Stuck Read online

  “Cool. I’ll hit the hot entrée line. You grab the drinks?” Alex suggested.

  “Sure,” Deion acquiesced.

  But in all honesty, food was the last thing on Deion’s mind.

  Today marked one week since their run-in with the mysterious and terrifying creature on the old drama set, and still they had not figured out what to do about it.

  Reaching the communal dining hall, they split off and navigated through the slow-moving crowds to their respective stations. Deion grabbed four cups, filling two with water and two with the reconstituted powdered beverage that passed for “orange juice” this many years since losing contact with any part of the world with the climate to grow such a fruit. He wondered how long the concentrate supply would last. Probably longer than he would, if there were more of those monsters prowling the compound, he ceded.

  He found a small empty table within sight of the entrée line and set his tray down, making eye contact with Alex to confirm. Alex gave him a thumbs up to signal he’d be over shortly with the food.

  Deion busied himself gazing around the crowded room, never lingering too long on any one person, but taking them all in as they absentmindedly filled and emptied their trays, speculating quietly about tonight’s drama airing or comparing the day’s shifts, but generally keeping to themselves. They all seemed comfortable, content. Just as he and Alex had been a few short days ago.

  Alex slid a tray of steaming pancakes and sausage patties onto the table, interrupting Deion’s ruminations.

  “Thanks, man,” Deion said.

  “You got it,” Alex replied. He sat down and wasted no time rolling a sausage and pancake together into a neat little bundle before tearing into it with his teeth.

  Deion couldn’t help but think of that monster doing the same to whoever was unfortunate enough to land in its path next. He cut at a piece of his pancake and sighed.

  “What is it?” Alex solicited, still chewing.

  “I just don’t know what we’re doing here,” he responded, his voice heavy with ambivalence.

  “We’re having breakfast,” Alex asserted, deliberately avoiding a conversation he didn’t want to have yet again.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I do,” Alex admitted. “But, as we’ve decided every time we’ve talked about this for the past seven days, there’s nothing we can do. It’s not our job to do anything.”

  Deion nodded over his shoulder. “Look at them. They have no idea. They’re sitting ducks.”

  Alex shrugged. “I’m sure if they were in any real danger, the powers that be would take care of it, just like they have always taken care of everything.”

  Deion knew from a practical standpoint that his friend was right – they’d both been scared kids when Paragon’s walls went up, and there had always been some sort of direction provided for them, which they’d dutifully and gratefully followed. It would be easy for he and Alex to continue to shirk responsibility; they’d been doing it their entire lives, had never even really had a choice about it. But Deion also just couldn’t help but feel like he at least owed his fellow citizens some sort of warning.

  Alex, as if reading his mind, added, “And if they wanted people to know, we would know. There must be a reason they’re keeping it quiet. Maybe the…” he glanced around, “…situation has already been addressed. Anyway, if we’d just stayed where we belonged, we wouldn’t know, either.” He tore off another bite and resumed chewing, then washed it down with a gulp of juice. “Let’s just continue on as if we had, no?”

  Deion and Alex finished their breakfast in silence, as there wasn’t much left to say. The cafeteria started to empty around them as people headed to their assignments.

  Finishing up the last of his water, Deion tilted his head back; in the corner of his vision flashed a brilliant gold sheen, lit up by the sun. He swiveled in his seat to get a better look, and recognizing the long, thick, shiny locks that had caught his eye, smiled knowingly at his best friend.

  “Don’t look now, but I think you’re going to want to see who’s just joined us for breakfast.”

  Alex peered slyly around Deion’s head, intrigued, and his eyes lit up when he saw who his friend was referring to.

  “No way! That’s the blonde from the sorority show!” He immediately shrunk back behind Deion for cover, running his hands through his hair and wiping at his mouth with a napkin. “How do I look?”

  “Fine?” Deion laughed. “You’re not going over there, are you?”

  “Oh yes I am!” Alex rejoined, pushing his chair back with gusto.

