The Prisoner of Cell 25

  There were shelves of video games. The newest on the market, some not yet on the market, and some I’d only dreamed of. I thought of how excited Ostin would be to see them. I only wished that he were there to play them with me.

  In spite of all the distractions, all I could think about was my impending decision. What did Hatch mean by “demonstrations of loyalty”? What would he require of me? Something told me that his

  “simple commitment” was anything but simple.

  My second night, as I lay in bed, I made my decision. If they would let my mother and my friends go, I would stay. There was no other choice to be made.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Ostin’s Plan

  Ostin didn’t sleep the first night. His stomach was growling and he was homesick. Taylor came and sat by him. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.

  “No.”

  “Are you afraid?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Me too.” She put her arm around him. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry that I wasn’t very nice to you back in Idaho.”

  “I thought you were nice. Except at that party when you kept threatening to reboot me.”

  Taylor looked down. “Maddie’s party. That seems like a million years ago. It’s funny how the things that were so important back then don’t matter anymore. Maybe Hatch is right: we have been brainwashed.”

  “Hatch isn’t right,” Ostin said. “Hatch is a devil. It’s like my mother always says, ‘the devil will tell a thousand truths to sell one lie.’”

  Taylor slowly nodded. “Want to know something?”

  Ostin looked at her. “What?”

  “I was jealous of you.”

  “You were jealous of me?” he said.

  Taylor scratched her head. “You’re so smart. I’ve always wished that I were that smart.”

  “But you get good grades.”

  “You don’t really have to be smart to get good grades. Just good at doing what they tell you to do.”

  Ostin slowly shook his head. “How could you be jealous of me?

  You have everything. You’re like the most popular girl in the universe. Everyone loves you.”

  “Not everyone. Being popular isn’t always easy. You make enemies. And they’re usually people who pretend to be your friend.

  Frenemies.”

  “I never thought of that.”

  “So maybe I do know something you don’t.” She sighed. “It all just seems so stupid now. What am I going to wear to Jessica’s party, what if Megan wears the same thing, who is Paul going to ask to the prom?

  It’s all so meaningless.”

  Ostin put his head down. “I wish those were still our problems.”

  Taylor said, “Me too. What do you think they’re going to do to Michael?”

  “They’ll try to break him.”

  “It’s my fault he’s here.”

  “No, it’s not. I mean, he would have come after you, but he would have come anyway. They have his mother. He’s got a great mother.”

  He touched her arm. “It’s not your fault.”

  She smiled sadly. “Thanks.”

  “Besides, even if it was, we’re a club, right? All for one and one for all.”

  “Yeah. I’d just rather be the one for all instead of the all for one.”

  Ostin sat back and breathed out heavily. “You know, there’s something about all this I don’t understand. Why have they kept these kids here for so long?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ian, Abigail, McKenna. They clearly aren’t going to convert. So why don’t they just”—he hesitated—“you know, get rid of them?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Suddenly Ostin’s eyes widened. “The only reason you keep something around is because it’s valuable. That’s it.”

  “What?”

  “If they’re valuable, they’ll protect them.” His whole face animated. “I have an idea how to get out of here. But I’ll need everyone’s help.”

  Taylor’s eyes lit with hope. “Let’s go talk to them.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  The Attempt

  In the darkness of the cell, Ian looked like a ghost, the pale glow of his skin rising a half foot taller than Ostin. He stood with his arms crossed at his chest, staring down at Ostin. “That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.”

  “Keep your voice down,” Ostin said. “They’ll hear us.”

  “You don’t tell me what to do. In here, I’m in charge.”

  “You’re not in charge of me.”

  “Yes, I am. This is my turf.”

  “No, you’re not my boss.”

  “Are you dissing me?”

  “I’ll diss you if I want. I’m not afraid of you, bat boy.”

  Ian got in Ostin’s face. “What did you call me?”

  “You two knock it off,” Taylor said. “He was just trying to help.”

  “Keep out of it,” McKenna said.

  There was an audible whirr as three of the five video cameras panned across the room.

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” Taylor said. “I’ll fry your brain.”

  “Try it,” McKenna said, her skin beginning to brighten. “I’ll cook you.”

  “You’ll never get a chance, lightbulb.”

  “Will you all stop it?” Abigail said. “It’s bad enough we have them hating us.”

  Ian growled, “So, chunky soup here is dissing me for being blind?”

  “Chunky soup?” Ostin said, “Take it back.”

  Ian uncrossed his arms. “Make me.”

  “I will.”

  “I’d like to see you try, doughboy. The only exercise you get is unwrapping Twinkies. I’ll roll you out like pizza dough.”

  “You’re going to pay for that.”

  “Ooh, scary,” Ian said.

  Ostin rushed at him and knocked him over by the door. Ian groaned as he hit the ground.

  “What the . . . McKenna!” Ian shouted. “Taylor’s doing something to me. She’s messing with my brain.”

  A harsh voice came over the speaker system. “Occupants of cell B, stop what you’re doing, immediately.”

  Ian began screaming. “Abi, McKenna, stop the new girl! Stop her.”

