The Other Morgan (Parallel Series, Book 5) Page 13

  Despair settled over me like a thick and poisonous fog, and I curled up on Falcon’s bed, wishing with all my heart that I could just wake up from this unspeakable nightmare.

  “We only had a few water bottles,” he said as he came into the room. “But you can refill them in the bathroom sink.”

  I didn’t respond, but heard Amy take the bottles from Falcon.

  “I’ll put them in the closet,” she said.

  “I found some power bars and crackers and stuff,” he said. “I’ll put those in the closet too.”

  “Thanks,” Amy said.

  He stood there a moment. “Well, I guess I should get going. I’m off at six, but I take the bus, so I won’t be home until seven.”

  A moment later, he was gone.

  I lay on the bed for a long time, eventually falling asleep.

  “Wake up, Morgan,” Amy whispered in my ear as she shook me. “Wake up!”

  “What?”

  “Someone’s in the apartment.”

  Her words brought me fully awake and I scrambled off the bed and into the closet with Amy right behind me. We softly closed the door and crawled into a back corner. “Who is it?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I heard the front door.”

  “It’s probably just Falcon’s brother.”

  “I know. But what if he comes into Falcon’s room?”

  “Falcon said he won’t.”

  “But what if he does?”

  She had a point. We knew nothing about Dylan—not even what he looked like. For all we knew, he searched Falcon’s room whenever Falcon was at work. “We’ll just stay in here until he gets home from work.” I tried to see Amy’s face in the darkness. “Do you know what time it is?”

  “Last time I checked it was three-thirty.”

  I’d slept several hours, but didn’t feel at all rested. Instead I felt groggy. “Falcon won’t be home for hours.” Already the closet walls seemed to be closing in on me—even though I couldn’t even see them in the darkness.

  We sat together, completely silent, as the minutes ticked by. As boredom began to overtake me, my eyelids drooped, but when I heard Falcon’s bedroom door swing open, my eyes snapped open.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Are you sure he’s not in here?” a male voice asked, mere feet from where I hid.

  “No, Dad,” a voice that sounded very much like Falcon’s responded. “I told you, he’s at work.”

  That must be Dylan. My heart slammed against my ribs. Thank goodness Amy and I hid in the closet. The thought of Dylan and his father discovering me sent my pulse skyrocketing. I had no idea how they felt about Enforcers and F.A.T. centers. And I had no desire to find out.

  Amy’s hand slipped into mine and I calmed ever so slightly. At least I’m not alone.

  “When will he be home?” the man—Dylan and Falcon’s father—asked.

  “I’m not sure. Not for a while.”

  “I haven’t heard from him in well over a month.” The man sighed audibly. “Is he still upset with me?”

  Dylan laughed. “When has he not been upset with you?”

  The man chuckled. “Right.”

  “Look, you and I are on the same page, but he’s more like Mom.” Dylan paused. “Well, like she was.”

  “I know. Two peas in a pod.”

  “What are you doing in town anyway?”

  The bed creaked as if someone had sat on it.

  “As you can imagine,” the man said, “things have been a little intense at work lately.”

  Dylan laughed. “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

  “The boss told me to get personally involved.”

  “Put the pressure on locally, huh?”

  “That’s right.” The man paused. “I decided to take advantage of the opportunity and see if I could see Jacob. Try to talk some sense into him. Make sure he’s not involved with the wrong people.”

  Dylan chuckled. “Good luck with that.”

  They were quiet for a moment.

  “How are things with you, Dylan? Are you still dating that cute news girl?”

  “Yeah. Cami’s great.”

  The bed creaked and it sounded like whomever had been sitting had stood.

  “You know,” the man said, the volume of his voice growing quieter as if they were leaving the room. “I’m a little concerned about that boss of hers.”

  “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

  I couldn’t hear the man’s reply. Instead I heard the soft click of Falcon’s door closing.

  It took several minutes for my heart rate to return to normal.

  “No one ever goes in his room, huh?” Amy whispered.

  My eyes had adjusted to the dark by then, and with the light from the bedroom seeping under the closet door, I could make out Amy’s face. “I know.”

  “I don’t want to stay here, Morgan.” She frowned. “I don’t feel safe.”

  Nowhere feels safe. Nowhere. “I don’t know where else we can go. I don’t know what else we can do.” Tears of frustration sprang into my eyes and my voice shook as I spoke. “I can’t live like this.”

  “Me neither.” Amy sniffled. “I want to go home, Morgan,” her voice became ragged as she began to cry. “I want Mom and Dad. I . . . I even want Zac and Brandon.”

  I pulled her against me and let her sob, silently cursing DM for what she’d done to our family. Our entire family was now suffering because of her. Fury boiled within me and I wanted to scream, but I held it in. Then a terrifying thought filled my head.

  Maybe I should turn myself in. Just get it over with—no more hiding, no more living on the edge while waiting to be captured. Then hope and pray that public opinion will sway my way and the Enforcers will let me go. Depend on Nick and his people to persuade everyone that F.A.T. centers are wrong and live on the hope that they’ll be closed down.

