He sucked in a breath. “And who exactly am I speaking with? Over.”
I jabbed Sparky in the arm. “Sparky,” he shouted. “You’re speaking with Sparky. Over.”
“Right, then, Sparky, tell Phoenix you’re clear for the raid. The safe house in the Suburban Islands will host you. Be nice to Gwendolyn for us, won’t you? Over.”
“Roger that,” said Sparky. “Over.”
“That’s all from the Caravan, then.” Vern paused for a second. I could still hear him breathing on the other end of the line. “And Sparky?”
“Yes, Captain?”
“Tell Phoenix I expect him to honor our promise.”
My chest felt tight, my head dizzy, and sweat gathered on my forehead.
“And what’s that, sir?” asked Sparky.
“Just give him the message. Vern and the Caravan signing off. Over.”
The speaker buzzed as the radio searched for a signal. Sparky turned to me. “You know what he promised?”
I shrugged. But inside, the weight of Phoenix’s promise hung heavy on my shoulders. No, not my shoulders—my neck. Phoenix’s promise hung around my neck like a noose. It was hard to breathe when I thought about it. I reminded myself again of my mission. My own promise to myself to find Mom and save Charlie.
If Phoenix thought he’d kill me, I’d make sure he died first.
Chapter 25
Charlie stood at the edge of her bed with a rope wrapped around her neck. Its soft white coils caressed her throat’s flesh, beckoning her to step forward. Just a little step. Her arms dangled at her sides, and she prayed Sage would soon come. Her stomach snarled; the food they’d given her had been spoiled and putrid. When she touched her cheeks, she could feel the hollows that had formed.
Here, alone, she’d had a lot of time to think the past few days. She thought mostly about her home and the other kids back at H.E.A.L.
Claire’s front tooth had been loose for a week the morning she left with Kai. “I’m sellin’ this for a grapefruit,” Claire had declared, flicking the tooth between two fingers. Charlie tried to explain you couldn’t sell a tooth for grapefruit, but Claire didn’t listen. She said her mom told her lemons were pieces of the sun, and that if you ate one, it warmed you from the inside out. Charlie asked why she’d wanted a grapefruit, then.
Claire shook her head. “If lemons are pieces of the sun,” she said, “then I think, maybe, grapefruit are pieces of the sun’s heart. They’re yellow, too. And bigger. And pink on the inside.” Claire said that if she had a piece of the sun’s heart, she could give it back to him—and in exchange, he could give her a piece of her own heart back.
Charlie asked which piece, and Claire said her mom.
Charlie remembered the days when she’d wished for her own mom—actually, she still did. But time had smoothed the gaping hole left by her mother’s euthanization.
She thought about Kai, too. The boy who could hold his breath for nearly three minutes yet still insisted on wearing a pair of cheeseburger socks to feel brave. She missed his caramel brown eyes, warm like cocoa, not the cold Indigo blue irises of adults. She missed the way he played with her chopsticks, and his hands got sweaty when he talked to her. The way he tried to wipe them off on his pants and probably thought she didn’t notice. The way he looked at her and listened, like everything she said was important. Most people just couldn’t listen like that.
There was a hard rap on the door, and Charlie shut her eyes tight, wondering if she should let her tongue hang out. She’d never seen a corpse before, and thought their tongues might hang out.
The slot slid open.
“Bed checks!” Sage called. Charlie breathed a sigh of relief.
“Bed checks!” she called again. Charlie stood silent. It was all part of the plan. The door swung open with a screech, and Sage walked over to her bed. You okay? she mouthed.
“I’m fine,” Charlie whispered.
“I NEED A BODY BAG FOR CELL SIXTEEN,” Sage shouted. “WE’VE GOT A PRISONER HANGING FROM THE RAFTERS.”
Heavy footsteps echoed in the hall, and Sage’s arms wrapped around Charlie’s legs. “I’ve gotcha,” she whispered, and Charlie stepped off the bed as the rope’s pressure tightened on her throat, held off only by Sage’s arms lifting her slightly from below.
It had to be done this way. Her face had to look a bit purple. The guards wouldn’t believe it otherwise. Eddie, a guard with a bad knee and a birthmark on his face shaped like a turtle, wheezed outside the doorway. He held his knee in one hand, and a body bag in the other. “Jesus,” he said, cracking it open. “Already? I thought this one had more fight in her.”
Sage shook her head. “The pretty ones always go fastest. Like flowers, the bigger the blossom, the sooner it wilts… You got the scissors, Ed?”
He shook his head, and Charlie heard his footsteps trudge slowly down the hall. What was the rush, after all? She was already dead, and he was paid by the hour. She made a sputtering sound, and Sage lifted her a bit higher in the air. Sage was stronger than Charlie would’ve guessed.
The drag of Eddie’s footsteps echoed in the hall as he returned. Charlie heard him fiddle with the rope above her. It snapped when he cut it, and she fell onto Sage, knocking them both to the floor. She bit her lip to keep from panting, but her lungs screamed for more oxygen.
Sage stood quickly, grabbed the body bag, and threw it over her. “To the furnace?” she asked Eddie.
“Nah, computer says this one goes to the mortician.”
“Right, then. I’ll bag her and bring her down there.”
Eddie moved toward Charlie. “I’ll help,” he said. “Nothin’ better to do, ’cept maybe get my yogurt from the fridge. The missus made it for me.”
Sage wrapped Charlie’s torso in the bag. “Really, I’ve got it,” she said. “I can drag her down just fine on my own. Besides, I heard Rhonda’s been eating other people’s stuff from the fridge. Might wanna check on your yogurt.” Eddie hurried down the hall.
“You okay?” Sage whispered to Charlie.
“F-fine.” Charlie sucked in a series of breaths. “Th-throat just hurts. Hard to breathe.”
“That’s understandable.”
“W-where do we head now?”
Sage pointed to the bag. “Lay down here, and I’ll drag you.”
“You’re taking me to the mortician?
“No, the garbage chute. There’s a column that runs along the edge of the building. It’ll take us to the first floor. Then we’ll get out.”
Sage wrapped Charlie up in the bag, then dragged the bag down the hall, past the desk, and into the corridor. She hurried across the tiled floors before reaching the room with the chute. After exchanging a few words with a custodian dumping bags of trash, she was left alone with Charlie and the body bag.
Charlie peeled herself from the bag, and Sage pointed to the chute. “You go first,” she said, tearing the bag into two pieces. “Take one of these. It’ll help break your fall.”
“Uh… how, exactly?”
“It’s a straight drop. If you hold the bag above your head, it’ll flutter and help slow your fall.”
Charlie peered down the black chute. “Is it high enough for that to matter?”
“Dunno,” said Sage, shrugging. “Didn’t take physics. Just sounds like something they might do on TV.”
Charlie took one of the strips and peered into the chute’s black abyss once again. “Should I aim or something? Maybe try and move once I land?”
“Good idea,” said Sage, nodding. “Probably wouldn’t work out so well if I hit you when I fell.”
Charlie stuck her feet into the chute’s opening and straddled the edge for a second. She breathed deeply and grabbed the edge of Sage’s torn bag.