“Private school,” he answered. “Year round. I was off track.”
They cleared the last bunker and reached the fence. The ground sloped to the south, taking a sharp decline just after the second fence. In the distance, Aubrey could see where they came from—a large collection of buildings all connected by fences and watchtowers. From this distance she just couldn’t tell which one had been hers. One of them, she had to hope, still held Jack.
Aubrey remembered her promise. She wouldn’t do anything stupid. But she also remembered Jack’s desperate plea—if she was going to get him out, she couldn’t let anyone find out she was a Positive, a Lambda.
She looked at the fence in front of her. There was no way she could cut it—she hadn’t seen anything like cable cutters in the tent, even in the supply station. And one glance at the razor wire was enough to tell her that she couldn’t climb it. Even with being able to disappear, this fence was impossible to cross.
Maybe she could go back to the decontamination rooms, she thought. They’d be guarded, but guards were easier to avoid than razor wire.
Of course, the fences weren’t her only problem. The buildings were surrounded by armored vehicles, tanks, watchtowers, and there always seemed to be hundreds of infantrymen nearby—drilling or working or patrolling.
Aubrey tried to picture Jack, tried to guess where he was and what he was doing. He’d be safe, she thought. Eventually they’d realize that he wasn’t a Positive. Maybe he was already released, back in one of the tents and trying to find her.
She lost her train of thought for a moment—as she stared at the buildings she couldn’t remember what she was looking for. It had been too long since she’d had a normal life—too long since decent food and a good night’s rest.
“Hey, wait a minute.” Aubrey turned and looked up at Alec. “Aren’t you . . .”
It was hard to picture. She could see his face. She knew that she’d seen him somewhere before. But where? On the bus? In the warehouse? Or was it longer ago than that?
Alec looked equally confused.
“Alec Moore, right?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Oh my gosh,” she said with a laugh. “Did you go to Mount Pleasant Elementary? Third and fourth grade?”
Alec’s face brightened. “You’re from Mount Pleasant?”
Aubrey felt a sense of elation—in all of this camp she’d finally found someone that she knew. Granted it was years before, but she knew him. “Aubrey Parsons,” she said happily. “I’m Aubrey Parsons!”
She jumped forward, throwing her arms around him. He hugged her back.
“Aubrey,” he said. “Holy cow, you’ve grown up. Man, it’s been a long time.”
“Yeah,” Aubrey said, stepping back to look at him. “You’re so . . . tall.”
Kara looked a little peeved that Aubrey had a connection with Alec, but Aubrey didn’t care. She’d spent the last four days searching for some sign of home, and here was someone right in front of her. Aubrey couldn’t remember much about Alec—it had been a long time—but they’d been friends. They’d been friends back when Aubrey had friends.
“Oh, wow,” she said, feeling happier than she had in a long time. “This is great.”
TWENTY-THREE
NICOLE DIDN’T LAST LONG IN the prison. Before the soldiers had even brought in anyone new, Jack watched as two guards and an officer came and took her away.
The cells seemed to be getting colder, though Jack wondered if that was just because he’d never been able to get fully dry. The other Positives couldn’t seem to keep their mouths shut, and the sprinklers were turned on at least twice a day. Jack was able to keep time for the first two days, but eventually water got into his watch and it stopped. He wasn’t sure how many more hours had passed—there were no windows, and the lights were always on—but Jack tried to keep track of how often the guards brought food; he guessed he’d been in his cell about three days.
By his count, three more people had been brought in to the prison and four had been taken away. Eddie and Josi were gone now, but Matt Ganza was there. He hadn’t said a word since he’d been brought in, and he was too far down the row to have a private conversation with Jack.
The boy who had been brought in unconscious never woke up and was carried off by medics.
The only thing that kept Jack’s spirits up was the hope that Aubrey was working on getting him out—maybe trying to get him retested. Part of him doubted it. He didn’t want to doubt. He wanted to sit confidently in his cell, certain that she was harassing the guards day and night.
But she’d abandoned him before.
A metallic clank sounded as the far door opened. The kids still argued, but without the same enthusiasm they’d had before. They’d been here too long, and knew it wasn’t doing any good. The newer prisoners weren’t talkers, and the old ones were tired of getting soaked all the time.
The guards appeared in front of Jack’s cell, putting the new prisoner into Nicole’s former cell. She thanked them, just as Nicole had done, and they left her with a bottle of drugged water.
“Hi,” Jack said, as the girl inspected her tiny cell.
“Hi,” she answered, turning to face him. She was short, probably just over five feet tall, with light blonde hair that fell just to her chin. Like most of the prisoners who’d been brought in, she looked tired.
“I’m Jack,” he said.
“Laura,” she answered.
Another girl from somewhere down the corridor shouted out the same question she did of all new prisoners. “Any news from outside?”
Laura sat down on the concrete cross-legged. She was probably short enough that she could lay flat on the floor, and Jack envied that. “I’ve been in the warehouse for two days,” Laura answered. “No new people have been brought in since last night. The last one to come in said that the TVs aren’t broadcasting anymore. He said that there’s a draft now.”
“Do they know who the terrorists are yet?” Jack asked.
“No,” Laura said, picking up the water bottle and peering at the yellow specks floating in it.
Jack leaned against the cinder-block wall and stared at the ceiling. Could it be that he was actually safer in prison?
“What do you do?” Matt asked. He was in a cell to Jack’s right—Jack couldn’t see him.
Jack looked back at Laura, who seemed surprised by the question.
“Excuse me?”
“What’s your power?” Matt said. “You’re a Positive. That means you can do something.”
“Oh,” Laura said. She balled her small hand into a fist and punched the cement floor. With no more apparent effort than if she was squashing a bug, the cement splintered and cracked.
The corridor suddenly erupted with noise.
“What was that? What did she do?”
“She punched the freaking floor! Like a jackhammer or something.”
“Don’t drink the water! It’ll mess with your head!”
“Get the bars! Get us out of here!”
Laura, with a contented smile on her face, didn’t move. Her eyes met Jack’s, and he moved forward to his door so he could talk over the noise.
“Why don’t you escape?” he said. “Can you break the bars?”
“Probably,” she said, gripping the steel in her hands. “I think so. But I’m not going anywhere.”
“Why not?” someone else shouted. “You could fight your way out.”
The other prisoners yelled in agreement, pleading for her to break them all free, but she shook her head.
