“Uh-oh,” says Louisa. “I know that look. It was the look she had just before she made me walk across an ironing board.”
But I’m deep into remembering the story now, especially the part about how when the soldiers came to rescue Helen, they got into the city of Troy by hiding inside a giant horse. I glance over to the protein bars on the table.
Suddenly, I know exactly how we’re going to get into the Phoenix Center.
I
run across the dulled wood floor directly to my mother. My friends are right behind me.
“What is it, Maddie?” my mother asks. She’s staring at a blueprint of the Harold Washington Library, which is now the Phoenix School.
“Even the bad guys have to eat!” I blurt.
My mother looks at me strangely for a second, then places her hand on my forehead to feel for a fever.
“Mom, I’m not sick! I have a plan!” I take a deep breath and explain. “The Phoenix School gets its food — the drugged stuff for the students and the clean stuff for the teachers — from NutriCorp.”
“NutriCorp!” says Ryan. “The world’s foremost suppliers of tofu chili and Cheezy-Wizard!”
“A delivery truck arrives every day at three o’clock,” I tell my mother, recalling what Jonah had said about his unloading chore. “All we have to do is get ahold of the truck on its way to the school. Then we take all the food out of the boxes, and our
soldiers
can get inside the boxes instead. We can dress some other soldiers as the deliverymen. They’ll carry the soldiers into the building totally unnoticed.”
My mother is beaming with pride. “Maddie … that’s brilliant.” Her smile fades slightly. “But there’s one problem. They already have a plan in place for our arrival. It will definitely be in our favor to attack from inside instead of approaching from the perimeter, but there’s still a chance that even if we catch them unawares, they’ll be prepared enough to fight back.”
“Not if they’re in lockdown,” I say triumphantly.
“Lockdown,” echoes Wren. “Ivan included information about the lockdown process on the flash drive.”
“That’s because they take it very seriously,” I say. “They have tons of drills, practicing the procedure. If a
lockdown alarm sounds, every individual in the school — students
and
teachers —
must
report immediately to their assigned stations. The students gather in an auditorium on the lower level, with senior scouts to oversee them. The teachers and administrators gather in this place called the Chicago Authors Room on the seventh floor. They won’t have time to collect weapons or anything before they report there. And once they’re all inside, the doors and windows are wired to lock automatically.”
“Wow,” says Drew, with a wry grin. “That’s perfect. They’ll be trapping themselves!”
“Right!” I say. “And
that’s
when the soldiers will burst out of the NutriCorp boxes and capture them all at once.”
“Wait a minute,” says Evelyn. “Who’s going to sound the lockdown alarm?”
“Someone who knows all the ins and outs of the school. Someone,” I say, throwing my shoulders back. “Like me.”
It takes ten solid minutes of arguing, reasoning, and insisting before my mom finally agrees to let me go back
to the Phoenix Center. She doesn’t like the idea all that much, but she understands that it’s the only way this plan will work.
A regiment of Resistance soldiers will be hidden in boxes and metal drum containers to be delivered to the Phoenix School. I will be entering the school the same way, but my role in this mission is to exit my box first, and sound the alarm.
My mother, Wren, and I are poring over the library blueprints. My friends are looking on, enthralled.
“There,” I say, pointing to a room on the plan. “That’s where the alarm is activated. The Superior’s office.”
“Miss Castle,” says Louisa distastefully.
“The lady with the killer pinkie,” grumbles Ryan.
“If I can get into that office, all I have to do is pull the alarm and the whole faculty go straight to the Chicago Authors Room. Once they’re locked inside, I can alert the soldiers in the boxes and they can do the rest.”
I do my best not to sound scared, but I will admit
that I am thoroughly terrified. The fires in the boiler room, the cadets keeping their eyes on you, the wicked faculty — not exactly the kinds of things anyone in their right mind would choose to relive.
The Madeleine Frye who got on the bus to CMS would have never dreamed of such a thing.
But I have to do it. Not only for the good of the country but also for all the kids who are still being held there.
“A soldier is never sent into enemy territory alone,” my mother says.
Wren nods. “Maddie, you’re going to need a partner, someone to have your back.”
The words are barely out of her mouth, but six hands have already shot into the air.
If there’s one thing we’ve learned on this journey, it’s that all of my friends have qualities or skills that would make them useful in this situation. In a perfect world, we could all go, because what really makes our abilities worthwhile is how they all work together.
But this is definitely not a perfect world, so I find myself having to choose.
My gut instinct is to choose Louisa. She’s been with me through everything from losing my first tooth to breaking into my own apartment. But there’s a risk. She was at the Phoenix School for my rescue, as were Ryan, Evelyn, and Rosie. It’s possible that one of the scouts will recognize them.
