Infinity Lost (22 page)

I look over at the R.A.M. It’s kneeling, motionless, staring at the part of the dome wall where Jennifer and Amy escaped. It’s eerily quiet out there. Maybe Brent was right. Maybe Nanny Theresa thinks I got away. Maybe she’ll retreat back into the mainframe and all we have to do is wait for Amy and Jennifer to get help.

“Finn, look,” Bit says, pointing up at the screen.

One of the eight squares on the display is flickering on and off. Suddenly it blinks back on solid and the picture has changed. What was once showing a section of the gun-damaged barrier has now switched to an outside view of Dome Two.

There on the display is an image of Amy and Jennifer, standing on the edge of a small grassy area beneath an overhead monorail track outside. They’re holding each other and weeping.

Amy looks up from Jennifer’s shoulder and gives her a smile, the kind of frail, consoling, defeated smile that is only given when someone honestly can’t think of what to do next.

Jennifer looks back over her shoulder at the part of the dome wall from where they escaped. The image on the screen quickly zooms in close on her face, hovering on her features. Then the picture goes black.

Suddenly, all of the pictures on both sides of the room start changing rapidly, flicking on and off, shifting from place to place and showing camera feeds from all over Blackstone Technologies. There are flashes from every conceivable angle of the jungle in Dome One, alternating with multiple flashes of views from outside the other domes. I see our school bus flick on for a split second; another shows an overhead view of the car park, and there are shots of the rectangular stone arch, random trees and shrubs, and the exteriors of buildings I recognize from the 3-D model we saw earlier. There’s the pond I saw, the pathways between buildings, grassy nooks, sculptures in courtyards, gold-and-black warehouses, Dome Two again, monorail tracks, tall silver towers, and the sparkling diamond geode passageways just outside this clean room. There don’t seem to be any people anywhere. Where are all the people who work here?

Every section of screen on both displays is switching from location to location to location, changing faster and faster with every second. Ryan walks over and stands beside me. “I have a very bad feeling about this.”

“Me, too,” I whisper, turning to look back at the other wall. That’s when I notice.

All of its sections are flicking through different images. All except for one.

There, in the lower, right-hand corner, one section has remained unchanged.

It’s filled with the R.A.M.’s face, if you can really call a green dome with a black strip on it a “face.” It’s tilted slightly upward; the strip is blank, eyeless, like it’s thinking or listening for something or . . .

Bit grabs my arm.

“Finn! She’s looking for you! Through all of the cameras, Finn, she’s looking for you!”

“Wait,” says Ryan. “Who is
she
? And why is she looking for you . . . ?” Our eyes meet for a moment and I see the beginning of realization on his face.

I turn toward our display and fear stabs my stomach as I see a side view of myself flash across the center-left section of the screen. The section below it flicks to an image of me from across this very room. Another one flicks to a view of me from above, clearly displaying the top of my head. One by one, in quick succession, they all start changing: me from behind, me from my other side, me from a high corner of the room, me standing between Ryan and Bit, me close up, my face filling the entire frame of a section. One of them is a magnified picture of my eye while another is just my lips and nose. All the sections have changed, and all of them are focused directly on me.

I turn to look at the display across the room and it’s almost identical to ours, all the images of me turning at the same time like choreographed clones, all staring in their own different direction, but all with the same look of horror on my face, captured from every angle.

I can feel everyone’s eyes turn toward me, but I’m focusing all of my attention on the picture of the R.A.M.

In the lower-right corner section, the R.A.M.’s eyes blink on that sickening shade of silver gray. It slowly tilts its big green domed head up toward the camera, as if it were looking through the screen right at me. I swear, if that thing had a mouth, it would be grinning. The picture of the R.A.M. zooms in, right up to its gray-circle eyes, and its voice booms loudly from the display for everyone to hear.

“I’M COMING FOR YOU
 . . .
INFINITY.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

All sections on both displays cut off simultaneously.

Margaux turns and glares at me. “You!?” She boosts herself out of her chair and marches across the line, finger pointed accusingly, her face streaked with dried mascara, her pale-blue eyes sparkling with rage and disbelief. “
You’re
the one they’re looking for?!”

