Middle Ground

  We opened the metal door and we trickled, one by one, into the basement, then we hurried past the generator and around the corner into the hallway. I opened the stairwell entrance using one of Gabe’s keycards and put in the access code.

  My heart was pounding and my hands shook as I tried to type in the code. I imagined Richard Vaughn, Dr. Stevenson, and the other staff members sitting around and willingly plotting how to destroy people—how to treat kids like psychological experiments. I held on to that image with my mind and let it carry me forward.

  I opened the door, and ten of the recruits swept by, their steps light. I looked down at my watch: 5:13. We had five minutes left. We quickly climbed four flights of stairs to the ground floor and waited. I stood between Justin and Clare. Molly and Pat were a few steps below.

  “Something’s going to get mucked up,” I whispered.

  “They know what they’re doing,” Justin told me. I looked at my watch again. Four minutes. Justin never once checked the time. He was taking long, calm breaths. I wondered if he was counting.

  The tranq guns we used were silenced, so we had no way of hearing the shots. Voices came over our radios and told us two of the guards were down. One of our recruits was down as well, they told us. I pressed my back against the wall. Trying to stand completely still takes more effort than running. My muscles ached and time slowed to a stop.

  Nothing happened. I looked at my watch. Three minutes. Sweat rolled down my neck. We should have planned better. We should have come up with other options. Just when I convinced myself we were caught, Jake’s voice came over the radio. He told us we were clear.

  Justin already had the door open and we followed him out to the lobby. We turned the corner, and a security guard was sprawled on the floor, next to a desk chair. Justin didn’t hesitate; he moved like he knew this place as well as me. He took the guard’s hand and swiped his fingerprint and then used codes Gabe gave us to unlock the students’ doors and disengage the alarms. Two more recruits were coming through the entrance doors, dragging security guards that had been stationed at the kiosk and the office building. If all went according to plan, they would join the rest of the staff in a few minutes. I looked down at my watch just as it turned 5:18. I inhaled the first deep breath I had taken in hours.

  Justin mumbled something into his headset and we followed him outside, across the courtyard to the office building. The door was unlocked and the rest of our group hurried in. All I could hear was my heart beating. It pounded in my ears and shook against my ribs. I had to remind myself to breathe. We gathered together in the lobby.

  This was it. I’d fought an uphill battle to reach this summit. I had finally made my way to the top and was ready to take in the view.

  I looked down the hall and knew the conference center was at the far end, around the corner. We could hear voices trickling through the empty space. I stared down the gray hallway, lit up with advertisements, and stalled, but I felt Justin’s hand on my arm. He was grinning. Beaming. I forgot how much he loved this.

  “No hesitating with me, remember?” he whispered. “This is the fun part.”

  “Fun,” I whispered back. I glanced around at my friends and they each gave me one last nod of encouragement. I turned and walked forward. My spine naturally straightened. My chin rose up. With each step I felt a wave of determination. We pushed ahead and I stopped trying to muffle my footsteps. Justin walked next to me. There was no point in hiding now; we were in. It was time to make our presence known. I could feel my walk turn into more of a strut.

  “I get Vaughn,” Justin mumbled. When we were at the door, he kicked it open, and we were met by a series of gasps and shrieks. Two staff workers jumped up from the table, but they weren’t quick enough. Justin had already fired a shot, and Molly took out the other. The workers fell forward on the table and smashed their faces into their flipscreens, then rolled to the floor, toppling chairs over with a crash. I raised my gun and pointed it straight at Dr. Stevenson, who sat at the end of the table. The rest of our group streamed in and each one of us raised a gun at a target, daring people to move.

  “Stay in your seats and put your hands where we can see them,” Justin said calmly. A few people did exactly as he said but others froze.

  “Now!” he demanded, and a wave of shaking hands fluttered up in the air above shocked faces. “You don’t move without permission. You don’t speak unless I address you,” Justin ordered. Molly swung a backpack off her shoulder and unzipped it. Inside were eighteen plastic syringes that glowed with bright orange liquid. Just looking at the drug made my stomach churn.

