Blackout (7 page)

“How are you?” he said, reaching forward to touch her arm.

“Good,” she said. “I hope.”

User: SusieMusie

Mood: Tired

I feel like I have a train running through my head. I should never drink. But isn’t Saturday for drinking? Erica says so but I’m the one stuck in the passenger seat while she goes from party to party, getting plastered. Sara isn’t any better. I need new friends.

THIRTEEN

LAURA CLIMBED OUT OF THE
torn hole in her tent and peered into the morning light. It was an hour or two past sunrise, but despite all the events of yesterday—and despite having marched five miles into the forest with Ranger Brown over her shoulder—Laura hadn’t been able to sleep.

The sky was cloudy. Rain would be coming soon, probably before noon, which would help in their coming hike. Assuming that the country could spare any manpower, low clouds and heavy rain would hamper any kind of helicopter search.

So much for lying low. Now they’d need to get back off this mountain somehow. There were targets to the east—Alec had been excited about the power plants that dotted this part of the state—but escape might be their first priority.

Standing now, Laura stretched and took a deep breath of the crisp mountain air. Dan was the only member of the group who didn’t have to wear a thick coat in these Wyoming mountains. Something about his abilities gave him a constant feeling of being overheated. Maybe he should have been wearing a coat anyway—maybe it was all in his head—but you couldn’t convince him of that. He said the cold air actually felt good to him. Laura was already shivering as she bent down and got her coat—a puffy purple one she’d stolen from the backseat of a car last week.

Ranger Brown was still where Laura had dropped her, in an uncomfortable slump beside a large granite boulder. She was bound with duct tape at her ankles and knees, and her hands were taped behind her back. As Laura approached, she could see a glimmer of light reflecting off Brown’s eyes. She was awake.

“Don’t worry,” Laura said, watching the woman. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The ranger’s gaze was fixed on Laura, but she didn’t try to move or struggle. Alec had removed Brown’s shoes, throwing them into a nearby creek. He’d said it would be harder for Brown to run that way, though the amount of tape binding her ankles made the bare feet unnecessary. Now, the poor woman just looked cold.

Laura knelt down beside her, the ranger’s terrified eyes watching Laura’s every movement. With her left hand she reached out and grasped one of Brown’s feet. Brown twitched at the touch, pulling back instinctively, but Laura held tight and the resistance faded. Brown’s skin was icy and rough. Laura reached one hand into the pocket of her coat and retrieved a pair of her own wool socks, and then proceeded to pull them onto Brown’s feet.

The ranger looked confused and opened her mouth to speak, but Laura motioned for Brown to stay quiet.

A voice broke the silence. “They’ve instituted martial law.”

Laura, startled and embarrassed, saw Alec sitting motionless on a rock about twenty feet away. His pale skin and sunken features made him appear ghostly in the dim light.

Laura let go of Brown’s foot and stood. “You heard something?” Alec had kept both of the rangers’ radios, and had listened for hours while they hiked.

Alec shook his head. “They’ve ceased all radio traffic.”

“They know we’re listening?”

“Probably.”

“Then what?”

“I got some information from her,” Alec said, nodding slightly toward Brown. “The military seems to have figured out two things: they know our network is made up of teenagers.”

Laura sat on a log near Alec, leaning forward. “Have they caught anyone?”

He nodded. “She doesn’t know anything about it, but they must have. Because the other thing they’ve figured out is that our abilities are caused by a virus.”

“What? But they’re not.”

“Remember that crap she was spewing last night about the police taking teens?”

Laura nodded.

He took a swig from his canteen and then continued. “They’re doing it because teens—American teenagers—are getting abilities. And, since the government can test for it, that means they must have captured someone; they must have some strain of the virus to compare it to.”

“But it’s not a virus,” Laura said again. She didn’t catch it. She was injected with it as a baby. Her parents told her.

Alec rolled his eyes. “It must have mutated. How long since your abilities manifested?”

Laura was flustered now. This wasn’t how it was supposed to work. She was supposed to be superior to everyone. “Uh, I don’t know. Two years?”

“See, you should have had them before that—they were supposed to come around age twelve or thirteen. Mine came late, too.”