Ryan’s brow is lined with confusion. “Finn?”

All I can do is hang my head.

“Listen, none of this is Finn’s fault,” Bit says, standing between me and Margaux.

I know she’s trying to be a good friend, but she’s wrong. This is my fault.

“Everyone out there died because of you!” screams Margaux. “Millie is dead . . . because of you!”

“I don’t get it,” says Brody. “What’s going on?”

“Why are the hackers after
you,
Finn?” asks Ryan.

“Who are you? Who are you really?!” yells Brent, his tear-reddened eyes narrow with suspicion. “People are dead because of you!”

I ball my fingers into fists and screw my eyes shut. They’re right. So many died today because of me, and I have absolutely no idea why. My burning sorrow and utter frustration come bursting out of my mouth.

“SHUT UP! EVERYONE JUST SHUT UP!”

I yell so loudly that Bit and Margaux both jolt in their skins. Everyone is staring at me in silence. I take a deep breath and focus on a spot on the floor.

“This is going to take way too long to explain, and we don’t have much time. All you need to know is that someone dangerous is controlling this place, and they’re coming. We need to get out of here. Right now!”

Ryan steps forward by my side.

“You heard her. Everyone grab a chair and pick a door.”

Margaux and the boys just stand there, stunned, looking back and forth at each other, unsure of what to think or do. I can’t say that I blame them. I focus on Margaux, staring right into her eyes. “If we don’t get out of here . . . we are all going to die in here.”

“No,” Margaux says, glaring right back; her expression hardens. “They only want
you
.”

“Well, I’m not going to get caught in the crossfire like everyone else did,” says Brent. He nods at Brody. “Let’s get out of here.”

Without a word Brody turns and crosses the room, scoops a toppled chair off the ground, and flings it one-handed at the closest door. The frosted glass resounds with a hollow ring and the chair clatters off to the side. The door wobbles but it doesn’t break.

“Let me try.” Brent picks up his chair and walks over to Brody’s door. He swings around in a full circle, and, with a loud grunt, slams the chair into the glass. A low ring pounds from the door, but the chair bounces off just like the others and skates across the floor.

“These doors are impossible to break,” Brent says, dejected.

Ryan grabs another chair. “Keep trying.”

I turn and look at Bit. She smiles at me, but it’s a feeble smile. I can see in her eyes how afraid she is.

Margaux is just standing there with her arms folded across her chest, glaring at me with burning anger.

I turn, grab my chair, and head for door number two.

A steady pounding rhythm reverberates around the room as Ryan, by door one, and Brent and Brody, by door three, slam their chairs against the frosted glass.

I grip my chair tightly and focus on the large gray “2” stenciled on the door in front of me.

I swing back and heave the chair against the door with a loud involuntary scream.

It bounces off and the door shivers pathetically.

I grip the chair tighter. This time. This time it
will
break.

I hoist the chair over my head, take a huge, deep breath, and, screaming with rage, swing the chair at the door with all my might. It slams against the door and rebounds off, out of my hands, flying backward into the air behind me. I examine the door, and, to my delight, see that a hairline crack has cleaved the frosted glass from top to bottom.

I feel a moment of pure elation. “I almost did it!” I spring forward and push hard on the door with all my weight, but it doesn’t budge. One or two more hits like that ought to do it.

I turn to retrieve my chair. I take three steps toward it and freeze in my tracks.

The third Drone has stepped forward from the line.

Margaux lets out an ear-piercing scream as the Drone slowly turns its silver-hooded head and looks directly at me.

She’s here. Nanny Theresa is
here
.

Everyone else is staring at the Drone, and they all look as petrified as I feel. Margaux and Bit are backing away from it, Brent is hiding behind Brody, and Ryan has his chair gripped tightly in his hands, pointing its legs at the Drone like a lion tamer at a three-ring circus.

I lunge forward and snatch my chair from the floor.

The Drone advances toward me. I spin on my heels and run the other way, swinging my chair up over my head as I go. I heave it forward, yelling at the top of my lungs, and slam it against the cracked door. The glossy-white chair snaps at the base as the frosted-glass rectangle shatters, pouring thousands of tiny pieces down in a door-shaped cascade before avalanching in all directions across the white-tile floor.

