Escape from Eden (30 page)

“Maybe.”

“Then why would Agatha give Bridgette a key to it?”

“I’m only throwing out ideas, Ricci. We’ll head back to the infirmary, then over to the kitchen.”

“Agatha was on her way to the kitchen when I saw her,” I said. “What if she’s still there?”

“We wait for her to leave.”

On our way back to the infirmary, I wondered if Agatha was really cleaning up after Bridgette or if she had other plans in the kitchen. Her making an excuse to me seemed …
off
.

“We have to hurry,” I said.

“What’s the hurry?”

“I think Agatha’s up to something in the kitchen that doesn’t have anything to do with Bridgette’s slacking off. Bridgette wouldn’t slack off. She’s too holier-than-thou to risk looking bad in front of anyone. Especially me.”

“Wait,” Gabriel said. He dropped his knee to tie his boot.

Impatiently, I waited in the center of the tunnel, arms folded and foot tapping. I was sure I had a sneer on my face. Just looking at him was making me angry. He wanted to apologize. For whatever happened under the stairs. I wasn’t even sure what happened under the stairs.

Gabriel glared at me. “What’s wrong with you all of a sudden?”

“Will you just hurry up?”

He straightened. “Look, Mia, if this is about what just happened, I want to talk—”

Down the tunnel, the sound of a motor buzzed—the same sound as the golf cart Freddie drove. It was coming from the opposite direction of the infirmary. We both took off running toward the infirmary, the sound of our pounding feet reverberating through the tunnel. I wondered frantically if we could be heard over the motor. We dashed to the top of the stairs to the infirmary and stopped. Over the sound of the motor, over the sound of everything, we heard shouts. Sharp, angry shouts. The words were muffled from behind the steel door to the infirmary.

The sound of the motor grew closer. Gabriel and I huddled in the small doorframe, as if the darkness could conceal us from what was barreling down the tunnel. With a sudden slam, the yelling on the other side of the door stopped, and the motor barreling down the tunnel gunned louder.

I twisted the door handle and cautiously pushed the door open. Gabriel gave it an impatient shove and dashed inside, tugging me along with him. The door closed behind me, silencing the sound of the cart.

Inside, heavy darkness hung around us, a single lamp over the desk in the exam room throwing a streak of long, dim illumination into the back hall, where we stood motionless, waiting for a clue of what to do next. Was anyone in the infirmary? Were we alone? It was late, probably almost midnight.

I stepped forward first. I felt Gabriel behind me, giving me the confidence to move ahead without having to look back. The exam room was empty. Tables lined either side, each neatly set up for the next patient, much like we’d left it before we’d gone into the tunnels. My raincoat remained where I’d left it. It was an Edenton uniform raincoat, so it could have been anyone’s. And I had more to worry about than someone discovering my raincoat in the infirmary.

“What do you think all that yelling was about?” Gabriel whispered in my ear.

I suppressed a shudder. “I don’t know.”

I trudged to the front door of the infirmary. It was closed, the blinds over the glass shut tight but still swinging slightly, an echo of the door being slammed. I pried open the slats of the blinds.

“Oh, God,” I cried at what I saw.

“What is it?” Gabriel came up behind me and looked outside.

In the misting rain, dark figures wrestled on the muddy ground. Punches were thrown. Grunts and pained moans sounded through the glass of the door’s window.

“That’s Grizz,” Gabriel whispered.

“Who is he fighting?”

The other man got to his feet, and flipped back his dreadlocks, water flicking off them into tiny, reflective droplets in the overhead light. I went dizzy at the sight.

“It’s Doc Gladstone,” I gasped.

Other figures appeared and dragged Doc Gladstone to his knees. Grizz, standing above him, wore an expression of disgust, and worry. He reached down to the side of his belt, where he kept his walkie-talkie, and found it missing, slashing his arm though the air with an angry punch that hit nothing.

“Why you?” he yelled down at Doc Gladstone.

Doc Gladstone did nothing, said nothing. He remained on his knees as one security guard tied his arms behind his back. Another lifted him to his feet, and shoved him toward the door of the infirmary.

“Hide!” I said and we scrambled around for a place to go. I slid into a spot under the desk and Gabriel crouched beside the bookcase.

The door flew open, banging against the wall, blinds jangling in an outraged crash. I jumped at the sound. My mind, blank with distress and fear, couldn’t focus on what was happening.

