River: A Novel (21 page)

 Slowly
walking down the hallway, I thought about when Danny had kissed me. Confusion
was the only word that came to mind. He wasn’t terrible at it—I just hadn’t
really
felt
anything. Guilt made another appearance. I once again shook
my head and made myself switch gears to a mental list of things to get ready
before tomorrow. Compartmentalizing my thoughts was what I did best these days,
in addition to procrastinating difficult decisions. At least I wasn’t
panicking. Yet.

 The
elevator doors opened as I began mentally ticking off dry foods I could pilfer
from the apartment. I would take as much extra for others that I could fit
inside my dance bags. If I entered the theater with luggage, there would probably
be suspicion. I nodded absently toward the elevator operator. Without looking
his way, I stiffened upon entering the claustrophobic little box. It was also
the slowest elevator in existence, this realm or any other. 

 The lift clambered
leisurely downward. It felt like there was no movement at all. I was deep in
planning mode, toiletries this time, when an arm came out of nowhere. The
operator slammed me against the elevator wall so hard that it knocked the wind
out of me.

 A low voice
snarled, “Who do you work for?” Suddenly, my body was numb, especially my head.
What did he mean?

 He thumped me
against the back of the elevator again. This did not improve the oxygen flow to
my brain. 

 “I know you
can talk. Spit it out. You have two seconds.”

 I tried to
move my head, but it was locked in his vice-like grip. All I could see was a
stubbled neck; his face was bent toward the side of my head, his mouth an inch
from my ear. My senses were on overload as spots flecked my vision. I was going
to pass out in
one
second if he didn’t loosen his hold on my windpipe. As
terrified as I was, there was no way I was going to say anything. I hoped
desperately that I hadn’t made any sounds when he’d thrown me against the wall.
As I’d become accustomed to clamping my teeth down whenever I had the urge to
make any kind of noise, the blood in my mouth told me no. I unclenched my hands
and tried to get the Speaker’s arm off me. I didn’t know how he’d found me out,
but there was no way I was squealing on Dan.

 His arms
immobile and my defenses feeble, I cursed my short nails before being overcome
by black spots.

..................

Oh, God
.
This is it. I am being tortured
. 

 Even if
they tore off my puny fingernails, it still wouldn’t be enough to make me talk,
forcing them to move on to more painful strategies. Every single torture scene
from my spy-show episodes flooded through my brain en masse. Were they going to
ask me which finger I wanted them to cut off first? Was there a protocol to that?
Was the pinky finger the way to go… maybe the ring finger? I should have paid
better attention.

 Actually, I
wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, physically anyway. I was fairly sure I was in a
recliner, or maybe a chair with an ottoman. There were cushions on it, soft and
billowy; opposite of the steel dentist chair I had always imagined for a time
like this. The Speakers must not care if blood decorated the furniture. Maybe
they were like the mob and were going to befriend me before I was whacked. Well,
they could pull whatever tricks they wanted. I wasn’t caving.

 Just as I was
about to open my eyes and let my attackers know I was alert, footsteps entered
the room.

 “Why did
you bring her here?” A woman’s voice asked.

 “What did you
want me to do? Leave her in the elevator for Steven to deal with? This was the
only option. No surprises, especially tonight.” It was the man from the elevator,
I was sure. His deep tenor was harsh and gravelly—even in a near whisper.

 With the impression
of being surrounded, it was torture
not
to open my eyes and survey my
captors. I figured playing possum was as good a plan as any. Two against one,
and with his muscle, I had no chance. Plus, I was certain my feet were somehow
tied to the ottoman. My hands itched to figure out how much lee-way I had, but
dared not at the moment. If they were tied, it wasn’t very tight, and I wasn’t
hurting, except for the anticipation of pain. 

 The woman
began to speak, though I didn’t understand what she was saying. It sounded like
the same words over and over. She was chanting something.

 Where was I?

 Unable to
stand it any longer, I barely cracked open an eye. The light was very dim,
almost non-existent. The man was closer to me than I thought, and I held my
breath. We were probably in a basement—that was Capture and Torture 101. There
was also a perfume in the air. Normally, I couldn’t stand perfumes of any kind,
but this smelled… good. Like musk and real lavender. I had never thought about
a torturer being a woman—maybe she wouldn’t hurt me. Or, maybe it was going to
be psychological torture. To that thought, my eyes opened wide on their own
accord. The room had cement walls, yet looked cozy. The light was so faint that
I couldn’t make out their faces. My glasses were missing. I really couldn’t see
well without them, and this fact would be especially dangerous if I attempted
to run for it. 

 The woman Speaker
was closest to me, still chanting in a different language. She held up one hand
with what looked like a beaded chain. Just when my eyes wandered to where the
man stood, I had to put my head back and close them; I almost heard them
snapping shut. The lavender perfume was making me feel drunk. Suddenly, I was
too tired to even try to hold my head up. I just had to rest for a minute,
gather my strength, and then I would get away. The words the woman spoke had a
primitive beauty to them, something tribal. I was falling asleep during a
torture session? This was a new one… never happened in my spy stories….

 I was at
the street fair again, and I was still running. The hand that had been tightly holding
mine disappeared. Already expecting this, I followed a path through crowded
streets to the man with the cards. I didn’t even look at him as I grabbed the
deck and picked out three. I already knew the first one was a deep black cave. The
second card had eluded me the first time.  It was glowing again… I dropped it. Burning
my hand, the card had become hotter than fire.

 I felt my
body jolt upward, and then I was gone.

 The parking
lot was colder than ever. I dashed away from the brick house with the boarded
up windows at lightning speed, faster than I had ever moved. The chain link fence
before my eyes toppled. I paused, stumbled over it, and peered dizzily past the
edge of the cliff into a giant quarry. Someone was at the bottom.

