Текст книги "Everfound"

Автор книги: Neal Shusterman

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

CHAPTER 21

The Benson Burner

It was a simple matter for Allie to get into a high security detention center, walking right through every security door as an Afterlight. Unlike most Afterlights, she didn’t have to worry about sinking through living-world floors, because she simply jumped inside of living hosts, piggybacking rides inside of them, hiding behind their consciousnesses, rather than taking them over completely. Such “half-jacking” made it easy for her to get around without being noticed. First she half-jacked a correctional officer on his way to the main cell block, hanging on to the edge of his thoughts as he went about his business. Then she jumped to another, and another and another, until she had a good sense of the detention center’s layout, and had gotten some inside info about the Benson Burner, who was the subject of quite a few conversations.

Apparently the public defender’s office had assigned Seth Fellon a lawyer who came to see him daily, because his family had disowned him.

Allie lingered until the lawyer showed up; a very efficient-looking woman in neutral beige, and wearing an air of confidence. Allie piggybacked inside her mind, studying her. Allie had no intention of probing her thoughts, but being that close to someone’s mind revealed many things. The woman believed the boy was guilty, but she was also dedicated to her profession and would do everything within her power to give him the best possible defense. Well, now that Allie was here, he’d be getting something better than that. He’d be getting exactly what he deserved, one way or another.

Two guards brought Seth Fellon to the room where his lawyer was waiting to see him. The guards sat him down, and then left, closing the door. It was called client-attorney privilege. Although the guards waited outside the door, they couldn’t listen in. In that room Seth and his lawyer had absolute privacy. It was exactly what Allie needed.

Seth Fellon looked the part. He was a punk with scraggly hair, a stony gaze, and an orange prison jumpsuit that seemed like something he was born for. He had no facial rings now; they had been removed when he arrived. His jumpsuit had short sleeves, and Allie could see the tattoos up close. Not a single hint of fire.

Before the lawyer could speak, Allie made her move, pushing her own consciousness forward and tweaking the sleep reflex deep within the woman’s limbic system. The woman instantaneously went to sleep, and Allie took full control of her body, rolling her neck to get a kink out of it.

“Hi, Ms. Gutierrez,” Seth said. “Any luck changing the trial date?”

Allie had no idea. With the woman’s mind asleep, there was no way to look for the information. Seth took her hesitation as a “no.”

“Didn’t think so,” he said. “I don’t suppose you would have a cigarette, would you?”

Although Seth’s eyes were anything but friendly, Allie forced herself to look deeply into them.

“I want you to think about the fire,” Allie said, getting right down to business. “Everything that happened before, during, and right after.”

“What’s the point?”

Then Allie asked the big question. “Are you guilty, Seth?”

He looked away uncomfortably. “You said you wouldn’t ask that.”

“I’m asking.”

Now Seth looked scared. “They found my fingerprints on the gasoline can,” he said. “Why does it matter what I tell you? They’ve all made up their minds anyway.”

“You work in a gas station. That’s why your hands smelled like gasoline, and that’s why your prints were on the gas can—you probably filled it for someone.”

“Yeah,” he said. “But nobody believes that’s true. Not even you.”

“If it’s true,” Allie said, “I’ll believe it. Now close your eyes and think about the fire.”

“No,” he said. “I don’t want to think about it. All I ever do is think about it!”

Allie held eye contact. His gaze was still cold, still mistrustful, and now that she was here with him, she couldn’t tell anymore. What she thought was innocence might have just been shell shock from having been caught.

“Don’t move,” Allie said. Then, making sure the lawyer stayed asleep, she leaped out of her body across the table and right into the mind of the prisoner.

–Cold in here / cigarette / this is useless / I need a cigarette—

She probed his thoughts, poured through his memories like she was rifling through a filing cabinet.

