then stings as she pushes it into my arm. A cold tingle rushes through my veins. Then there’s nothing.
“Underground” by Redlight King
When I wake up I’m alone, lying on a bed in a dim room. I listen: no sound but a low electric hum. No movement.
I push myself up on my elbows and lights come on. I squint against the god-awful glare of fluorescents.
The room is stark white, the size of an average hotel room. No windows. There’s the bed, attached to the wall, and a short dresser. A single black armchair in the opposite corner pointed at a flat-screen TV on the wall. White tile floor. A white door that might lead to a closet or a bathroom. A table with two chairs in the front corner. Next to that, a floor-to-ceiling panel of smoky glass I can’t see through. A door, I guess. There’s no knob, no handle for opening it from the inside, though there’s a card reader like before, and something that looks like an intercom box. No switches for lights. There are two cameras mounted near the ceiling on opposite corners, red lights on.
Welcome home, Jake.
I want to throw up. But that might be the effects of the tranquilizer.
At least I’m still wearing my own clothes and Dad’s watch. I stick my hand into my pocket. Dedushka’s ring is gone, replaced by an odd, bumpy shape. I pull it out with a jingle, cupped in my hand. Ana’s bracelet. She must have taken the ring after I was out, slipped this into my pocket instead.
I can’t figure it out at first, still groggy. Then I realize: it’s an object. With the bracelet I can tunnel to her, make sure Mom and Myk are okay.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle seeing them, what I’m putting them through. But she gave me the option. It was a generous, thoughtful gesture. And probably will get her in deep trouble if Liesel finds out about it.
I stuff it back in my pocket as the door slides open.
“Jacob.” Liesel holds out her hands, palms down, as she walks toward me, like she expects me to take them.
I don’t. In the end I agreed to this. I’m here. But I don’t have to be happy about it. I sit up, prop my back against the wall. The room dips, swims.
Liesel drops her hands and settles herself on the bed next to me, ponytail swinging. Just like that first night at home.
I look for signs of satisfaction—that she’s pleased she got what she wanted all along—but to her credit, I don’t see any. She sets a hand on top of mine. “I am sorry it had to be this way. We’ll do our best to make you comfortable here. And safe, of course.”
“My family?” My voice cracks, and I hate it. “Do they already think—?”
