The Indestructibles (Book 2): Breakout (15 page)

Chapter 27:

Life or death

      Some time after they'd been fed and locked into their chamber at the Labyrinth, Billy heard the door unlock from the outside. He glanced at Jane, who nodded to let him know she'd heard it as well. They both looked to Emily, who was bubble of floating herself around the room out of boredom. She couldn't decide what to watch on TV and so settled on annoying Billy and Jane instead.

      "Do we go?" Billy said.

      Jane walked to the door and tried the handle. It opened silently. She peered up and down the hallway, and knelt to pick up an envelope that she tossed to Billy.

      "They could be setting us up," Jane said.

      Billy ripped open the envelope. Inside was a slip of paper that simply said, 1313. He held the note out to Jane who tapped on their own door.

      "1939," Jane said.

      "We're on the nineteenth story? The building can't even be six stories from the outside."

      "I told you this place was bigger on the inside!" Emily said, finally dropping to the floor and joining in the conversation. "But I can tell you we're underground."

      "How do you know this?" Billy said.

      "I control gravity, yo. I know elevations."

      "How long have you been able to detect elevations?" Jane asked, honestly perplexed. "When did this happen?"

      "I dunno. I'm good at guessing peoples' weights, too. Want me to guess yours?"

      "Emily."

      "You're surprisingly dense for a small person."

      "Emily."

      "The human head weighs eight pounds."

      "Emily!"

      "I'm done."

      Billy let the taunting little sister, infuriated big sister game play out. Watching Emily drive Jane insane was normally one of his favorite pastimes, but since being cut off from Dude, nothing seemed particularly funny at all.

      "I'll go scout out this cell 1313. You two stay here."

      "I'm your bodyguard. I'm going with you," Emily said.

      "We all go," Jane said. "It's not like they're going to punish us for missing curfew."

      The trio strode out into the hall and walked past three empty cells, peeking in through small, observational windows each time. The hallway was dark and incredibly nondescript, dark, sterile walls marred only by the occasional door. Finally they came to an elevator.

      "No," Jane said.

      "Stairs?" Billy said.

      "Always stairs."

      Emily hit the call button for the elevator anyway.

      "I have a plan."

      "You never have a plan."

      The elevator dinged and the door opened up to an empty car.

      "Hold the door for me," Emily said.

      Billy stuck an arm in to keep the doors open, and Emily went inside to hit every button on the wall.

      "You just wanted to do that to be annoying."

      "Nope," Emily said. "If anyone finds out we're gone they're going to have no idea what floor we're on."

      "It always scares me when you apply logic," Jane said.

      "Why do I have to keep saying this," Emily said. "I'm a genius."

* * *

      Dude, I'm never taking you for granted again, Billy thought to himself when they reached the thirteenth floor. Emily was right — which, Billy had to admit, she usually was when she claimed to know something — and taking the stairs meant climbing six floors. Emily floated, of course, because why would she actually exert herself, and Jane could probably walk forty flights without getting tired, but Billy was only just now realizing how much having Dude's power to rely on had made a difference for him. He was sweating and exhausted after four flights, and barely made it the full six.

      Jane offered, in such a sympathetic way that it almost made Billy feel bad, to lend him a hand, which he politely turned down, and Emily offered to bubble of float him the rest of the way, which he might have taken her up on if she hadn't made a joke about one of those senior citizen chair lift machines, at which point he tossed out a few off-color words and said he'd be fine on his own.

      The door to the thirteenth floor was bolted from the other side and protected with a keypad. Jane began checking the edges to see if she could pull the door off its hinges, but Billy touched her shoulder.

      "Alarms," he said. "Also I have a hunch."

      He typed in COLDWALL into the keypad and, surprisingly, the door unlocked.

      "A hunch?"

      "Our guardian angel," Billy said.

      "Okay," Jane said. "I'll follow your lead."

      Level thirteen had a different feel from nineteen, with white, tiled walls and bright lights. They walked cautiously along the corridor, past rooms locked as tightly as cells but which looked like they belonged in a hospital instead, with beds and monitors. Most were empty. One contained a man with green scales instead of skin. Jane pointed.

      "That's Slither," Jane said. "Doc told me about him once. He was a hired killer before Doc and his friends brought him in. He's been here a long time."

      "He doesn't look good," Billy said.

      "I had a pet snake once," Emily said.

      Both Jane and Billy looked at her, waiting for where the non sequitur would lead.

      Emily stared back at them, confused. "What?"

      "And?" Jane said.

      "And what?" Emily said.

      "That's the whole story?" Billy said.

