I pressed my nose against the window screen and cupped my hands around my eyes, trying to get a better look. No movement. He wasn’t home.
Headlights and a loud motor approached and then another. The doors of eight identical green Humvees flew open, and men with guns filed out, quickly surrounding the house. I scurried to the bushes for cover, watching them beat on the door as I had just seconds before. When the soldiers couldn’t get an answer, they smashed open the door and entered the professor’s home. I peeked in through the window, watching as they pointed their flashlights at the bed. The sheets, pillows, and quilt were undisturbed. He wasn’t home and hadn’t been all night. After a few more minutes of searching, the soldiers retreated to their vehicles, and I sighed.
“Let’s go!” one of the soldiers yelled.
I froze when I realized one was lagging behind. With my back scraping against the sharp edges of the brick, I slid to the ground slowly, trying not to draw the straggler’s attention. A pair of black boots rounded the corner and stopped just inches from my hand. I closed my eyes.
You won’t see me. Just keep walking. My heart pounded, and I struggled to keep the air in my lungs while I verged on experiencing a full-blown panic attack. I didn’t fear what they would do to me if I were caught, but I feared what they would do to Cy if I didn’t save him.
I’d only been that frightened once before, just before one of my killers pressed the sharp edge of his knife into my arm. My mother was already lying on her side, the light in her eyes nearly snuffed out—her blood spread around her—but she blinked once to let me know she wasn’t gone yet, that she would stay with me until it was over. She lowered her chin, asking me to look into her eyes, to watch her so that we could go together. And so I did while they cut into my flesh and laughed about it. I’d always feel satisfaction from knowing that I frustrated them by not crying out like Sydney. I couldn’t. My mother was just a few feet away, and I didn’t want to torture her even more. Maybe that was why they didn’t spend more time with me. I bored them. And then, they left us to die.
My memory seemed to take me away for years, but just moments later, heavy boots quickly moved toward the Humvees. Motors snarled, and tires ripped down the road. Without a plan for what to do next, I scrambled from the ground and into Dr. Z’s garage. He didn’t own a car. He walked to campus and used the city bus, but when he needed a different mode of transportation, there was Silver, his ancient moped. It might have been the first moped ever made, and he looked ridiculous trolling down the streets in his helmet and suit and bow tie.
I grabbed Silver’s keys from beside the garage door and let my heavy backpack fall to the ground.
The kickstand flew back with barely any effort, and it wasn’t long before I was zooming down the road, five blocks behind the Humvees, as fast as Silver could run.
The wind whipped around me, pelting my legs with sand. As brutal as it was, I knew it was only the prequel to the storm. Silver struggled to stay between the white lines as I flicked my wrist and pulled the throttle back as far as it would go. Expletives slipped out from my mouth at every other block as the Humvees moved farther and farther away. They turned east, and I leaned forward, hoping that would somehow encourage Silver to surge ahead.
The red lights of the Humvees were still visible once I turned, and I smiled with relief but not for long. It began to rain and not the light, warm kind that made people look up and smile. It was the hard, stinging cold rain that feels as if it was cutting into your skin.
I kept my distance as we left the city lights behind, but when the Humvees turned down Old Copper Road, I didn’t follow. I couldn’t chance them figuring out that they were being tailed. Instead of Old Copper Road, I drove another mile south. I knew where they were going, and hopefully, it was where they were holding Cyrus.
The rain was coming down in droves and slowing me down. The dirt road was muddy and too much of a challenge for Silver’s small tires. I pulled over into the ditch and laid Silver onto its side, squinting through the rain, in the direction of the old warehouse nearly a mile away. That had to be it—the warehouse that had been closed for fifty years or more and where there had just been a party. The entire perimeter was lit up like Christmas. Never in the history of KIT had the secret society had two warehouse parties in one week—at least, not to my knowledge.
Zipping up my vest, I set out across the field, high-stepping across the brush, trying not to leave my boots in the mud. Terrible thoughts of what was happening to Cy behind those walls crept into my mind. He was of Egyptian descent. Maybe they thought he was a terrorist…or worse, maybe he was a terrorist.
And I’m about to break into a commandeered military post and do what? Save him? I could be caught, put in prison, or put to death.
“That only happens in the movies. They don’t even kill spies anymore,” I said aloud, tucking my chin to keep the icy rain from hitting my face.
I was breathing hard, and the mud had turned thick and impossible. My boot got stuck in a hole, and I began to pull away. As I tried to lean back to push my heel back inside, I lost my balance, overcorrected, and fell to the ground.
Facedown, palms down, flat on my belly in mud and cow crap. What am I doing?
A helicopter flew overhead, and I squinted, looking up through the pouring rain. It was landing, probably to collect Cy. I pushed myself up from the ground, pulled my boot as I pulled my foot from the mud, and ran as fast as I could manage through the field until I reached the back wall of the warehouse. Soaked, tired, and out of breath, I felt the rain smearing the mud in streaks down my skin and clothes.
I rested my hand against the door and bent down, taking a moment to collect myself before breaking into a military facility. Suddenly, the door vibrated, and the knob turned. I plastered myself against the wall, turning my head, as the door swung open.
A soldier walked out, lit a cigarette, and then blew a puff of smoke into the night air. His back was to me, so I slid around and along the door until I was inside and then snuck down the hall, hiding in a dark corner under a rusted metal worktable. It was chilly, and my wet clothes were drenched and sticking to my skin. My body shook, partly because of the cold, partly because I was absolutely terrified. I didn’t know how to get Cy out even if I did find him. He was stubborn and loved to argue about everything. What if we’re caught because he won’t come with me?
Deep voices echoed from the end of the hall. My fingers and toes were so cold that they were throbbing. Seeing a lab coat hanging from a hook on the wall, I crawled out from under the worktable and snatched it. My vest and sweater were bulky and weighed down by the rain. They must have weighed five pounds apiece and hit the floor with a thud when I peeled them off.