The Forbidden Trilogy (29 page)

Brad glanced at me. "Could you draw him?"

"Yes." I grabbed my purse, pulled out my sketchpad
and pencils. The supple leather brought back memories I tried hard to push
aside. Instead, I closed my eyes and pictured the man in my mind. After a few
minutes, a sketch of him covered the paper, detailed enough so any of us could
recognize him.

"I can't believe how fast you did that. You
are
good!" Brad said.

"I told you, Dude, she's incredible. You should see
some of the sketches she did of me before we'd even met in person. They're
amazing!"

My face flushed at the compliments, but then the memories
returned, and my heart sank into my gut. I missed Mr. K, my mentor and art
teacher. The evil Dr. Pana had killed him and destroyed all of my artwork,
including a painting that could have made my career in New York. My mind
drifted to the life I should have had. Had the Sarah Lawrence College art
program really accepted me? What would they say if I called to check on my
application? Any chance my tuition was actually paid?

I mentally kicked myself in the head.
Of course not,
dummy.
Rent-A-Kid never intended for me to leave the medical clinic. Why
would they shell out money for an education I'd never use? At least that
bastard Pana was dead.

My old dreams were just as dead, and I needed a new plan,
one that included Drake and our baby and, apparently, Brad. They loved it here,
but did I? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stay in this area. I’d always had my
heart set on New York. The constant sun and Barbie Doll girls walking around
didn't bother me... much. Maybe that would change. My pale skin and brown hair
didn't exactly scream local, either, but whatever. If I couldn't handle being
different from everyone else, I had bigger problems than hair color and lack of
pigmentation.

I could get used to it here. The perfect weather, scent of
salt-water and ever-present sound of crashing waves soothed me, even if I
didn't love everything about Southern California. Like the sagging palm trees
with their bloated hula skirts that lined the streets.
Why did people like
them so much?
Palms had to be the ugliest trees ever.

Drake nudged me from the backseat. "What are you
thinking about?"

"Can't you just slip in and find out for
yourself?" I countered, more harshly than I'd intended.

He softened his voice. "Sometimes I like to have actual
conversations."

"Thank you," said Brad. "Someone is finally
considering
my
feelings in all this."

"Yeah, dude, because it's all about you," said
Drake.

"Palm trees," I blurted out.

"Palm trees?" They both spoke in unison.

"Yes. Horrible, ugly, abomination of nature palm trees!
That's what I was thinking about."

Drake laughed. "Here I thought it was something
serious."

"This is very serious. Have you seen those
things?" I gestured to the outside, where they all lived, hundreds of
eyesores littering California's coastline.

At Rent-A-Kid, we had
real
trees: pines and aspens
and Douglas firs, trees that stood tall and proud and filled the air with the
heady scent of woods.

I missed my life there at times, as strange as that may have
seemed. Life had been good, at least the parts that passed as normal for my
friends and me.

I glanced down at the sketch in my hands. The scary man's
eyes stared at me as if trying to read
my
mind.

Nothing felt normal anymore.

"Drake, I think it's time we tried to link to Luke and
Lucy. We need to tell them what's going on."

"Are you sure you're strong enough? Last time it took
you days to recover, and you've been sick for weeks."

"I know, but I have a bad feeling about all this. We
need more information."

The large man in the dark suit glared at Lucy. "Tell me
about her friends. Who did she hang out with? Who would she contact on the
outside for help?"

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and gave him her worst
evil eye. Such a stereotype, as if he'd just walked off the set of
Men in
Black
. He just needed the sunglasses to complete the look. "I've told
you everything. Sam didn't know anyone on the outside. None of us do. How would
we? As for her friends—we were it, and really only out of pity. She was a total
loner. We felt sorry for her."

Mr. Black—
Could that seriously be his real name?—
was
the new "Head Grunt" at Rent-A-Kid. His brown, high-and-tight crew
cut screamed ex-military, as did the way he stood at attention and wore his
suit as if it were a uniform. He towered over her, probably going for the
intimidating look, his beady brown eyes staring at her over his crooked nose.

He slammed his meaty fist on the table. "Look,
smartass, I've got a guy questioning your brother. I may not have super powers
like you freaks, but I
will
find out if you're lying."

Lucy didn't flinch. "Luke will tell you the same thing.
We hung out with her once in a while, to make her feel better. Yeah, she was
our friend, but we didn't know she was planning to escape. I thought she was in
New York. Why isn't she in New York, by the way? Why did she need to escape at
all?"

The man reached for the gun in his holster, then moved his
hand away when he saw Lucy watching him. Lucy waited for him to answer, to say
anything.

His voice hovered on the brink of a scream. "I'm asking
the questions here, not you. Who is her outside contact? She must have one.
Tell me now!"

Lucy grumbled in frustration. He had to actually answer a
question for her lie-detecting para-power to work. Either he knew that and
avoided giving her what she needed, or he was just a pain in the ass naturally.
She suspected both. "You can yell at me all you want, Mr. Black. I can't
tell you what I don't know. Would you rather I make something up just to get
you off my back?"

Behind her, a door opened and closed. Lucy turned.

The man who'd been sent to interrogate Luke stood with a
creased brow, sweaty pits, and a frown that made Lucy fight back a laugh. It
looked as though he'd had as much luck with her twin as Mr. Black had with her.
Bummer.

The two men stormed out of the room, taking copious amounts
of testosterone with them.

Lucy leaned back with a tight smile and twirled her long
dark ponytail around her fingers. She stared at the blank wall in front of her,
unsurprised when Luke walked through it.

"That was fun!" His grin, so boyish and sweet,
reminded her of their childhood, when they still had hope for a better future.
Luke switched to their made-up secret language. "Oh cheer up, Sis. I'm
sure Sam is fine. She'll contact us when she can. She just needs to rest a
bit."

"I know. I just miss her like crazy. I miss her pale
little face haunting the halls!"

Luke's head perked up like a puppy. "They're coming.
Catch you on the flip side, Sis." He faded back into the wall, leaving
Lucy alone in the stale room.

Mr. Black and his sidekick came back in, looking even meaner
than they had before.

He growled at her with the face of a bulldog. "You and
your brother have been less than helpful, but we have to let you go. However,
know this: if you are hiding anything, it won't end well for either of you. Got
it?"

Lucy stood and gave a mock salute. "Yes, Sir.
Permission to return to my dorm, Sir."

Mr. Black balled his fists and looked about ready to swing.

Lucy knew she should feel fear, but couldn't muster it. Her
world seemed more like a dream than reality. How could she be scared of a
dream?

Before it could get ugly, Sidekick not-too-roughly ushered her
out of the room.

Luke waited in the hall. The tasteful Tudor-style furniture
of the office building had been cleared out shortly after Sam and Drake had
escaped a month ago, replaced by a tacky military-like set-up to house the new
grunts: metal desks and filing cabinets that lacked any class, footlockers for
supplies, and wire cages that held weapons under lock and key. It looked like
an old G.I. Joe board game had thrown up on their campus—grown men turned into
war-playing boys.

There had been guards at the entrance before, but nothing so
overt as now. They'd infiltrated her school like swarms of annoying ants,
crawling all over the once pristine grounds and replacing the guards she'd
trusted—even Old Charlie. He’d been like a grandfather, if her grandfather had
been Chuck Norris and Jackie Chan rolled into one. It sucked.

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."