Overtaken (22 page)

“Maya? Oh my God . . .” Chase was truly shaken to see Maya standing right in front of him.

“Miss me, Chase?” Maya slunk toward us between the rows of cars, top lit with sodium shadows and light.

I took my eyes off of her long enough to notice that the windows in the cars closest to her were starting to vibrate.

Chase stood there for a moment, totally speechless.

“Maya's been staying with me.” I came clean right then and there, about as much as I could, at least. “It isn't safe for her in Barrington, and I didn't want word to get out.” I shot a glance to Maya. This was where things could get truly dicey. Maya and high emotions did not play well together, as evidenced by the pulsating metal and glass on all sides of her. Her powers were at the whim of her building fury. I was praying Chase didn't notice.

“Where did you go? What, I mean, where—where have you been?” he stammered.

Please don't be stupid. Don't tell him why you really left.

Maya, much to her credit, played it totally cool. “My family was falling apart, okay? I know you weren't really paying attention to our relationship by the time I had to get outta here, so forgive me for not making it crystal clear.”

Wasn't much Chase could say to that, and while he tried to formulate his next words, Maya stared me down. “I'm here for Nica.”

I gave Chase a quick peck on the cheek. “Go home. I'll catch up with you later.”

“No, I want to . . .” Chase looked so confused that he couldn't even finish his thought.

“Chase, there are a lot of things you're good at, but this is not one of those things. Let me handle it, okay? Go.”

To his credit, he did. Got right in his car and left. I hoped I'd made the right decision. Maya waited for him to pull away before she continued.

“Snooping on Dana, huh? You didn't have to lie to me, Nica. We're in this together.”

I felt awful at having deceived her, but I had been keeping tabs on Dana, too. “I know, but Chase and you have history together. . . . I wasn't sure you could handle it. Not that there's really much to tell. Nevertheless, I didn't want to dump one more huge change in your lap.”

“If I could handle him, I think I can handle this. I get it. Things have been rough and you drifted together. I just hope you have better luck with him than I did.”

I was relieved. It seemed like Maya was going to avoid a major meltdown. I decided to fill her in on the last detail, too. “It's not at all serious, but we're going to the Winter Formal together this weekend, too. Just so you know.”

“Oh, good,” she said quite matter-of-factly. “I'll see you there.”

“What? You can't come!” That came off harsher than I'd meant it to. “I mean, no one knows you're here.”

“They will,” she declared.

“What do you mean?” I started to get a very uneasy feeling.

“I'm sick of floating around this town in the dark at night. I want to have my life back. And that means going through her.” Maya's eyes narrowed at a target over my shoulder.

I turned around and saw Dana, still dolled up in her cheerleading uniform, heading to her car. I spun back to Maya.

“No, no, no. Bad idea. Terrible idea,” I whispered, pulling her into the shadows behind some trees. “Our one advantage right now is that Dana doesn't know you're back. You can't blow that.”

“I have to, Nica. I don't have any other choice.” She shoved my hand off her arm and took to her target like a missile. “Dana! Dana Fox!”

Dana froze in her tracks as Maya emerged from the shadows. Even though all our plans were about to crumble around us, I took what little glee I could in watching Dana's eyes almost bug out of her head. She'd been totally in control until this moment, aware of each move anyone in her circle made—hell, aware of each move I made—but she hadn't seen Maya coming until she stepped into the full glow of the streetlights.

“Maya. Oh my God, hey!” Dana came in for a big reunion hug.

Maya didn't move. She closed her eyes, and without even breaking a sweat, flung an unsuspecting Dana to the ground with barely a look.

“Don't even,” said Maya. “I want to get a couple things straight.” Emboldened by the warning shot, I had Maya's back and followed her toward her dazed prey.

“You,” snarled a very pissed off Dana as she spotted me advancing toward her.

“I know. I'm everywhere these days, huh?” I snapped back with a shrug as Dana recovered, brushing pebbles and pavement from her palms.

“You put her up to this?” she accused, referring to Maya's sudden reappearance in Barrington.

“Not at all,” Maya responded. “I've been wanting to do that for quite a while.”

“You know she's screwing your ex,” Dana pronounced, revealing her nasty true nature with surprising venom. Her cool and collected mask of sweetness was finally giving way to something real and ugly.

“First of all: Nica's not,” Maya replied confidently. “Second: We just tabled that discussion, and I think it'll work out fine.”

