Set Me Free (3 page)

“But you were unconscious,” Evelyn points out.

“I was,” I tell her. “At first. But then I started to come out of it. It was like waking up from a really deep sleep, the kind where you can’t tell if you’re dreaming. I remember hearing voices. They seemed muffled and I could only make out maybe every other word.” I am struggling to recall the sounds and sensations, and that’s when the memory hits me.

“It hurt!” I exclaim, my hand going instinctively to my left arm. “I remember feeling it! The nurse was preparing a hypodermic needle!”

“Yep,” says Jonah. “That’s when I knew that they had big plans for you. They weren’t gonna just wait around
for those ‘special spices’ in their soy burgers to take effect on Madeleine Frye.” He lets out a long rush of breath.

Now I understand why my mind’s been rolling back and forth like it has. The drugs are still wearing off. I’m filled with disgust. The thought of chemicals in my body makes me sick.

“That is twisted and evil,” Rosie says, curling her hands into fists.

“I guess the stab of that needle is what brought me out of my daze,” I say. “But I didn’t cry out. I didn’t even flinch. I was so afraid of what they would do to me if they knew I was awake that I just stayed perfectly still and kept my eyes closed.”

“So you
did
hear what they were saying,” Ryan prompts. “What were they talking about?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to remember. “Something about a storm, maybe?”

“So they were talking about the weather,” sighs Evelyn, disappointed. “Everyone does that.”

The weather
is
a common topic of conversation since it’s so unpredictable these days. The week before we went
to CMS there was a windstorm that took out windows and downed power lines all over Chicago. The next day it was nearly ninety degrees and the day after that it went down to almost freezing.

I push my thoughts backward, struggling to hear the echo of the nurses’ conversation. “They were also talking about something … irresistible,” I report.

“Irresistible?” says Ryan. “You mean like choco-soy cupcakes?”

I shake my head, wishing I could chase down the memory. Evelyn gives me a reassuring look, and I hope I will remember when I need to.

We can see the stadium in the distance now. The van grows quiet as we make our final approach. Hopefully Drew and Alonso and Helen are there.

And hopefully, the mutants aren’t.

Ryan guides the van to the curb in front of Wrigley Field. We climb out and stare silently at the gigantic, crumbling stadium looming above us like some haunted castle. At one time, or so my parents had told me, the big red
sign was a proud symbol of our city. Now the once-brilliant red has faded to a sickly pinkish color, and most of the letters are missing

“Home … o … hi … ago … ubs,” reads Ryan.

“I think it’s supposed to say, home of Chicago Cubs,” says Evelyn. “The sign used to light up.”

“Must have been cool,” says Rosie.

“I remember baseball,” says Ryan. There is sadness in his eyes as he absently punches his right hand into his left palm, as though wearing an imaginary baseball mitt. “My dad kept all his old equipment from when he was a kid, and we used to play catch in the backyard. Mom would bring us out lemonade and watch.”

We take one more wistful look at the sign before we silently summon the courage to enter beneath it.

We pass single file through the least-rusted turnstile and find ourselves in a broad, shadowy corridor. The walls and floor are made of cement, which creates a sort of echo-chamber effect.

And unfortunately, what’s echoing through it right now is the sound of footsteps.

T
he sound ricochets off the cold gray walls, getting closer by the second. The footsteps are slow, heavy, and weirdly offbeat. The rhythm starts with a
thud
, and ends with a
thump
, with this eerie, elongated scraping sound in between.
Thud-draaaaggg-thump-clunk … thud-draaaaggg-thump-clunk …

I hold my breath. Louisa grabs my hand.

“He’s getting closer,” Rosie whispers.

“Whatever ‘he’ is,” gulps Evelyn. She looks like she’s rethinking her opinions on the mutants.

Now the footsteps stop entirely, and the echo ripples in the silence. And then, the voice.

The voice asks, “Who’s there?”

Evelyn and I nearly jump out of our skins. Louisa squeezes my hand so hard I feel my knuckles crack. Rosie, though, squares her shoulders and says in a courageous tone, “Show yourself first.”

