The Extraction List (12 page)

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Authors: Renee N. Meland

BOOK: The Extraction List
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The windows of the school were tarnished with dirt. It already looked like mold was trying to spread over them, sealing out the light forever. I squinted to see past them and into the school, but I was only met with blackness. I pictured Olivia’s face staring at me through the grime and misty glass. I shook the image from my mind as quickly as it came. I couldn’t bare thinking that my best friend might have lived in a place like this, surrounded by strangers and brick, like a ghost who couldn’t seem to make its way home.

The silence scared me more than the school itself. From how Mom described the schools, I expected laughter. I expected jungle gyms, soccer fields, even children dancing around maypoles or something equally as sugary sweet. But there was nothing. All I heard was the chirping of the birds and the leaves blowing by in the wind.

Cain shouted at us as he approached. For Cain to risk shouting, he must have been sure of one thing: “There’s no one here.”

Mom sucked in her breath. “What do you mean there’s no one here? It CAN’T be deserted, it just can’t. That’s impossible. There’s supposed to be children running around all over the place.”

Jordyn followed behind Cain, hands on her hips. “Well, there aren’t. It’s empty.”

Mom’s knees buckled and Bo had to steady her. “Where are they?” I could barely hear the words emerge from Mom’s mouth, softly and with great effort. But then she righted herself and started marching toward the school. Jordyn had to run to keep up.

“Where are you going, Claire?” Bo shouted, taking off in a sprint toward her. Cain and I followed.

“I’m going to find out where they are. There has to be something in there that will tell us. This isn’t right.” Jordyn and Mom quickened their pace and were gaining distance on us. I didn’t know my mom was so fast.

We reached the door within seconds. It seemed to be stuck, but between Jordyn and Mom were able to yank it open, practically falling backward in the process. I expected a cloud of dust to explode from inside, but none did. Cain must have noticed too. “They must have left fairly recently.”

Jordyn ran her finger across the top of a nearby table, and a thin layer of gray dust came up with it. “Not THAT recently.”

The entryway was decorated like an old Victorian living room. Red velvet couches lined a brick fireplace. Huge vases sat in each corner, with long, stiff, brown twigs sticking out of each top. Each vase had its own remake of a famous painting circling it: the Mona Lisa, the dripping clocks, the Sistine Chapel…and the screaming man with the white face. They didn’t seem too appropriate for what was supposed to be a place for children. I wondered what comfort they thought the children would take in the red velvet couches and fancy decorations. When the nightmares came, I doubted they would want to wrap their arms around a vase.

A painting of President Gray hung on the wall, staring down at us, almost willing us to turn back the way we came. I glared at him, hoping in some cosmic way he could feel it wherever he was at that moment. I wished it hung lower so I could have spit on it too.

There was a door labeled “East Wing” in the corner of the entryway. There was a thin layer of grime on the window, but not enough to block my view entirely. I gently pushed open the door to reveal a huge hallway. There were about eight doors on each side of it, and then it turned a corner. Dead bolts sealed each door, but all of them had a window and I went through door by door, peeking through each one.

The first one I looked in was a classroom—but not the classroom that Mom described when she had talked about the boarding schools…where Olivia was supposed to be. Desks were scrunched together, so crowded that I doubted the kids had been able to walk between them without turning sideways. The classrooms Mom described had bright colors, flowers, and at least windows to the outside. This room had none of the three. The walls had no posters to speak of. The only plant that I could see had crunchy leaves that, if I had touched them, would have crumbled into pieces.

The next few rooms were classrooms, practically identical to the first. Finally I came upon a kitchen. It reminded me of a mess hall in a prison. Rows of tables sat facing the lunch line, every table made of metal. Again, no windows…just steel upon metal upon cement. Even the gate from the eating area to the kitchen was made out of chain-link fencing. I shuddered when I noticed something shiny hanging from the middle of the gate.

It was a combination lock.

After the kitchen area, I peeked into a room that was different from all the others. It was still a classroom, but I noticed that in farthest, darkest corner there were blankets and pillows. Next to that was a stack of canned food, oatmeal, and other food that I couldn’t make out the label on. Also, unlike the other rooms, the bolt lock on this particular door had been busted open. I was about to tiptoe inside when I felt arms wrap around me and someone pressed their hand over my mouth.