“Whatever. You freaks deserve each other,” Dana barked back with utter contempt.

She started to push herself up to her feet, but the steel-eyed Maya took two steps toward Dana and forced her back to the ground without even a touch. Dana struggled to get up again, fighting against whatever force Maya was exerting, to no avail. Reality seemed to shiver as Maya applied a second wave of psychic pressure that bore down on Dana's chest like a boulder. Dana gasped and tried to catch her breath. The fear and terrified realization in her face that Maya was a formidable opponent almost made me feel pity for Dana. Almost. I enjoyed watching Dana cowed and overwhelmed with such apparent ease. Yet, despite the power I felt, I was also hit with an unexpected sadness. In that moment, the tables had been turned. Maya and I were the bullies.

“Here's the deal: Nica told me everything,” Maya announced, clearly enjoying being in control of the situation. “I know what you're up to, and I want it to stop. I want you to leave Nica alone. I want you to let her have her friends back, and I want you to bring her dad back—whatever that takes. And I want you to know your place. I'm never going back to being number two around here. Ever.”

I watched as Maya's jaw clenched, and a moment later Dana was lifted into the air and dropped roughly to her feet. “Understand?”

Dana remained silent. She wouldn't give us the pleasure of repeating it. She folded her arms defiantly and just glared back at Maya and me.

“Say it,” demanded Maya, “or we're going to have a problem.”

I felt proud of Maya, who had so evidently embraced her abilities and come into her own during the months of her exile.

“The problem is that you're here,” Dana snarked back, unbowed by Maya's display of impressive power. “I don't even have to give you bitches the chance, but I will: Get out of Barrington. Both of you. Or I won't be responsible for what happens.”

I knew that Dana's threat was clear and unequivocal. She'd go to war with us in a heartbeat.

Maya's nostrils flared. That was not the answer she was looking for. I braced myself as Maya started to press harder, crushing the breath from Dana's lungs like a human tube of toothpaste.

“Maya,” I cautioned, “let it go.”

The cheerleader began to turn shades of purple and blue as she tried to suck air into her useless lungs.

“Stop!” I yelled, worried that she would actually kill Dana right there in the school parking lot.

Maya wouldn't stop, or perhaps couldn't. She was losing control, and the furious look in her angry eyes said she wanted to kill Dana. I froze, trying to figure out what to do to defuse the situation. I couldn't let this go any further, but Maya was much more powerful than I was. If I tried to physically intervene, would she turn her rage on me?

I took my chances and grabbed Maya by the shoulders. “Stop it!”

Finally, something shook loose. I saw the shift in Maya's eyes as she snapped back to reality, huffing like she'd just run a marathon.

Dana sucked in air, her chest heaving up and down as she quickly came back from the brink of unconsciousness. Released from Maya's hold, Dana scrambled backward and then launched to her feet and ran for her car.

“Let's go,” Maya ordered as she threw her hood up to hide her face from the rest of the crowd still emptying out of the gym and retreated back into the darkness.

As I followed Maya away from the school and her dangerous public display of powers, I felt something horrible brewing all around us. I should've known this was the beginning of the end, but I was so overwhelmed by the fact that our cover was blown that I couldn't focus on what had just happened. I could only think about what would happen next.

There was no way I could go to the Winter Formal. For that matter, there's no way I could let Chase go to the Winter Formal either. If Dana and Maya ever found themselves together in the same room again, there was no telling what could happen.

•  •  •

All of that was on the tip of my tongue that Friday night when my doorbell rang. I was sitting on my bed in sweats and a T-shirt, waiting for that chiming
bing-bong
, dreading it, and hoping that maybe the dance would just get canceled. After all, Dana knew the stakes; Maya seemed out for blood. Dana could easily have gotten the event shut down if she were concerned enough, but she wasn't. Once the moment in the parking lot passed and she'd filled her lungs with air again, she must've convinced herself that Maya was just making an idle threat. She was so wrong.

At the same time, I knew there was no easy way to explain all of this to Chase, which is how I'd let things get this far. I stayed out of school after the parking-lot incident and kept dodging his insistent calls and texts that we discuss Maya's reappearance. I kept hoping some random turn of events would remove the wall at my back and allow me to make a smooth escape:
Sorry, Chase. Can't go to the dance. My dad needs me to pick him up from somewhere in Florida. Sorry, Chase. Can't go to the dance. The world's about to end
. I mean, anything at this point would be better than answering that bell. But nothing had come up. The situation was this: Chase was at my door, ready to take me to the dance, and I was going to have to let him down because of a war that only I, his ex, and Dana knew was brewing.