  But as I listened to Amy quietly sobbing against my shoulder, I knew I couldn’t do it. That was only something DM could do. I was too much of a coward. I knew it—I wasn’t even afraid to admit it. It was the truth, and it was the only thing keeping me on the run.

  “When can we go home, Morgan?” Amy whispered calmly, her tears under control.

  “We can go home when it’s safe. When we know the Enforcers will leave us alone.”

  She didn’t ask any other questions after that and eventually she lay on the floor and fell asleep.

  Hours later, when I heard Falcon’s bedroom door open, I froze, afraid it was Dylan and his father again, and that this time they’d find us. Amy was still asleep and I decided not to wake her—why scare her? But when the closet door began to swing inward, I gasped, then pressed my hand against my mouth to stifle the scream that wanted to escape.

  “It’s just me,” Falcon said softly.

  My breath came out in a rush and my shoulders drooped in relief.

  “How are you, Raven? How’s Hummingbird?” He gazed at us. “Do you want to come out?”

  I pushed myself up and faced him. “What about your brother?”

  “He just left.”

  My heart still beat in an irregular pattern, but I nodded, then woke Amy and told her Falcon was back. She stretched, then the two of us walked out of the closet.

  “I got something,” Falcon said as he held up a plastic bag.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  He grinned, like he’d come up with a brilliant idea. “A knob that locks. For my bedroom door.” His grin widened. “No one can get in without the key.”

  As much as I liked the idea, I wondered how hard it would be to break down the flimsy bedroom door. Then again, why would someone do that unless they knew I was in the room? “What about your brother? Won’t he wonder why you’re locking your door now?”

  “He knows I like my privacy. He’ll respect that.”

  “You had a visitor today,” Amy said with a frown.

  “What?” Falcon’s gaze went from her face to mine.

  “Yeah,” I said. “We heard
your brother come home so we hid in the closet, but then he and your father came in your room looking for you.”

  Falcon’s eyes widened and his eyebrows rose. “My father? Are you sure it was my father?”

  “Well, your brother called him Dad, so . . .”

  “Oh.” Falcon went to the bedroom window and pulled aside the curtain as if he expected his father to be standing on the sidewalk below.

  “It was hours ago,” I said.

  He let the curtain drop back into place, then turned to face me. “I’m really sorry, Raven. I didn’t know he was in town.”

  I shrugged, already over the idea of his father being in his room. The new knob he was going to install seemed like a decent deterrent to unexpected visitors. Half an hour later he’d finished installing the new doorknob, and when he turned the lock, I allowed myself to enjoy the illusion of security.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “This is good,” I said as I shoveled the baked chicken into my mouth. “You’re a decent cook.”

  Falcon smiled, but it seemed sad. “Thanks. I’ve been cooking my own meals for a long time.”

  The three of us were sitting on a blanket in Falcon’s room. Kind of like a picnic—minus the sunny day and happy memories. Dylan was still out, so Falcon had managed to prepare dinner for himself as well as Amy and me, and I’d been hungry.

  “As much as I appreciate all you’re doing for us,” I said, then wiped my mouth with a napkin. “We can’t live in your room forever.”

  “I know,” he said.

  Amy quietly ate her meal without glaring at Falcon once.

  “Have you figured out what you’re going to do?” he asked me as if I was full of bright ideas, but I had zero ideas—not even an iota of one.

  Well, there was the idea of turning myself in, but I held that in reserve, afraid to even suggest it out loud. What if Amy and Falcon jumped on it like it was the actual solution to all of our problems? Then I might have to actually go through with it.

  “Not really,” I said, embarrassed, because if I was Duplicate Morgan, by now I would have created a list of options from which we could mull over and select the best one. And still have a decent Plan B.

  Thinking of Plan B made me think of Phase Two, Nick’s grand plan from the day before to make me a distraction so that he could do something else. Most likely something important. Had he succeeded? What had he been doing while I was being chased by Enforcers? Would it help me?

  “You look like you just thought of something,” Falcon said, his eyes steady on me.

  Amy lifted her gaze from her plate to look at me, probably eager to know my brilliant plan.

  “No,” I said with a tiny shake of my head. “I wish though.” The questions I had about Phase Two were ones I could only discuss with Amy. I only trusted Falcon with the most basic information. I couldn’t tell him about Nick or that Nick had some other mission he’d been carrying out. That information could be dangerous—not only to Nick, but to anyone who knew anything about it.

  Amy’s lips pressed together and her gaze lowered to her plate. Falcon frowned.

  “Do you have any ideas?” I asked them, tired of the expectation that I was the only one who could come up with anything useful.

  “Morgan—” Amy began, but Falcon cut her off.

  “You have to call her Raven.” His voice had an urgency that took me by surprise. “Never say her real name. Never.”

  “Okay.” She sounded embarrassed, like she should have known better, but obviously didn’t appreciate having her mistake pointed out. Especially by Falcon.

  Why is he getting all worked up over Amy saying my name? It’s just the three of us in his room. It’s not like anyone’s listening.

  “Raven,” Amy said, giving Falcon a sidelong glance before looking at me.

  I smiled at her. “Yes, Hummingbird?”