  “That does it,” McKenna said. “You’re going to pay.”

  “Bring it on, Day-Glo,” Taylor said. “I can take both of you.”

  The girls surrounded Taylor. Ian and Ostin were locked in combat when the door clicked and opened. Two guards ran into the room.

  “Now!” Ostin said.

  McKenna suddenly burst into a brilliant light, temporarily blind-ing the guards. Taylor turned and focused on the two men as Ian charged at them, knocking them both over. Abigail and McKenna quickly jumped on the men, pulling their Mace from their belts and spraying them in the face with it. Taylor kept rebooting them over and over and the men flailed about confused and gasping from the Mace.

  “Ostin,” Ian said, “come help me.” They rolled the first guard over and handcuffed his hands behind his back, then dragged him inside; next they handcuffed and dragged in the second one and stuffed both of their mouths with toilet paper. Ostin pulled their magnetic keys from their pockets.

  “Got the keys?” Ian asked.

  Ostin held them up. “Got ’em.”

  “Let’s go,” Ian said. “Give us some light, McKenna.”

  “On it.”

  The four of them followed Ian out into the hallway, pulling the cell door shut behind them.

  “Which way?” Ostin asked.

  “The guards came from this direction,” Ian said.

  “How can you tell?” Taylor asked.

  “I’m an electric hound dog,” Ian said. “People leave electronic im-prints when they move.”

  They ran down the hall toward a service elevator. “Oh, oh,” Ian said. “They’re coming.” Suddenly an alarm went off.

  “Monkey butts,” Ostin said.

  “Here, give me the key.” Ian
opened the elevator and they all rushed in.

  “Go to the second floor. That’s the administration level. They won’t expect that.”

  Taylor hit the button. The door shut and the elevator began to move. The elevator hit the second floor and paused but the door didn’t open. Suddenly it began moving up again.

  “What’s it doing?” Abigail asked.

  “I don’t think we’re controlling it anymore,” Ostin said.

  The elevator climbed all the way to the fourth floor and froze.

  Ian’s head dropped. “We’re dead.”

  The door opened. There were at least fifteen guards standing in front of them with guns drawn. “On your knees!” one shouted. “And put your hands behind your head.”

  “Taylor?” Ostin asked.

  Taylor squinted. “There’s too many of them.”

  Ian sighed and knelt down. The rest followed.

  “You are smart,” Ian said to Ostin. “That’s the closest to freedom anyone here has ever got.”

  Ostin sighed. “Close only counts in horseshoes and nuclear weapons.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Relocation

  On the second floor Hatch had been watching the escape attempt unfold on the screens in front of him. “Well done, Mr. Welch,” he said. “Split them up. Put the human boy with the GPs.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  As he pushed down on the intercom button a voice came over his phone. “Your call, sir.”

  “Thank you.” He pushed the button again. “This is Hatch.”

  The British voice sounded annoyed. “What do you need?”

  “The BA money has made it into all the accounts. We’re filter-ing it through Switzerland and the Cayman Islands. Our EC has been withdrawn from Dubai and relocated to our Italian compound.

  We’re ready to commence evacuation of the Pasadena facility.”

  “What is the status of the Vey boy?”

  “I’ve given him two days to pick a side. He’s got eighteen hours left.”

  “And what side will he pick?” The voice was monotone but still managed to convey the intended threat.

  “He’ll be with us. He has too much to lose.”

  “I hope you’re right. About the relocation, the board is rightfully concerned that you follow protocol. We want no attention drawn to our move.”

  “Of course. We’ll evacuate the children first, then we’ll drug and transport the GPs to our Lima facility. Our 727 will be sufficient for that. We’ll destroy all records and quietly renovate the building. We already have the city building permits for renovation and our leas-ing company has legitimate tenants ready to occupy the facility—a private school.”

  “Very well. Then I’ll see you in Rome in a few months.”

  “I look forward to it. After the last month, it will be nice to relax a few days.”

  “Just don’t plan on too much of it. We’re ready to launch phase two.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  The Contract and a “Simple” Demonstration of Loyalty

  It was late afternoon of my third day in captivity when two guards came to my room. I was lying on my bed playing a video game when the door opened and they stepped inside, followed by Nichelle. I hated seeing her. Actually, I hated her. She always made me tic.

  “Time to go,” the tallest guard said, not as politely as the last time they’d come for me.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “Dr. Hatch has requested your presence.”

  “Let me get my shoes on.” I put on my shoes, then walked out of my room with one guard in front and one in back with Nichelle walking at the rear guard’s side. They walked right past Hatch’s secretary and into his office. Hatch was at his desk. He stood as I entered.

  “How are you, Michael?” he asked.

  “Tired,” I said.

  “I would imagine. You’ve had enough on your mind to cause anyone insomnia.” He turned to the guards. “You may go.”

  “Yes, sir,” the guards said in unison.

  To my surprise he said to Nichelle, “You too.”

  Nichelle looked at me. “Just try something,” she said.

  “Nichelle, that’s really not necessary.”