I took slow steps down the stairs as the bell rang again, rehearsing what I could say to him and coming up empty over and over again. It was like I was watching someone else as I stepped to the door and opened it. Chase's muscular fame stood in the doorway, beaming at me. Strong, handsome, and smooth in his designer dinner jacket, he looked every inch the suitor I knew he would. I didn't swoon, but I allowed myself to stare. I couldn't help but fantasize about him scooping me up and whisking me away, but before I could get much further, his face fell.

“Where's your dress? I thought you'd be ready.”

“I can't,” I said apologetically.

“You can't get dressed? I can help you with that.” He smirked.

“No,” I replied, shaking my head and trying not to laugh at his one-track mind. “I can't go to the dance with you, Chase.”

A curtain of silence fell between us.

“Can . . . Can I come in?” I silently stepped aside as he continued. “If this is about Maya . . .”

“There's a lot going on in my life right now,” I confessed, “and you are by far the best part of it.” I took his hand in mine. “Let's be honest though: We are not part of the same . . . social . . . anything . . . at Barrington. You've seen what's happened over the past couple weeks; you aren't blind.”

“So what? Dana doesn't like you. I don't like her either.”

“It's worse than that. Trust me. You've worked hard to get where you are and have the friends that you do. And I don't want to ruin that by dragging you down.”

He looked like a genuinely hurt puppy.

“Maybe I ended up where I am so that I could meet you.”

Ahhh, don't make this so hard!

“Chase . . .”

“Nica . . . ,” he mimicked.

Part of me just wanted him to leave. Another part wanted to leave with him.

“None of that matters. I really like you.”

“It's not that simple.”

“It is! I promise! Look, maybe it's dumb, but Mr. Manning has this thing he told me about being in high school. He said that everyone wants to fit in, but really it's more important to stand out. I want to stand out, and I want you to stand out with me. Honestly.”

My head was in a full-on wrestling match, pitting what I wanted against what was right. In the moment, I made a bad choice. I agreed to go to the dance.

And life would never be the same.

It's true: Barrington was basically a corporate-owned police state operating in the guise of a wealthy, idyllic small town. But damn, did their high school know how to throw a party.

I hadn't given much thought to my expectations—a low-lit gym, some streamers, a punch bowl surrounded by the same cookies they offered at lunch—but this was something else. Barrington High was a choreographed dance number away from every American-high-school-movie formal I had watched abroad on bad bootleg DVDs and always assumed were a complete and utter fabrication. The biggest surprise of all? I was actually having fun in spite of my life being in a complete free fall. I felt a little like I was partying aboard the
Titanic
as it was sinking into the frigid North Atlantic waters.

The music was pounding in my chest and Chase was matching me song for song. It was a far cry from Dana's Homecoming bash, where I'd deliberately kept to the margins and tried not to call too much attention to myself. But that night something had taken over me. I was having too much fun to worry about the blisters I knew were growing in my unpracticed heels and the shade Jackson was throwing from his perch against the wall. If my life was going to go down the tubes, I was going to at least have a bit of fun before the end. After the insanity of the past few months, all I wanted to do was smile, amped up on dance-pop fuel and raging teenage hormones until I was ready to drop.

I raged on in blissful ignorance, looking like a grinning idiot spinning under the lights with my arms in the air for another thirty seconds or so before Topher tapped me on the shoulder. I could tell immediately that he wasn't having such a good time.

“We should get going!” He had to shout over the music, and I could still barely hear him.

“Going where?” Chase interrupted.

“Topher just needs an extra set of hands,” I announced. “Be back before you know it.”

And off I went, leaving Chase alone on the dance floor, completely baffled about what just happened.

Topher led me out of the densely packed throng of partiers, and unfortunately, right past Oliver. He didn't notice me though, as he was completely focused on his dancing partner: Noah. Both Topher and I winced as we saw it, and I took the lead, pulling my friend straight past. Topher looked heartbroken, but we had bigger fish to fry.