Laura was trying to think clearly, but this was the first significant problem in their plan she’d encountered. Every chase, every attack—those were things she could handle. But this was different. The entire system was flawed. And everything hinged on this.

Alec was still talking to Laura, but stared at the ranger. “I think it was broken from the beginning. We didn’t get our powers when we were supposed to. We got physical side effects, which we weren’t supposed to. And now it’s spreading like a virus.”

“So what do we do?”

“We do a better job of hiding. We go for targets that will slow their study—hospitals, labs, the damned CDC if we can get it.”

“Should we speed up our attacks on the scheduled targets?”

“I’ll think about it,” he said. “I wish I knew how the testing works. How do they know if someone has been tested? Complete quarantine? Some kind of identifying mark? If it’s something simple like a tattoo, then we need to get ourselves tattoos. If we can look like we’ve been tested, then we can walk around without suspicion.”

Laura pointed at the ranger. “What do we do with her? She’s seen everything. She heard us talking. She saw what I did to the other one.”

“It will be useful to have a hostage,” Alec answered. “They’re probably trying to find us right now.”

“We won’t be dealing with police,” Laura said, almost surprised that she was arguing with Alec. “It will be the US Army, maybe special forces. They won’t be negotiating for hostages.”

“Then we’ll kill her,” Alec said.

Laura stood. “We could have just left her there, by the cars. What good did bringing her do? She slowed us down—and I won’t be able to carry both her and Dan if we need his powers.”

“You’re right,” Alec said. He slowly stood from his rock, twisting his neck and back to stretch the muscles. “But I want more information from her.”

“What more does she know?”

Alec took a step toward Laura. Alec was the highest rank of the three of them and Laura knew she was pushing it.

Alec smiled. “I don’t know. Let’s ask.”

He brushed past Laura and knelt beside Brown.

“Leave me alone,” she whispered. “I don’t know anything.”

Alec, his back to Laura now, didn’t respond. He simply sat there and stared at the girl. Laura didn’t want to watch, but couldn’t look away. She knew what Alec was doing—playing with Brown’s mind. After a tense moment, Brown looked puzzled and smiled nervously.

“What’s going on, Alec?” she said.

His voice was soft and soothing. “What’s your name?”

Brown paused for a moment, her gaze darting up to Laura. “You know my name,” Brown said. “Take this tape off.”

“Humor me,” Alec said. “What’s your name?”

“This isn’t funny,” she said, and her face contorted in another wave of confusion. She shrieked, flailing uselessly against the restraints.

“Here are the rules,” Alec said, his voice suddenly filled with hatred. “I’m going to ask you some questions. If I like your answer, you’ll be fine. If I don’t, you’ll get more of the same.”

She froze, her eyes wide and terrified. Laura shuddered to think what memories Alec was stuffing into the girl’s brain.

“Good,” Alec said. “Now, what is your name?”

“Gina,” she whispered. “Gina Lynn Brown.”

Laura watched for a moment, and then turned back to her tent.

FOURTEEN

“AT LEAST IT’S NOT BREAD
and water,” Aubrey said, looking down at the pouch in her hands. It was military rations—vacuum-sealed tuna casserole.

Jack smiled. “I don’t know if this is much better.”

“It’s warmed up. That’s something.”

They were in another warehouse, this one smaller and without guards. The floor was cement, and along three of the walls were long rows of cots. There had to be at least two hundred, but only about half were occupied—maybe fifty by the kids who had gone through the testing with Aubrey, and about that same number who had already been in the warehouse when the others had arrived. The fourth wall was lined with portable restrooms.

The center of the warehouse was a hodgepodge of tables and chairs, not in any order. A few minutes before, six soldiers had entered the warehouse with two metal carts, each stacked with military MREs—Meals, Ready-to-Eat—and dense cookies, like power bars.

A steel catwalk ran along the walls, high up, like in the other warehouse, but no guards were on it. There were only four doors. Two were up at the level of the catwalk, a third was connected to the testing offices, and on the far side of the warehouse was a twenty-foot-tall opening with a retractable metal covering. It was open, but no one was going out there—it seemed to be a long path, like a chain-link tunnel, with walls and roof.