There is a moment of hesitation that seems to last a lifetime, and then there is another short series of
thuds
and
drags
, and then there he is.

He’s not a mutant. He’s just a normal guy, maybe about Ivan’s age: eighteen or so. Like Ivan, he’s well built and lean, but I notice that he’s using a cane, which explains the clunking sound. It’s not an actual cane he’s leaning on, but a baseball bat. His hair is a little scraggly and his hazel eyes are wary, but not menacing.

“What’s the password?” the guy demands.

Obviously, we have no idea.

“Listen,” says Ryan, his voice cracking only a little. “We have reason to believe our friends are here. If you can tell us where they are, we’ll get out of your way.”

And that’s when I hear the shouting — two familiar,
muffled voices calling for help.
Drew and Alonso
. I can tell Rosie hears it, too. She shoots a quick look at Louisa, who turns and sends the silent look to me. Maybe our adventure has turned us into mind readers or maybe it’s just common sense, but I know what they’re thinking:
This guy walks in slow motion. We can outrun him and get to our friends
.

Of course, if he’s armed, the mad dash they’re contemplating will be the worst idea in history. I tamp down every rational thought in my brain. They’re willing; I should be, too.

Rosie gives us a signal with her eyes, and in the next second, she, Louisa, and I are running. We bolt right past the guy, catching him completely off guard. I can’t be sure if the others have heard the shouting, too, or if they just follow us in a show of blind trust, but Evelyn, Ryan, and Jonah take off a split second after we do.

We get to the end of the corridor and thunder down a short flight of cement steps. There, tied to each other, back-to-back, are Drew and Alonso.

Fortunately, they appear to be unhurt. Alonso’s brown eyes show his gratitude as Rosie and Evelyn immediately set about untying them.

“Maddie!” shouts Drew. “You’re all right!” As soon as he’s free, he throws his arms around me in a brotherly hug, nearly knocking his wire-rimmed glasses off his face.

“I guess the plan at the Phoenix worked out okay?” Alonso asks, grinning at me.

I nod, still feeling a little numb. I’m grateful when Evelyn jumps in and explains to Drew and Alonso about Ivan, our escape, and the revelation that my mom is the Hornet. Drew and Alonso look stunned and impressed — especially Drew. He’s looking at me as if with new eyes.

“I never knew,” I tell them, feeling a mix of conflicting emotions. “But are you guys all right?” I ask, wanting to change the subject for the moment.

“We’re fine,” says Alonso. “That guy with the bat’s actually pretty decent. After he tied us up, he looked at both our injuries. He wrapped my knee and re-bandaged Drew’s shoulder.”

So these were the injuries Evelyn mentioned. I remember that Drew tried to stop my kidnappers by slamming his shoulder into the car door. He tried to save me. First Drew, then Jonah. I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all. I give Drew a smile of thanks. Secretly, though, I don’t like the fact that when it comes to being a damsel in distress, I would be considered a repeat offender. I find myself wishing I could be as self-reliant as Evelyn, or as brave as Louisa, or as in control as Rosie.

Or as All of the Above as my mother.

“So, wait,” says Ryan. “If this guy is such a good sport, why’d he, you know,
tie you up
?”

“He said he needed to be sure our story checked out and we weren’t gang members,” Alonso explains. “We told him you’d probably be coming here and you’d vouch for us.”

“You knew we’d be coming?” Evelyn asks, looking at Alonso with a kind of openness and relief that makes me realize she might … like him. A lot. And Alonso nods at Evelyn, looking at her in the same way.
Hmm
.

For a second, I glance at Jonah, and my heart somersaults.

“Hey,” says Drew with a slow smile, his dark eyes crinkling up. “Which one of you figured out the Cheezy-Wizard clue?”

“Louisa did,” says Rosie proudly, and Louisa turns pink as Drew and Alonso thank her.

Evelyn is thrilled to see that Drew and Alonso remembered to bring along our backpacks when they fled the car wash, so what meager supplies and information we had is still safe. Louisa glances around, frowning.

