Always/Never

Chapter 23 / Running

The longer I sat there, the more my stress increased, my chest rising and falling like I was running. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea if Han arrested me.

At least I'd be safe away from Parkland, and the machine, and anything that I would have to flee from. Behind bars, I wouldn't have to worry about any of it.

I paced in loops.

I wasn't used to running.

Though having Han understand me would have been nice, I needed to get out of here. I knew what I was capable of with my ability. I knew exactly what someone else could do with it, and the safest plan now was to disappear.

No more ammunition. No giving Parkland any other reasons to hate me.

A thud by the door interrupted my thoughts. Assuming it was one, or both, cops returning, I circled to my seat. Another bump, and I stiffened. It felt wrong to open the door of my own investigation room, but I peered out at the empty hallway, anyway.

Until I looked down and found Rory's robot sitting there. My stomach somersaulted.

She chirped at me, rolled inside, and knocked into my shin like a cat head-butting for affection. I kneeled as her arm extended, an automatic motion every time the sensors found someone. I snorted and bumped my fist against it.

With another, more insistent beep, the robot began to move.

I poked my head out of the room. At the other end of the hallway, Han and her cop partner spoke in hushed tones. If they turned even an inch, they'd see me.

The robot, who I'd called Silver, rolled near the baseboard, tracing a straight path that was a mere breath away from Han and her partner. I kept pace with her until we'd passed the two sets of doors before the floor opened up to a row of desks, each carrying more than one monitor.

At the corner, Silver stopped. To my right, the baseboard dropped away to the desks. Officers crowded the rows. On the other side, the exit door, marked by a glass entrance door which marked my freedom.

Han's partner turned. I pressed my body against the wall, pinpricks firing in my lower back. Sure, I could leave anytime, technically, but I was one edited clip away from getting handcuffed, and if they saw me I didn't doubt they'd express disapproval. And if the robot was here, it meant so was Rory.

I took in a breath, checked to make sure he couldn't see me, and inched out into the clearing. My fingers tightened around Han's phone.

I have a theory.

Typing out a sequence of numbers, I called into the ether. The connection crackled like a live wire. My lips pinched.

"Hello, Parkland," I whispered, because nobody else was going to answer Accha's phone from seven years in the future. Not when it was dead. "Hope you enjoyed that show."

He said nothing. He didn't have to. The lack of alarms was indicative. He was telling me he had me. The computer screens flickered around me in unison, and a buzz loud enough to fill my veins echoed.

I doubted anyone else heard it.

I'd become attuned, over time, to the noise.

To the minute letters across every screen that burned in with words. Better luck next time. See how easy you're making this? I'll be so kind and call this off if you stop. All flashes on the monitors like dozens of eyes. Watching me. Commandeering.

He could have me in handcuffs. He wasn't being coy.

Still, I ran. Faster than ever before.

The robot sped forward. I rushed to keep pace with her, so she didn't crash into the door, and as soon as my fingers brushed the handle, all of the air in my lungs collapsed inward.