The man pulled me inside the room, dragging me backward. When the door shut behind us, he finally whirled me around so I could see his face. Gray sandpaper covered his chin, and the gray hair on the top of his head pointed in all different directions, swirling in spiral patterns. His red flannel shirt looked like it hadn’t been washed in days. Beer and fish seeped out of his pours. His cheeks sunk inward and the bones looked sharp. “Who are you? What’re you doing here? Are there more of you?” He shook me with each sentence and didn’t seem to mind that my head banged against the wall each time. Beads of sweat flung from his brow and landed in my eyes.

I was about to answer him and say anything to get him off of me when Mom and the others burst through the door. She ran over to me and yanked me from his ever-tightening grasp, kicking him even after I was free. “Get away from her! Who are you?” Mom clung to me, and I squeezed her back, like maybe if we squeezed each other hard enough we could both disappear from that place. Cain stepped in front of her and motioned to both of us to move farther behind him.

“Answer her,” Cain said.

The man straightened himself up, backing away from us as fast as he could. “Harlow. Imma security guard at this place.”

Cain stepped toward him.

“I’m sorry about the girl. Just that I’ve been the only one here for the last couple months. Wasn’t expectin’ anybody.”

“Well then, you can answer some questions for us.” Cain pushed Harlow down into one of the children’s desks. It squealed under his weight, like a pig protesting on his way to the slaughterhouse. “Where are the children?”

Harlow scoffed. “Hell if I know, but they haven’t been here for a couple months now. I came in one morning to start my shift and everybody was gone.”

Mom shook her head. I felt her chin scrape the top of my head with each shake.

“Why didn’t you just go home?” I asked.

“Hey, times’ tough. This place is filled with food, supplies, plenty a stuff to last for months. I figured I’d squat here in the middle of the building and just use everything up ‘til it’s gone. Doesn’t seem like anybody’s gonna be needin’ it any time soon.” He rubbed his hand against his chin, and the scraping sound made me squirm.

“Why do you stay in a classroom? Why not one with an actual bed? There has to be dormitories around here somewhere.”

Harlow pointed around him. “See? No windows. I can’t see out, but no one else can see in either.”

Mom finally spoke. “But the children can’t just be GONE. And what is this place? This isn’t somewhere fit for children at all. What happened?” She sounded frantic. I’d heard her sound angry, sad, happy, but not frantic. Saying that seeing her like that made me uncomfortable would be an understatement.

Harlow laughed again. “Look, lady, I don’t know where you come from, but ain’t nothin’ new and different about this school. This is how they all are. All of them.”

Mom’s knees buckled again. It didn’t get any easier each time she heard the children were gone. Bo and I had to grab each of her arms to keep her standing. “That can’t be.”

Harlow rose from his chair. “Yeah, at first there was some decorations. Good staff too. But there were just too many.”

“Too many what?” Bo asked.

“Children.”

Mom’s legs buckled completely, and before we could tighten our grips she slid to the ground. “No…it can’t…”

Harlow continued. “They just kept bringing more of them. Everything was fine when it was just the children of those druggies, drunks, and whatnot. But then they started bringin’ in kids whose parents committed crimes all the way back when they was teenagers. I mean, who didn’t shoplift a thing or two when they was teenagers? Then it was the kids whose parents were in too much debt. Then there were the ones whose parents was out of work for too long. Got so bad, there was kids who were in here who said their parents just hadn’t paid their parkin’ tickets. Whether that last part was true, I dunno. But the school had to cut somewhere. So first the decorations went. Then the computers. Then the really good teachers left so the councilors had to do everything. Then, one day, the children were gone too.”

A sob escaped from Mom’s lips. “What have I done?”

Bo helped Mom to the corner of the room and sat her down in one of the desks. He knelt next to her and just played with her hair as she cried, holding her hand the whole time.

I stayed with Cain and Jordyn. Jordyn moved closer to Harlow. “Harlow, I need to know if you remember two twin boys. We have reason to believe they were here. Brown hair, big brown eyes.”

Harlow ran his hand over the stubble on his chin. “Yes, I seem to remember some twin boys. They was here.”

