Don't Let Go (25 page)

Peter laughed again, then wondered if he was overdoing it. The guy didn’t seem to notice, though. He slid the hundred under the cash drawer, then started sorting through bills. “All right, I got a couple nice, crisp fives, that should do you. Okay if I give the rest in twenties?”

“Sure!” Peter said with enthusiasm. That got a raised eyebrow, but hell, at this point he was already going to be remembered.

A TV sat behind the counter, turned toward the clerk’s stool. The volume was off, but as he watched, the scene from Loki’s compound flashed on-screen. A second later, those same photos of him and Noa, with the headline:
NO LEADS ON HOMEGROWN TERRORISTS
.

He swallowed hard, praying the kid wouldn’t choose that moment to turn around.

“Here you go,” the guy said, handing him a thick stack of bills. “Let me know when you’re making some more of those hundos, I sure could use a few.”

“Thanks,” Peter said brightly. “See ya.”

“Hey.” The guy leaned across the counter on his forearms. “You famous or something?”

Everything inside Peter turned to jelly. “Who, me?”

“Yeah, I gotta say . . .” The kid pointed at him. “I’d swear I know you from somewhere.”

“Oh,” Peter said, slowly backing toward the door. “I get that a lot. People think I look like Matt Damon.”

The kid’s brow furrowed. “Nope, that’s not it.” He cracked his gum, then shook his head. “Man, it’s killing me. It’ll come to me, though.”

“Great,” Peter said, his heart hammering. “Let me know when you remember.”

“Sure thing,” the kid said, already turning back to the TV.

Peter had to force himself not to run back to the motel room. When he got there, Noa was still lying on the bed. “What’s up?” she asked blearily.

He raced around, packing up their things. “We gotta get out of here. I think the desk clerk recognized me.”

“Crap,” Noa groaned.

“I know.”

“Um, Peter?” she said.

“Yeah?”

She’d pushed herself up on her elbows. “We’ve got another problem.”

“Fantastic,” he muttered, winding up the power cable for the laptop and stuffing it in his pack. “What now?”

“I can’t see.”

“What?” He stopped dead and turned to face her.

Noa’s eyes looked normal, but her pupils were fixed on a spot to his right. “I closed my eyes while you were gone. And when I opened them again, they just . . . I don’t know. I think I’ve gone blind.”

PART THREE

FIGHT

CHAPTER TWELVE

D
aisy flipped through another magazine, then tossed it aside. Who knew that being held prisoner by an evil mastermind would be so damn boring. Moodily, she plopped back down in the window seat.

After showing them the video three days earlier, Pike had announced that considering their ages, he was uncomfortable with them sharing a bedroom. So he’d separated them. They’d protested; Teo actually took a swing at one of the guards, and had to be pretty much dragged from the room.

She’d tried to run, but they’d grabbed her, too. Since then, she’d been locked up in the original bedroom they’d shared. Three times a day, her guard escorted her down to the dining room. It was so freaking surreal: She and Teo were seated across from each other at the fancy table, being served amazing food on real china. But they couldn’t talk, not really; not with Charles Pike hovering over them like an anxious hen. Sometimes, it felt like she’d stumbled into one of those fairy tales where the princess was held captive in a tower.

At every meal, Pike asked if they’d reconsidered his offer: Hand over Noa, and he’d let them leave.

And each time, they told him to go to hell.

He was persistent, though. Asked all sorts of questions about how the units had coordinated with one another, how Peter and Noa communicated. She knew all about the online message boards, but there was no way she was sharing that information.

Daisy lay awake at night fantasizing about a classic Noa rescue attempt. The door to her room would suddenly burst open. Pike would shake uncontrollably as Noa or Peter tased him. She and Teo would laugh as they ran across the lawn hand in hand, alive and free. . . .

But that would only have worked months ago, when Persefone’s Army was still up and running. Noa and Peter alone . . . they could barely save themselves. And if she did contact them, they’d feel obligated to try, which would play right into Pike’s hands. The only conceivable reason he was keeping them alive was to act as bait.

She had to believe that Noa and Peter would find something on those damn hard drives. And that any day now, a slew of cop cars would come tearing up that driveway. Because if they failed, she and Teo were as good as dead.