  Richard sat at the head of the table, his mouth clenched shut like a fist. Justin pointed the gun at him and took a few steps closer.

  “You didn’t invite us to your meeting,” Justin said. “But we have a few concerns of our own to discuss.”

  Richard’s face fell into a sneer. “Justin Solvi,” he said with a knowing glare. “We finally meet. I was starting to think you were a hoax. Hiding behind secret identities. Hiring other people to do the dirty work for you. It’s pathetic that so many people worship a man who’s too much of a coward to ever show his face.”

  I glared at Richard. He knew how to mess with people’s emotions. It was his weapon. But his words bounced right off Justin.

  “I show my face everywhere but on a screen,” Justin informed him.

  Richard’s eyes searched the room and then settled on mine.

  “I warned you,” I said to him. “Next time, you should take a rebellious teenage girl a little more seriously,” I added.

  Molly walked around the table and told all the staff members to pull up their sleeves. I looked around the room at the stunned faces of Connie and a few other workers I recognized. I met Gabe’s eye for a split second and he slowly got up from his seat and joined us, standing against the wall, next to Clare. Richard watched him and shock passed over his face as he registered the traitor among his staff.

  “All it takes is one person,” Justin said to Richard. “We’re freeing the entire center. Your methods haven’t been working because people are stronger than you. Now we have eight hundred witnesses to attest to what’s been going on in here.”

  Richard was calm. “You won’t be able to prove anything,” he said. “You’ve wasted your time and endangered all of these kids. All that’s been going on here is safe and necessary rehabilitation.”

  “Is that what you call the deaths of students?”

  “This is a clinic,” Richard said tightly. “Kids in here are sick. People die in clinics all the time.” The rest of the staff was silent, all looking at Richard.

  Molly began the injections, one by one.

  “What the hell is going on?” Richard demanded as Molly stuck Connie’s arm with a needle.

  “Just giving you all a taste of your own medicine,” Molly said.

  “It’s just the Cure,” I said flatly. “There’s no physical effects. We want to help you open your mind.”

  I kept the barrel of my gun aimed at Dr. Stevenson. One of the staff members made a lunge for Molly, but before he could touch her, he slumped down and hit his forehead on the table and then rolled out of his seat. His body fell limp on the floor, stunned from the tranquilizer gun.

  Justin turned his gun back to Richard. “Anybody else want to object?” he asked. The room was sullen and silent in response. The DC staff sat like stiff columns, too scared to move.

  “Be careful,” Richard said, looking at me. “This all goes back to your father. He signed all the legal documents when I designed this facility. It’s all under his name.” Richard smiled.

  “You’re bluffing,” I said.

  He smiled wider. “It won’t even come back to me. According to the legal terms, I’m simply a sponsor. Besides, do you really think the public can afford to question me?”

  I stared back at him. My hands started to shake.

  “This is your father’s head, not mine,” Richard informed me. “Are you re
ady to turn him in? He’ll be executed for this.”

  I swallowed and looked at Justin but he just shook his head.

  “Wait,” I said when Molly approached Richard. “I want the honor.” I grabbed the syringe from her hand and headed to Richard and told him to roll up his sleeve. He glared at me, and his mouth pinched into a frown.

  “You won’t get away with this,” he hissed.

  Justin raised his gun and pointed it at Richard. “Neither will you,” he said. “Now pull up your sleeve or I’ll do it for you.”

  Richard shoved his sleeve up his arm. I pierced the needle through the soft skin below his shoulder and pressed down on the syringe with satisfaction as I watched the orange liquid flow inside. His arm flinched from the needle.

  Once the drugs were administered, we ordered everyone to stand up and head down the hall to the dormitory. The staff met each other’s eyes with concern.