Matt approached Aubrey and Jack’s table. “Can I sit here?”

Aubrey nodded. “Sure.”

Matt inspected his packet—bold black letters declared it to be spaghetti—and then he tore the top open.

“Have you heard what they said about this place?” he said, looking unenthusiastically inside the pouch.

“What do you mean?” Jack asked.

“All the kids in Utah are here,” Matt said. “Everyone.”

“That’s impossible,” Aubrey said. There were way too many teenagers in the state to fit into one . . . what was it? A prison? A camp?

Matt shrugged. “That’s what they said. And some kids from Nevada and Idaho, too.”

“That’s what who said?” Jack asked, after swallowing a bite of food.

“The others,” Matt said. “The guys in line.” He was ignoring his food now, staring outside. “There’s a kid named Sibley. He’s been here for three days.”

Jack tore open his cookie. It was thick like a brownie, and a shower of crumbs fell on the table as he cracked it in half. “Three days makes him an expert?”

Matt didn’t answer.

Aubrey looked down at her food and poked at it with her plastic fork. She wondered what her dad would eat without her around to cook for him. That world—her life—seemed far away.

“I’m one of them,” Matt said, still staring.

Aubrey speared a noodle and pulled it out of the pouch. “One of what?”

“Like Nate,” he said. “And Sibley.”

Jack’s head sprang up. Aubrey felt her heart beat faster but tried not to show it.

Matt’s eyes met Aubrey’s and then Jack’s. “We don’t have to pretend like that stuff with Nate didn’t happen. We can talk about it. We
should
talk about it.”

Aubrey took a deep breath and choked on a noodle. She coughed until the scratch went away. There was a third besides her and Nate? A third and a fourth?

“You know how I’m on the varsity basketball team?” Matt continued. “Even though I’ve never been any good?”

Aubrey nodded, holding her breath. Basketball season was months away, but the paper had already written about Matt being a potential all-American in both football and basketball. And not just the
Sanpete Messenger
, but the state papers. There was even talk about Matt getting featured on ESPN.

“I can’t miss a shot,” Matt said, finally turning his head to look at them.

Jack snorted, obviously annoyed. Aubrey knew they used to play together. “That’s good basketball. It’s not . . . whatever Nate was.”

Matt’s face reddened. He spoke slower and more clearly. “No. I mean I can’t miss a shot. I can’t blow a pass, even if the receiver stinks. I sometimes miss on purpose during games so that people don’t find out about me.”

“Right,” Jack said sarcastically. “I miss shots on purpose, too. That’s why I didn’t make the team.”

“I’m serious,” Matt said, getting frustrated. He looked around, searching for something, and finally grabbed his heavy cookie. “Point to something.”

Jack laughed, and pointed at a garbage can halfway across the warehouse.

Matt rolled his eyes. “Too easy.”

“Really?” Jack scoffed. “Then try the can by the wall—the red plastic one.”

Matt turned to Aubrey. “I’m serious. I can’t miss a shot.”

She smiled uncertainly, and then gestured to a far cot. “Do you see the boy with the shaved head? See his baseball cap next to him?”

Matt grinned, and then turned and, without any preparation, threw the cookie. It spun through the air, crossing over a dozen tables, and landed squarely in the sleeping boy’s hat.

Matt turned back to Aubrey. “Can I have yours?” Amazed, she handed him her cookie.

Without looking, he threw it behind him, over his shoulder, and then turned to watch as it wobbled through the air. It looked like it was going to fall short and to the left, but to Aubrey’s amazement the cookie plunked down into the same baseball cap.

A few people, who hadn’t been paying attention fully, clapped when they saw what he’d done.

“I can’t miss a shot,” Matt said again.

Jack lowered his voice, suddenly serious. “Why are you doing this in here? They’ll find you.”

Matt picked up his pouch again and looked inside. “They already swabbed my mouth. It’s too late.”

Aubrey glanced at Jack. Their eyes met for a moment and then she turned to Matt. “How do you know that’s what the test was about?”

“The guys who’ve been here longer,” Matt said. “They told me that’s what happens.” He set his pouch down on the table and stood. “Come on. I’ll take you to meet Sibley and the others.”