Take the Monkey and Run (29 page)

“How?” Emma asked. “This thing isn't on rollers.”

I turned to scan the room. “We need something to counteract the drugs.” I tried to think of something that would work on humans. “Look through the drawers for vials of Flumazenil. Smelling salts might even work.”

“Grace, look at this.” Ronnie was standing next to what looked like a high-tech workstation.

I rushed over, hoping she'd come across something useful.

Spools of wire and bits and pieces of unidentifiable metal and plastic parts were scattered over the table's surface. Ronnie held up something I recognized.

“Barry's earpiece?” I asked.

“I think so, but look at it.” Wires dangled from the earpiece like the tentacles of a bionic sea creature.

It was creepy, but it didn't help with Belinda's situation.

“Is this what he's doing? Putting wires in people's heads?” Ronnie's voice trembled with rage.

“Actually, I think he's doing that to himself.”

“What kind of a sick freak—”

“Ronnie, listen.” I took the Borg-inspired earpiece from
her and set it on the table. “We need to focus on getting Belinda out of here, okay?”

Ronnie met my eyes and for a second, I thought the anger I saw there was going to boil over. Instead, she pulled in a deep breath and nodded.

“Right. Yeah, okay.”

“Good.” I turned to the drawers and resumed my search. “Help me look through these.”

Belinda moaned.

“She's waking up,” Emma said. “Hey, Belinda. Can you hear me?”

“No,” Belinda groaned.

“It's going to be okay,” Emma soothed.

My sister was right—Belinda was waking up, but not fast enough.

I started going through drawers, looking for vials again.

“Where's Ronnie?” Emma said.

I hadn't even noticed that she'd left. I turned to where she'd been standing, seeing only empty space. “If I had to bet, I'd say she went to find her grandmother.” It was what I would do.

“Damn. Now we've got to get Belinda out of here and find Ronnie.”

“One thing at a time,” I said.

Belinda was struggling to sit up. My sister helped her.

“Grace? Emma? Oh, my head.”

“Can you stand?” Emma asked her.

“I don't know.”

“It's okay. We're going to get you out of here,” Emma said.

“I've got an idea,” I said, remembering something I'd seen in the room where the monkeys were caged. “There's a rolling desk chair down the hall that we can use as a wheelchair.”

“I got this,” Emma said with a firm grip around Belinda's waist. “Go.”

I squatted in front of Moss.

“I need you to stay here.”

Go.

No. Stay with Emma. Keep them safe. I'll be right back.

Go!

No, Moss.

I didn't have time to argue and the stupid energy field stopped me from communicating as easily as I needed to.

I was going to have to be sneaky.

“Stay.”

I backed out of the door and pulled it secure behind me. Though I'd moved only a few feet away, I could barely feel Moss's presence on the other side of the door. The farther away I moved, the less I could sense him. It felt very . . . lonely.

Shaking the feeling off, I tightened my grip on my stun gun and tiptoed down the hall as quickly as possible, stopping in front of the door leading to where the monkeys were caged. Placing my free hand on the knob, I muttered, “Please don't be locked.”

It wasn't.

With a relieved sigh, I pushed the door open—it swung in with a soft
swish
.

Keeping my focus on the chair and not the monkeys, I stepped into the room. A concussive blast of emotions slammed into me. My stun gun slipped from my fingers, clattered to the floor, and rolled away. Staggering to the side, I barely managed to keep my feet as the storm of images tore through my head. Flashes of light. Screams. The utter chaos of jumbled feelings. I was so confused that it took a moment to realize the information was coming from the monkeys.

Hugh and Kai must have disabled the tower.
Perfect timing, guys.

Gritting my teeth, I tried to wrestle my mental shield into place, but the tide was too strong.

I'd been linking my mind to animals my entire life—and
I'd never experienced anything like it. Dizzy, with my heart racing, I struggled to get my bearings.

