Unbreakable (Unraveling)

  “It’s your job to handle this, both of you,” a male voice says. I think it’s Meridian, but I’m not entirely sure.

  I can’t see him—or any of the people talking to him in hushed tones. Unless I’ve damaged my ears, they must be at least a room away from us, because I can only hear them when their voices are raised.

  The girl at the computer looks at me. Our eyes meet, and she knows I’m awake.

  00:09:01:21

  She looks at the door and then back at me. She’s thinking—trying to make a decision about something. I can see it on her face, the way her lips are pressed together. I just don’t know what she’s planning.

  My pulse speeds up. It feels like it’s pounding directly in the ear I have against the carpet. I look at Barclay to see if I can get his attention, but he’s got his eyes closed. He’s either passed out or hurting too much to concentrate.

  The girl gets up from her desk and moves to the door that separates our rooms. She’s in jeans and a white sweater. If she didn’t have the bruises, she’d look so normal. It makes me wonder what she’s doing here. How she got roped into this.

  She hesitates and looks at the door to the hallway—the direction the voices are coming from.

  No one is in view.

  She rushes to my side, putting her hands under my shoulder and hip as she turns me a little—just enough so I have a better view of what’s coming, and then she presses a ballpoint pen into my hands. “I don’t have anything else,” she whispers, her attention still on the doorway.

  “How many of them are there?” I’m not sure what I can really do with a pen, especially if I’m still in restraints, but if I’m going to do anything, I need to know that much.

  “Right now?” she says, biting her lip. “They always have four guys who are like Secret Service or something. The governor and her husband, I mean. Tonight her cousin is here. He had a few people with him, but he sent them out. They’ll probably come back, though. And then this new guy showed up.”

  “So at best there’s eight of them,” I say. Not good odds. “At worst, maybe twelve?”

  She nods.

  “Where are we?”

  Her head tilts just slightly and she says, “Governor Worth’s house.”

  I’d already guessed that much. “No, I mean, the layout of the house, where are we?” Our best chance may be trying to escape while they think we’re still knocked out.

  “Second floor,” she whispers. “Near the back of the house.”

  Not what I wanted to hear. In the condition we’re in, the three of us aren’t going to be able to do a second-story drop and then get up and start running, and we’re obviously too far from a door.

  “I think they’re coming,” she says, and as she stands up, her left hand moves past my face. She’s wearing a gold ring on her ring finger, and she’s missing most of her thumbnail.

  The words pass my lips before I think too much about it. “What’s your name?”

  She glances back and smiles. “Renee,” she says, and then she’s through the doorway and back at her desk, looking at the computer.

  Brown hair, early twenties, half of a fingernail and a ripped sheet at the scene, Renee.

  Cecily said Renee Adams worked with computers somewhere downtown, but according to the stalker files we found on her, she worked an assortment of temp jobs during the day and otherwise spent a lot of time at home on her computer.

  Assorted temp jobs at big companies—ones with big databases and information that potentially could be worth something. If I wasn’t restrained or lying on the floor, I would be looking up whether those companies ever filed suits about information being stolen. I’d be looking into Renee Adams’s bank accounts and seeing what kind of major deposits were being made.

  I watch her type something into the computer, and I hear someone say, “How are you possibly going to fix this?” And I try to ignore the fact that I’d know that voice anywhere.

  It might be a stretch, but I wonder if Renee Adams is some kind of computer hacker.

  The bigger question, of course, is what kind of work she’s doing for the governor.

  But I don’t get a chance to ask, because she was right. Someone was coming.

  Now they’re here.

  00:08:55:26

  It’s Meridian, the governor herself, two of her bodyguards, and Deputy Director Ryan Struzinski.

  I push the ballpoint pen into my restraints, but they’re wire, not rope, and a pen isn’t going to do anything. I slip it into my sleeve. It still might be the only weapon I’ll get my hands on.