  “To the imagery rooms,” I informed them. We escorted them down the hallway in a single-file line, and they moved slowly, their hands clasped behind their heads. Justin called for a couple of the recruits to go back for the guards who were knocked out. As we approached the door, we could hear a storm building strength outside. It sounded like thunder approaching. I was the first person to reach the metal doors and when I pushed them open the roar from outside was deafening.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  All the inmates were standing in the courtyard; eight hundred bodies were huddled around the office building. They separated on each side of the doors to form a narrow path between the office and the dorms.

  All of them looked skinny, their physical bodies still bouncing back from the treatment. The guys had long, scraggly hair and the start of scruffy beards. The girls were haggard and pale. But all the students’ eyes were alive and untamed. Their faces were determined. And their voices were pissed off.

  Cries of outrage thundered through the air around us. The staff members bent their heads as if they were trying to dodge hail, and some of them covered their ears to protect them from the flood of screams.

  We slowly pushed our way through. Students berated the staff. They pumped their fists and a few of them lunged out and had to be restrained by recruits who were working like security guards holding off the angry mob.

  Justin didn’t force the staff forward quickly. He allowed this to be a slow progression. He made them listen and look and absorb all the hate pouring out from kids they had been abusing. I felt chills rush over my body. It was like a public stoning. I watched the staff wither and cower.

  We made our way to the dormitory and onto the counseling floor. We divided them up; each staff member was assigned to an imagery room. Justin and I escorted Richard, one on each side of him. We opened the door and Justin waved him in. Before the door shut he turned and glared at us, sweat rolling down his forehead, his eyes narrow.

  “This isn’t over,” he told us.

  “You’re right,” Justin said. “We’re just getting started.” With that, Justin shoved him in the room and slammed the door. Once everyone was inside we looked around for Gabe. He was standing at the end of the hall, a little flustered from all the chaos. MindReaders were draped over his arm.

  “The screens are ready,” he said. “The MindReaders are programmed. They’ll be reliving M-Twenty-Eight for the next eight hours.”

  Justin shook his head. “I don’t want you to download it,” he said. “I don’t want to stoop to their level. The imagery screens will play whatever messed-up thoughts are in their minds right now. That should be terrifying enough.”

  Gabe nodded and looked relieved to hear this. We all turned down the hallway, heading for the stairs. When we got outside, the DC students were being separated into groups. It wasn’t time to celebrate yet. Something in my gut told me this had been the easy part.

  Justin grabbed my arm. “You’re getting a ride up the coast with Pat. You guys can take off,” he told me. “I’ll handle it from here.”

  I narrowed my eyes because I knew what he was trying to do. Now that our plan had worked, his only concern was to keep me safe. I didn’t want to take the easy way out. I wasn’t scared.

  “I’m not leaving here until I know that every student is out.”

  Justin motioned for Clare to go ahead and she ushered a line of students through the dormitory to the basement.

  “You’ve done enough, Maddie,” he said. “You risked your life for six months. I just want you out of here. Okay? Do this for me.” People swarmed around us.

  “Let me finish this,” I said. “I’m not trying to be a hero; it’s just something I need to do so I can let this go. I want to be the last one out of here. It’s personal for me.” We were getting pushed along with kids now.

  He couldn’t argue with me on this point. He sighed. “Fine, then I’ll stay back here with you,” he said. “We’ll switch some people around.”

  “There isn’t time. Just get out of here. You’re in charge of the most kids.”

  “Justin,” Clare shouted. “Your group’s ready to move.” Justin looked over at me. His expression was skeptical.

  “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you on the coast,” I said.

  Justin fixed his jaw and nodded, knowing it was a waste of time to argue. He leaned down to kiss me.

  “If anything happens, I want you to run, okay? Keep running. I’ll come back for you.” I nodded. “And trust yourself,” he told me. “If it feels crazy, it’s probably right.” He took off after Riley and the rest of his group.

  Pat and I waited in the courtyard while students trickled out, gliding like a long, green caterpillar through the dormitory entrance and downstairs to the subway tunnels. We worked as ushers to keep the lines moving. Pat told me we had a van waiting for us and any stragglers left behind.