  Deion watched in bemused astonishment as his friend marched up to the golden goddess, smiled cheerily, and invited her to sit with them. Deion saw with relief that she at least was gracious enough to look flattered.

  Deion watched as they spoke. She seemed a little dazed, but not in a high-on-mind-altering-substances way, more like a fish-out-of-water uneasiness. Peering around the large room, she seemed as if she were looking for someone she knew but coming up short. Odd, considering that Deion didn’t know anyone who’d even moved to a different efficiency unit in the nine years since the gates had closed – by now all the faces were familiar, even if he didn’t actually know the people to which they belonged.

  Alex returned a moment later guiding her by the elbow to the empty chair perpendicular to their seats.

  “Deion, this is Lizzie,” he beamed triumphantly.

  “Nice to meet you.” Deion stuck out his hand.

  She gently placed her tray – which held only a smoothie that looked about as lonesome as she did – on the table and took his hand in greeting as she sat. “You too,” she said, friendly enough but still seeming a little overwhelmed.

  “So Lizzie, how is it we haven’t seen you here before?” Alex opened genially.

  Lizzie took a sip of her drink before answering, her eyes glancing away as she spoke. “Haven’t you?”

  “Naw, I definitely would have remembered.”

  Deion chuckled under his breath, subtly raising an eyebrow as if to remind him, “Play it cool, man.”

  Alex seemed to catch his drift. He cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject. “So, uh, what shift have you got today? I’m on set design with the drama and Deion here’s doing inventory at the stock house.”

  Lizzie took another sip of her smoothie. “You know, I haven’t checked yet.”

  “Living on the edge,” Alex joked.

  Lizzie laughed. “I guess you could say that.”

  They made small talk for a few minutes as she polished off her breakfast, Alex hanging on her every word, as few as they may have been. By the end of the conversation, Deion could tell he was even more smitten than he had been at the start, and that was saying something.

  The three of them got up together to clear their trays, preparing to part ways at the door.

  “I guess I’d better go check my assignment,” Lizzie said. “It was really nice to meet you both.” She did seem genuinely grateful, Deion thought. He wondered again what her story might be.

  “You too,” Deion replied, turning to head to the supply warehouse.

  She waved and began walking in the opposite direction.

  “Don’t be a stranger!” Alex called after her, a little too eagerly.

  And then, to Deion’s surprise, she stopped and whirled around on the spot. “Where did you say you guys live again?”

  Alex’s face lit up. “Right over there.” He pointed toward their building down the street. “Want to join us for the drama tonight?”

  “That’d be great.” She flashed her perfect white teeth, and Deion could practically feel the giddy excitement radiating off his friend.

  “Come on,” he murmured, nudging him in the ribs. “You’re drooling.”

  24. FAITH

  Well, the bloodthirsty mutant cat was out of the bag now, but Alessa still couldn’t quite get a read on Isaac’s reaction.

  The sun was just beginning to peek through the ca
nopy of the trees, and she trailed a few feet back from him on the path, struggling through the dim light to interpret the hunch of his shoulders, the drag of his feet, his occasional heavy breath.

  Was he angry? Defeated? Shocked? She felt like something needed to be said… but, what?

  The crunch of twigs and roots under her boots changed to the soft shuffling of decaying woodchips as they joined the trail approaching the picnic area. Time was running out – they’d have no privacy to talk in front of the squad. Surely Isaac wasn’t considering telling all of them?

  As if reading her mind, Isaac stopped abruptly and turned around to face her, his expression still frustratingly blank.

  They looked at each other in silence, Alessa still too nervous to speak, Isaac too… something. She held her breath, waiting.

  Finally, a hoarse whisper ushered from his throat.

  “This is… actually happening, right?”

  Alessa exhaled, stifling an inappropriate laugh – that was not the reaction she was expecting.

  “I’m serious,” Isaac reiterated.

  Alessa stepped forward and took his hands in hers. “Yes,” she reassured him. “This is real. It’s really Joe.”

