Grounded

Chapter 29

Chapter 29

"Jeremiah, if anything should ever happen to me, do you promise to take care of my father?"

He grits his teeth. "You know I will."

I gather my hair, refastening my ponytail and pulling it tight. "We've got to do something. We can't remain prisoners here forever."

My father glances at the lamp. We've been so very careful about who's listening or watching.

"I don't care," I say. "I'm sick of all of it. Prepare yourselves." I stand and walk toward the door. It's locked, of course.

"Lydia?" my father asks.

"Prepare," I whisper again.

Jeremiah nods and helps my father from the room.

Instead of trying to unlock the door, I place my hands on the nearby wall. I can sense wires behind the paint, like a regular person might feel a pulse beneath skin. I trace the wires to a square of energy inside the wall to my right. If my theory is correct, this is the source that powers the lock. I use my fingernail to mark the paint over my target.

My father and Jeremiah return with shoes and sweaters on.

Shoulders squared, I face my mark. With a deep breath and a snap of my arm, I draw the power into my hands. The air around me glows blue and a hum, like an engine roaring to life, comes from the general vicinity of my heart. I hurl my power at my target, into the box behind the wall, a lightning bolt that I cut off from myself, just in case.

Not only does the door open, but a smoking hole appears in the wall. The lights blink on and off. I shouldn't be surprised when the sirens start, but I jump at the noise. Jeremiah and my father stare at me with wide eyes, waiting for my direction. I can't let them down.

"We won't have long," I say. "Go, quickly. Left. To the stairwell. Hug the south wall." The wail of the siren builds to a deafening pitch.

Jeremiah helps my father out the door. I bolt past them to the place where I've felt Korwin's presence. I pray he's still there. I blow another hole in the wall and kick in the door.

The room is nothing like the apartment I've come from. It's a one-room prison. Korwin lies face down on a cot, one arm hanging limply off the side, wearing nothing but thin white pajama bottoms.

"Korwin?" I rush to him and shake his shoulder. He's ashen, like a corpse. I shake him again, harder, and roll him onto his back.

His eyes flutter open. "Drained," he mumbles. The telltale remnants of circular wire attachments are all over his body.

"What have they done to you?"

He doesn't answer but stares at me with dead eyes from under hooded lids.

"I'm going to juice you. We've got to go. It isn't safe." I cup his face and my blue glow bathes him in light. As I lower my lips to his, the draw I've felt to Korwin from the very beginning takes hold. My energy flows into him freely, in one direction at first, but then just as Maxwell explained, the flip comes and the power between us morphs into something else, dividing and multiplying. He is empty, so it takes some time before the power returns to me. But when it does, it almost knocks me off the bed. Our cells feed each other, revolving faster and faster. Atoms in a perpetual dance of motion heat the air around us. Energy pours out and in until my muscles twitch and the paint on the wall behind Korwin begins to peel and singe.

Korwin breaks the connection and scrambles to his feet. He paces for a moment, getting his bearings.

"Better?" I ask.