“Wait. Where’s Helen?” she asks.

“She came with us as far as the stadium,” Drew explains. “But she was worried about her brother, Troy.”

“She said she was going to try to find him,” says Alonso. “She had to make sure he was all right.”

I notice Rosie nodding, because she totally gets that. She’s been looking for her sister for years.

“Helen asked us to tell all of you good-bye,” says Alonso. “And good luck.”

Louisa smiles. “Maybe we’ll run into her again sometime. And Troy, too.”

That’s Louisa. Always finding the bright side of things, always hoping for the best.

“Run
into?”
Rosie asks, grinning wickedly. “That’s a nice way to put it. Don’t you remember the first time we ‘ran into’ them? When they had me in a headlock?”

Louisa laughs. “Okay, okay. Good point.”

At that same moment, Alonso and Drew seem to notice Jonah for the first time. They raise their eyebrows at him, this new boy in their midst, and Jonah looks down again, sticking his hands in his pockets. I’m starting to introduce him when we hear the
thud-draaaaggg-thump-clunk
sound. The guy with the bat is approaching us. But this time his expression is no longer one of mistrust. He actually seems relieved.

“I should have known you guys were telling the truth,” he tells Drew and Alonso. “You didn’t look gang-affiliated.”

Then, for some reason, he looks at me. His expression is focused and intent, as though he’s trying to place
where he knows me from. But I’ve never seen him before.

“We’re not,” Rosie says stonily. “But before we tell you who
we
are … why don’t you tell us?”

At first, he looks a little taken aback at being challenged by a thirteen-year-old girl. Then he answers her. “I’m Dizzy,” he says simply. “I live here.”

We each go around and give our first names only. We say nothing about where we’ve come from or why. You can’t be too careful. Jonah barely mutters his name. When I say “Maddie,” Dizzy looks at me with a jolt of recognition. I don’t think it’s my name he recognizes, though.

Evelyn is the last one to speak. She says her name, then narrows her eyes at Dizzy. “So your name is really
Dizzy
?” she asks him incredulously.

“It’s a nickname,” he explains. “My real name is Dean, but a long time ago there was this great baseball player — a pitcher for the Cubs — who went by the nickname Dizzy Dean. I figured since I’m living in the stadium he once called home, it was kind of a nice tribute.”

“I’m just glad you’re not some three-headed mutant, with spikes growing out of your spine,” says Ryan.

“Oh, that guy …” Dizzy jerks his thumb toward the exit. “He lives over at Union Stock Yard. We occasionally meet for lunch, though.”

Something about the chuckle just under his words makes me realize.

“You started the rumors!” I exclaim. “You made up all that mutant stuff yourself!”

Dizzy answers with a grin that makes him look as boyish as Ryan. “I can’t take all the credit,” he confesses. “Those crazy legends have been floating around since the day they closed the stadium. Let’s just say I made a point of perpetuating them and, while I was at it, embellishing them a bit.”

“Just to keep people out?” says Louisa. “For privacy?”

“It’s more than privacy, isn’t it?” Rosie challenges him again. “You’re hiding out for another reason.”

Dizzy swallows, and looks at each of us carefully. Then he lets out a breath and says, “I’m a Resistance
soldier.” There’s a beat of silence and I feel a wave of, well, dizziness sweep over me. Dizzy glances away, then clarifies, “Well, a former Resistance soldier, at any rate.”

“Former?” Evelyn’s on alert now. “Are you a traitor?” she demands. “A double agent?” Her hands curl into fists and she takes a step forward.

Surprisingly, when Rosie reaches out to pull Evelyn back, the gesture is friendly, not bossy, like I would have expected from Rosie. This is weird because back at CMS these two bickered constantly.

“Relax. He’s obviously no longer active because of his injury.” Rosie turns back to the guy. “Right? You were injured in the line of duty, fighting for the Resistance.”

“That is correct.” The guy shifts on his wounded leg, then looks pointedly at me. “Which is why I know your mother.”

The floor seems to drop out from under me. I can only gawk at him, speechless. Is this a trap or a trick? What can I say?

