Contain (26 page)

I hear a soft flutter, the barest
whisper of air moving, and then he's standing right beside me. I
fear I may scream.

“
Not until whoever is
responsible for this is dead.”

I jerk my head to the left, sweep out
a hand. Nothing. Neither is there to the right. Where the hell is
he?

A cool breath of air caresses my
cheek.

Then there's voices, someone calling
my name out in the hallway, and the hard patter of running feet.
Without another thought, I yank the door open.

But the knob is torn from my grip, and
the door slams shut again with such force that I stagger backwards
into the room. My feet tangle and I fall, landing hard on some kind
of thin padding. And that's when I figure out where I am. Eddie has
brought me home.

“
Please,” I beg him. “Make
it quick.”

An eternity later, I realize he's
already left me.

When the lights come back on, the first thing I see is the crayon
drawing of flowers Mia Largent did two springs ago. I'd stuck it to
the ceiling over my bedroll, so it'd be the first thing I see in
the morning, to remind me that I'm safe whenever I wake from the
dreams. I love that picture, even though the petals are too
geometric, and the colors are muted and gray. It's as if Mia's
memory of the real thing has been distorted by our residence within
these walls.

I'd always meant to ask her if they
are supposed to be the flowers from her garden at home.

Several minutes later, the door
opens.

“
Finn!” Dad says. “Jesus,
there you are!
I found
him!
”

He bends down and grabs me by the
shoulders and shakes me hard enough to rattle my teeth. “Are you
okay? Are you hurt?”

“
Eddie?”

“
We're still looking for
him.”

I frown at the jumbled memory. Why did
Eddie bring me here? Why did he stop Jack?

I say, “Mister Resnick
thought—”

“
You don’t have to worry
about him. He’s been taken care of.”

“
How?”

“
Confined to quarters for
now until we can figure this out.”

I shake my head and struggle to sit
up. “He thought I  I
killed . . . .”

I can't finish.

“
It wasn't you, of course.
It was Eddie.”

But was it?

“
He brought me here. Eddie.
He told me no one would understand what he's become.”

Dad sweeps the hair away from my
forehead and presses a thumb against the knot, causing me to jerk
back. “You've had quite the knock. You need to rest.”

“
No, I want to help.” My
voice is hoarse and my head feels two sizes too big. I'm really
beginning to tire of the abuse my body is taking. “We need to find
him. Eddie's here somewhere.”

“
I agree,” another voice
says.

I look over and see Mister Abramson
standing in the doorway. He looks pale, haggard. “Bren has been
asking after you,” he says. “I told her I'd check and let her know
as soon as you were found. Are you okay?”

I nod. “She's okay? The blood she
touched on the door—”

“
Not infected. No worries
there. We were lucky.”

I frown. How can he be so sure? It
took Eddie days to change.

“
Doctor Cavanaugh's lab?”
My voice trails off as I remember the destruction. “Why would Eddie
do that?”

“
Until we find him, we can
only guess.”

I lay back again. “I'm glad Bren's
okay.”

He steps in, a flash of anger in his
eyes. “Kaleagh told me you refused to stay put upstairs. Why would
you endanger them?” But his shoulders slump and he dismisses the
question with a wave of his hand. “Never mind. I'm just glad to
know you're safe.”

“
Is anyone else hurt?” I
ask.

“
We're still trying to
track down a few people,” Dad says. “We're organizing more thorough
search parties.”

Mister Abramson's face pinches.
“Except Levels Five and Six. I think it'd be better if we sealed
them off. The blood . . . .”

Dad nods. He looks drained, and yet
there's a new intensity in his eyes. His nerves are shot. It's been
a rough few days for him, too.

“
The stranger,” he asks me.
“Did you see what happened to him? He's gone.”

Mister Abramson leans forward, curious
to know, too.

I shake my head. The bones in my neck
grind painfully against each other, a memento from Jack Resnick's
attack.

Finally, Mister Abramson stands up.
“We'll track Eddie down and when we do, we’ll end this.”

The lines in my father's face grow
deeper. He leans back on his haunches and looks
troubled.

“
I'll start organizing the
search groups, Abe. We'll cover the entire bunker from basement to
ceiling. The sooner we start, the better.”

“
I'll take a team, start on
Level One,” Dad says. “We'll work our way down.”

“
I want to help.” I push
myself off the floor and get to my feet. “Dad, please.”

He shakes his head at me. “No, Finn.
Absolutely not. You've been through too much as it is.”

Mister Abramson stands up and offers a
hand, pulling Dad to his feet. “I'll start in the dungeons,” he
says. “It's likely he went below.”

“
Dad, I'm fine. Please. I
want to help.”

For a moment, he looks like he might
cave. He glances over at Bren's dad, who just stands there and
waits without any expression on his face. Then Dad's gaze sweeps
the tiny room that has been our home before settling on
me.