There’s a risk that I’ll be recognized, too, but Evelyn’s already come up with an idea for that.
I consider taking Drew, but I know how hard it’s going to be to drag myself away from my mom now that I’ve found her, so I don’t really want to ask him to leave his.
“Alonso,” I say. “I pick Alonso.” He’s quick-thinking, and brave.
Everyone opens their mouths at once, and I’m prepared for a huge argument. But Wren defuses the situation by announcing that there will be plenty of responsibilities for all of them here at Command Central.
“Now,” says Wren. “You must all choose your Resistance code names. It will be easier for you to communicate this way during the mission. They should be short and easy to remember.” She gives us a moment to think, then walks down the line, pointing to each of us in turn as we call out our chosen code names.
“Water Bug,” says Louisa.
“Chowhound,” says Ryan.
“Conspirator,” says Evelyn.
“Fly Boy,” says Alonso. “No, wait. Dictionary Dude.”
“I’m gonna go with Little Prez,” says Drew, and his mom rolls her eyes.
“Hermanita,”
says Rosie.
Now it’s my turn. “I think I’ll keep the code name I’ve always had,” I say. “Sparrow.”
“Excellent,” says President Kim.
“All of you go have some food,” my mother instructs. “You’re soldiers now and you have to keep up your strength.”
Ryan gives us a look. “Told ya.” Then he hurries off
to help himself to another protein bar and some dehydrated fruit rations.
But I’m not hungry.
After all, I’m going back to the Phoenix School. And that would kill anyone’s appetite.
It’s two thirty and my mother has dispatched a unit to take over the NutriCorp truck, which has been spotted entering the city limits by one of her reconnaissance soldiers.
Meanwhile, Louisa, Evelyn, and Rosie get busy on my “makeover.”
I shake my hair out of its signature messy bun and follow them into the nearest ladies’ room.
Desperate times call for desperate haircuts.
So, forty-five minutes later, Louisa, Evelyn, Rosie, and I emerge. My three personal stylists shield me from the boys, in preparation for the unveiling.
“Ta-da!” cries Evelyn.
With great drama, they sweep their arms in my direction and step aside, revealing my new look.
“What do you think?” I ask. The back of my neck feels cold.
Drew, Alonso, and Ryan are staring at me, their mouths hanging open, their eyes round.
“Maddie?” says Alonso. “Is that really you?”
“Your hair …” says Drew.
Louisa holds up a pair of scissors. “I cut it!” she announces proudly.
“Do you like it?” I ruffle the feathery sweep of layers that now frame my face. I have bangs for the first time in my life. “Be honest.”
“Well, sure we like it,” says Ryan. “It’s just so … short!”
“And so …
blond!”
Alonso adds.
“Yeah,” says Drew. “How’d that happen?”
“I dyed it for her,” says Evelyn. “I borrowed some chemicals from those guys.” She motions with her chin toward the soldiers guarding the weapons reserve.
“Chemicals?” Ryan repeats, horrified. “Like … nerve gas?”
“No, you knucklehead,” Rosie says. “We wouldn’t use nerve gas on Maddie’s head! We used hydrogen peroxide. From their medical kit.”
Ryan visibly relaxes at that revelation.
Wren approaches us, carrying a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. “Put these on,” she says. “They’re not prescription. They’re just magnifiers, which we use to read maps and other small printed documents.”
I slip the glasses onto the bridge of my nose, and everything increases in size by about a zillion percent. I wobble slightly on my feet.
“You’ll get used to it in a few minutes,” says Wren. She smiles at Rosie and the others. “You girls did a great job. I would have never recognized her.”
“Let’s hope the same is true for the Alliance,” I say. I’m pretty sure this disguise is foolproof. As far as they know, Madeleine Frye is a curly-haired brunette with 20/20 vision, not a short-haired blonde with eyeglasses.
Now my mother appears to tell us that the soldiers have returned with the truck and the empty NutriCorp
boxes. She smiles at my new appearance. “Cute.” Then she gives me a kiss on the forehead. “Be careful, Sparrow,” she says, with a catch in her voice. “You, too, Alonso. I mean, Dictionary Dude.”
“Good luck,” says President Kim.
The Hornet and President Kim go off to consult with the soldiers who will be posing as deliverymen. Fear swells in me, threatening to steal all my breath. Part of me wants to run after my mom and beg her to order me to stay here, but I don’t.
Doing what you have to do, even when you’re scared to death. That’s what’s called for now.
Wren leads all seven of us out to the NutriCorp truck, which will be our Trojan horse. I can feel my heart pounding double time.
Wren fits Alonso and me with wristband communicators. She gives Alonso a salute, then hugs me and whispers, “Thanks for being such a good friend to my sister.”
