Escape to Eden (10 page)

“Meat,” I say. “Raw meat. They like it and it will buy us some time.”

Jenna laughs. “You want us to feed them? Look, I know you’ve been living under a rock your whole life so I don’t want to be mean, but you’re a twisted nut job! No one, and I mean no one, goes into the tunnels.”

I stand and curl my hands into fists. “I didn’t ask for your help, you prepubescent teen.”

Her eyes narrow. “What did you call me?”

Anthony laughs and I think Colt smiles, but just barely. I take a deep breath and step back. “The same goes for the rest of you. I will get my brother back. No one has to risk their lives for us.”

“I already made my decision a long time ago,” Anthony says. “The human race needs to be saved. Now let’s go. Bram’s waiting. Colt?”

“I’ll stay with Sage,” he says.

My eyes go to Colt, but he’s not looking at me. After what Jenna told me, I’m not sure I should be alone with him.

Jenna scrunches her nose. “Who’s Sage?”

“I am,” I say, expecting some kind of insult from her.

She shrugs. “I like Patch better.”

I ignore her, something I’m getting used to doing, and say to Anthony, “Are you sure it’s safe? Maybe it’s better if I stay here alone.”

Jenna smirks knowingly at Colt.

Anthony furrows his brow, his gaze going back and forth between Jenna and Colt as if he’s trying to figure out what’s going on between them. “No, Colt’s right. You’re much safer with him. You can trust him. I promise.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. Anthony may trust him, but I can’t dismiss the fact that he so easily turned in my father, which eventually led to my and Max’s and capture. I’ll have to keep my guard up around him.

I take a deep breath before asking, “When you’re at Bram’s, can you ask if there’s a way I can speak with my father?”

“Sure,” he says, but the way he says it makes me think it’s not possible, which is disappointing. I want to know why he didn’t try to find Max and me.

“Are you staying or coming?” Anthony asks Jenna.

“For now, going,” she says. “It’s too stuffy in here.”

“I’ll be back in one hour. If anything happens, you know where to go,” Anthony says, and leaves by the front door.

As soon as he’s gone, Colt asks, “You hungry again?”

“Yes, no.” My stomach is rumbling, but I’m not sure if it’s because I’m hungry or sick about my brother.

“I’ll get you some cereal.”

“Please don’t bother.”

He stands up anyway and goes into the kitchen. “About what Jenna said earlier. You don’t know the whole story.”

“I only have one question,” I say. “What did you do with the money?”

His face pales.

“Answer me!”

“I bought oDNA.” His voice is quiet.

I wrinkle my nose in disgust. “So not only did you turn in an Original for cash, but then you bought an Original’s DNA from the Institute knowing they’re being imprisoned and tortured for it?”

“There’s more to it than that. Let me—”

“I don’t mean to be rude, really I don’t,” I say, holding up my hand, “but right now I don’t want to think about it. I just want to focus on finding my brother. Maybe one day you can tell me, and maybe I’ll understand, but for now, let’s just get through the next little while, and then who knows? Maybe you’ll never have to see me again, and none of this will matter anyway.”

He reaches into a cupboard and removes a bowl. “If that’s what you want.” His tone is matter-of-fact, but there’s a hint of something else. Sadness? Bitterness? I don’t know him well enough to tell.

After a few silent moments, he asks, his voice still hard, “What are some things your father taught you?”

I’m not sure I like this topic any better than the last, but I answer anyway. Maybe I’ll remember something that will help Max. “As much as he could, especially after my mom died. He was obsessive about it. First thing in the morning, at sunrise, he would make me watch these movies about all the different types of Primes, specifically their physical characteristics, including any distinguishable eye color. Then we’d go over their strengths and weaknesses. Over and over until I knew them as well as I did my father. Then for hours after he’d teach me to fight. Every kind of martial arts you could think of. Afternoons were saved for history lessons, role playing—”

“Role playing?”