Jordyn’s eyes twinkled. “Where do you think they would have taken them?”

“They had a filing system. That’ll tell ya. I know where the files might be. Aren’t in the security office, but I know where they probably are.”

Jordyn grabbed his hands in hers. “Please, tell us where to look.”

Harlow smiled. He removed his hand from Jordyn’s grasp and brushed her cheek. The way he towered over her made me feel lightheaded. I had seen that same smile before: on Olivia’s father’s face, then on Carl’s. “I think we may be able to come up with an arrangement.” Something bubbled up from my stomach and into my mouth that tasted like bile and tuna fish when she nodded. She took his hand and told us to leave.

“NO! You’re not doing that!” Mom sprang back to life, kicking desks out of her path as she made her way back to Jordyn. She slapped Harlow’s hand from Jordyn’s and looked her square in the eyes. “You can’t do this. Please. I can’t let you. Not today.” I held my breath.

Jordyn hesitated, but looked at Cain. He reassured her. “We’ll just have to find out where they are ourselves. This place isn’t that big.” Jordyn smiled. “Deal’s off.”

Cain told Harlow that we were going to stay the night in one of the dorm rooms around the corner. We followed Cain toward the door. Harlow grinned. “Suit yourself. But you’ll never find those files without my help.” He winked at Jordyn. I managed to meet his eye and glared back at him.

When we found a room to sleep in, Jordyn spoke up again. “He’s right, you know. We don’t have time to find those files ourselves.”

Cain squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll figure it out in the morning, I promise. He’s not going to keep them from us.”

Jordyn nodded, but I could tell she didn’t mean it. She stared off into the corner of the room, looking at God knows what.

I went up to her and took her hand in both of mine. “We’ll find them.”

The dorm room held a series of bunk beds. The stiff blankets reminded me of the cots we slept on in Cain and Jordyn’s hideout. I took the bottom bunk and Mom took the top. I don’t like heights. I wasn’t afraid of much, but put me on the top bunk and I’d freak—break out in sweat and everything. Jordyn was on the top bunk in the one next to us, with Cain on the bottom. I felt more at ease with him right next to us, but what Jordyn said about the files kept replaying through my mind, and my eyes refused to shut. Bo slept in the bottom bed of a third bunk, closest to the door.

Everyone snored around me, especially Bo. He sounded like a semi-truck barreling down the freeway. Sometimes he just made a gentle hum, but not that night. How anyone else was asleep, I had no idea. So I used my downtime to try and think how we were going to find those files. Jordyn wouldn’t want to leave without following that lead on her brothers, and I didn’t want her to change her mind about saying no to Harlow’s arrangement. Harlow seemed very proud of himself: “You’ll never find the files without my help.”

You’ll never find the files without my help.

…without my help.

I sat up straight in bed. I knew exactly where the files were.

I liked to think of myself as somewhat of a spy, a secret-hunter if you will. I knew my dad was going to file for divorce before he left us. He didn’t tell me, but I found the papers when I was looking for the tootsie roll stash that he thought I didn’t know about. The papers were right next to it in his office drawer.

I slid out of the blankets and put my feet on the floor. My favorite wool socks were still on my feet, so I was able to slide out of the room without waking anyone. The hallway was pitch black, but once my eyes got used to the dark, I could see little bits of light illuminating my way.

My plan was to be in and out before Harlow woke up. I would creep into his room. Sure, he would probably have the files close to him, but I could slip the files out of the room no problem. I thought I was that good. Cain had even noticed how quiet I could be. That had to count for something.

I slowly opened the door and peered inside. I could barely see without any windows to allow in moonlight, but I could make out a human-looking lump on the ground, covered with a blanket. Snoring came from that direction. I thought it would be easy. I crept closer.

Looking down at his sleeping face, I tried to see if there were files hidden under his pillow. I thought something so important he would bargain with would be on him while he slept. I was wrong. There was nothing under his pillow except hard concrete floor.

He didn’t stir, just steadily breathed in and out, his blanket vibrating slightly with each breath. I looked around to see if there was maybe another place in the room where he could have stashed the files. There was a cabinet on the other side of the room that looked like a file cabinet. Would that be too obvious? It was too tempting not to take a look. Just in case.

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