I look around at this huge observation room. It is tempting. There’s something about the order here that appeals to me. I would be a step ahead of everything. I could get control in a way that’s simply not possible in ordinary life.
“What about my mom? And Mouse and India?” I try to imagine them up here. Mouse would like it, but I don’t think my mom and India would.
Sparky shakes his neatly-clipped head. “You can only make this decision for yourself, Finn.”
“I’d never see them again?”
“Too many factors are out of our control to safely determine that.”
“No, then?”
“I can’t say, Finn. I can gather information, but I don’t have a crystal ball.”
I nod.
“So what is your decision, Finn Tompkins?”
“I want to stay with my family.”
He sighs and puckers his lip up like a little kid. “I was afraid you’d say that. I hate to have to do this to you, buddy,” he mutters.
“Do what?” I ask.
“There’s no other way.” He squints at me, hesitates for a moment, and then pushes the down key on the keyboard.
A second later I hear a popping sound, like metal rivets being driven somewhere below me. And suddenly the circle of carpet I’m standing on gives way and I’m sucked down into darkness, the wind roaring in my ears.
CHAPTER 14
THE HEART FACTOR
When I open my eyes, everything aches. Nothing like being dropped from the top of the building, then run over a few times. That’s not what happened, but it’s what it felt like. My body was traveling so fast in that dark chute that when I slammed down onto the road, it hurt like you can’t believe.
I liked Sparky too. Why did he have to push that stupid button? I sure wouldn’t want to do that to anyone.
I’m on a narrow street now—an alley full of shops, one jammed against the next. Each shop has a table in front full of dusty signs taped to the tablecloths and propped up around the table skirts. There don’t seem to be any customers, just shopkeepers and birds. Buzzards, blue jays, crows, canaries, even a parrot white as coconut cake—the birds are everywhere.
I don’t know what the shops are selling. I can’t read the signs through my thumping headache. It feels like the loudest music in the world is playing in my head, but I can only feel the vibration it makes. I can’t hear the sound.
Just moving triggers little waves in my eyes. But after a few minutes of sitting perfectly still, my vision clears and I focus on the signs. Relive Your Moment. Return to the Home of Your Dreams. Photos, memories, videos, mementos of your day. Relive Your Day. Return to Euphoria.
Trying to figure out what they’re talking about has distracted me from the pain. I’m just wondering if I can stand up, when I see Mouse. She’s piled in a heap at the bottom of another tube a half block away.
“Mouse!” I’m all the way up now, standing in one sudden motion. My vision has gone wobbly again and I feel sick to my stomach. Sharp stabbing pains shoot through my head behind my eyes.
I get to the curb and it all comes up. The apple pie, the French fries, the Philly cheese steak sandwich—all of it in a lumpy, gumpy mess.
“Finn!” Mouse calls. “Are you okay?”
I wipe my mouth on my sleeve and start forward again, my eyes trained on my little sister’s wild red hair. Throwing up has made me feel better and so has seeing Mouse. In a burst of adrenaline, I make it down the alley to her.
“Are you okay, Mouse?” I ask.
“My arm hurts. Bing says it’s broken.”
“Uh-oh, we need to get help.”
“You found out how to get home, didn’t you, Finn, didn’t you? I want to go home to our real house.”
I’m not sure she totally understood we were leaving our old home for good, but now doesn’t seem like the time to explain it to her.
“First, we have to find India,” Mouse rattles on.
“You haven’t seen her?”
She shakes her head. “Then we need to put the wood pieces together, like Mr. Chuck said,” Mouse fills in.
“That’s right, then Chuck comes and he gives us our clocks and we have to find a dog and a black box in a certain amount of time,” I tell her.
“Like a game?” Mouse asks.
“Like a game . . . a really important game,” I say. “I’m going to go talk to those other shopkeepers down the road. One of them might be able to help.”
Mouse shakes her head. “Skye said not to.”
“Skye? Who’s Skye.”
“She’s a girl. She was here before. She said don’t trust them. She told Bing she heard people talking about India. They want her.” Mouse’s voice is wistful, one arm tucked against her shirt, like a hurt wing. “You know how pretty she is.”