Forbidden Fire (Forbidden #2) (6 page)

Lucy ran her hand over the chrome desks as they walked out, thinking back to the rich mahogany wood that had once sat there. Why take out all the nice furniture? The grunts could've at least pretended to fit in.

She had a theory that they needed this set-up to convince themselves they were real men doing a real job.
Because holding guns on a school full of kids and teenagers is
so
brave.

A guard let them out of the building, and bright sunlight blinded her. Two hours of interrogations was two hours too long.

Luke slung his arm over her shoulders. "You hungry?"

"Starved!"

They walked the winding paths to The Hub, a place that had once, not so long ago, been festive and fun. Despite the onslaught of ugly from their new "guests," the cobbled walking paths and perfectly manicured lawns, shrubs and trees refused to give up all of their Oxford-like charm. The cold season had sent its calling card early this year, in light dustings of snow, and the campus looked like a winter wonderland.

Lucy and Sam had loved this season. The campus came alive with lighted Christmas trees, choirs singing and festive decorations that lined walkways.

Lucy didn't think this year would be very jolly.

All the shops in The Hub remained open for business, but with armed guards lining the cobbled sidewalks, it didn't attract as many students as it once had. Still, they needed food, and the cafeteria had closed about halfway into their little chat with the
Men in Black
.

A bell jingled as they walked into
Café Amour
—an ironic name given the campus's very
un
-loving environment—and took a seat by the window. As busy as they'd been with classes and getting used to the change of regime, they hadn't been to the café since before the 'invasion.' It was nice to return to something semi-normal.

They sat at their usual table in the corner. The café boasted a French theme, with black and white photos of the Eiffel Tower lining the coffee colored walls.

"So, did you catch him in any lies?" Luke asked.

They'd been speaking in their made-up language more in the last week than in their entire lives combined, it seemed.

"No. He didn't offer any information, probably so he could avoid lying."

"Luce, you could've asked him a question and watched for signs. You should be a natural, like in that show
Lie to Me
."

"Ha! I'll work on it. Sucks that they canceled that show."

A skinny blond waitress came over to take their order.

Lucy closed the menu she'd been holding without looking in it. "Where's Amy, the girl who used to work here?" She noticed a new face behind the counter as well. A disturbing thought came to her. "And the rest of the staff?"

The waitress looked up from her pad and Lucy gasped at the vacant, deadened eyes that stared back at her. "They're gone. New management. What can I get you?"

Lucy found her voice and placed her order. "Hot turkey sandwich with mashed potatoes and a Coke, please."

"And I'll have—"

The blond interrupted Luke. "Sorry, we don't have hot turkey sandwiches anymore—or Coke. Read the new menu."

Luke and Lucy both opened their menus, actually reading them for the first time in about a year.

The menu had been redone, and had only three choices:

Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich $7.99

Cold Turkey Sandwich $9.99         

Bottled Water $3.99

Lucy glared at the girl. "What the hell kind of crap is this? You're overcharging us for
this
?"

The waitress backed away and raised her hands. "Don't blame me. Talk to the people in charge. We can only serve what they give us."

Lucy and Luke shared a glance, then got up and walked out, slamming the door behind them.

Lucy's deliberate steps quickened into an angry run. "I can't believe this crap, what the hell is going on here?"

Luke kept easy pace beside her. "I don't know, but things are going from bad to worse. Whatever trouble Sam and Drake caused by escaping, I think it's just the beginning."

The headmaster's offices sat in the center of campus in a converted mansion that might have graced an early twentieth-century English landscape. It retained its old world dignity despite the slew of guards hovering around the main entrance like bored flies.

The head fly stepped forward as they approached.

"State your business."

Lucy slowed her breathing enough to scowl at the man. "You've got to be kidding me. We need to speak to the headmaster. Duh." She gestured at the building.

"He's not available."

Luke flexed his muscles—trying to look badass, Lucy assumed—and stepped forward. "He has an open door policy. He can't be unavailable."

"What is the nature of your request?" asked the drone in black.

Why so much black?
Lucy wondered.
Like guards gone Goth around here. Ugh.
"I'm hungry." Lucy pushed her petite frame into his personal space. "And the food here has turned to shit. Overpriced shit at that. We need to talk to the Headmaster.
Now
."

"All administrative and campus-related questions must go through the new headquarters."

Lucy frowned. "You mean that sorry excuse for a bunker with all the
Men in Black
wannabes? No way." Had Headmaster Higgins become someone's puppet?

Speak of the devil. The headmaster himself walked by, catching Lucy's eye as he did.

She shoved the guard aside, who stumbled in surprise. "What's going on, Headmaster? Why can't we talk to you? Why the food change and all the guards?"

The headmaster fidgeted with his briefcase. His normally impeccably tailored suit was wrinkled and frumpy. Deep lines marred the dark skin of his face, and dark bags hung under his eyes.

"I can't talk about it, Lucy, I'm sorry." He wasn't lying. Whatever he meant by "can't" was truth to him. "Just do what they say." He walked away, leaving them surrounded by angry guards.

Luke dragged her out and steered her towards their dorm room, located in another mansion on campus, built in similar style to the headmaster's offices but on a smaller scale. "Well?"

"He's not lying. And he's in trouble. Something really bad is happe—"

A voice erupted from the loudspeaker. "ATTENTION STUDENTS. CURFEW IS NOW 9 P.M. BE IN YOUR DORMS BY 9 P.M."