–Hey what the / how the / who the?—

She didn’t try to hide herself, because that didn’t matter. In fact, it was better if he knew exactly what was happening. Finally, she found it. Or rather, she didn’t find it. There was no memory of starting that fire! He had a lot of other crazy stuff going on in that head of his, but none of it had anything to do with arson. He was at the gas station cash register a block away, and once the fire had started, he had actually gone into the building to try to help people. He didn’t start the fire—he was trying to be a hero!

Now that Allie was convinced of his innocence, she left him, leaping back into the lawyer. But something had gone wrong. Her face was down on the table.

Suddenly the guard—who must have glanced through the small glass window in the door—burst into the room, ripping Seth from the chair and throwing him back against the wall.

It was Allie’s mistake, and a stupid one, at that. When she had leaped from the woman’s body, she hadn’t stabilized her in any way. The woman, still asleep, had fallen forward. Now that Allie was back inside of her, she raised her head off the table, but the guard was already restraining Seth.

“What did he do?” the guard asked, then yelled at Seth, “WHAT DID YOU DO?”

“He didn’t do anything,” Allie shouted, and, thinking quickly, she added, “I had a dizzy spell. I put my head down. Are you going to beat my client because his lawyer got dizzy? I’m sure the media would love to hear about that.”

The guard backed off instantly at the mention of media.

“Now please, leave me to consult with my client.”

The guard reluctantly backed off and left, but not before throwing a suspicious glare at Seth.

Once the door was closed, Allie took a deep breath to get her thoughts settled, and to make sure she was still in complete control of her body. When she looked at Seth he was staring straight at her, still backed against the wall.

“Muh . . . Muh . . . Ms. Gutierrez,” he said. “Something just happened. Not the guard, something else.”

Allie took a deep breath. “Just sit down.”

“But Ms. Gutierrez—”

“I’m not Ms. Gutierrez.”

He stared at her with the same lost expression Allie had seen on TV. He came forward and lowered himself into his chair, never taking his eyes off of her.

“Listen to me very carefully,” Allie said, “and don’t do anything that might make the guard come in again, okay?”

Seth nodded, clearly frightened beyond words.

“I saw into your mind. I know you’re innocent . . . and I’m going to get you out of here.”

“But . . . but my fingerprints,” Seth said, “and all that evidence they planted . . .”

“It doesn’t matter, because you’re never going to go to trial. I’m getting you out . . . do you understand?”

When he realized what she was saying, he nodded and bit his lip nervously. “How?”

Allie tried to explain it to him as best she could. “I can be whoever I want to be. I jump into people and I take them over. And no, you’re not crazy, this is really happening.”

“You . . . can read my mind from over there?”

“No, I just guessed what you were thinking.”

“Good guess.”

Allie leaned closer to him. “If this is going to work, you’re going to have to trust me, and do exactly what I say.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Why not?” Clearly he still wasn’t convinced that this was real, and that was a problem, because if he doubted her for an instant it would all fall apart.

“Listen to me,” Allie said as sternly as she could. “If you don’t do what I say, you are going to be tried as an adult—and you won’t last very long in a real prison.”

That made him squirm. “Okay,” he said. “What do you want me to do?”

“Tonight,” Allie told him, “you’re going to hurt yourself. Not enough to cause any real damage, but enough so that they have to take you to the infirmary.”

“There’s security at the infirmary, too,” Seth said.

“That doesn’t matter,” Allie told him. “It’s not the guards I’m worried about, they’re predictable. But if the other prisoners figure out that something’s fishy, there’s no telling what will happen.”

“Okay,” said Seth. “Okay. So . . . how will I know you? I mean, if you can be anyone, how will I know who you’ll be?” It was a good question.

“Code word!” Allie said. “I’ll say a code word, so you’ll know.”

“Great. What is it?”

Allie thought for a moment. It had to be something no one would accidentally say.

“Hightower,” Allie told him, and shivered at the name spoken aloud in the living world.

“High tower,” said Seth. “Got it.”