I smile, remembering the rocky start Rosie and I had back at CMS. “My pleasure” is all I say.
Wren wishes us luck, then leaves.
“This is so unfair,” says Rosie, folding her arms stubbornly across her chest. “I can’t believe I have to wait here. I mean, I should be going. My sister is a major Resistance operative.”
“So?” Ryan gives her a look. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Maybe military smarts runs in families,” says Rosie. “Maybe courage is hereditary.”
Evelyn rolls her eyes. “Well, if family ties matter so much, wouldn’t you think Drew should be going in? I mean, he’s the Commander in Chief Junior.”
“Oh, please.” Rosie is so agitated she speaks without thinking. “Drew’s way too nice to be part of an attack.”
Drew grins. “You think I’m nice?”
Rosie blushes and turns away.
“I still think we should all be going,” says Louisa, in her calm and peacekeeping way. “I mean, we’ve proven what a great team we are. And I’m going to be so worried about you two.”
“We’re going to be fine,” I promise. “You guys just stay here and keep your fingers crossed.”
The seven of us bunch together in a quick group hug, and then it’s time for Alonso and me to go into our boxes.
“Watch out for Brianna,” Louisa advises as she walks away.
As we climb into our individual boxes, I look at Alonso and I can tell he’s nervous, too. According to the label on my box, I will be entering the new Phoenix facility impersonating a dozen cases of canned green beans. Alonso is posing as a year’s supply of Cheezy-Wizard.
“Interesting,” he says. “I’ve never thought of myself as resembling a can of Cheezy-Wizard before, but I’m willing to give it a try.”
Around us, soldiers are climbing into boxes and oversized metal drum containers. A rush of pure pride fills me as I realize that all of this is happening because of me.
Then I duck into the darkness of the box as a Resistance soldier seals it up, leaving just enough room up top for me to breathe through.
Seconds later I feel a brawny soldier hoist me onto his shoulder and carry me up the truck’s ramp with surprising ease.
While I wait for the engine to rev to life, I am aware of muffled whispers; through the heavy cardboard of my box, though, I can’t tell what’s being said. There is also some scuffling noise and the sound of dragging, along with a few grunts.
“Sparrow to Dictionary Dude,” I say into my wristband communicator. “Come in, Dude.”
“Dictionary Dude, present and accounted for.” It’s a huge relief to hear Alonso’s familiar voice in the darkness.
“See you in the trenches,” I say.
“Or the pantry,” Alonso jokes nervously.
The ride from the Art Institute to the Phoenix School is short and without incident. Then we come to a stop. My stomach tightens. I hear the rear doors of the truck creak open, and then I’m swaying through space in the darkness of the box, riding on the capable shoulder of another undercover Resistance soldier. I can feel him
climbing the stairs, then lowering me carefully to the ground. Through the cardboard, I hear other boxes being placed nearby.
Moments later, the truck is backing out of the loading zone.
Phase One of Operation Special Delivery has gone off without a hitch.
But this was the easy part.
I
pop out of my cardboard container like a life-sized jack-in-the-box.
When the three boxes closest to me all open at the same time, I nearly have a heart attack.
I find myself staring in shock at Louisa, Evelyn, and Rosie. The Cheezy-Wizard box containing Alonso is nowhere in sight.
I gasp, wide-eyed. “What did you guys do?”
“Right before the truck left,” Louisa explains, looking a bit guilty, “we pushed Alonso’s box down the ramp, away from the truck. Then we climbed into boxes ourselves.”
“Do you guys have any idea how dangerous this is?” I demand in a whisper.
“Yes,” says Evelyn. “In fact, I’ve calculated the number of faculty and, given their numeric proportion, the probability that they will notice four new kids is highly likely.” She gives a brave nod. “But I’m okay with that.”
“We’ve got your back,” says Louisa, with a matter-of-fact shrug. “We’re a team.”
Rosie snorts. “I was just in the mood for a battle,” she says, but I know she’s here because she agrees with Louisa.
“It had to be the four of us!” says Evelyn. “That’s how this all started, and that is how it’s going to end.”
Louisa gulps. “Please don’t say ‘end.’ “
“You know what I mean,” says Evelyn.
Since we don’t have time to spare arguing, we creep through the pantry, where several larger boxes filled with soldiers will remain, awaiting our signal.
We make it through the empty kitchen easily enough.
Once we get out of the kitchen and into the halls, though, traffic picks up a bit.
The place is crazed. I suppose this is because the faculty is expecting the Resistance attack to happen sometime later today, and they’re trying to get the students into their rooms and out of the way. This is a good thing for us. The Phoenix School is usually as organized and as regimented as it gets, which would make anyone or anything out of the ordinary (us, for example) stand out. None of us are in the standard-issue Phoenix dress of wearing our names on our jackets, which normally would get us singled out in ten seconds flat. But today this place is kind of a free-for-all. Kids are milling around and we merge into the stream of traffic, remembering to keep our eyes down.