“
Lock the door after us,”
he quietly says, and he leaves.

“Are you sure?”

“
I'm not a kid anymore,” I
say. “My father will never accept that. He's blind to the fact that
I've grown.”

Mister Abramson sighs and nods. “It's
not an easy thing for a parent to reconcile, Finn. One never ceases
to be a father. Or a mother. I hope one day you'll have the
privilege of knowing this truth for yourself.”

He reaches out and squeezes my
shoulder, and for the first time I feel like we've really
connected, like something has passed between us. I feel like he's
finally okay with me and Bren being together.

“
Your father may not be
happy with me for accepting your offer,” he tells me with a wink,
“but between you and me, I'm glad to have you on my
side.”

There are five more in our search
party: Harry Rollins, Bix and his father, Susan Miller, and another
last minute addition in Jonah. Bix complains bitterly about his
inclusion, tells him it's because of his father that we're in this
mess to begin with. I know he's not happy Susan's there,
either.

Jonah presses his lips tight against
each other, shoves one of the makeshift weapons he's brought with
him into Bix's hands, and reminds him of our purpose with a snarl.
“My father didn't turn Eddie into a monster.”

When Jonah gets to me, he pauses and
looks like he's going to say something. But he doesn't. He hands me
a large metal pipe wrench. When I grab it, he doesn't release it
right away. He just stands there and stares at me, as if he's
challenging me to wrest it from his grip.

I avoid his gaze and try not to appear
as furious with him as I feel. I'm not thrilled about him coming
either, and yet I'm also grateful that he does. He seems interested
in getting this whole incident behind us as well.

Once armed, we follow Bren's dad down
flight after flight of stairs, weapons held at the
ready.

“
I shoulda peed before we
left,” Bix whispers.

“
You shoulda stayed home,”
Jonah says.

I feel Mister Blakeley stiffen beside
me, but he doesn't speak.

The bickering continues for two more
flights before Mister Abramson stops and tells them to knock it
off.

Finally, we reach the bottom, Level
Ten.

The door giving access to the sump
pumps is made of heavy metal, riveted like the door on a warship.
There's even a portal set in the middle of it, though it's square.
And instead of a wheel to open the door, there's another keypad on
the wall, just beneath a small niche for the facility
phone.

Mister Abramson presses the keys and
the light turns green.

“
Harrison,” he says,
turning to face us before opening the door. “I need you and your
son to stand guard inside the stairwell. Make sure nothing comes
down those stairs and gets inside. Lock this door behind us. Susan,
you and Harry stand guard just inside the room and make sure
nothing gets past us going out. Jonah and Finn, you're with
me.”

Everyone nods. I tighten the grip on
the wrench and raise it to chest height. It's heavy, maybe five or
six pounds, but the weight feels good in my hand. It feels
potent.

Mister Abramson pulls the latch to the
side and the door swings open.

“
Stay close, boys,” he
says, and he steps out into the gloom.

Jonah gives me a nudge in the back.
“Wake up, Bolles.”

It's not much of a push, but it
catches me off guard and I stumble in. “I'm going!”

“
Then go
already.”

Mister Abramson is already ten feet
ahead, just stepping out onto the catwalk. I hurry to catch up, and
the room opens up beneath my feet. The surface of the narrow walk
is made of metal mesh, but the pools below are too dark to see
through it. Nevertheless, I catch myself staring down, peering
through the gaps, straining for any hint that Eddie might be
dangling underneath like some kind of bat creature.

Mister Abramson strides across the
walk, jostling it. He's either unaware of Eddie's newly acquired
strength and sensory powers, or he doesn't believe Eddie could be
laying in wait. His eyes are glued to the opposite end of the walk,
to the door on the other side, as if that's his goal.

Does he think Eddie's on the other
side? How would he have gotten through?

Dad once told me that it goes inside
the mountain, but he never told me why he thinks that. Maybe he
learned it from our first leader, Mister Gronbach.

Water seeps through the
concrete ceiling and drips invisibly through the air, sometimes
hitting our cheeks or smacking on the catwalk, but mostly just
slapping the surface of the water far below with a hollow
plunk!

I keep expecting the pumps to turn on,
yet when one finally does, the sudden rattle of the motor startles
me.

“
Keep up, boys.”

Jonah hisses behind me. I think he's
angry at me for lagging, but I hear him mutter grumpily under his
breath, “We're not boys.”

For some reason, it makes me think of
Bix saying he should've gone to the bathroom. A moment ago, I'd
needed to go, but the urge has completely vanished. Every muscle in
my body feels wound as tight as a drum right now.

The unsettling buzz of the sump pumps
seems to impel Mister Abramson. He picks up the pace, and the
distance between us grows— four feet, six, ten.