  She glared at me before following the guards out of the room.

  Hatch shook his head. “Sorry about that. What Nichelle lacks in tact she makes up for in unpleasantness.” His expression hardened. “So, down to business. Have you come to a decision?”

  My tics were acting up and I tried not to blink but couldn’t help it. “Yes, sir.”

  “And that is?”

  “If you’ll free my mother and my friends, I’ll join you.”

  He just stared at me until the silence became uncomfortable.

  “You know I can’t release Taylor,” he finally said. “She’s too dangerous. She knows too much.”

  “But that was our deal.”

  “No, you’ll recall that our deal was that I’m giving her to you. A much better scenario, I’d say.”

  I just looked at him. That was what he’d said.

  “I’m not trying to be difficult, Michael. But Taylor brought this on herself—and you. She’ll have to live with the consequences. But, with you joining us, I think she’ll come around and before too long she’ll join us back in the house. And, she’ll be yours.”

  I couldn’t help but wonder how he planned to ensure that.

  “But, of course, your mother will be set free immediately, as will Ostin and Jack. We’ll fuel up Jack’s car, give him some traveling money, and he can drive back home.”

  “What proof do I have of that?”

  “What proof would you have? Ostin can call you as soon as they’re on the road. And we’ll let you talk to your mother.” He leaned forward, extending his hand. “Do we have an agreement?”

  I looked down again for a moment, then stepped forward and took his hand. “Yes, sir.” We shook. Then he sat back in his chair.

  “Very well.” He pushed a piece of paper toward me. “I’d like you to sign this document, to convey your resolve.”

  I leaned over the desk and looked at the form.

  I, Michael Vey, do hereby enroll and subscribe as a full member of the Elgen Academy and promise to do whatever is required of me to promote and advance the academy’s work, mission, and objectives as long as my services are required.

  X ___________________________________________________

  I thought it was peculiar that he wanted me to sign something. It’s not as if anything signed by a fifteen-year-old would be legally binding.

  “You may use my pen.” Hatch held out to me a beautiful, gold-plated pen inset with rubies. I read the statement again, then signed beneath it. I pushed the document back to him with the pen.

  “Keep the pen,” he said. “A memento of a very special occasion.”

  He leaned back and examined the document. “‘I, Michael Vey, hereby enroll and subscribe as a full member of the Elgen Academy and I promise to do whatever is required of me to promote and advance the academy’s work, mission, and objectives as long as my services are required.’ That’s quite a commitment you’ve just made.”

  He set it back down and looked into my eyes. “Quite a promise. Unfortunately, promises are broken all the time. Like you, I need some proof. I need to see what’s behind your commitment.”

  “What proof would you have?” I asked, using his words back at him.

  “Simple. We’re going to take a little test. Fortunately, unlike Mr.

  Poulsen’s biology class, this is one you don’t have to study for.” He stood and walked around his desk. “This way, please.”

  I followed him out of his office. The guards saluted him, then fell back to my side, Nichelle trailing behind all of us. My mind was reel-ing. What kind of test would this be?

  We went to the service elevator near the back of the building and all five of us entered. One of the guards pushed the button for D. I frowned. We were
going back down to the level where I had found Taylor. The elevator stopped and the door opened. Hatch stepped out and I followed him. We walked down the hall to the end of the corridor, past the cell with Ian and the girls. We turned left, then left again, and walked on to a metal door at the end of the hall. There was another guard standing by the door and he pulled open the door as we approached, exposing a long, cavernous room with bare white walls. I followed Hatch inside.

  In the center of the room was a chair bolted to the floor with a man in an orange GP jumpsuit sitting in it. The man’s arms and legs were clamped to the chair by metal straps, like an electric chair, and a metal brace circled around his neck below his electric vocal collar, holding him erect. He couldn’t move if he wanted to. The man in the chair had a hood over his head that fell to his chin.

  “So, Michael, you’ve told me that you’re now one of us and you’ve promised, as a full member of the academy, to do whatever is required to promote and advance the cause of our revolution. Here’s your opportunity to show me that you mean what you say.” He gestured toward the man. “Here’s your test.”

  I looked at the man, then back at Hatch. “I don’t understand.

  What’s my test?”

  Hatch walked up to the bound man and pulled off his hood. The man in the chair was not a man at all—it was Wade. “Simple, Michael. Electrocute him.”

  I looked at Wade as his eyes grew wide with fright. Suddenly he screamed out, “Please, no!” His outburst was followed by a scream of pain as blue-yellow electricity arced from his collar. Hatch shook his head in disgust. “Unless he decides to do it to himself.”

  I stared at Hatch, blinking like crazy. “How does killing Wade advance the work of the academy?”

  “That is not yours to question,” he said. “You committed to obey, now do as you’re told. As you promised.”

  “I won’t do it,” I said.

  Hatch sighed. “Michael, let me explain this better,” he said, motioning to a large screen that hung down from the corner of the room like a stalactite. “Clark, turn on the monitor please. Set it to channel 788.” The guard pushed several buttons and the monitor lit up.