The only thing I could do was try and calm the source of the torrent. I pulled in a breath. Only a fraction of the space in my head hadn't been invaded. I focused on that part and tried to use it to project calming thoughts toward the monkeys.

Damaged.

The word formed clearly in my mind, almost as if someone had spoken in my ear. And suddenly I understood how much devastating pain had been inflicted on the animals in that room.

A sudden, searing rage scorched through me. The monkeys responded to the tide of emotion. Screeching howls echoed in the room. They lunged and banged on the cage doors.

The thing about capuchin monkeys is that they are fast learners. Show them how to open the door to their cage a couple of times and they're good to go. Barry had been careful—he'd blocked the latch from view and made sure it was secured with a clip robust enough to be tough for little fingers to open. But that was not a problem for me.

I rushed to the cages and opened every one.

A loud electric snapping sound came from behind me.

I had just enough time to think
uh-oh
before the pain of many thousands of volts shot through my body.

The monkeys screamed in alarm. My back arched involuntarily. Rigid with pain and spasming muscles, I hit the ground temple first. Red lightning shattered my vision and everything splintered into blackness.

•••

Getting tased by your own stun gun is an embarrassing, unpleasant experience. Add the face-plant to the equation and when I came to, I was not keen to move or open my eyes.

It turned out to work in my favor because Anya and Barry were in the middle of an argument. Pretending to be unconscious allowed me to listen in.

“. . . reset the system,” Anya was saying.

“If we reboot now, everything will go off for thirty seconds,” Barry answered. “Power, lights, everything. Even this.”

I hadn't opened my eyes so I didn't know what “this” was.

“Do you have another solution? Soon, those two will reach the top of the tower. You see that piece of metal he is carrying? I do not think he means to twirl it like a baton.”

“No.” Barry's voice was a disbelieving whisper.

“Yes,” Anya snapped. “He is going to use that to smash your precious machine. Look at what is happening.”

I knew they had to be watching some sort of camera feed. Which meant I wasn't in the same room I'd been in when I blacked out. I desperately wanted to open my eyes but kept up the charade. The more freely they talked, the better.

“The monkeys are loose,” Anya continued. “The test subject is going to escape.”

“Damn it! Why did you leave your post to go after her? She's worthless.”

“It does not matter. What's done is done. We must focus on a solution. Before those men reach the top of the tower.”

“I have a solution,” Barry said.

“What? You think you can shoot them?” Her tone was mocking.

“No. But I can electrocute them.”

Oh shit.

“Good. I like it,” Anya said. “Get it done and get back here.”

Barry's footsteps faded. With him gone, there wasn't a reason to keep playing possum. I opened my eyes to find I was lying on the floor of a large room.

It looked as if it had originally been a pavilion or cafeteria.

Doesn't matter
, I told myself. Barry was on his way to electrocute Kai and Hugh.

I needed to get my bearings and figure out a plan. Judging from the state of my clothing and the scrapes that stung the length of my back, I guessed Anya had grabbed me by the
ankles and dragged me into this room. Which meant I wasn't far from where I'd left Emma, Belinda, and Moss.

Slowly, I turned my head. Anya was seated in a cheap office chair with her back to me in front of a couple of long, folding tables, similar to the ones you'd see at a family reunion.

There were six monitors sitting side by side on the tables. Three on each. Two were dedicated to the front and rear entrances to the park. Nothing going on there. Another showed the room where the monkeys had been kept and explained how Anya had known where to find me. The desk was in disarray and the cage doors hung open. No capuchins in sight. Good. At least they had a chance.

Given my supine position, and the angle, I couldn't see the monitors on the second table.

I was pretty sure that if she'd wanted to kill me, she'd have done it, so moving wouldn't put me in danger. Plus, I really wanted to get a look at the second set of monitors. I decided it was best to roll onto my side rather than try to do a sit-up.

I made it into the fetal position and had to take a break.

Concussed. No question.