Squeaking and clomping footsteps led to the back hallway. Doc Gladstone, in his lilting accent, said, “You’re making a mistake, Grizz. This is a mistake.”

“Shut up!” Grizz yelled, sounding angry, but also hurt, as if tears could burst from his eyes at any moment.

High-pitched beeps from the keypad by the door to the tunnel sounded. The men stormed through the door, letting it fall closed with a soft click. Then, silence.

“What the hell?” Gabriel asked in a whisper.

I crawled out from under the desk and stared into the hallway, at the door to the tunnel. The floor leading to it showed a violent pattern of sliding, muddy footsteps.

I turned to Gabriel, who still stood by the bookshelves. Sickening shock hit me. Doc Gladstone’s bookcase for his medical journals, the ones that held the secret messages from the network, was completely empty.

Jittery, I grabbed my raincoat from the exam table and punched my arms into the sleeves. Gabriel, seeing my panicky gestures, unhooked his raincoat from the coatrack and gave me a curious look. I snatched Gabriel’s wrist and dragged him toward the door.

“We need to move,” I said, blinking back tears.

“Can you at least explain to me what is going on?” Gabriel said, tagging behind with a mystified expression. “What just happened with Gladstone?”

“Walk and talk,” I said, peeking out the door.

The rain turned into a hazy mist, blowing through the air like tiny white insects. With a trembling hand, I fished the last microphone from my pocket and headed out of the infirmary with Gabriel in tow.

“Where are we going to plant that one?” he asked.

“We’re not,” I said, twisting it to turn it on. I wiped my eyes as subtly as I could. I didn’t want Gabriel to see I was crying.

I led Gabriel to the path. Before lifting the mic to my mouth, I glanced around. All the security guards seemed to be elsewhere. Maybe they were guarding Doc Gladstone. With a sinking feeling in my chest, I hoped all they were doing was guarding him.

“Hey,” I said quietly into the mic. “This is Mia. I’m not sure if you can hear me, but the security guards just took Doc Gladstone away. And all the medical journals are gone. So, they’ll know everything soon. Whatever plan you have in place to save the Flock, it needs to happen sooner rather than later.” I twisted the microphone off and stuck it in my pocket.

Gabriel maneuvered around a puddle. “Why did Grizz take Doc Gladstone away?” he asked.

“He was …” I paused, “… is the network’s inside source.”

His face didn’t show any signs of shock at my news. “Well, I think we’re the network’s inside sources now.”

“Gabriel … you’re right,” I said, a little to myself. “I just hope—” I took a breath to keep from sobbing. “I just hope they don’t kill him.”

“Should we go see if we can find him? Back to the tunnels?”

“No.” I took his elbow. “We need to get to the kitchen, find the poison in the pantry, and return the key to Bridgette before she gets up in the morning.”

“Then what?”

“We need to figure out how the network can invade Edenton. How they can get in here and get everyone out without anyone being killed.”

“And that sounds like a perfectly reasonable, doable plan,” Gabriel said under his breath. “Easy as falling off a branch.”

“A log.”

“Huh?”

“It’s ‘easy as falling off a log.’”

“For you, maybe. I’m the one who’d never climbed a tree, remember?”

We sloshed along the path. Plants and trees around us dripped with water. Rivulets ran down the paths, pooling into puddles of mud. I tried to ignore the bleakness of our situation and continue forward. Without Doc Gladstone, without the information he had on the inside workings of Edenton, what was I going to do?

“Ah,” Gabriel said suddenly. “So that’s why the drugs he gave me today didn’t work.”

“What?”

“Earlier, when I was supposed to ‘regain my memories,’ that’s why the drug he gave me didn’t work. Because he’s part of the network.”

“They were just supposed to make you relaxed, make it seem like the drugs were working for Thaddeus’s sake.”

“Damn. I’m glad I didn’t say anything to screw it up.” He stepped over a large mud puddle, then held out his hand for me. “And the journals? Why are they significant?”

I took his hand and he helped me over the puddle. “That’s how the network communicated with Doc Gladstone. No doubt Thaddeus is going through all of them now and, before long, he’ll find out why I’m back. The last communication between the network and Gladstone was about me coming back to Edenton to help him. I don’t think they know about you, though. Although I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

Gabriel let go of my hand. “And take us like they did Gladstone.”

“Yeah,” I said with sickening certainty.