  She guessed she shouldn’t have been surprised – after all, she’d been trying to process these facts for months and still hadn’t quite absorbed everything. But she’d spent so long tormenting herself about keeping it from Isaac, it just hadn’t occurred to her that he might be just as disconcerted about it as she was. At first, anyway – the anger might still be coming.

  The crystalline cobalt of his eyes searched hers. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Well, his eyes, for one.” She brushed her fingertips along Isaac’s temple, reminding him of the feature he shared with his brother. “And the feelings that I get from him, it’s different than the others… I can’t quite explain it. It’s like he’s not all gone. I’ve even seen his memories, things no one else could know.”

  “But how? Why is he different?”

  Alessa raised and then dropped her shoulders, as devoid of answers as he was. “I’ve been thinking about that, too. Maybe it’s his side effect from the stitch? Mine is the empathy, maybe his is… loyalty? Love? There aren’t too many other people in Paragon who still have someone they care about, from before. Maybe that got amplified somehow by the procedure.”

  Isaac seemed to weigh this possibility and then nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”

  “I really don’t know,” Alessa admitted. “None of this makes any sense, not really.”

  “No,” Isaac agreed. He took a deep breath, then shook his head. “It just can’t be. Joe. Here. All this time…”

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Alessa blurted, relieved to finally say it, even if she wasn’t sure Isaac was ready to hear it.

  He gave her a hurt look, and waited a beat, clearly turning over in his mind just how upset he should be.

  Finally, he asked, “How long have you known?” Thankfully, he seemed more curious than resentful. Alessa guessed he was feeling too overwhelmed to muster the energy to be angry.

  “Just since the train,” she replied. “He showed himself to me when it was pulling into the station, and you were all asleep. I couldn’t believe it, either. I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure. I didn’t want to give you false hope…” She fumbled for the words; she wasn’t doing a very good job explaining herself, she knew.

  Isaac glanced away and she could see the tears welling in his eyes.

  She wrapped her arms tightly around him. “I’m so sorry, Isaac. I should have told you sooner. I didn’t know what it would mean if it was real… I convinced myself I needed more proof,” she confessed. “But, when I saw you about to kill him… it suddenly all became very clear. I guess I’ve known all along, and I just didn’t want to believe it.”

  “I don’t want to believe it,” Isaac croaked. Finally, a quiet sob released from his chest. “How can this have happened to him? What are we supposed to do?”

  Alessa wished she had the answers – but if she had, she wouldn’t have kept this to herself for so long. She just held him while he cried. She didn’t know what else to do.

  After a moment, Isaac looked up, the newly risen sun glistening in the watery azure of his eyes. He seemed resolved.

  “We can’t tell the others. They won’t understand.”

  “I agree,” Alessa nodded.

  “We need to go back to him.”

  Sooner rather than later, Alessa thought. She was sure the only reason that flimsy shed was holding him was because he was allowing it. But Joe never had much patience to begin with, and she couldn’t imagine that had improved in his current state.

  “We’ll find some excuse to tell Carlos we need to split up, and we’ll go back today,” she suggested. She hesitated for a moment, concerned about rattling him further, but in the end decided she was sick of keeping secrets. “Isaac. Before you knocked him out, I think he was trying to tell me something… About Janie. And maybe also… Jo.”

  Isaac nodded. She could see a spark return to his eyes, but she didn’t think either of them had the nerve to say what they were thinking – they were both too afraid to jinx it.

  The sound of brush snapping alerted them that someone – or something – was approaching. They both stood at attention, surveilling the path up ahead.

  The barrel of a gun rounded the bend first, followed by Carlos’s robust shoulders. He lowered the gun once he saw them. “There you two are,” he sighed. “We found an empty tent and signs of a struggle in the woods – we were sure you were dead.”

  “Almost,” Isaac smiled, “but not quite.”

  Carlos turned and motioned for them to follow him back to camp. “Come on, the crew will be glad to see you.”