  Scott kept us updated on everyone’s status, notifying us when each group of students had safely left. The courtyard was emptying now. Clare and Gabe had left with their group on a shuttle bus. He notified us when Molly had gotten out safely and, finally, when Justin and Riley’s plane was loaded and ready to take off.

  “Should we start moving?” Pat asked.

  “When this is finished,” I said, standing my ground. I looked around at the buzzing fences and still had the eerie feeling I was being watched. When the courtyard was silent, the ground dusted with footprints, Pat and I moved to the dorm entrance.

  “Okay, you’re clear,” Scott said. “We did a head count and everyone’s accounted for except you two,” Scott told us. “Get out of there.”

  We hurried down the stairwell, through the basement corridor, and out into the subway tunnel, following flares that were still glowing dimly from the other groups that moved out ahead of us. I asked Pat where the van was parked.

  “It’s two stops from here,” he said. “About a mile east.”

  I checked my watch impatiently. A mile hike through the subway lines wasn’t my idea of a fast getaway. I felt my intuition kick in, and I picked up and started to run. Pat kept up with me.

  We swerved through a labyrinth of tunnels, passing cracks and eroded holes of rocks and cement where beams of light poured in from outside.

  We turned another corner and Pat said we were getting close. He pointed to a bright beam of light in the distance and my feet picked up speed.

  “We did it,” I said, and the words tasted victorious on my tongue. “We actually did it.” Maybe I was a natural at this. I let my imagination fly—to news stations finally broadcasting the truth about digital school, to all the detention centers being closed, to digital school finally becoming a choice, not a requirement.

  “You guys, stop.” Scott’s voice snapped me out of my daydream like a foot tripping me. My feet stuttered to a stop. “The cops picked up on this. It just came up on the dispatch.”

  I stared out at the sunlight ahead of us, so close I could see dust circling inside of it.

  “Is this a joke?” I panted.

  “Somebody tipped off the van’
s location,” Scott said. “They’re headed there now, you need to turn around.”

  I tried not to panic and told Scott we could hide out in the tunnels. We’d be fine. We’d wait for Justin to bring the plane back for us.

  “You need to get out of the tunnels,” Scott insisted. “They’re sending a search squad down there. Someone ratted us out.”

  “You got any bright ideas of where to go?” Pat asked as we turned back the way we had come.

  “Shit,” Scott replied.

  “Anything else?” I muttered. Scott tracked our location using our earpods and looked for possible exits. There was enough daylight seeping in from ground cracks to light our way now, and our eyes adjusted to the dimness. We sprinted through the tunnels, our tennis shoes padding heavily on the concrete. Fear trickled its sharp fingers down my back. Pat asked Scott if he found anything.

  “At the next fork, go right,” he told us. “The only place you might have a shot of hiding is the Hollywood River exit.”

  We followed his advice and turned down the tunnel. I asked Scott what we’d find at the exit. He said it was barren. There was an old research lab down there, but it closed down years ago. He said we shouldn’t find anybody. Pat suddenly grabbed my arm and twisted me around to face him. He turned off his earpod and motioned for me to do the same. I took it out of my ear, still panting.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “This is crazy,” Pat hissed. “Why would Scott send us to a dead end?”

  I glared at him. There wasn’t time to think. I told him maybe Scott was right, that the police wouldn’t expect us there.

  “We need to trust him,” I said. “He’s the one with eyes right now. We’re the ones in a rat race.” I started moving again.

  “I think he’s setting us up,” Pat said, keeping pace with me. “I’ve never trusted Scott. Maybe he’s the one that turned us in.”

  I shook my head. I couldn’t believe it. “He wouldn’t,” I said. I prayed.

  “I say we go back to the van,” Pat pressed. “If there actually are cops, I can hold them off,” he said, and pointed to his guns, one strapped at either side of his waist.