“I’ll see if I can reach him,” Linus said.
He took off for Forge while Tom took me to the nearest hotel and got us a room. He was convinced I was worn down, and he was serious about nurturing me. I played along, and as I shucked off my shoes and climbed onto my bed, I was honestly grateful to sink into the softness. I was anxious about Rosie, but I couldn’t do anything for her until I could shake Tom, and that was going to be hard.
“If she doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be found,” Tom said.
“What did you think of her?”
Tom took off his boots one after the other. “No, thank you. I’m not getting in the middle of that.”
“No, honestly. I want to know,” I said. “Did you like her?”
“Honestly?” he said. “She seemed pretty dark and confused to me. It’s hard for me to believe you were ever like that.”
I knew it wasn’t his intention, but I felt insulted.
“She was in the vault much longer than I was,” I said. “I think she was mined a lot more.”
“What does that feel like, exactly?” Tom asked.
“The mining itself? I was conscious for it one time, and it was excruciating,” I said. “Normally, you don’t feel it, but afterward, you feel kind of frayed. Unglued. The headaches and déjà vus make you feel like you can’t count on yourself.”
He stood before the window with his arms akimbo. “I should take you home.”
“I’m not leaving Forgetown until we know Rosie’s all right,” I said.
“I’m not sure that girl’s ever going to be all right,” he said. “At least call your parents and tell them about your headaches,” he said.
“They’ll only worry.”
“Because they should,” he said. “I’m worried, too. Something could be really wrong with you, Thea. I can tell you’re exhausted. You need the right supervision.”
“It’s just that I’m pregnant,” I said. “I’m fine.”
“But your eyes are pinched. You’re having a headache right now, aren’t you?” he asked.
“No,” I lied again. It wasn’t a bad headache. Just a little, needling one at my temples.
He sat on the end of my bed. “Call your parents. If you don’t want to, I can.”
“They’ll make me go home to Holdum.”
“Maybe that’s where you belong,” he said.
Maybe nothing. He obviously thought so.
“I don’t know why you don’t get along with my parents,” I said. “I swear you sound just like them.”
Another Braxton-Hicks contraction tingled over my belly, drawing my muscles into a firm, rigid ball. I practiced breathing through the tension, and deeper inside, the baby rolled in response. As the contraction ended, I felt a tug on my toes, and then, wordlessly, Tom began to rub my foot. I wasn’t sure I liked it at first, but he kept rubbing. Bliss traveled up my tired leg. My mind followed each sure stroke of his strong fingers under and around the arch of my foot. Then he tried the other foot. Tingles spread all along my nerves, even to my scalp. Gradually, my headache eased, and my limbs went limp.
All right. He proved his point. I was exhausted.
His blue eyes were grave. “Tomorrow we’re going back home, no matter what.”
“Okay,” I said.
“I could have killed for some of that spaghetti sauce,” he said.
“I know,” I sighed. “Me, too.”
“I’ll go find us some dinner.” He gave my feet a last squeeze and stood up.
It was nearly impossible for me, but as soon as he left our room, I dragged myself out of the bed, put my shoes back on, and left the hotel. I scanned the street for Tom, and then headed down to the dairy barn. My plan was simple. I’d look for Rosie in the tunnel. If she wasn’t there, I’d come out again, no harm done. If I could find her, ten to one I could convince her to come back out. If I couldn’t convince her, I’d call Linus and Tom for back up. An hour at the most I’d be down there. Two hours, tops.
*
Only die-hard ice cream lovers were out that chilly evening, but they were the lingering types who took their cones from the small, brightly lit shop to the dairy barn out back. I ordered a cone of mint chip ice cream and wandered the well-worn path into the old, cavernous building. The smell of animal was almost too powerful for me to take. Rows of cows clanked in their stalls, chewing their cud, while suction cups attached to their udders milked them. Above, a rivulet of white milk trickled through a clear pipe and emptied into a vat in the next room.
Licking my ice cream, I moseyed toward a promising staircase and looked down. A wide, industrial-sized elevator chute dropped to the platform below. It would certainly be large enough to convey sleep shells or bodies up and down, assuming this was the way Berg had emptied the vault.
I glanced over my shoulder to see that the other customers had left, and I checked the corners for cameras. There were none, which fit my theory that someone wanted this area private. I walked down the stairs to the lower floor, and there, right before me, was a large wooden door, just like the one I’d seen from the other side when I was exploring the tunnel. A bit of tissue showed white underneath. Bingo.
I unlatched a heavy bolt, and the big knob turned easily from this direction. I wedged a scrap of wood into the opening so it couldn’t close the entire way, and then, with the light on my cell phone to guide me, I headed into the tunnel, toward the dean’s tower at Forge. The route was familiar by now and it didn’t feel as long. I knew where the floor angle would tilt upward, and where to expect the side door. Once the floor leveled out, I came to the glass room at the bottom of the clock tower pit, and then the broken light fixture on the wall. Finally I reached the door to the elevator landing and the wall of windows that separated me from the vault of dreamers. I instinctively looked for Berg, but he wasn’t there, and neither was Rosie.
I hesitated, remembering my promise to myself. This was far enough. I couldn’t go searching further for Rosie. I might miss her in passing, and I’d certainly get caught, which wouldn’t do her any good. I turned for the tunnel again when the elevator doors opened behind me.
Berg stepped out.
My heart hammered up my throat. “Where’s Rosie?” I asked.
Instead of answering, he lunged forward and grabbed my arm. I screamed. He pinned me against the wall and wrenched my arm up behind me. I cringed, trying to protect my belly, but he caught my other wrist, too, and tied it in a tight binding behind my back. I struggled against him.
“You can’t do this!” I said. “Let me go!”
Wordlessly, he hauled me back and lifted me bodily off the ground. I screamed again, shocked and writhing, but he carried me in a strong, painful grip.