  A tiny smile quirked up one side of her mouth. “I think you should tell us what you did before. You know, after you escaped the first time.”

  I felt Falcon’s gaze on me, though I studiously ignored him. “Why is that important? This is so completely different.” At least I assumed it was.

  “Not really,” she said. “I mean, after you escaped, weren’t the Enforcers after you then? How did you get away? How did you stay hidden?”

  DM hadn’t told me any of that in her letter, although I did think of one thing. “I, uh . . . I found some people who took me in, but then remember that I went back into Camp Willowmoss to help you.” I grimaced. “So I never really succeeded in, you know, getting the Enforcers to forget about me.”

  “But you were in hiding for weeks,” she said. “Maybe we can go there for a while.” She glanced at Falcon. “Then we won’t have to hide in a closet.”

  “Where did you go?” Falcon asked, looking directly at me.

  I looked from Falcon’s face to Amy’s and back to Falcon’s, not sure how to get out of this without sounding like I’d lost my mind. “I don’t know where they are—the people who took me in.” I tried to laugh it off. “You know I have zero sense of direction.”

  Amy sighed.

  “Maybe we could retrace your steps,” Falcon said, a hopeful expression on his face.

  “Why?” I asked with a smile. “Are you getting tired of having us here already?”

  He didn’t smile back, instead he just stared at me, as if deep in thought.

  “Falcon?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he said, then he picked up his plate and stood. “Are you done eating?”

  “Yeah.”

  He gathered our plates and left the room.

  I closed the door behind him, then turned to Amy. “Remember how I told you that Nick was using me as a distraction?”

  She nodded.

  “I was just thinking about that and I wonder if there’s a way we can find out what he was doing. Maybe whatever he was doing could help us.”

  “Maybe. But how can we find out? We don’t know how to get to Nick’s house.” She frowned. “Besides, we don’t even know if it’s safe there.”

  “What about that reporter?” I asked. “She said she would want to talk to me again. Maybe she could help us.”

  Amy perked up. “Good idea.”

  I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea, but it was better than nothing. I hoped. “Okay. So maybe tomorrow we can contact her and see if she’s still interested in talking to me. I don’t want to go all the way there for no reason.”

  Falcon walked in.

  “We came up with an idea,” I said.

  He sat on the floor near me. “What is it?”

  Momentarily distracted by having him so close, I blinked a few times. “Uh, I thought I could call that reporter. Jessica Walker?”

  “Why?”

  Flustered that he didn’t immediately agree that it was a fantastic idea, I hesitated.

  “She might be able to help us,” Amy said.

  “How?” Falcon asked. “What can she do against the Enforcers?”

  “She can change people’s minds,” I said. “Or maybe give me the chance to change people’s minds.”

  “I don’t like it,” he said. “It’s risky.”

  Exasperated, I sighed loudly. “Do you have a better idea?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Okay. What is it?”

  “I saw all of those videos you made,” he said. “You should make more of those.”

  “Okay, sure. Let’s just call a team of camera people and get filming.”

  Falcon laughed at my attempt at sarcasm. “Why do you think we need a team? Why can’t we do it?”

  “I guess we could.”

  “We can record it with my phone, then I can upload it.”

  “But won’t the Enforcers be able to figure out where you uploaded it from? Wouldn’t that lead them right to us?” The thought sent a blast of terror through my body.

  Falcon smiled. “I guess you forgot that I’m pretty good with computers. I can go
somewhere with public wifi and then use a VPN. The Enforcers will only ever see the IP address the VPN shows. Even if they’re able to figure out where I was when I uploaded the video, I’ll be long gone by the time they show up.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about, but he seemed pretty confident about it, so I nodded and smiled. “Okay.”

  “Cool.” He smiled, obviously pleased that I liked his plan. “When do you want to make the video?”

  “I need some time to think about what I want to say, so not tonight.”

  “I work in the morning, so what about doing it when I get home?”

  “That works.”

  “Great.” He smiled. “I know you’ll come up with something compelling that will change everyone’s mind.”

  Though I wasn’t so sure, I appreciated his confidence in me, and found his optimism contagious. That night I slept well, comforted to know we were going to take some action.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Before Falcon left for work, he made sure Amy and I had enough food to get us through the day.

  “Dylan already left,” he said, “and he won’t be home until five or six, so you guys can use the shower and make yourselves at home.”

  I had no intention of being out of his room any more than necessary, but it was nice to know we could at least get cleaned up. “When will you be home?”

  “Around three. So we should have plenty of time to make the video before Dylan comes home.”

  “Okay. I’ll make sure I know what I want to say by then.”

  He left a few minutes later and Amy and I were on our own.

  “Do you want me to shower first?” she asked.

  Though I’d ventured into Falcon’s bathroom a few times, leaving his room still made me nervous. “Sure.”

  She picked up one of the towels Falcon had left for us. “Even though we don’t have clean clothes to put on, it will feel good to shower.”

  I nodded, then watched her leave. A short time later it was my turn. I hurried to the bathroom and locked the door behind me, then showered as quickly as I could. As I dried myself off, my gaze drifted to the scale in the corner of the bathroom. It was identical to the one we had at home—retinal scanner and all.