So Daisy spent her days waiting. She slept, skimmed old magazines for the umpteenth time (God, what she’d do for a TV), and plotted out exactly what she’d do to Pike if she ever got the chance. Last night they’d been served steak, and she’d actually been given a sharp knife. She’d spent the entire dinner toying with it, trying to get up the nerve to plunge it in his chest. Teo frowned and shook his head slightly, casting his eyes to the guard a few feet away. And he was right; she probably wouldn’t be quick enough to do any real damage.

Still, it was so tempting to try. Daisy was going to lose her mind if she stayed cooped up like this much longer. It was funny; she’d spent her life cycling through all sorts of terrible, filthy living situations. If someone had told her it would be worse to be stuck in the nicest bedroom she’d ever seen, with nothing to do but hang out, she never would have believed them.

A tentative rap at the door.

She sat up straight in the window seat and called out, “Yeah? What now?”

The door cracked, and Pike stuck his head in. “I had a thought.”

“Awesome,” Daisy scoffed. “Those always work out great for me.”

“This one, I think you’ll like.” He smiled tentatively at her, but Daisy wasn’t buying it. The other day, she’d almost fallen for his sad dad routine. But three days of house arrest had proved he wasn’t a good guy; they’d been kidnapped, even if he wasn’t operating on them. Yet. And she didn’t doubt that in the end, he’d have them killed.

Pike gestured for her to join him. Daisy hesitated, then flounced off the bed. Leaving the room represented a chance to get away, although separating her from Teo had been smart. Together, they would have busted free by now. But she wasn’t willing to leave without him, and she knew he felt the same way. Daisy didn’t even know where he was being held; but this little expedition might help her suss it out.

They’d brought her clean clothes: jeans and a polo shirt. Probably the kind of thing a girl like Ella wore every day; Daisy hated them on principle. But her own clothes were filthy and threadbare, so she’d begrudgingly changed into them. They’d left her combat boots, though, which meant she got to stomp across the room toward him. “Field trip, huh? Yay.”

Pike looked perfect as always, dressed in the male equivalent of what she was wearing. As he strode down the hall, she pictured him twirling a tennis racket over his shoulder. The thought made her choke back a laugh.

“Something funny?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I was just thinking you could use a makeover,” she said. “Your outfit is pretty lame.”

He grimaced, then said lightly, “That’s exactly what Ella used to say.”

He led Daisy down the narrow flight of stairs that had become all too familiar. She was gradually developing a blueprint of the house in her mind: A right at the bottom of the staircase led to the study, dining room, and media room; left, to the room where he kept his daughter tied up.

He went left. Daisy’s footsteps slowed as they approached the door. “We’re going in there?” she demanded, stopping in her tracks.

Pike paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Ella’s awake today. I thought it might be nice for her to talk to someone her age for a change.”

“What, she doesn’t have any friends?”

“They stopped coming,” Pike said shortly. “There are so many misconceptions about PEMA. Some people still think it’s contagious.”

Tough to have guests when you’re holding teenagers hostage in your house, too
, Daisy thought. She really didn’t want to go in there. She wasn’t a big fan of sick people in general. Her aunt had died young, of cancer; she and her mom spent a lot of time visiting her toward the end. Daisy had hated everything about it: the nasty cafeteria food, that hospital reek, and the way her aunt was more sunken and withered every time they saw her. Until finally, one day, she was gone.

Daisy swallowed hard. Could that really be happening to Noa right now? She hadn’t been well since Santa Cruz, that was obvious. But was she dying?

No
, she told herself. Pike was just trying to trick them into giving her up.

Pike stepped into the room and motioned for her to join him. Daisy hesitated, but a sharp prod from one of the guards forced her inside. Slowly, she approached the bed.

It was tilted up at an angle. The same girl was lying there, in a different nightgown. Her eyes were open, and she looked less like a doll; she wasn’t tied up anymore, either, although there were marks on her wrists from the restraints.

“Who’s this?” the girl asked in a tired voice.

“A friend,” Pike said brightly.

Daisy snorted, and he threw her a stern look. He pulled a chair up alongside the bed and took one of his daughter’s hands. “You look so much better today, sweetheart.”

“Well, I feel like crap,” Ella muttered.

Daisy laughed out loud. Maybe Ella wasn’t so bad.