      "The end?" Emily said.

      "I don't even know . . . I don't even know," Jane said.

      "It's not a complicated story. His name was Buzz."

      "Why would you name a snake — y'know, never mind," Billy said. "We can talk about your pet snake Buzz later."

      "You're the ones who wanted more to the story."

      By now, Jane had already walked away, leaving Billy and Emily to catch up.

      The passed a larger room located behind shatterproof glass containing rows of cryogenic capsules, the contents of which were obscured by fog. In another room a simian creature sat; a cross between an orangutan and a gorilla, he was sleeping on a cot with an IV running out of his arm. A TV high above the bed played some dull reality TV show.

      "That's definitely a monkey," Emily said. "Guys. Monkey. Huge monkey watching TV."

      "I know him too," Jane said. "The Ape Lord. Doc said that despite all the destruction he caused, he always thought the Ape Lord could have been an advocate for good some day. But he kept waging war on people instead. He felt guilty turning him over to the Labyrinth but after he stole a nuclear warhead . . ."

      The Ape Lord's eyes opened, gummy and heavy-lidded, before drifting back into whatever dreamland he'd been dozing in.

      "Is this an infirmary?" Billy said.

      "It looks it. Slither looked really ill, the Ape Lord looked really old," Jane said "Maybe this is where they bring the inmates who are too sick for their cells?"

      And then they came across the vacant monitoring station. Emily sat down in front of the screen and started reading.

      "Transferring subject's strength to a non-powered human resulted in numerous side effects . . ." She began. "Subject L48 was unable to survive adaptation to use of electrical currents. Resulting third degree burns led to subject's death."

      "What are you looking at?" Billy asked.

      "Notes. On things," Emily said. "Bad things. Look at this — they tried to copy someone with super speed's powers and transition them into a test subject and the bones in the guy's legs came unmoored. This is crazy."

      "This isn't an infirmary," Jane said. "This is a lab."

      "Exactly," Henry Winter's voice interrupted. The scientist hero stood in a navy blue suit, leaning on his cane, looking even worse than he had earlier in the day.

      "What's happening here," Jane said.

      "Exactly what it looks like," Winter said.

      "Did you know about this?" Jane said. "All those years when you and Doc and the others were locking up super-villains here . . . that they were being turned into test subjects?"

      Winter shook his head.

      "This is a recent development," Winter said. "This started after they brought me in. New management. I think they wanted to build a better hero."

      "This is exactly what the Children of the Elder Star were doing on that island," Billy said.

      "The place you shut down?" Winter asked. "Doesn't surprise me. The Children never wanted to let things happen naturally when they could control how it happened instead."

      Jane slammed a fist down on the desk, rattling the computer Emily was still tinkering with.

      "Why? Why is this happening?" Jane said. "Doc would never—"

      "None of us would have," Winter said.

      "Then what are you doing here?" Billy said.

      "I can't leave," Winter said. "And I can't stop them. The best I can do is try to keep things humane."

      "Guys," Emily said. "Sam's here."

      Jane moved too fast for Billy's eyes to even register what she was doing until she had Winter by the throat, pinned against a wall. His cane fell to the floor.

      "What have you done to him?" Jane said.

      Winter's fingers scrambled against her hand, trying to force her to let him go.

      "He. Volunteered," Winter said.

      "No one volunteers for this!" Jane said.

      "Let him down, Jane," Billy said. "I want to hear this."

      Jane slid Winter back to his feet.

      Gingerly, he reached down and picked up his cane.

      "I tried to talk him out of it," Winter said. "I told him it was dangerous and stupid. But he is dying. You know he's dying, right?"

      "He hasn't been looking good for a long time," Billy said.

      "A year left, maybe two if he was lucky," Winter said. "And Prevention's team offered him a chance to get better. Come with me."

      Winter led them further into the lab, past a creature with the skin like an elephant's, clearly in pain, labored breath rising and falling slow and even.

      He stopped before room 1313.

      Sam lay on a bed, strapped down and filled with tubes, eyes taped shut, skin yellow and dry.

      Jane put her fist on the glass.

      "We're taking him out of here," she said.

      Winter shook his head.

      "That will kill him for sure," he said. "The procedure itself didn't kill him but . . ."

      "Why Sam?" Billy asked. "Why put an old man through this? Why not just use one of the criminals here?"

      Winter sighed, rubbing his forehead wearily.

      "They wanted a volunteer," he said. "They wanted someone with a history with the Department to prevent potential losses. They wanted someone without any family ties, and they wanted someone sick, because if this works, it could hypothetically make him well again. And not just a little sick. They needed someone terminal."