In keeping with exactly how it would play out in one of those high school movies, the high-octane dance jam faded out into a slow song. The floor cleared out and refilled with couples. Hand in hand, Dana and Jackson made their way to the center. I wasn't expecting the accompanying gut wrench, but I felt it loud and clear. From a distance they were perfect. She was a shimmering angel in his arms, all that lustrous hair tumbling down her back in old-Hollywood waves. Jackson looked every bit the hero to her heroine, dapper and filling out his suit in a way that few high school boys can. But I just didn't buy it anymore. Suddenly their “perfect couple” was like a reality-television construct I could see straight through. Maybe I was projecting, but so much of my intense jealousy had already fallen to the wayside. I could tell that Jackson wasn't happy; he resembled a Ken doll posed into position with a stuck-on plastic smile. I turned away to follow Topher and felt a distinct change in my longing. Instead of wanting Jackson, I was just sad for him.

Topher and I snuck out of the dance and climbed the stairs to the second floor, moving deep into the English department and about as far away from the gym as we could get. He lifted a gigantic set of keys from his pocket.

“Lifted them off the janitor,” he admitted with a sense of glee. “My biggest crime to date.”

I followed him inside with a grin. “Stick with me, kid. I'm a terrible influence.”

We'd chosen the remote department lounge in advance, both for its lack of windows and its comfortable couch.

We settled into position, Topher's laptop set up with the view of Antarctica open in front of us. We'd blazed through a quick mental refresher and everything was set. Everything, I noticed, except for locking the door. I bounded across the room to lock us in from the inside—only to have it fly open almost right into my face.

I was expecting all of Ski Club, so Chase's handsome face was a surprise. At least until I read it as decidedly unhappy.

“An extra set of hands, huh?” He stared daggers at Topher.

“It's not what you think. I promise,” Topher declared, not getting up.

I pushed Chase out into the hall. “Go back downstairs. It's a long story and I can tell you later, but the sooner you leave, the sooner I can come back.”

“You're kidding, right? I'm just supposed to be cool with you upstairs alone with this guy? Nica . . .” Chase was staring me down but he looked so worried. It was sweet enough to soften my edge.

“How about a compromise? You stay out here and watch the door.”

He didn't love it, but he didn't throw it back in my face either.

“Do you trust me?” I asked.

He nodded, if slowly.

“Okay. Then I'll see you in about twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes?”

I closed and quickly locked the door behind me, making sure Chase couldn't just barge in while Topher and I were in the middle of things.

“Is he going to be a problem?” Topher looked just as worried as Chase did.

“I don't think so. Let's do this.”

“Now or never,” he echoed as I settled back onto the couch.

We each took another minute to stare into the computer and look over my mom's coordinating snapshots. Topher wrapped his fingers around mine when he was ready.

I felt the bone-chilling cold the moment I opened my eyes . . . and immediately shut them again. It took a while for my brain to really process it. I knew I wasn't physically cold. My body was more than eight thousand miles away in centrally heated suburban Colorado, but the strain of that distance was like the coldest slap of wind chill I'd ever felt against my face.

I squinted to see what I could make out. It was stupendously bright—brighter than any natural light I'd ever experienced. Antarctica's summer sun glared down with all of the intensity of the Sahara but none of the heat. Unfortunately, all it did was light up the thick snowstorm, simultaneously coming down from the sky and whipping across the frozen tundra horizontally. Perhaps worst of all was the deafening roar. I couldn't really feel the wind, but I could hear it loud and clear. I felt like I'd been dropped into the middle of a punk-rock show.

“Topher?” I couldn't even hear the sound of my own voice. I tugged on his hand in mine, worried. “Topher!”

As soon as he looked back at me, I knew the clock was ticking. “Let's go,” he said. “We're not going to have a lot of time.”

But as soon as he said it, we both realized,
Let's go where?
It was just shades of white in every direction. Snow blindness. The reflection of sun off snow was so intense that “direction” became meaningless. I pointed in one direction. Topher nodded, and he and I stumbled ahead. With every step I prayed and hoped that I might find my mother at the end of the world.

With every haggard step, all I found myself thinking about was
The Little Mermaid
. Not the Disney film with the catchy tunes and fairy-tale romance, but the childhood-scarring Hans Christian Andersen version, where she disintegrates into sea foam at the end. When original-recipe Ariel was given human legs, every step felt like daggers. The picture book had left me in tears for days, but this was even worse. Now I was living it.

After a few fruitless minutes wandering in endless whiteness, I started to second-guess the whole mission. The very reason I hadn't been able to reach Lydia by phone was the inclement weather. How could I have thought I'd be able to beat that directly immersed in the elements?