  Through heavy lids, I track Meridian and the governor’s movements. Based on the positioning—the bodyguards are flanking her, and evil Struz is trailing them—they’re the ones in charge.

  They’re also arguing. “Take care of the girl, and I’ll handle Taylor,” the governor says.

  “I can use her. She’s pretty enough—not anything special—but still. Someone will pay something for her. This one . . .” He kicks Barclay’s foot. “He’ll just be trouble.”

  My throat constricts as I realize what exactly they’re arguing about.

  What to do with us.

  Specifically, whether they should kill us. If my options are death or slavery, I’m not sure which one I’d vote for.

  They’re both unacceptable. I’m not ready to die—I promised my Struz that I would come home to my family. And I’m certainly not going to get shipped off to some other world where my free will would be stripped from me in whatever manner works best.

  I try to move my hands a little in the restraints. The wire bites into my wrist, but I have a little leeway. I have small hands—if I can compress them, make them a little smaller, I might be able to slip one of them out.

  “I can control him.” The governor laughs. “He’s just like Ryan, smart, ambitious, and hungry. We just have to find out what he wants.”

  “You’ve done such a bang-up job so far,” Meridian says.

  There’s a pause, and they must expect Struz’s evil twin to weigh in on the decision, because he says, “Don’t look at me.” His voice is low, gritty, and tired. “Just do whatever you’re going to do.”

  Meridian laughs. It’s not maniacal evil laughter or anything, but it’s cold, like he’s laughing because he’s supposed to, not because he understands humor. I shiver and focus harder on the restraints. I’ll try to get my left hand out first—the wire will undoubtedly slice it open in a few places, but it’ll leave my right hand—the hand I need—unscathed.

  “You play the innocent card so well,” Meridian says. “Especially for someone experimenting on kids.”

  “I never said I was innocent,” the deputy director says, the resignation in his voice coming out like disgrace.

  “Enough.” The governor crosses the room, toward Renee Adams and the computer. “Taylor wasn’t a problem until he met her. The girl is a bad influence. Just kill her and I’ll handle him.”

  Silence.

  I’m tempted to sit up and call bullshit. Tell her I was just a normal high-school junior with a bad attitude until Barclay showed up—that it was Barclay who came to my world and asked me for help. I don’t even want to be here in this stupid world with its ridiculous skyscrapers and people who spend their lives a hundred feet off the ground, like they’re better than everyone beneath them.

  But I stay still, and I let my indignation wrap itself around me—let it steady my hands and still my body. I hold on to it so it keeps my fear at bay.

  As bad as slavery would be, I’d still be alive.

  The silence stretches out. None of the men in the room make any protests, as if the argument is over.

  And why wouldn’t it be? Meridian might think it’s a waste to kill me, especially if he can get some money for me as a slave, but I haven’t proven to be all that weak and he’s probably already got enough money.

  I shift my eyes to Barclay, wishing I could reach him and try to wake him somehow. But when I see the blue of his eye
s through the bloody and swollen skin, I realize we’re in the same boat. He’s also been listening and faking being passed out.

  I try to communicate with him. I try to tell him, It’s now or never with my eyes. My only hope is that he’s figured out how to get out of his restraints as well.

  I’m not sure if he gets the message or not. He gives a slight shake of his head, whatever that means.

  “Well?” the governor says.

  “How about I just kill them both?” Meridian says.

  She makes a pouting noise, but she doesn’t object.

  My hands are sticky and warm from the blood, but I think I can get them out. If I’m going to do anything, it’s going to be right now. I’m not about to let Barclay or myself die without making some kind of move.

  “Get her up,” Meridian says, and one of the bodyguards is in front of me. “What? You want me to shoot her while she’s passed out?” He snorts. “Where’s the fun in that?”

  00:08:50:59

  The bodyguard slips his hands under my armpits. With my eyes closed, I picture the room and everyone in it.

  Farthest from me, about six or seven feet away, are the governor and one of her bodyguards. Renee Adams is behind them in the other room.