      "And old?" Emily said. "Why did they have to use someone so old?"

      "That wasn't a requirement, but they wanted someone without much time left. I think to lessen the guilt if it killed him."

      "What will it do to him?" Emily said.

      She had her face pressed against the glass now, her body language shrinking her down.

      We forget how young she is, Billy thought. We forget she hasn't really lost anyone before.

       "I don't know all the details — I was always a technology expert, not a biologist," Winter said. "But from what I understand, it'll make him a miracle worker if it's successful."

      "You don't sound convinced," Jane said.

      "I think Sam needs a miracle himself right now," Winter said. "This is why I led you up here tonight, while Prevention is off site."

      "And what do you want us to do about it," Billy said.

      Winter rubbed his eyes again, leaving red and bruised.

      "I don't know," he said. "I was hoping you could help me figure that out."

Chapter 28:

Inconvenience

      Caleb Roth leaned against the counter in the small convenience store and turned up the volume on the television so he could better hear the sound over the gurgles of the infected clerk he had left dying on the floor.

      "The airship known colloquially as the Tower has not been seen over the City for several days," a bland newscaster said. "Have the Indestructibles abandoned their post? None of the young heroes have been spotted since the rumored breakout attempt at the super-criminal prison known as the Labyrinth."

      The video cut to a barista at one of the chain restaurants dotting every corner in the city.

      "We haven't seen any of them," employee, a slender blonde girl with large blue eyes said. "They used to come in here a lot because their base rotated above us every few hours."

      The newscaster returned to the screen, looking grim.

      "Rumors have circulated that noted organized crime boss Jimmy 'The Teeth' LaCoste is behind the disappearance, following an incident between his associates and the vigilante known as the Dancer."

      Caleb watched them cut to LaCoste's lawyer, with the gangster looking menacing and silent behind him.

      "Mr. LaCoste denies any involvement in the disappearance of these dangerous vigilantes," the lawyer said. "In addition, he maintains his innocence in the crimes implicated by the highly illegal and near-fatal assault on his employees during a private card game . . ."

      Caleb tore open another candy bar, barely tasting it, his feverish body demanding the calories faster than he could chew. He felt like he was self destructing these days, burning away, perpetually starving. He cracked open an energy drink to wash it down, grimacing at the sour, unidentifiable fruit flavor.

      "For more on this story, we turn to Jon Broadstreet, one of the City's best young beat reporters who has become something of an expert on the Indestructibles," the newscaster said. "Welcome, Jon."

      "Thanks for having me."

      "I'll cut right to the chase — do you have any clue where these kids have gone?"

      "They've always been extremely private," Broadstreet said. "But I can tell you that this is the first time the Tower has moved out of City airspace since the building it had previously been hidden in collapsed last year."

      "That leads me to my next question," the newscaster said. "Is there anyone out there that might have attacked them? We know the Tower's former location was actually demolished by a . . . giant . . . rodent monster of some kind."

      "This is where their inherent privacy becomes problematic," Broadstreet said. "We have to assume they've made any number of enemies, but publicly, there is little information about who is friend or foe."

      "Do we know where the Tower is now?"

      "It briefly entered Canadian airspace," Broadstreet said. "And it is now at a very high altitude over the Atlantic, but as far as the media knows, there has been no communication back or forth with the ship."

      "Sounds like we're in wait and see mode, Jon."

      "It's the best we can do for now," Broadstreet said.

      "Stay tuned for further updates," the newscaster said. "Now on to weather and sports."

      Caleb hit mute on the TV and rummaged around for a plastic bag behind the counter, which he started to fill with cheap pastry items, candy, and soda. No mention of his own activities in the news. This annoyed him. He'd been picking his targets on an escalating scale, hoping to garner more attention. But then again, he'd hoped that attention would catch the eye of the Indestructibles as well, so this new development was alarming. Where could they have gone? On some secret mission? Dead?

      Not dead. They couldn't be. He needed answers from them. He needed them to listen to him.

      Clearly his earlier attacks had been too small a scale, but he'd been testing his limits. Trying to understand how much he could control his powers. The hospital had been a real test, but he wondered if perhaps it was too secure an environment — people were expected to get sick there, and they had control over the comings and goings of patients. He needed to infect a place where panic would proliferate. Where people would be watching everyone and everything. Where he could spread the maximum fear.

      He picked up an aging phone book, long ignored under the counter below the register, and unfolded a faded street map inside.

      And Caleb Roth began looking for schools.