Read The Gryphon Project Online
Authors: Carrie Mac
“Where are your parents?”
“They took Neko to a psychiatrist in Brampton.” Nadia dug her spoon into the carton, aiming for the ripple of fudge.
“On a Saturday?”
“No.” Nadia talked through a mouthful. “His appointment is Monday morning. But they’re worried he’ll stay out all night again or do something crazy, so they took him early.” She swallowed. “They promised him a day at the go-cart track. Like he’s six.”
“A psychiatrist?”
“You know my parents.” Nadia nudged the carton toward Phee. “They don’t give a crap unless we slit our wrists or lock ourselves in our room and starve to death. They think Neko is screwed up because of Gryph’s death being …” Nadia let her words trail into silence.
Phee said it for her. “Permanent.”
“Yeah.” Nadia nodded. “And Saul disappearing.”
“But they think you’re okay? Even though he’s your boyfriend?” Phee clutched her spoon tightly in her fist, giving over to the pain of it digging into her palm instead of giving in to the urge to tell Nadia about Saul. Part of her argued that if the tables were turned, she’d want Nadia to tell her the truth. But the larger, more convincing part of her reminded her that she was not Nadia, and that Nadia was a very different person. Someone for whom denial truly worked wonders. Someone for whom truth was not as valuable or all that questioned in the first place. Nadia was not like Phee. Not in the least. She didn’t need answers and explanations nearly as badly as Phee did.
“Oh no, they think I’m totally screwed up too,” Nadia went on. “But in their funny math, him seeing a friend die is worse than my missing boyfriend, so he goes first. Even though Gryph was my friend too.” She glanced at Phee. “Sorry—I mean, Gryph
is
my friend too.”
“It’s okay,” Phee said. “I know what you mean.”
“Anyway,” Nadia said with a sad sigh, “I have to go on Tuesday, but I convinced them I wouldn’t do anything rash in the
meantime. Plus, they said I can go on my own. You can come, if you want.”
“Maybe.”
“You’re lucky your parents aren’t freaks like mine.”
“They’re freaks in their own way, trust me.”
“But like, only teaming up to charge one of us off to a specialist. Like, would it kill them to just sit us all down together and
talk?
Like you guys do.”
Phee nodded. She was thankful for her parents. She’d never envied Nadia hers, with their cool exchanges and schedules carefully designed to avoid each other and their kids wherever possible. Except times like this, when they were more than willing to put on a show and make it look as if they were attentive and involved. When they weren’t. Not really.
THEY TALKED MOSTLY
about Saul and Gryph, of course, with Phee editing herself so much that she finally gave up and let Nadia do most of the talking. She worried that her best friend would be able to read it on her face, or in her body language. That she could tell something was up and that Phoenix was lying. But Nadia was awash in sadness, and couldn’t see past her own misery to inquire much about Phee’s. Normally this would bother Phee, but not tonight. Tonight she was thankful that she didn’t have to lie any more than she already was. They put a movie on, but mostly for an excuse for a couple of hours of silence, and then it was time for Phee to go.
She hugged Nadia hard before leaving. Nadia stood at the door, waving, which made Phee so sad that she almost cried. Nadia had no idea what was going on around her, how her friends were sinking in the quicksand of secrets and deception. Phee prayed she could fix it before it all crumbled and everyone was made to pay for the sins, great and small. Nadia too, for if she wasn’t so narrow-minded about things, Phee could include her in some of the mystery, and there might’ve been some hope that she and Saul
could be reunited, if only in his new form. But then Phee couldn’t blame her. She wasn’t even sure she knew what she thought about it all. Except that it was illegal. And dangerous. And ultimately fascinating.
Marlin was waiting for her on the same bench near the station. Phee couldn’t believe that it had been only hours earlier that she’d said goodbye; it felt as though days had passed since then. She sat beside him, and neither of them said anything for a while. Then he spoke, his face shadowed in the glow cast from the street lamp. He looked worried.
“Where’d they take Neko?”
He’d obviously seen Nadia and Neko’s parents leave with him. “ To see some shrink.”
“When’s he coming back?”
“I don’t know. Tomorrow, I guess.”
“Tomorrow or not? Don’t you know?”
“No! Let it go, already.”