A light was burning in the kitchen window when we approached. I leaned against the door, trying to hear if someone was inside. My nerves buzzed, shredded since watching Doc Gladstone taken down so violently by the guards. I couldn’t wait for Agatha to leave. I needed to at least get inside the kitchen and see what she was doing.

“Wait here,” I whispered and started for the door handle.

Gabriel grabbed my arm. “No.”

“I’m going to find out what Agatha is up to. How am I going to explain why you’re with me?” I asked.

He lowered his eyes, as if in thought, then nodded. “Okay, it’s fine.”

“Oh, so it’s fine, is it?” I reached for the door handle again. “I’m so glad to hear you think it’s fine,” I mumbled.

The door opened silently. Inside it was warm and dry. But it still smelled like bleach, not like there’d been any cooking or baking.

“Agatha?” I called

A crash sounded, pots hitting the ground, then a shadow shot up from the floor and stumbled forward into the light.

“What are you doing here?” Bridgette asked. Her hair was pulled back in a perfect knot. Her uniform was wrinkled in places, but otherwise in order. Her dog-tag necklace was slung around her neck, outside her collar.

“Looking for Agatha.” I glanced around. “Is she here?”

“No.”

“Why are you here?” I asked.

Her hand clutched her wrist. The wrist where she’d worn the key. “Looking for something.”

Before I could hide it behind my back, her eyes shot to my own wrist. “Why do you have my key?” she yelled, lunging forward.

I twisted my arm behind me, covering the coiled yellow plastic with my hand. “I’m borrowing it!” I yelled back.

She slammed into me, knocking me back against the counter.

“It’s not yours! Agatha gave it to me!”

The kitchen door swung open and Gabriel sauntered in. “Hi, girls,” he said as he walked over to the refrigerator, opened it, and peered in.

Bridgette palmed my shoulder and tried to twist me around, facing the counter. I bracketed my legs in place, but her grip tightened.

Gabriel snatched a Tupperware bowl from the refrigerator, lifted the lid, and sniffed it. “This may have gone bad,” he said, wrinkling his nose.

“What are you two doing here?” Bridgette demanded, swiping at my hands.

“I need to look in the provisions pantry,” I struggled to say as she grabbed at my arm and scrabbled around for the key.

“It’s not your pantry to look in!” she yelled. “Agatha gave me that key! You stole it! I’m in charge of this kitchen!”

Scrambling to stay on my feet, I looked over her head at Gabriel. “Little help?” I asked him.

Gabriel shut the fridge. “I’m going to hold you down while Mia looks through the pantry,” he said as he walked over to us. “Although, I was hoping to never have to touch you, Bridgette.” He scooped her up and she flailed against him.

“Get off me!” she said, struggling away from him. “I know about you, Gabriel. I know what kind of guy you are. How you used girls before you came to Edenton.”

Gabriel’s eyes turned hard as stone, but he didn’t let go of her. Instead, he ignored her furious cries and pinned her arms back behind her.

Used girls?

I straightened my shirt. The provisions pantry was in the back of the kitchen. As I passed Bridgette to get to it, she swiped a caged-tiger paw at me.

“I’m going to tell Agatha about this!” she cried.

“And I’ll tell her how I got the key,” I said, sliding the key into the lock. I glanced back over my shoulder. “Do you think Freddie will be embarrassed that I saw him naked? I mean, I’ve seen you naked plenty of times, so earlier in the guard house really doesn’t count.”

Bridgette went limp with shock and forced down a visible lump in her throat.

“Mia likes to watch,” Gabriel whispered in her ear.

I shot him a squinty scowl and unlocked the pantry. “You’re disgusting, Gabriel.”

“You’re the one who watched through the window.” Then he spoke to Bridgette. “I would have had the decency to at least clear my throat. You know, in case you liked being watched.”

Bridgette, to her credit, stood stone-faced, sagging in Gabriel’s arms like a stringless marionette. I’d expected a tantrum. But, thankfully, she didn’t utter a word.

The pantry door creaked open. It was cool inside, not quite as cold as the refrigerator, but much cooler than the other pantry we used to house the canned goods. A little light switched on as the door opened and I peered in. Lining the shelves were various objects that seemed peculiar for Edenton: expensive-looking chocolate in a red velvet box, a jar with flakes of edible gold, three bottles of wine with foreign labels, a couple of cured meats wrapped in thin twists of string hanging from bars along the top, a few small glass jars filled with exotic sauces that we never used in the dishes we served day after day. At the very bottom of the pantry sat large containers of shrink-wrapped powdered Tang.