I could see that Topher was ready to accept defeat. “I think we should go back. I haven't felt this sick since my first time. Nica?”

I couldn't even answer him. I was feeling it, too. Worse than the brief excursion Topher and I had taken in Barrington a few days earlier. I felt light-headed, dizzy, and extremely desperate. Almost claustrophobic in that expanse of whiteness, which felt confining and scary. This was my plan A. I didn't have a plan B to fall back on.

“Nica? This was a bad idea!” Topher shouted. “We can't see anything.”

I agreed and was nearly ready to throw in the towel when I saw something. It was a faint splash of color on the ground, poking through the frozen white landscape. I crouched down to get a better look, hoping that it wasn't just a subzero mirage. The yellow was coated in ice and dirt and snow, but it was real. I smiled when I realized exactly what it was.

“Topher!” I pointed, and he squatted down for a second opinion. “It's a guide rope.”

Topher nodded his confirmation. “They put them out here in case people get trapped in a storm. If we follow it, we might be able to get to the base.”

The clock was ticking away. I knew Topher was ready to turn back, but I was prepared to beg. “Please. Just a few more minutes.”

Without a word, he nodded and took off after the narrow trail of yellow. The pain I felt in every muscle and joint—most likely the sensation of stretching our astral tethers to their very metaphysical limits—was just as intense, but now hope was driving each and every step.

I was only about five feet away when a building came into view. Even through the veil of bright white, I recognized the McMurdo Base Station immediately. I had made it. There was still one more obstacle. The door.

“We're going to have to go right through it,” said Topher, pointing at it.

I nodded and recalled how his astral hand had slipped through the staircase railing just the other day. We rested both hands against the door.

“Just remind yourself we're not really here,” Topher reiterated. “We have no mass. The rules of physics do not apply.”

I was amazed to see his hand and arm push mine straight through the door. He was actually talking himself into it. Topher then reached back for my hand and pulled me through with him.

Once inside the station, it hit me that I still had no idea how to find my mom. We knew from the satellite images that all of the buildings were simply designed for the utmost longevity in Antarctica's extreme conditions. Luckily, in my case, simple also meant gridded. It was only two hallways before I found Lydia's name on a door plaque.

My mother just about died of a heart attack on the spot when she opened the door. “Nica? How did you . . . ? Who . . . ?” She couldn't finish her thoughts, and as she slumped against the doorframe, Topher and I moved inside and shut the door.

“Mom, look at me,” I commanded, trying to get her past the initial shock of seeing me appear out of nowhere. She turned with a hand to her head, like she was afraid her brain might slide out if she didn't hold it in.

“I can't explain this to you now, but you need to look at me and understand this is real. This isn't a dream. This isn't a hallucination. This is an emergency.”

“H-how . . .” Lydia couldn't put two words together, she was so overcome.

“I'm in danger. Dad is in danger. Barrington's not the place everyone thinks it is. Bar Tech owns it, and they are experimenting on kids. They've been doing it for a long time. The world needs to know what's going on here.” I might have been only two cinnamon-roll side buns away from R2-D2's projected Princess Leia, but I had never seen my mother react so seriously.

“I need you home, Mom. More than ever.” I knew this was all a shock to her system, but I had to make her understand the enormity of what was happening back home.

Lydia's eyes finally began to focus. She nodded, processing everything I had just said. In a matter of seconds I watched a fierce, protective lioness emerge from behind my mother's damp eyelashes. Ever the journalist, I knew she had a million questions she wanted answers to, but time was of the essence.

“I can't explain right now,” I continued, “but it has to do with Bar Tech. Just come home. Now.”

“I'll be there as soon as I can. I love you, Nica.”

That was all I needed to hear to give me strength. The trip was over, and seconds later we were back in the teachers' lounge. This time I wasn't so lucky with the nausea. Topher recovered a little faster, though my stomach's reaction was no help to his.

“What now?” Topher asked.

I was still a little spacey. I couldn't believe I'd finally made it to all seven continents, even if that last one required a large asterisk.

“We get Maya. Lie as low as possible for the next couple days until my mom gets here. Hope Dana leaves us alone if we do.”

When we stepped back out into the hallway, I was surprised to see it completely empty. Where was Chase? I supposed it was possible he'd taken a quick bathroom break, but it sent a shiver of apprehension down my spine.