“Why do they think he needs a shrink?” He emphasized the word
they
as if he had his own idea about why Neko would need a psychiatrist.
“Why do you think?” Phee gawked at him. “One of his friends is dead, another one has disappeared, and he’s keeping some big fat secrets that are eating him alive.”
“And Nadia and Neko’s parents only know how to shuffle their kids off to some quack.”
“Exactly.”
“Has he talked to you?”
“A little.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing. Like the rest of you guys.”
“And Nadia?” Marlin asked. “How’s she holding up?”
“She’s next for the shrink. Her appointment is Tuesday.”
“God, Nadia. I miss her.” Marlin dropped his head in his hands with a heavy sigh. “I miss her so much.”
“Then tell her the truth.”
“She’d never understand.”
“She might not. But she might come around.”
“I can’t force her to make that kind of decision. What if she decided to tell on me? And even if she didn’t tell, I can’t put her at that kind of risk. And what would be the point? I can’t hang around forever, Phee. I’d have been long gone by now if it weren’t for having to sort out this mess with Gryph.”
“How
are
you going to sort it out?” Phee asked. “If none of the guys know about you?”
“I have a plan,” he said. “But I don’t want to use it. I’m hoping the guys come up with something on their own. Something better.”
“Better than what?”
Marlin stared at her.
“Never mind,” Phee said. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“Not yet.”
Phee changed the subject instead of beating the dead horse a little more. “Where will you go? When it’s over?”
“To be with my parents.”
“They’re changed too? Like you?” She thought back to the message she’d listened to on his phone. The woman’s voice.
“It’s happening now. We can’t wait for you.”
“That was my mom,” Marlin explained when Phee told him about the message.
“That’s why you couldn’t meet me. You had to go be … what? What do you call it?”
Marlin shrugged. “Reconned, I guess.”
“But you didn’t die.”
“No.”
“Do you have the same DNA?”
Marlin shook his head.
“But how not?”
“You don’t need to know that. Not right now anyway.” Marlin stood. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” Phee followed him as he strode toward the station.
“I’m going to show you something Gryph wanted you to see.”
“Then why didn’t he show me himself?”
“He didn’t get a chance.”
“Or he didn’t want to.”
“He wanted you to know about it.” Marlin stopped in his tracks. “You especially. In case.”
“In case of what?”
“In case anything happened to you.”
“What are you going to show me?” Anxious excitement rode up her spine, making her shiver. But Marlin didn’t answer, so she just followed him, hoping she could handle whatever was coming next.
THEY GOT OFF
the train one station before the stop for the Balmoral. This too was still part of the fish-packing district, but the far edge of it. Beyond the last street lay the abandoned freeway, and beyond that reclaimed parkland, and beyond that, the two-per settlement nearest to the city. It was common knowledge that the area between this edge of the city and the two-per settlement was rife with criminal activity. Phee hesitated.
“I’m not going in there.” She pointed at the vast darkness that stretched out beyond the chain-link fence topped with barbed wire.
Marlin gave her a friendly shove toward the fence. “Oh come on, you’re chicken all of a sudden?”
“You
are
Saul, aren’t you?” Phee muttered.
“I told you not to use that name, Phee.” His tone sharpened. “I meant it. You keep doing that and I can’t see you again. Understood?”
Phee nodded. “Got it.”
“Good.” Marlin slowed down to let her catch up after gawking nervously at the thick brush on the other side of the fence. “And just so you know, we’re not going over the fence. Not tonight, anyway.”
“Fine,” Phee said. “And just so you know, I’m not chicken.”
HE LED HER
, in what seemed a very circuitous route, on a good half-hour trek between squat warehouses and rambling factories, all reeking of rotting fish. He paused only once, to toss something into a garbage can on a dark corner, where the street light had burned out or broken. Finally, he stopped in front of yet another long, sprawling warehouse. Standing derelict on the roof was a large billboard once meant for drivers on the freeway to see as they passed:
CAPTAIN MURPHY’S FAMOUS FISH STICKS
, starring a cartoon fisherman—Captain Murphy, presumably—with an anchor tattoo and a net slung over his shoulder greeting the commuters of days gone by with a corny grin.
“What is this place?”