Luke stared at the sky as though the man behind the voice would magically appear there. "That was succinct."

"Yeah. Let's get out of here. We need to start thinking of a plan."

***

The twins shared a suite on the floor lovingly referred to as the Creepy Crawly Ward. They'd just made it to their door when two of the younger students, a freshman and a sophomore, approached them.

Lucy couldn't remember their names or para-powers, but like all the Rent-A-Kids, she did recognize them from around campus.

"Luke, Lucy, I'm glad we caught you. Can we talk in your room?"

Luke raised an eyebrow. Lucy shrugged. They opened their door and let the boys into their spacious common room.

Luke flopped into a recliner and gestured to the overstuffed couch. "You guys can sit. What's up?"

The freshman shook his head once and stood in the middle of the modest room, twitching as though a bug had crawled up his pants. His friend stood next to him with his eyes shut and lips pressed into a tight line.

Lucy leaned against the couch and cleared Luke's dirty clothes off it, but didn't sit down. Her stomach grumbled loud enough for the whole room to hear.

The freshman spoke to the floor. "I'm Gary. This is Greg. Umm... well, a few of us were wondering... since, like, you were, like, best friends with Sam—you know, the girl who escaped—that maybe you'd like to join us in a Freedom Fighter meeting tonight." Only after he'd gotten all those painful words out did he finally attempt eye contact, albeit briefly.

Luke's face hardened and he shot Lucy a warning look.

She nodded. Best play it safe. "You know our rooms,
everyone's rooms
, are under surveillance."

The boy smiled and nodded to his friend. "Greg disrupts electrical waves and can manipulate surveillance equipment. Right now, anyone listening will hear a loop of silence until we're done. They'll also see an empty room."

Lucy was impressed despite herself. "What are the Freedom Fighters?"

Gary's voice dropped to a barely perceptible whisper. "A group of students are coming together to, you know, fight back, and... escape."

The last word floated on the air so gently, Lucy wasn't sure whether she'd really heard it or only imagined it. How could they possibly escape with the campus under heightened security? If it was impossible before Sam and Drake got away, it was even less likely now. No, they weren't stupid enough to get involved in something that crazy. It would be suicide.

The boy's brown eyes turned into saucers, pleading with Lucy. "Will you at least come to the meeting and see what it's about?"

She looked at Luke, whose face had an odd expression of rage and mania. Did he
want
to do this?
Not happening. No way, no how.
She crossed her arms and held her ground.

The police station did not match the image I'd conjured from my mind. Maybe too many
Law & Order
reruns had corrupted me. The attractive Spanish style structure with warm honey tones reminded me more of a country club.

Brad took the lead when we walked in, telling the clerk whom we were there to see. Drake and I sat on a bench against the wall and waited.

'Are you nervous?'
he asked.

"Yes. What if they don't believe us? What if they lock us up?"

He squeezed my hand.
'Even if they don't believe us, we aren't committing any crimes. Don't worry, we'll be fine.'

Brad sat down on the other side of me, sandwiching me between the two of them. "My contact is on the phone right now. It'll be a few minutes."

I clutched at my purse. Despite the class of the building, the police station still teemed with some interesting characters.

A guy dressed as an attractive woman sat across from us, tapping his—her?—foot impatiently and holding a bag to his chest.

A woman wearing nothing but an elastic, red body suit, with so many holes it revealed more than it covered, walked by in handcuffs, escorted by a young officer in uniform. She stumbled on her stilettos, but I caught her arm and helped her back up.

She gave me a blank, glassy-eyed stare.
'Need some... gotta get some... body aches... hurts... burning... pain... need to get out of here....'

Her sunken cheeks and emaciated form made me shudder. Before, I might have passed judgment, but now I understood what it was like to come off something like that. Granted, my addiction had been forced on me, but detox would have been very hard if I'd had access to the drugs my body craved.

"Oh shit!" The guys exclaimed in unison. Two elbows jabbed me at the same time.

"Hey, watch it!"

Drake's face fell. "Look at the television, Sam. We've got to get out of here."

I looked, and immediately wished I hadn't. My face stared back at me from a picture taken at Rent-A-Kid earlier that year. A perky newscaster smiled as she read from the teleprompter. "Sam is a troubled runaway who escaped from an institution early last week, and is mentally unstable, delusional, and considered dangerous. She is in need of medication and treatment immediately. If you see her, please call this hotline at 1-800-555-1211. There is a $10,000 reward for any leads that result in her apprehension."

Drake grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the building. The Southern California heat hit me hard after being in the air-conditioned office. My stomach lurched, and I spun towards the manicured lawns to empty it.
God, I hate throwing up.

Brad cleared this throat. "We've got to go. Can you walk? We need to get to the car before anyone sees you."

***

I paid little attention to the rest of the world as we drove. My mind went numb. Too much had already happened that day; I just couldn't think about another thing. I needed a bath, a toothbrush and a nap.

Which is why I didn't sense the intruder when we pulled into the carport at Brad's apartment.

Or when we walked upstairs to his unit.

The broken-in door got my attention though.

***

Drake immediately stepped in front of me, shielding me from the apartment with his body. He spoke to Brad through clenched teeth, "Get her out of here!"

'Go back to the car with Brad. Get as far away as you can. I'll contact you when it's safe.'