“Why should I believe you?” I manage to get out.

Dizzy eyes me steadily. “You look just like her,” he says, as a sort of answer. “You are the daughter of Lorraine Frye, are you not?” he asks. “Or, as we call her, the Hornet.”

Lorraine
. My mother’s name. I hadn’t thought of it in so long. And I know I do look like my mom — we have the same fair skin and curly hair. People would tell us all the time. I don’t think Dizzy is lying.

“I can’t believe your mom is the
Hornet
,” Drew says, sounding stunned.

“I’m just as shocked as you,” I tell him. My mind is reeling and I can feel all my friends watching me as I look back at Dizzy. “Yes, I am her daughter,” I say.

Dizzy nods back at me. “I was sure,” he says softly. “I didn’t know her well. I don’t even know where she is stationed now. But it was an honor to serve under her. She’s a brave and brilliant woman.”

I want to ask Dizzy so much more — what exactly my mom was doing as the Hornet, if he knows anything
about my dad … But I hold my tongue. I’m still not entirely sure I can trust him.

Rosie seems to read my mind. “So if you’re really in the Resistance,” she says, and there’s still a challenge in her voice, “do you know someone named Ivan?”

Dizzy smiles. “Of course. Ivan Franks. We graduated from boot camp together and entered the main ranks of the Resistance. He’s a heck of a soldier. Last I heard, he was stationed as a spy at the Phoenix Center. And his girlfriend, Wren Chavez, is with the Hornet — wherever that might be.”

Rosie lets out a gasp at her sister’s name. The rest of us exchange glances. We all seem to silently agree that Dizzy is legit. Which means he really
knows my mom
.

“So how did you end up here?” Jonah asks Dizzy.

Dizzy’s smile fades. “Several months back, I was part of a reconnaissance unit up near the Canadian border. We heard there were the beginnings of an Alliance threat in the area. It was supposed to be an easy assignment, which it was. Until I had a little run-in with a grenade.”

I lower my eyes and study my fingernails. The others are quiet, too.

“The Alliance soldier who threw it was about my age; I guess he got separated from his patrol squad, and when he saw me and my team, he panicked. Anyway, my buddies patched me up as best they could and got me back to Chicago, but a hospital was out of the question. We have to fly under the radar. I got the idea of taking up residence in this place. People already gave it a wide berth — even the cops and the Alliance tended to steer clear of it. All I had to do was keep the rumors afloat.”

Louisa glances around, taking in the enormity of the old stadium. “You must get lonely.”

“A little. Although, lately, I’ve been receiving visitors.”

“Visitors?” Louisa echoes.

“It started by accident, actually. It was during one of those really intense electrical storms. A couple of street kids ducked in here looking for shelter. When we ran into each other, well, it’s hard to say who was more scared,
me or them. I thought they were sent by the authorities to take me in; they were expecting the three-headed guy with the spikes. It took some very cautious negotiating, but we worked out a deal. A barter arrangement.”

“Barter?” says Evelyn. “You mean like trade?”

“Exactly,” says Dizzy. “They’ve got it tough out there. I, on the other hand, am living in the lap of luxury. I even was able to get the electricity in this place up and running.”

“Where did you learn how to do that?” I ask.

“The Resistance doesn’t just train us for combat; they educate us in all different areas of practical skills. Which is how I was also able to tap into one of the water mains the public works department must have forgotten about.”

“So you let these street kids come here during storms and when they need medical attention,” says Rosie. “What do they do for you?”

“They bring me food, when they can find it. The concession stands have freezers, so I can store things for a long time. They also do their part to keep the mutant rumors circulating, thus ensuring my continued privacy.

It’s a pretty exclusive guest list. I have to be really selective about the kids I deal with. No one even remotely affiliated with the gangs is welcome. But the kids I’ve gotten to know and trust can let their friends in on the deal. They’ve got to give the password before I let them in.”

“And when Drew and Alonso showed up,” Evelyn says, putting it all together, “they didn’t know the password, so you tied them up.”