“Home, sort of. For now, anyway.” Marlin rapped on the door. It opened a crack, and then wider. A woman peered out, eyes squinting with suspicion. Classical music wafted from a room illuminated at the end of the dark corridor behind her. Mozart—Phee recognized the melody. Oscar’s favourite.
“Who’s she?”
“The one I told you about.”
“Of course, of course.” She smiled and opened the door wide. “Come in, come in. I’m Polly. You’re Phoenix, right? Gryphon’s little sister?”
Before Phee could ask her how she knew Gryph, Marlin broke in with “I haven’t explained things yet.”
“Hi.” Phee let the woman shake her hand before turning eyes full of questions to Marlin. “And will you?”
“I will.” Marlin put a comforting hand on her shoulder and steered her down the hall after the woman. “After Polly makes us a cup of tea. She won’t let us do anything before that.”
Phee lowered her voice. “Is she your mom? Reconned?”
“No, no.” Marlin laughed. “Polly is just Polly.”
The warehouse was a labyrinth of hallways and rooms. It quickly became apparent that it was a laboratory of sorts, although it was damp and smelled vaguely fishy. She caught a glimpse into one of the rooms that opened off the hall. Inside were several capsules like the stasis ones at Chrysalis. She could see only the one nearest her well enough to recognize that it
was
a Chrysalis capsule. It had the logo on the side, and a number stamped into the metal, like the one Gryph was being kept in.
“This is an illegal recon lab, isn’t it?”
“Bingo,” Marlin said lightly.
“Be serious,” Phee said. “How’d you get the capsules?”
“Chrysalis was finished with them,” he said with a shrug. “Funny thing happened on the way to the scrap metal factory.”
“I
said
be serious!”
“Why?” Marlin gestured around him. “Isn’t this all serious enough for you as it is?”
“I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t even know this place exists.” She turned angry eyes to Marlin. “Why did you bring me here? What if I have to do a lie detector test for Chrysalis?”
“Why would you?” Marlin asked. “You weren’t there.”
“But what if I have to take one anyway?”
“Look, you wanted to know what’s been going on. Well, this is what’s been going on.”
Confused, Phee asked, “What do you mean?”
“This is where Gryph was coming to when he left the Shores at night. And when he spent the night at my place.”
“Here?” Phee had imagined all kinds of things: the skate parks all to themselves, stupid double-dog dares, general boy mischief, even long dull hours of bottomless coffee at the diner. But not this.
Marlin nodded. “When I told him about my recon, he wanted to see this place.”
“He didn’t freak out?”
“Not at all,” Marlin said.
“Not even for a second?”
“No. He said he was raised right. That Oscar and Eva brought up kids who knew better than to judge.”
All of a sudden Phee felt tremendously guilty for ever having thought less of Saul—Marlin—because of his status. And the day at the no-per zone, how she’d judged all those people for who they were.
“He wanted to show you this place. He wanted you to know that you had an option, if you ever needed it.”
“I still have one recon.”
“And after that?”
“I don’t know,” Phee replied. “Hopefully there won’t be an ‘after that.’”
“Well, if there ever is, you know that it doesn’t have to be final.”
“It is for Gryph. It is for anyone who ends up at Chrysalis. You can’t help him. And you wouldn’t be able to help me.”
“Well, not if you died suddenly, maybe. But if you knew you were going to die, like from cancer or something. If you knew enough in advance.”
“ To come here?” Phee asked, amazed. “ To let some underground, filthy lab recon me? Of my own volition?”
“We do good work at these labs,” Marlin said evenly. “Gryph thought you would understand.”
“I’m trying to,” Phee said. “But you have to admit it’s all a lot to take in all at once.”
“Well, Gryph trusts you. And I can tell you that he wanted you to know about this place. Especially because it’s his fault that you only have one recon left.”
“When were you guys going to tell me?”
“I don’t know.”
“You told Gryph over a year ago.”
“Yes. Not long after the X Games, I guess.”
“But not me.”
“I’m telling you now.”
“Only because Gryph is dead.”
“And because I have to go away.”
“Where?”
“Better if you don’t know.”
“Why can’t you tell me?” Phee felt a sudden panic. Saul, in this new form, felt like the last tenuous connection to Gryph. If he went away, she’d be that much more alone.