 The beeping
sound was getting louder. I started to move to turn off the alarm. If I could
just move my arm, I could turn it off and go back to sleep. I couldn’t believe
it was time to get up.

 My eyes
opened to a brighter room than the one I remembered. My mind cleared, and I was
wearing my glasses. I sat up straight and looked around.

 There was
no normal light source. There were only candles, the long tapered kind. There
wasn’t much furniture, but there were tables covered with books and jars.
Books?
The Speakers read, of course. Anger made me flush. My parents had abandoned me
when I was days old, but I didn’t hate them for it. They must have had their
reasons. The Speakers, on the other hand, hate wasn’t strong enough for how I
felt about them. The room may have been more luminous, but the cast shadows elongated
dramatically. Their flickering set me on edge.

 “Sorry if I
hurt you.”

 I jumped
and looked to my left. The gruff voice was coming from one of the corners, the
darkest one.

 “I thought
you were an enemy. Still not sure about that, but Gwen seems pretty convinced,”
the shade continued conversationally, if a bit condescending.

 His
features were clearing up as my eyes adjusted. I was able to distinguish between
the midnight-tar of the surrounding shadow and the dark gray of his skin. His
hair and clothes were lost in the gloom. I was afraid to look away, in case
this was some kind of tactic the Speaker was going to use to get me on his side.
Or finally start up with the real torture when I wouldn’t talk. With no
intention of allowing him to break me, I did have every intention of escaping. Soon.

 “So are
you?” he asked quietly through the murky light, and I didn’t know what to do. My
arms had been freed, and since I wasn’t about to
talk,
playing dumb was
my first inclination; my most natural move to make
.

 Am
I what?

 “The
enemy.”

 With one
hand still in the air, I balked. Did he think I was just another one of his
slaves? Well, then he had another thing coming. I didn’t know what that thing
was, exactly, but it was coming. If nothing else, his whole world was going to
crash down in a matter of hours, and he would have to find someone else to
entertain him. 

 “I can wait
all night for you to say something, Elodie. You just did when we tranced you.”

 
My eyes widened, and I convinced
myself briefly that this wasn’t really happening. It was just a very persuasive
part of a dream, and the scenario was about to change at any moment to a
parking lot and a quarry. It would’ve taken sneaky, evil coercion for me to say
anything. I showed no emotion, but my muscles twitched. He could’ve been
bluffing. I played dumb possum again.

 Staring him
down had no perceptible effect, until he laughed at me. 

 “Seriously,
you gave us your whole life story not fifteen minutes ago. It was a little
confusing at first. You were signing and talking at the same time. And your words
and signs didn’t match up. It was very interesting.” I could’ve sworn his eyes
narrowed.

 Responding
by crossing my arms, I was immediately skeptical. Barely able to sign when
coherent, it would have been impossible if I were knocked out. My eyes left the
Speaker and I scowled. Staring straight ahead, I remembered my little signing overtures
while sleepwalking. I couldn’t prove to myself that the Speaker wasn’t right.
It seemed that I had signed and possibly spoken my own death warrant.

 “We don’t
have to hurt you, Elodie. I just need to make sure that you aren’t a threat. If
I determine you don’t work for them—we’ll keep you safe.”

 
Weird
,
I thought. He was telling me the Speakers wanted to keep me safe?
They must
want
information—they
must have spies lurking around
. I
thought of the man outside Dan’s window. If the Speakers had found out about
the rebellion, I had to warn Danny. I tried to think of anything incriminating
that I could have done to give us away. It was a long list. Number one: being a
complete fraud.

 He was
still staring at me. With cool indifference, I secretly searched the room till
a possible exit materialized. It was directly behind him, of course. I needed
to get him to move.

 My hands
trembled when I signed,
Water?
  

 “There’s a pitcher
right next to you.”

  I waited
two heartbeats and peered behind me, to my right. There it was. Feeling like an
idiot, I shakily poured a glass and took a fake sip, of course, anticipating
poison.

 “It’s not
drugged. And neither of us is going anywhere.”

  Jeez, had
they hooked me up to some kind of thought-reading machine? I blushed and took a
real drink. The notion that I truly sucked at undercover ran through my head. I’d
probably just poisoned myself or ingested some kind of liquid tracking device. They
could now let me escape, following me back to Danny and the rebel headquarters.
Bastards
.

 “So, I must
say, your story was very intriguing; what little I understood. Gwen is better
at translating people entranced than me. You are somewhat of a mystery.” He
paused. Though I could hardly see his features, I thought he was smiling. “I
can see why Dan is protecting you.”

 I sat up
straighter. He had found my weakness. If he knew Dan was behind the anti-Lull
serum and the rebellion—I would do what I had to do. I would kill, or at least
try to maim, to keep Danny out of danger.

 “Dan is on
our side, I believe. I just need to make sure you are as well. But you don’t
have to really be on our side, Elodie, to keep yourself safe. You just cannot
be on theirs.” He sat, folding his shadowed hands in front of him. “If you
don’t mind, I would like to hear more about this ‘New York’ place you come
from.”

My mouth was
bleeding again. I wasn’t sure if I had bitten the inside of my cheek, but the tangy,
coppery taste was evidence. What the hell was going on? Had they captured Danny
and compelled him into revealing everything he knew? Was Dan working for the
Speakers and lying to me? My theories spun out of control as I sat, frozen.

 “It sounds…
like a fantasy land. The freedom and all those people living at will. It could
be a very believable pipedream. I’m not altogether convinced of this reality
you’ve come up with, but Gwen is—and quite charmed by you. She’s doing a
reading right now to prove her impulses correct.” The Speaker’s silhouette
appeared to be a little patronizing. “Again, I’ll need a bit more information.”