I lose my footing, slipping on the tiny fragments of glass, and fall onto my knees into the short white corridor beyond. I skitter around on all fours in the sea of frosted pebbles, desperately trying to get to my feet when I suddenly feel a hand clench my ankle with an iron grip. I kick back as hard as I can, but I can’t escape the Drone’s hold. It fiercely yanks me backward off the ground and I scream as I’m sent tumbling, arms and legs flailing, high through the air.

I slam hard into the first Drone in the line and the wind is punched out of me as it dominoes into the second. They both topple over like giant pins in a bowling alley, and I crumple into a heap on the cold white floor.

I look up, struggling for breath, and through the tangled mess of hair across my face I see the Drone striding toward me, straight-backed and regimental just like Nanny Theresa used to, its arm stretched out in front of it as it reaches down to grab me again. With a glossy-white flash and a loud crack, a chair smashes across the back of its head and it falls onto its knees, its quietly whirring hand clutching at the air three inches from my face.

Brody raises the chair again and brings it down hard on the Drone’s back, flattening it to the floor as Ryan grabs my hand and pulls me sliding in his direction. The Drone lies motionless, Brody still standing above it with the chair at the ready, watching it for the slightest twitch. All of a sudden, the fifth Drone steps forward from the line and strides toward me.

Ryan sees it coming and grabs for the chair beside him. He manages to get one hand on it and swings it at the oncoming Drone. It effortlessly catches one of the chair legs, wrenches it out of Ryan’s hand, and tosses it aside. With lightning speed, it grabs Ryan’s wrist and viciously jerks. I hear the pop of his shoulder dislocating from its socket as he flies through the air and lands heavily on his back. His head smacks against the floor and he’s knocked senseless, clear on the other side of the room.

Panting uncontrollably, I kick my feet against the floor, sliding backward, trying to get away. My back hits up against the wall with a thud.

The Drone walks forward and reaches down toward me.

My heart is racing in my chest and I hold my hand up in futile defense. “No. Please.” It bends down and grabs my hand, crushing my fingers. I scream in agony as the bones pop and break; excruciating pain shoots up my arm as my fingers splay out in contorted angles from the edge of the Drone’s vise grip.

It releases my hand and I quickly pull my badly broken fingers to my chest. Through the tears streaming from my eyes, I see the Drone’s oval mask morphing its shape, hissing softly, grotesquely sculpting itself from a shiny black plastic gloss into deep lines of wrinkled, leathered flesh. Lips and eyes and a pock-marked nose mold into being as its eyelids flicker and snap open. Looking down on me with an icy-gray glare is the all-too-familiar face that even death could not destroy: the fully formed and resurrected mask of Dr. Theresa Pierce.

The face smiles before it speaks, and, when it does, its sneer seems to glisten with the bitter venom of absolute hatred.

“Nanny Theresa is here to tuck you in, Infinity. And this time, child, just to be sure, your head comes away from your neck.”

It reaches down. Its silver fingers are a hair’s breadth from my throat and I’m defenseless to stop it. I close my eyes. Maybe when I’m dead it will let everyone else go? A whimper escapes my lips and I sob as I brace myself for the pain. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I hear what I can only describe as a full-blown battle cry. I open my eyes. The outstretched hand is still hovering at my throat, but Nanny Theresa’s face has turned toward the roaring voice as Brody sails through the air and hits the Drone from the side with a brutal shoulder tackle, wiping it clean off its feet. Brody and the Drone slide across the floor, grappling as they go. Brody struggles to fight back, but the Drone is far too strong. It wrestles around and grabs him in a bear hug from behind. Brody arches his neck in pain as it squeezes him with a python-like death grip.

“Brody!” I screech. I watch in horror as Brody’s face begins turning purple and his eyes roll back in his head. “Leave him alone! You want to kill me! I’m right here! Leave him alone!” I’m not sure if what I just said made any difference, but Nanny Theresa’s face instantly changes back to a smooth black plastic oval, like a switch has been flicked off, leaving Brody lying on the floor, groaning in pain, but thankfully alive, trapped in the Drone’s frozen embrace.