“Yes. Like what to say in certain situations to get me out of tight spots. His lessons were nonstop. He said it was because I was at a disadvantage from everyone else. I think he was trying to put me on a level playing field, if that’s possible.”

“What about your brother?”

At this, I’m quiet. How can I explain Max? No one would understand. In this world, where everyone was considered exceptional, Max would be thought of as useless. Only my father and I knew how special he really was.

“Max is different,” is all I say. “My father didn’t teach him like he did me. I learned enough for both of us.”

Colt hands me what looks like oats in a bowl but the coloring is different. “That must have been hard.”

“It was all for Max, and me, too, I guess. But now I’ve lost him.”

“We’ll get him back.”

I stare into the cereal for several seconds before I take a bite. The texture is similar to oatmeal, but it tastes sweeter.

Colt is quiet while I eat. He’s looking at a magazine but every once in awhile he looks up at me. I’m almost finished when he sits up abruptly. His eyebrows are drawn together and his mouth is tight.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

He stands and looks around frantically.

“Colt?”

He’s at my side and pulling me up before I can do it myself. The bowl of cereal falls to the ground, spilling milk all over the wooden floor.

“We have to go,” he says.

“What’s going on?”

“Someone’s trying to break in.” He pulls me into the kitchen.

“How do you know?” I ask. I tilt my head to listen for any strange sounds, but hear nothing.

“It’s one of my things,” he says as he glances all around. “There’s got to be a way out of here.”

“In the kitchen?”

Colt’s opening bottom cupboards and knocking on the back paneling. A cracking sound has me doing the same, although I’m not sure what I’m searching for.

“Over here,” he says from beneath the sink. He knocks aside several bottles of clear liquid. I crouch next to him and peer inside
as he pushes a small lever at the bottom of the metal sink. The back wall of the cabinet slides open, revealing a narrow cavity.

“Get in,” he says. Behind me the sound of a loud explosion rocks the whole apartment.

I hesitate. What if he’s leading me into a trap?

“Please trust me,” he says again, his eyes pleading. “I’m trying to make things right.”

I clench my jaw, still unsure, but scurry in anyway. Anthony said I would be safe. I hope he’s right.

I crawl quickly but have to drop to my belly as the circular, metal-walled tunnel narrows. Colt climbs in behind me; his arms are bumping my legs. As soon as we’re a ways into the tunnel, the small door snaps shut. The sound is quiet but it makes my heart beat faster as if a gun just fired. I don’t know the layout of this building. I don’t know what lies ahead and this makes me extremely nervous. Plus it’s dark and the space is small. I close my eyes and say it isn’t.

“Keep going. And fast,” Colt says, his voice low.

I scoot forward, careful to keep my head low so it doesn’t hit the ceiling. Arm over arm, I army crawl. The walls smell like mold, a bitter earthy aura. This is the first time I’ve smelled something bad in this world. Sweat breaks across my forehead and in the small of my back. The tunnel seems like it will never end, and the tube suddenly seems tighter. When did that happen? My chest constricts and even my vision starts to blur.

“Breathe normal,” Colt says. “Remember why you’re doing this.”

It’s then that I realize my breaths have become shallow and rapid. I suck in deeply and think of Max. Several seconds pass before my lips stop tingling and the band around my chest loosens. I continue forward, focusing only on Max and not the small space.

Behind me, Colt grunts as he tries to squeeze his bigger body through the tube. I can only imagine what he must be feeling.

Just ahead the tunnel ends. “Colt?”

He grunts and slides his body forward. “What?”

“It’s a dead end.”

“No, it can’t be. Bram wouldn’t have built an emergency exit without an actual exit. Look for a—”

He’s interrupted by a sound that makes my teeth ache: sharp nails scraping against metal.

“Go!” Colt says. “They’ve found us!”

Using all my strength, I pull myself forward as quickly as possible. “What’s coming? Tell me,” I demand.

“A Grater.”