“I told Barry we wouldn't have to tie you up.” Anya swiveled in her chair to watch me. She held a small pistol in her right hand, but kept it resting on her thigh. “It seems I was right.”

She was.

If I could get to my feet, I was pretty sure I could walk. I also knew I wouldn't get far.

I had to think of a way to even the odds.

My scrambled brain kept going back to the reset button Anya had talked about. If I could find it, I could cut the power. No power meant no electrocutions.

Problem number one—even without the concussion, I was no match for Anya. According to Logan, she was a trained killer, with or without the gun.

I groaned as I used my arms to get my body into a mostly upright position.

As I moved, something inside my coat slipped to the floor next to my hip. I looked down at the balled-up piece of paper.

At first, I thought a wad of trash had gotten caught in my coat, then I remembered Marvo.

I was looking at the smoke bomb he'd given me.

I almost laughed in giddy disbelief, but soon realized the bomb would do me no good if I couldn't find the reset button.

Under normal circumstances, a wall of smoke between Anya and me might give me a chance to get away. But injured?

Blinking my blurry eyes, I tried to assess my surroundings.

The monitors on the second table were visible now. One displayed what I'd loosely call the operating room. There seemed to be two cameras in the room, with the picture flashing back and forth between two different angles. I could clearly see my sister and Belinda. When the screen jumped to the second camera, Moss came into the frame.

He paced back and forth in front of the door.

I knew, even without my ability to reach him, that he wanted desperately to come after me, and I was grateful he didn't have opposable thumbs. If Emma opened the door and let him out, he'd head straight for me and run into one of Anya's bullets.

Stay put, Emma, please
.

One of the last two monitors displayed a view of the cell tower. The picture jumped between two angles, like the one showing the operating room. Both perspectives showed Kai and Hugh climbing the central column via an affixed ladder.

The other monitor also had two camera feeds. One displayed a long, dark hallway; the second showed a small room with a bunk. On it, a frail form was huddled.

Her face was turned away, but I recognized the silly bunny slippers.

Hattie.

The derelict building and dim lighting combined with
the images on the screens were like something out of a horror flick.

Reset
—I reminded myself.

I needed to get to my feet. But before I could do that, I'd have to pick up the smoke bomb without Anya noticing. And she was watching me intently with a strange look on her face.

“What?” I asked her. “Never seen a concussed psychic before?”

“Many times.”

“Of course you have.”

I placed my palm on the ground next to the bomb and shuffled onto my hands and knees. My head was pounding, but it was manageable.

For Anya, I made sure to let every bit of pain show. Better for her to underestimate me and think I was weaker than I was. Though in reality, if I'd been any weaker I would've been unconscious.

With a groan I didn't have to fake, I wobbled onto my knees. As I moved, I grabbed the smoke bomb, keeping it wadded in my hand and my body angled so it was out of Anya's line of sight. With effort, I slowly got to my feet.

“Why am I here?” I asked once the room stopped spinning. “You could've shot me.”

“I recently learned you are important to someone I wish to punish.”

It took me a second to understand what she meant.

“Logan?”

“We have unfinished business.”

I tried to roll my eyes but it hurt too much.

“Lady, you're turning out to be one big cliché—you know that?”

“You think so?”

“Yep.”

“Here is another cliché. The damsel in distress is used as bait to lure her rescuer to his death.”

“You can't really believe that's going to work on Logan.”

“Logan,” she scoffed. “Such a stupid American name.”

“What happened? Did he out-spy you or something?”

“No. He murdered everyone I loved and now I will do the same.”

Not the answer I'd been expecting.

I knew of only one person Logan loved, if someone like Logan was capable of love: a sixteen-year-old girl named Brooke.

Reset button.
I shook my head slowly and tried to think. If I were installing a reset button for some giant, advanced, psychic force field in an abandoned building, where would I put it? Not on the table where something could accidentally be set on top of it. Not on the ground for the same reason. On the wall maybe?