STARSCAPE BOOKS(23)

Who are they?

Bowdler had a photo from the bank video. That’s the sort of thing the FBI would have. But the FBI doesn’t kidnap citizens and fake their deaths. I think I’d heard someone call him “Major,” once. The lab didn’t look like it belonged to the army. But Bowdler’s haircut, and the way he moved, made me think of a soldier. Whatever organization he belonged to, I’d probably never heard of it. Maybe nobody had heard of it.

There was only one place I’d find any answers. It was the last place I wanted to go, but I had no choice. I didn’t know where my parents were. I didn’t know who I could trust. And I was afraid it wasn’t safe to get in touch with any of my friends. I had to go back to the lab. But I’d be far from paralyzed this time. And if Bowdler crossed my path, I wouldn’t be the one who’d be helpless.

The thought of all he had done to me collided in my mind with all the things I could do to him. The fury of the images made my heart race. Nobody messes with my family.

I filled a backpack with some clothes, my toothbrush, and a couple paperbacks. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be away. I slipped my MP3 player into my pants pocket. I didn’t take my good one, but I had a cheap shuffle-play one that was pretty rugged. My parents usually kept cash in the bedroom. It was weird how I felt a twinge of guilt when I opened Mom’s jewelry box and lifted out the top compartment. I found about seven hundred dollars in the bottom, which I jammed in my pocket.

I didn’t bother with the cereal since I knew I could get a good breakfast in Philly.

When I peeked out the front window to get a better look at whoever was parked there, I saw the car had a different guy in it. This guy was definitely bigger than the guy I’d spotted last night. He barely fit behind the wheel. So Bowdler had more manpower. Which meant more bad news for me.

A yellow bus rolled past the house. Even through the closed window, I could hear the kids singing a song. Lucky them. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to fear. On their way to a camp or something.

I slipped out the back and cut through a neighbor’s yard. When I got near the train station, my paranoia started to kick into high gear. Last night, the car had just pulled up across from my house when I was half a block away. Maybe other people had been sent to look for me, too, and they’d just missed me at the station. That might mean there was someone there now, waiting for me to get off a train. The boarding platforms were up a flight of stairs. I bought a ticket from a vending machine at the bottom of the steps, then moved up just high enough so I could check across the tracks where the trains from Philly stopped.

I spotted a guy in a dark-blue suit, with buzz-cut hair, sitting on a bench, staring down the tracks toward Philly. Maybe he was waiting for the train. Or maybe he was waiting for me. As the approaching train blasted its whistle, he glanced at something he held cupped in his right hand. My picture? I moved back down the steps and waited. The train from Philly arrived. When it left, I checked again. The guy was still sitting there.

At least there wasn’t anybody on my side of the tracks. Nobody was looking for me to sneak back into Philly. They were all trying to catch me sneaking away. I kept out of sight and waited until my train pulled up, then dashed onto it and rode back to 30th St. Station.

It was late morning when I reached Philly. There were more men in suits watching the departures. I hunkered down and stayed in the middle of the crowd leaving the station. After I crossed the street, I ducked into the first alley I came to, made sure nobody was watching, and floated my backpack up to a rooftop so I wouldn’t have to carry it with me all day. I kept one paperback, because I had a feeling I’d need to kill some time.

I backtracked until I found the block where the lab was. I watched the lab’s door from the corner for a while before going to the coffee shop across the street. I grabbed a seat near the window and ordered breakfast. Pancakes and hot chocolate. My brain runs well on sugar.

While I waited for my food, I thought about how I’d eaten so many meals alone in the cafeteria at Edgeview, an outcast among a whole school of outcasts, until Martin had become my friend. He’d probably never understand how much he’d done for me. I hoped I could do something for him some day.

I stared out the window. Still no activity at the house. I knew I’d gotten there too late to see them come in. But I figured they might go out at lunchtime. I ordered a bowl of chili so I’d have an excuse to stay in the coffee shop, then lingered over it while I read my book. The lunchtime crowd started to filter in. I ordered a burger.

Around twelve-thirty, the waitress gave me one of those order-something-or-get-moving looks. I knew that if I ordered more food, I’d end up so bloated I wouldn’t be able to walk. I guess I knew two other things. With me on the run, there was probably no reason for those lab guys to be there. So, assuming Bowdler was out looking for me, the building was empty. The other thing I knew was that I didn’t want to go back inside the place where I’d been kept prisoner and treated like a lab rat.