An image flashes in my mind: small, the size of a child, and human-like but with six-inch, razor-sharp claws on both hands and feet. They are fast and deadly. But I know its weakness. If I can get out.

The sound of claws scurrying in the tunnel after us grows closer. Colt is behind me. He won’t stand a chance against it, not with how little he can move.

I reach the end of the tunnel and feel around the edges of the wall blocking our path until I discover a small raised button. I push it and a circular hatch opens. I slide out and spin around to stick the upper half of my body back into the tunnel.

“Grab my hands.” I reach in as far as possible, my feet coming off the floor.

Colt scoots forward until he grabs me. I press my thighs against the wall and pull as hard as I can. A moment later he falls to the floor, the back of his black shirt covered in sweat.

I peer into the tunnel. The Grater has his head up and his eyes are glowing a bright yellow. He has a hairless human face. No eyelashes or eyebrows, and on his head are chunks of scales in place of hair. I swallow hard and push Colt, who was in the process of standing up, out of the way.

“Stay to the side,” I say and glance up and down the hall where the tunnel has ended. It’s empty, giving me nothing I can use as a weapon. I look back at the small metal door of the opening we just came through. It might work. I swing my leg up in a karate-like move and bring the foot of my heel down onto the door. It barely budges, but I’m pretty sure it’s left a nice bruise on my foot. I go to do it again, but Colt stops me. He takes hold of the door with his hands and tugs until it rips from the hinges.

Ignoring his demands to tell him what it’s for, I take it from him, and press myself to the wall. My head pounds as I wait; the sound of scraping blades only seconds away. One shot at this. If I miss, it could prove fatal to us both.

I
stay focused on the opening as I wait for the Grater. It’s a terrifying task, remaining still when every part of me tells me to run. As soon as the Grater’s deadly fingernails appear, I swing the sharp edge of the door down with all my strength. It chips his black claws, but doesn’t break them.

The Grater shrieks, a horrible high-pitched sound that hurts my ears. It takes a swipe at me with its other hand, but I dodge it, just barely, and counter by swinging the door again. This time I’m successful and slice the claws on his left hand completely off. The Grater howls again and withdraws back into the tunnel.

“Come on!” Colt says and turns the other direction.

We race down the hallway toward a door leading outside. I go for it, but Colt pulls me into a different hallway before I get there.

“They’ll be waiting for us outside,” he says.

He runs a little further until he pushes on a door. A long staircase heads up. I shake my head. “We can’t go up. We’ll be trapped.”

“Trust me,” is all he says before he bounds up the stairs two at a time. I hesitate briefly before I hurry after him. How can I trust a boy who got me into this mess to begin with? Maybe there’s one of those bridges on the roof we can escape onto and disappear into another building. This thought comforts me, and I continue on, but by the time I reach the thirteenth floor my muscles are spent, and I’ve slowed down considerably.

“Wouldn’t an elevator be faster?” I ask through shallow breaths. Maybe Anthony was right about rushing after Max. My body isn’t ready.

“No elevator,” he says. “You’ve got to go faster. Any second now they’re going to realize where we went.”

As if they heard him, a loud crash echoes below us, like someone’s taken a wrecking ball to the wall. I glance over the stair rail. A plume of dust and debris billows up the narrow stairway cavity. A moment later, a giant head appears and looks up at me. It’s the same beast I bested at the hospital. He’s what’s called a Titan. I duck back and move up the stairs, but I still can’t run any faster. There’s no strength left in my muscles after having hung on to that cable under the bridge yesterday.

“Think of Max!” Colt says.

I flinch at the sound of frustration in his voice and try to move faster. For a few minutes I’m able to go up three more flights of stairs at full speed, but then my legs give out. No matter how much I want them to move, my muscles are shot. Tears sting my eyes, and I curse my body for being weak.

Colt sees me on my knees and comes back. I don’t have a chance to apologize before he’s picking me up and carrying me the rest of the way to the top. He’s puffing heavy breaths through puckered lips.