“Now, I’m going to wake up your lawyer and leave. But you’ve got to act like nothing happened; as if she just walked into the room, sat down, and you’ve been waiting for her to say something. Can you do that?”

“Hey, I’m not an idiot,” said Seth. “I even had an acting class before I quit school.”

“Right,” said Allie. “Okay, then I’ll see you tonight.” Allie prepared to wake up the woman but just before she did, Seth said, “So, who are you?”

Allie was about to say that it didn’t matter, but you know what? It did matter, she mattered. She didn’t need the world to know that she was doing this good deed, but if he knew, that would be enough. “My name is Alexandra Johnson.” Then she added, “I’m not from around here.”

Allie had no idea why this was so important to her. Perhaps it had to do with that sense of helplessness she felt when she was tied to the front of the train. Wrongful imprisonment struck a very deep chord in her, especially when she knew she could do something about it. Somehow this punk represented every one of Mary’s kids—every kid denied the right to move on. Allie knew it was crazy, but freeing him would be satisfying in a way that she could not explain.

Deep down, she knew there was more to it—something tickling the back of her mind that she couldn’t get at. Right now she didn’t really want to try. It was time to act, not to think.

Now she was glad that she had been humbled by the coyote, learning that she was not all-powerful, that she could not do everything. Because this skill was enough to make anyone arrogant beyond belief. To know the truth of every situation, in anyone’s mind, to be able to dispense justice without any oversight. To be judge and jury and know absolutely that your assessment is correct. No human being had the right to have such power, and yet every skinjacker did. She had to hold on to some of that humility she experienced so that she would use this power wisely.

Allie didn’t leave the detention center that day. She waited on a deadspot, and there were no shortage of them in such a place. She watched the movement of the guards. She piggybacked on several of them just to learn the procedures of opening and closing security gates and doors.

Seth was in solitary confinement; all high-profile prisoners were. But the only way out was through the main cell block. Moving a prisoner anywhere in the detention center always required two guards. Allie could skinjack one guard, put him to sleep, then leap to the other guard and run with Seth—but that wouldn’t go over well in the middle of a crowded cell block—especially one where the inmates wanted to see the Benson Burner lynched just as badly as the public. Allie knew the only way to get Seth out was to get him out of the cell block first in some legitimate way. . . .

* * *

That night Seth Fellon broke his nose. His wails echoed in the halls of solitary. “I deed a doctor!” he yelled. “My doze! I deed a doctor!”

One of the guards on duty reluctantly came to check it out, peering through the little window into the small concrete cell. He cursed about the bloody mess that was all over the room, then went to get a second guard so they could escort him to the infirmary.

“You think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?” one of the guards said, as they pulled him out of his cell. “Mess yourself up, then claim that we did it to you.” Then he pointed to the corner of the hallway. “See that? That’s a security camera, moron. It’ll prove you did it all on your lonesome.”

Once they arrived at the infirmary, the doctor on call took his time in getting there. Both guards remained while the nurse took care of him, doing her best to stop the bleeding and disinfecting the gash across the bridge of his nose.

“How did you do this?” she asked.

“Fell and hit my face on the toilet.”

“Ouch,” said the one of the guards, then laughed, so that no one could accuse him of being sympathetic to an arsonist.

Then, when the doctor finally arrived, the nurse turned to him and said, “It’s about time you came down off your high tower.”

“Don’t start,” said the doctor as if it were a perfectly natural thing to say.

Seth met the nurse’s gaze, recognizing something in her eyes.

* * *

As far as Allie was concerned, this was all about timing. She knew there were five security doors between them and the main entrance. She knew where she needed a magnetic swipe, where she needed a code, and where she’d have to be buzzed in by a guard. She was only a single skinjacker, but if she had her timing down, she could do this.

“We’ll take X-rays in the morning,” the doctor said, after he had sewn up the gash, “once the swelling goes down a bit.” Then he pulled off his surgical gloves, tossed them in the trash, and was gone.