  The squad erupted into cheers when they stepped into the clearing. Alicia ran up to Alessa and gave her a hug. “What happened? We were worried sick!”

  “Sorry,” Alessa apologized. “We were attacked. We managed to fight it off, but we got turned around in the dark. Just found the path again as the sun rose.”

  Alicia anxiously surveyed Alessa and Isaac’s bodies, looking for injuries no doubt. “You’re not hurt?”

  “Miracle,” Isaac conceded, “but no.”

  “Lucky,” Alicia whistled.

  “Rookie luck,” Carlos goaded with a smile. He nodded towards the campfire. “Hungry?”

  They joined the rest of the team around the fire for a light breakfast, and they all discussed what to do next. Alessa and Isaac got another lucky break when Carlos immediately gave them the excuse they needed to break off from the group.

  “So,” he started, “I know there was at least one other mission that should have been out during the blast. What do you say we try to find them?”

  Excited chatter ran around the circle at this pronouncement, morale jumping palpably. Everyone needed something positive to focus on after yesterday’s confirmation that Raptor – and everyone inside it – was no more.

  “Let’s split up,” Isaac suggested. “We’ll cover more ground that way.”

  “Teams of two,” Carlos instructed. “That will allow us to hit every direction. We’ll meet up back here at dusk.”

  It was only a couple hours before Isaac and Alessa managed to make it back to the shed, but the journey felt like days. With every step, Alessa’s chest tightened as she wondered what they would find. Apprehension burned in her throat.

  Reaching it, they were relieved to see that the lock was in place, and already Alessa could feel waves of strong emotion pricking her senses – emotion that wasn’t hers.

  “He’s here,” she breathed.

  Isaac exhaled and steadied himself. “Are we sure we can trust him?”

  Alessa was being bombarded with the signature rage and viciousness that all the Stuck seemed to carry with them. But, as usual, it was tempered in a way that was different from the others. She shrugged. “He’s been following us for m
onths,” she reasoned. “He hasn’t killed us yet.”

  Isaac nodded, but readied his gun anyway and pointed it towards the door. “I’ll cover you.”

  Alessa took a deep breath and unfastened the lock. She creaked the door open slowly, and called into the darkness. “Joe?”

  As the light crept across the floor, she heard him scamper away from it and could sense something large huddled beyond the sunbeams’ reach. An inhuman growl issued from the far corner.

  Alessa steeled herself, allowing the fury and violence to wash over her. She waited for the more subtle feelings to rise up over that undercurrent.

  There it was. Concern. Apprehension. Fear.

  “We know it’s you, Joe,” Alessa soothed, stepping one foot into the shed. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

  Isaac cocked the gun behind her, and Joe snarled in response.

  “Isaac,” Alessa rebuked. “Put it down.”

  Isaac hesitated, but lowered his weapon.

  There was a scraping – claws against metal – from the back of the shed. Alessa was hit with a swell of shame as Joe hesitantly poked his head into the light, shielding his bulging, mammoth-pupilled eyes from the sun’s rays. He quickly recoiled back into the dark.

  Isaac jumped at the sudden movement, but Alessa held her ground. She needed to see this through.

  “Joe,” she urged, her voice gentle. “Is there something you wanted to show us?”

  25. OUTRAGE

  Lizzie entered the warehouse and headed toward the viewing screen that was set up to the side in a makeshift common area, scanning the rows of seats for Alex and his friend. She didn’t really know what she was doing here. But then again, that was the story of her life at the moment – nothing made sense anymore. These two guys at least had kind eyes; she felt like she could trust them.

  She spotted them, but before she could approach, Alex turned around in his seat and saw her, his shapely dark eyes brightening with his wide smile. He motioned with a rippling forearm for her to come over, and Lizzie’s heart fluttered in a way it hadn’t in, well, she couldn’t even remember the last time.

  They’d saved a seat for her in their row, his equally good-looking darker-skinned friend with the close-cropped hair smiling genially in greeting. What was his name again?