The Drone at the end of the line, number six, moves its arms, flexes its fingers, and looks toward Margaux, who shrieks and crouches down on the floor, hiding her face in her arms. I stare at the back of its head, cradling my own twisted, buckled digits with my other hand, wincing with pain.

I look over at Bit. She’s sitting on the floor against the wall with her knees against her chest, her eyes filled with tears. “Bit! Get out of here!” I yell, pushing my back against the wall, sliding up onto my feet. Bit doesn’t move. She’s staring into space. The gravity of everything that has happened has finally weighed her down and closed her off.

“Brent!” I shout. He flinches, cowering behind his chair. “Break the outer door! Get us out of here! Hurry!”

He nods, picks up his chair and, half-skidding on the small glass pebbles, disappears into the white corridor beyond door two. Ryan is still on the floor, dazed, moaning and clutching his shoulder.

“Leave them alone!” I yell at the back of the sixth Drone’s head.

It turns toward me, Nanny Theresa’s face fully formed on its lithe silver body. The effect is wholly unnerving.

It glances at Brody on the floor. He’s straining to move the inert Drone’s arms but is clearly failing. He’s obviously no longer a threat to Nanny Theresa and is also in absolutely no position to help me, either. I’m grateful that he tried. The Drone steps over him and slowly continues walking toward me.

“Why?” I whimper softly. “I know you’re going to murder me . . . but before you do, I need to know why.”

It stops and looks at me, tilting its head, Nanny Theresa’s eyes narrowing as if she were pondering my final request.

“Why?” it says in Nanny Theresa’s voice. A voice I never imagined would be the last voice I would ever hear. “I’m not going to murder you, Infinity. It isn’t possible to murder something that was never human to begin with.”

I open my mouth to say something but no words come out. I’m too dumbfounded to form any kind of response.

Nanny Theresa’s expression is one I can only describe as bemused.

“Poor Infinity. I have to admit, there were times when I almost felt sorry for you. You were always kept so deep in the dark.”

All I can do is look at her with complete confusion.

“That sentimental idiot, Major Brogan, is the one to blame.
He
is the reason for all your suffering, Infinity.
He
is the one who tried to make you into something that you are not.”

My mind is reeling with bewilderment. “What . . . what are you talking about?”

“He thought he had found a way to give you a normal life. The fool was even granted permission to send you to school, for heaven’s sake. But it was an existence you were never meant to have, Infinity. A life you were never meant to know. All he succeeded in doing was blinding you to who you really are.”

“Who I really am?” I whisper.

The Drone with Nanny Theresa’s face takes another step toward me. I back away, hitting up against the wall.

“Tell me.” I can’t stop my voice from faltering. “Please . . . who am I?”

“Did I say
who
?” The Nanny Theresa mask smiles snidely. “I’m sorry, please excuse my inaccuracy. I meant to say,
what
you really are.”

It reaches a silver hand toward me and cruelly curls its artificial fingers around my neck.

“Finn!” yells Ryan. I can see him over the Drone’s shoulder, struggling to his feet, wincing in pain, his arm dangling uselessly by his side.

Tears stream down my cheeks. “Tell me, please, I need to know . . . what am I?”

Its grip on my throat tightens and I flail at the Drone’s side with my good hand. It has absolutely no effect.

Nanny Theresa’s face leans in close and softly whispers in my ear, “You, my dear, are the key to a door that should never be opened.”

I shut my eyes tight and hope that this will all be over quickly. Splinters of light streak through the dark and my breaths get shorter as the Drone’s fingers squeeze even tighter. Flashes of faces explode in my mind. I see Jonah’s smile—a smile that I used to adore. The sky is blue above him, the clouds cotton white. I see Bit sitting at her desk in our dorm room, laughing at one of my terrible jokes. Carlo’s deep, emerald-green eyes look into mine, sparkling in the afternoon sunlight as he leans in to kiss me. Our lips softly touch and for a fleeting instant I’m thirteen again, reliving the happiest moment of my life.