“All right,” said one of guards. “Back to your cell.”

But Allie handed him a clipboard. “Not until you fill out the accident report.” Then she excused herself to the restroom where she promptly left the nurse’s body asleep in a stall.

In the examining room, Seth watched as the guard filled out the report. “See,” the guard said. “Doing that to yourself was a waste of time.”

“And,” added the other guard, “it’ll hurt even worse in the morning.”

Seth kept waiting for Allie to return, but she didn’t. Then as the two guards led him out of the infirmary, the one on his left said, “You’d better not try anything funny; this place goes into computer lockdown the second you try to escape. With technology like that, who needs snipers in high towers?” Then he said, “Come on. The warden is waiting.”

The other guard looked at him strangely. “We’re taking him to the warden?”

“You know our orders. If anything unusual happens to the Benson Burner, we’re supposed to take him straight to the warden.”

The other guard wasn’t convinced. “That’s not protocol.” He pulled out his walkie-talkie. “Let me call it in.”

Allie leaped out of the left-hand guard, through Seth, and into the right-hand guard just before he pressed the button to talk—but she had leaped so suddenly that the first guard—who she had put to sleep while skinjacking him—was jarred awake. He didn’t even stumble.

“Hey,” he said reaching for his weapon, knowing something strange had happened. “How’d we get in the hallway? What’s going on?”

Damn! Allie leaped back again into the left guard—she never even had the chance to put the right guard to sleep, and he knew something had been possessing his body.

“Something’s wrong here!” he said.

There was no time to think now, so Allie tried something she had never done before; she leaped from one guard to the other and back again, over and over, back and forth, staying just long enough to keep them from doing anything she didn’t want them to. Faster and faster she bounced, until she was seeing double—two separate images from two pairs of eyes. She kept increasing the speed of her jumps, images flickering like a projector getting up to speed, until she couldn’t tell whose body she was in anymore. Then she realized that she was skinjacking them both at once! Allie settled into the rhythm of this alternating current. It was exhausting, but she had no choice.

“What’s going on?” Seth asked.

“Move it,” she said and found that the words came out of both men’s mouths simultaneously. Striding in unison, they came to the first set of security doors, and punched in the code, bringing them one step closer to escape.

They needed to be buzzed through the next door, and the guard on duty asked,

“Where are you taking this prisoner?”

Both guards said in unison, “Prisoner transfer.”

The guard on duty chuckled at the apparent coincidence, and buzzed them through. Allie realized that both men were sweating profusely, but she couldn’t do anything about that. They were also fully awake, and knew everything that was happening to them—and although they struggled to get control of their own bodies, they had no experience with such a thing. As long as she kept hammering them down, she would stay in control.

They made it through one more door without incident. Ahead was one more guarded door, then they’d be in the prisoner admissions area—kind of like a criminal’s lobby. After that they would be home free.

But before they got through that last security door, from an adjacent corridor came a small, bald man with an unforgiving face.

“What are you doing? Why isn’t this prisoner in his cell?”

Allie’s hearts sank. This was the warden. She couldn’t bluff her way past him, because any transfer would have already gone through his office, and he would know about it. And so she did the only thing she could. She began leaping into him as well, turning her two-step dance into a waltz.

One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three . . .

The warden tried to speak, but it came out as a stutter. “Uh . . . Uh . . . Uh . . .”

Left-right-forward, left-right-forward . . .

And in a moment, Allie was seeing through three sets of eyes instead of just two. It was the hardest thing she had ever done. It was like juggling, body-juggling, and if she bobbled any of them, it was all over. But perhaps it was worth the risk, because the guard at the admissions door wasn’t going to question the warden.

“Good evening, sir,” said the guard as they approached the door.

All three skinjacked men nodded, and the guard buzzed them out to the deserted admissions area, watching with only mild interest as they strode out the front door into the chilly night.

“I’m gonna get shot now! I know it!” Seth said in a panic.

