35.
“Are you okay?” Mark asked, looking at me. I realized a choking noise was coming from my throat.
I nodded, even though I still couldn’t get a proper breath. If I couldn’t enter Seaside and find asylum, well, I couldn’t even think about what might happen to me.
Jag said something that didn’t penetrate my ears. I wanted to spew everything out so I wouldn’t get tangled up in the panic, but I couldn’t order the words properly.
When I looked up, Jag and I stood alone on the dock. Jake and Mark busied themselves on the barge. Not knowing if Jag could hear my words in his mind or just feelings through, well, however he feels stuff. Maybe through his heart? Anyway, I tried to tell him the reason for my fear.
“Don’t worry, babe,” he whispered. “I know Gavin. We’ll get you in.”
“What if you can’t?” I felt like I was six years old and needed reassurance that no matter what, everything would work out, that I’d be safe.
Jag gently pulled me toward the boat, his doubt voiced in his silence.
“Let me talk to them alone,” Jag said, pointing to the steps that led below deck before moving to stand next to Mark. “You should hide out down there anyway, just as a precaution.”
Precaution. Whatever. But as Jake untied the boat from the dock and joined Jag and Mark on the bow of the barge, I slipped down the stairs into the cargo hold. It was damp and smelly. Tech took up every nook and cranny. These rangers weren’t kidding around. At least the tech hadn’t been activated yet. I would’ve been writhing on the floor, blind.
The rolling motion of the ship calmed me. A few minutes later Jag stumbled down the steps, his face tinged with green.
“What’s wrong?”
“Sick,” he choked out. “The water . . . moves.”
I tried not to laugh (yeah, that didn’t work) as Jag bent over and threw up in a bucket. “Haven’t you ever been on a boat?”
“No.”
“Well, it’s just like hoverboarding, right? You move on the air like this.”
“Totally different,” he said, “and you’re not helping.”
“Sorry.” I patted him on the back as he lost his lunch again.
“You okay?” Mark shouted down. “We have seasick patches up here.”
“Coming.” Jag groaned and swayed as he turned, still clutching the bucket. “Mark thinks we can get you in to see Gavin.” He wiped his mouth. “Let me worry about it, okay?” Then he disappeared up the stairs.
Right, let him worry about it. How was I supposed to stop stewing over the possibility of remaining a fugitive? Especially with my dad lurking in the city, waiting to swoop in and arrest me the first chance he got. At least I couldn’t feel him anywhere close by.
After we docked, I tried to be invisible as I followed the brothers down a busy main street lined with brick, metal, and stone buildings. They were old, built without tech. I gaped at the ancient structures, drawn to how each one possessed a unique beauty.
Jag kept a firm grip on my hand as we moved through a rotating glass door in the tallest building on the island. We crossed the lobby to a row of ascenders. Jake and Mark stepped into a circle and disappeared in an upward flash of light.
Great. I hate ascenders almost as much as heights. They give you a none-too-gentle push upward. Usually there’s enough time for your molecules to evaporate before you splat on the ceiling. Usually.
The lobby bubbled with a fountain and idle chatter. I placed my hand inside the circle they’d been in. The ascender vibrated with power, sending energy into my bones and making my tag feel white-hot under my skin.
Jag pulled me into the circle and said, “Lounge, sixteenth floor.”
We arrived in a waiting room with soft chairs. A long couch separated a desk and a set of doors. Ancient pictures done with paint, not computer-generated images, hung on the walls. Jag set his backpack on the couch. “Let me talk to her first.” He turned to Mark and Jake. “Lead the way, boys.”
He left me sitting there next to his backpack. Waiting—which is so not my thing. I’d never felt so lost and alone in my life.
After about an hour that felt like forever, I made myself something to eat with the silver cube. Drained from the effort of simply breathing one more time, surviving one more minute, I lay down on the couch.
I woke up to two very deep, male voices. And someone touching my stickered and gloved hand. The brothers had returned.
“Sweet hair.” Mark raked his eyes over my body, and I didn’t like his appraising expression.
“Where’s Jag?” I asked, sounding braver than I felt.
“He’s still waiting for Gavin,” Jake answered.
“Can I wait with him?”
Both brothers shrugged before leading me down the hall to another room with a blue couch and soft chairs. Jag was pacing when I entered, his gaze on the floor. He muttered under his breath and didn’t notice that we’d come in.
“Hey, man,” Mark said, “she wants to wait with you.”
Jag’s eyes flew to me, but his expression didn’t change. “Yeah, okay. She can wait here.” He sounded like he couldn’t care less.
I waited until the brothers left before touching his arm. “Jag? What’s going on?”
The corners of his mouth barely lifted before settling back into their original position. “Nothing. Nothing,” he said, more to himself than to me.
“Sure, okay, because you only pace when you’re nervous.”
“I don’t get nervous. This is anxious.”
I worked hard to keep from rolling my eyes. “Okay, then. I’ve never seen you so anxious.” And it made me both anxious and nervous.
“Whatever, I’m fine,” he snapped.
“Jag? Gavin is ready to see you.”
My thoughts of punching Jag disappeared with those intoxicating words.
The man who spoke them swept one hand toward the hall behind him, pausing when his gaze fell on me. “Oh, hello. I’m sorry, we have no open appointments today.”
I wondered what my name would sound like on his tongue. His voice was developed, carefully controlled, smooth and rolling like the sand dunes I’d spent the last two weeks hating. All the color was washed out of his hair and he’d spiked it the same as mine.
“She’s with me,” Jag said. “Hurry up, Vi.”
I remained rooted in place, still staring at the Thinker. His eyes opened wider when Jag said my name. Surprise—maybe disbelief?—colored his cheeks.
“Come on.” Jag grabbed my arm and pulled me past the type of person who could turn me in.