  Struz’s evil twin is lingering by the door, about five feet away.

  Meridian is directly in front of me, no more than a few feet, but just out of my reach.

  As the bodyguard lifts me up, I hold my breath and yank my left hand through the restraints.

  The pain is more than I would have imagined possible. At least three layers of skin from about half my hand come off, hot blood pours from my wrist to my fingertips, and I let out some kind of terrible yelp.

  But my hands are free.

  00:08:49:57

  I open my eyes.

  The bodyguard is trying to lean me against the desk. Meridian is behind him, his face blank.

  I shift my right hand and let the ballpoint pen drop out of my sleeve and into my fingers.

  I take a deep breath and think of my dad, of the lengths he would have gone to keep me safe. I think of Alex and how he looked at me when I asked him to take self-defense classes, how he said, I’m in. We won’t let anyone ever hurt you again. I think of Cecily and how she insisted on coming to IA with us, how she said, I was minding my own business, and some asshole with terrible breath grabbed me, stuck me with a needle, and pulled me through a black hole.

  Meridian draws his gun and taps it against his thigh.

  I think of Ben, of his family who might still be executed tomorrow, of how he might be dead or bleeding out somewhere.

  And I tell myself that it’s my life or this guy’s, and I have every right to do anything in my power to make sure it’s not me.

  I shift my grip on the pen, so the point is facing out.

  I tell myself that no matter what I do right now, it doesn’t make me as bad as them.

  The bodyguard turns to look at Meridian. His lips part like he’s about to say something, but I don’t give him a chance. While he’s not paying attention, I swing my right arm around and drive the pen straight into his right eye.

  00:08:46:56

  The bodyguard screams, drops me, and grabs for his eye. I move with him, using his body as a shield while I reach for the gun under his jacket.

  Over the screaming, someone shouts—or several people shout at one another, but I have no idea who’s saying what and I don’t care.

  My fingers close on the metal grip of the handle, and I pull the handgun out and turn to aim. I haven’t thought through exactly who I should be aiming at. But I don’t need to.

  Some kind of survival instinct drives me.

  Meridian is the target. The governor only thinks she’s in charge—he’s the most dangerous person here.

  I hear the shot as my finger squeezes the trigger.

  But my right arm suddenly stops working. It drops to my side, and the gun slips from my fingers.

  Confused, I look down at my arm. When I see the blood welling through the shirt covering my upper arm, I feel the pain.

  Someone swears, and I look up and see I’m not the only one bleeding. I got a shot off, but it was a bad one. It looks like all I did was graze Meridian’s shoulder.

  He grabs me by the throat and pushes me against the wall. Hard.

  But he doesn’t stop there. He relaxes his grip and slams me back again and again. Too many times to keep count. The pain each time my head hits the wall feels like something is exploding against me. I try to kick or claw at him, but it’s like my body is useless. I’ve done too much damage to myself, and I don’t have any leverage. All I succeed in doing is wiping some of the blood from my left hand onto his face.

  With his fingers pushing into my throat, and the weight of his hand over my windpipe, I’m out of air fast. Blackness edges my vision, like I’m about to pass out, and despite how weak I am, I reach up, wrapping my fingers around his hand, trying to pull it off my throat.

  Suddenly he stops, his grip relaxes slightly, and as the air rushes back into my lungs, my vision clears, and I realize the bodyguard is still screaming.

  Meridian raises his hand, and without a word, he fires three shots into the guy’s chest, and the screaming stops.

  “What—” the governor screams.

  “Keep making noise and I’ll shoot you, too,” he says.

  She snaps her mouth shut, but she’s not about to take threats from him either. It looks like she’s about to say something.

  But she doesn’t get the chance.

  A shout comes from downstairs, then a spray of gunfire.