“This is Daisy,” Pike continued gently, like he was speaking to a small child. “She’ll sit with you for a bit.”

“Whatever.” Ella pulled her hand away and closed her eyes.

Pike held the chair for Daisy. She sat down cautiously and folded her hands in her lap. Glanced back over her shoulder: Pike had left a guard posted at the door.

Daisy sighed; she should have known he wouldn’t trust her alone with his precious daughter. She examined the room: A huge hedge rose halfway up the window, blocking the bottom. Even if she managed to distract the guard, she’d have to get past that . . .

“Plotting your escape?”

Daisy snapped her head back around; Ella was regarding her curiously. She debated how to respond. The guard was staring straight ahead, pretending he wasn’t listening.

What the hell
, she thought.
Worst-case scenario, they take me back to that damn room.
“Yeah,” she said. “You got any ideas?”

“Please. I’ve been trying to get out of here for months,” Ella said moodily. “I won’t leave until they carry me out.”

Daisy was tempted to reply that it would probably be the same for her, but the goon glowered at her warningly. She swallowed hard and said, “So how long have you been here?”

“You mean how long have I been dying?” Ella said wryly. “I don’t know. What month is it?”

“May,” Daisy said, startled that she didn’t know.

Ella put a hand to her forehead. “A year and a half,” she finally said. “I got sick around Christmas.”

“That sucks,” Daisy said sympathetically.

“Tell me about it,” Ella groaned. “It wasn’t so bad at first, but the last few months . . .” Her voice sounded smaller as she continued, “I haven’t been out of this room. Or this bed. And it’s like, I close my eyes, and when I wake up, a whole week has gone by.”

“Wow. That’s awful.”

“Plus I’m always afraid it’ll be the last time I wake up.” A tear rolled down Ella’s face. She swiped it away angrily. “I know, I’m a serious bummer.”

“You really are,” Daisy agreed.

Ella laughed; it was a nice laugh, high and full. Daisy smiled back at her. “So how’d he talk you into hanging out with me?”

“He didn’t give me much of a choice,” Daisy said truthfully.

“Yeah, that sounds like my dad. He can be pretty convincing when he wants something.” A shadow flitted across Ella’s face, then she said, “So do you know Z?”

“Z?” Daisy asked, frowning. “Who’s that?”

“The other ‘friend’ my dad has visit me. He’s in a wheelchair.”

“Nope,” Daisy said, her mind spinning. “Never met him.”
Is another kid being held captive here? And if so, why haven’t we seen him yet?
The wheelchair didn’t sound good, though. Maybe Z was a Project Persephone victim?

“Too bad. I thought you might’ve, since you’re from the same community service program. He’s pretty cool.” A small smile spread across Ella’s face as she added, “And hot, too.”

“Yeah?” Daisy said lightly, thinking,
Community service? Yeah, right
. “Then I definitely haven’t seen him. I have a boyfriend, though, so it wouldn’t matter.”

“You have a boyfriend?” Ella’s whole face lit up. “Tell me about him.”

“Oh, I reall—”

“Please?” Ella wheedled. “I’m so jealous. My boyfriend dumped me as soon as I got sick.”

“That’s terrible.” Daisy looked back toward the window; the top of a guard’s head passed by as he made his rounds. She sighed, then said, “His name is Teo, but I call him Teddy.”

“That is
so
cute,” Ella exclaimed.

“I know, right?” Her enthusiasm was contagious.

“So what’s he like?”

Daisy brightened, thinking of him. “He’s kind of shy, but really sweet. He gets really red when he’s embarrassed, which is, like, all the time. He’d do anything for me.”

Ella sighed. “That must be nice.”

“It is.” Daisy felt a pang. If she’d known they’d only have that one night together, she would have done things differently.

“Is he a good kisser?”

“The best,” Daisy said, feeling herself flush. “Like, he could give lessons.”

They both laughed. Daisy felt lighter than she had in months. This seemed almost normal, trading gossip about boys with a girlfriend.

Although this girl had a death sentence hanging over her head. The thought sobered her.

“Oh, crap. You got that look on your face,” Ella groaned.

“What look?”

“The ‘poor you’ look. Trust me, I see it all the time.” Ella picked at the blanket covering her legs. “Listen, I know we’re not really friends. But can you do me a favor?”