Awakened: Book One of the Mind Agents series

Awakened: Book One of the Mind Agents series, Chapter 22

Chris paces three steps in his room, pivots, and then walks back, his hands balled into white-knuckled fists. Three steps, pivot, then back.

The clock radio says 4:38 a.m.

The events of recent days play over in his mind and stir a fire inside him. He's vulnerable in this place—they all are.

He plays through likely scenarios: the terrorist gets them in the cafeteria, when they go outside, or at night when they're asleep. He could be casing the joint right now.

Three steps, pivot, then back.

Their suggestion to double the guard makes him huff. Jewel and the doctor are always asking him to calm down. He imagines palm-striking them in the nose, one after the other.

Who are these people telling me to calm down? It's my life on the line here, not theirs.

Do they even know what happened to Maya? Are they going to be able to save her? They don't even seem to be concerned about it.

Jack's move on Maya sears into him like a third-degree burn. He wonders if he's somehow at fault for playing along.

The thought creeps into his mind that he's afraid. He shakes his head, rejecting it immediately. Afraid of what they're doing to him and the others at this place. Afraid that they might all be doing something dangerous with their brains, something they might not be able to recover from. He keeps shaking his head, like an animal lurching over and over at its cage with the same motion, locked into an insane, repetitive behavior. Three steps, pivot, then back. There's no other way to fight against an impossible trap.

Fight. That's what I have to do.

They can't protect him anymore. They can't protect any of them anymore. He'll have to protect them. He needs to bust out of this place. He needs to lead the others to somewhere safer, somewhere more secure.

The earbuds pound a heavy-metal mix into his auditory nerve. He thrusts his fist in the air in time with the shouting and drum-banging.

So much emotion is rippling through him that he feels like he can't contain it.

He thinks of his family back home, his older brother who never thought he would amount to anything. Look at him now—working in a top-secret government compound. They might even be training him to be a secret government agent with mind-control powers.

What do you say to that, Danny?

His parents would be proud. They didn't hesitate when the agents came to their house and asked to take Chris away with them to a "special school." They believe with a blind faith in the goodwill of the American government. They're second generation. Their parents, all four of them, came from Korea. They started businesses here, and then sent their kids to college here. They all believe in one thing: anything can happen in America.

They were proud of him then, when he only had straight A's, swim-team trophies, a Tae Kwan Do semifinal championship. What would they say now? He'll come home the favorite son.

If Chris were part of a team that stopped a dangerous terrorist, he would be more than a hero. His family would celebrate him on a new, unknowable plain. Everybody would. All the guys in the dojo would cheer. The high school would hold an assembly. They'd post newspaper clippings all over the neighborhood.

But what if he was the one who got hurt? What if he was the one on that operating table right now? They'd feel be betrayed. Everything his family holds dear would turn to dust. The artifice of patriotism would tear away and all they'd have is a stark, painful lie.