  00:08:41:27

  Two men bring in Elijah and Ben. My breath catches at the sight of them. I don’t have time to wonder what they’re doing here together or why Elijah left the hospital. I’m just so relieved to see Ben alive that it floods through my body and makes me feel weak and warm.

  Their hands are restrained behind their backs. I wait for someone to bring Cecily in too, but she’s not there. I’m not sure what that means. She could be safe at the hospital; she could be somewhere else in the house; she could be injured somewhere or worse.

  I look at Ben.

  The position we’re in—that we’re both likely to be killed—doesn’t matter. He’s not bloody or unconscious or in an IA jail, and seeing that gives me hope.

  “We had a situation.” The guy who speaks looks like he’s in his sixties, and he’s not wearing the same Men in Black bodyguard uniform. He must be the governor’s husband.

  “Did we lose anyone?” the governor asks. Her husband nods.

  The governor gestures to the bodyguard who’s been here. “Go with him,” she says before she turns to the new one. “You stay.”

  The governor’s husband and one bodyguard leave the room, leaving Meridian, the governor herself, one remaining bodyguard, and evil Struz, who has been strangely quiet. If I wasn’t about to die, I’d be focused on the fact that we have even numbers.

  I look at Ben. He’s staring at me, and I think about what he said—how most of his decisions revolve around me. He must have burst in planning to save me, but he made a fatal error.

  He hadn’t prepared himself for the fact that if he was going to barrel in here, he’d need to pull the trigger first and ask questions later, and that means he portaled in here with a life-threatening disadvantage. And he got caught.

  “What is this?” Meridian says.

  The governor’s bodyguard clearly doesn’t get that the question is rhetorical. He starts to tell us that Ben and Elijah came out of nowhere and started attacking them. He doesn’t have a chance to finish.

  Meridian points his gun at Elijah first, and then he fires.

  Elijah grunts, stumbles back, and slumps to the ground. The bullet went into his bad leg. Blood wells up and coats the fabric of his jeans.

  “Ben!” I yell. I don’t know what I’m trying to do, if I said his name to warn him that Meridian’s aim has shifted to him, to tell him to run,
or something else entirely.

  But it doesn’t matter.

  I don’t have the chance to finish the thought.

  Meridian pulls the trigger twice, one bullet for each of Ben’s legs. He grunts with each impact and falls to the floor, his face twisting with the pain.

  My breath catches in my throat. I have to think of something, otherwise we’re all going to die here.

  Meridian tosses his gun to the ground.

  I can’t breathe again, only it’s not because of Meridian. Tears sting my eyes, and I gasp for air. All of the relief at seeing Ben alive and the hope that we might make it out, that we were so close—it’s gone now. And the emptiness it leaves behind is crushing. Now Ben is only going to get himself killed.

  “Wait!” Ben says, as the governor’s remaining bodyguard grabs his hands, pulls them behind his back, and wraps the wire around them. “Let her go. Kill me instead,” he says. “I’m the one you want.”

  I start to shake my head, since that’s a terrible idea.

  I’m not the only one who thinks so. Meridian says, “Why would I do that? I have you both.”

  He tightens his grip around my throat, and I renew my struggle against him as he pulls something that looks like a hunting knife from his pocket.

  “You caused me a lot of trouble,” he says to Ben. “Now you can watch her die before I kill you.”

  He lifts the knife to my neck.

  00:08:36:27

  With my back against the wall and the steel blade biting into my throat, there’s nowhere to go. My eyes take in the room one more time.

  To my right stands the governor with her arms folded across her chest, waiting for me to die. Behind her through the doorway, Renee Adams is cowering behind her computer monitor. Across from me, the dead bodyguard is on the ground, slumped on his side, one hand still holding his eye where I stabbed him. The other guard is standing next to Barclay, who’s got his back against the wall, a grimace on his face. Elijah is on the floor, blood staining his pants. He’s breathing normally, though, and glaring at Meridian. He doesn’t look like he’s going to die just yet. Struz’s evil twin is still loitering in the doorway.