Allie had all but forgotten Seth, the single member of the foursome she wasn’t skinjacking. “Quiet!” she said in a three-voice chorus. It took even more energy to speak with three sets of vocal chords under her command, so conversations had to be kept to a minimum. She reached into her pocket, all three men mimicking the same exact motion. While the guards came up empty-handed, the warden had his car keys in his hand. He hit a button and the Lexus in the warden’s parking space unlocked.

Seth, who took the passenger seat, mumbled to himself all the things that could go wrong as they drove out into the city, and Allie simply could not deal with the distraction. “Stop! Talking!” her three voices told him.

She hadn’t lived long enough to get her license, and on top of it, it was near impossible to drive when she had three points of view, but with the aid of the warden’s muscle memory she managed to keep the Lexus on the road, and mostly in her own lane. Soon she was able to narrow her focus, and make the warden’s eyes her primary ones, although the two guards in the backseat perfectly copied the motions of the warden’s hands on the wheel.

She drove down a frontage road, afraid to get onto the freeway. Then, when they were about ten miles out of the city, she turned onto a residential street, dead quiet at this time of night. She pulled over to the curb, turned to Seth, and struggled to say, “Get! Out! Good! Luck!”

Seth hesitated for a moment. “Right here? But—”

“Go!”

He didn’t need another invitation. “Well . . . Thanks. I mean . . .” And since there was nothing he could say that would be adequate, he gave her a genuine smile, then opened the door and ran, disappearing into the dark neighborhood.

Once he was gone, Allie turned off the headlights, turned off the engine, and continued to jump. Guard to guard to warden; guard to guard to warden.

There would be a manhunt. Seth would be hunted down like an animal—and with those bandages on his face he’d be easy to spot . . . but Allie suspected he was streetwise, and much smarter than people gave him credit for. With any luck, they’d never catch him. And if they did, she could free him again.

Why did I do this?

Why do I care?

She knew the question was important, and her answer crucial—but she couldn’t think about that right now.

One-two-three, one-two-three, guard-guard-warden. The three men were drenched in sweat but she kept them under her firm control for almost an hour, making sure she gave Seth a substantial lead. Then, when she could juggle no more, she let all three men go.

One guard began to scream, the other began to pray, and the warden pounded the steering wheel in frustration. Allie knew these three men would face the full wrath of the judicial system, and their claim of being spiritually possessed would be laughed at. Perhaps, Allie thought, I could skinjack the judge at their trials, and get them off. And it occurred to her that every event changed in the living world through skinjacking required even more skinjacking to offset the consequences.

Allie didn’t linger to watch what the men made of their experience. Now that she was back in Everlost, she felt as if her soul had been shredded. She was so weak, she could barely lift her feet and found that she was beginning to sink deeper and deeper into the living world because she couldn’t move fast enough to keep it from taking her down. She knew she would sink over her head if she didn’t do something soon, so she made her way to the nearest home, practically crawling, and skinjacked the first person she came across, just to escape from sinking. A woman, home alone, watching the home shopping network. Once Allie was inside, and had taken control, she instantly knew that the woman was drunk. Very drunk.

Between the fleshie’s blood alcohol level, and all the turmoil in her own soul, it was more than Allie could stand. She stumbled into the bathroom and retched into the toilet. She could have found a neighbor to skinjack, but she didn’t. She stayed there retching until there was nothing left to purge. . . .

. . . Because now that it was over, now that she had done the deed, she knew why she had to free Seth.

Seth had no memory of the fire—but it was more than that. He also had no memory of leaving the gas station and going into the school. Somehow all the evidence pointed to him, and there were witnesses who swore they saw him start the blaze.

How was that possible?

How could a person have no memory of something their own body did?

The answer had been in front of Allie all along, but she had refused to see it until now.

Seth Fellon had been skinjacked.

There could be no denying it. So Allie heaved over the porcelain bowl, hoping she could flush away the truth.