I am nearly numb with dread. If anyone recognizes me — a student, a scout, a supervisor — I can’t even begin to guess what they would do to me as punishment for my escape.
Occasionally, pairs of teachers wander past, checking off lists on their tablets and reminding one another about
the specifics of their counterattack plan. As they pass, I hold my breath and lower my face. Each time, my skin gets a little clammier, my blood a little chillier. There is a faculty member posted at every first-floor window, waiting for the Resistance army’s arrival. They bark orders to the students, but basically, they’re too preoccupied to take notice of us four trespassers.
I hate how well I remember this place as I navigate confidently toward the Superior’s office, which is on the third floor. When we come to a little-used stairwell, I turn in to it. This gives us some much-needed solitude.
Rosie shocks us all by announcing, “I’m going to find Ivan.”
I whirl to face her. “No,” I say firmly. “We should stay together.”
Evelyn and Louisa agree with me, but Rosie won’t budge. “Wren is heartsick,” she explains. “She’s so scared, not knowing if he’s been hurt … or worse. I at least have to try!”
I sigh. I’ve been feeling the same way, not knowing what’s become of Jonah. “You can’t go alone,” I say.
I’m surprised when Evelyn volunteers to join her. Despite what seemed to be a friendly truce between them earlier, they’ve been bickering again and disagreeing over everything. I point this out but Evelyn shakes her head.
“That’s exactly why she needs me,” says Evelyn reasonably. “We think differently. We’ll see both sides of whatever situation we run into.”
“She has a point,” says Louisa.
“Okay,” I say, nodding. “If they’re holding Ivan, I’m guessing it’s in the tunnel, you know … the one we used to escape.”
“How could I forget?” says Rosie.
I make them promise that no matter what they find or don’t find in that tunnel, they will go directly to the pantry when they hear the lockdown alarm. They agree, and are off.
Louisa and I watch them hurry down the stairs. Then we head up the next flight, taking the steps two at a time until we reach the third floor. I open the door quietly and peek out. I remember from my tour that very little
goes on up here; Miss Castle, the Supervisor, likes things quiet when she’s not teaching self-defense.
Confident that no one is around, we burst out of the stairwell onto the third floor. A quick sprint to our right takes us to the library meeting room that serves as the Superior’s office.
This time it’s Louisa who peeks in to see if anyone’s lurking inside. She gives me a nod and we go in.
It’s a pretty typical-looking office, with file cabinets and a laptop computer, and some phony teaching diplomas and credentials framed on the wall. On the desk sits a heavy-duty aluminum-sided briefcase. I can only imagine what Miss Castle keeps in there. Certainly not her knitting needles.
The far wall of the room is draped with a huge banner stretching from one side of the room to the other depicting the Phoenix Center emblem and motto. Seeing it makes me a little queasy.
“Where’s the lockdown alarm?” asks Louisa, anxiously surveying the walls for a fire-alarm-type mechanism.
“I don’t know exactly,” I confess. “They just mentioned on the tour that this is where all school-wide commands originate. They didn’t point out the location of the alarm.”
“I guess they wouldn’t,” says Louisa.
We begin searching for levers, buttons, switches — anything that would be capable of sounding an alarm.
Then Louisa points at the big, glittering star hanging on the wall. It’s a fancy rendition of the Alliance seal.
“It’s worth a try,” I whisper. I start to pull the star off the wall, and then I freeze. My breath catches in my throat. My eyes dart sideways and I strain my ears, listening.
“What’s wrong?” asks Louisa.
I drop my hand. “I think you should go downstairs now …
right now
… and see if Evelyn and Rosie were able to find Ivan.”
She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “And leave you here alone?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll just check behind a few more things. Maybe it’s not even in here.”
“I don’t know, Maddie,” says Louisa, wringing her hands. “I think it’s better if we stick to the plan. It’s safer if we stay together.”
Trust me
, I’m thinking.
It’s not
.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure her. “Go back to the pantry. I’ll be there in two minutes, I promise.” I hurry to remove my wristband device and thrust it at her. “Use this if you need it.”
She looks at me for a long moment, and I’m afraid she’s going to argue, but finally, she nods.
“Good luck,” she says, just the way she did the day I took the training wheels off my bike.
The memory fills me and I nearly choke up. “You’re my best friend,” I blurt out.
“And you’re mine,” she whispers. “Always.”
She disappears through the door and down the hall. And then there’s that noise again. The rustling sound that made me freeze.
So I was right. I hadn’t imagined it.
There
is
someone else in this office. Which is why I sent Louisa away. To protect her.
Now my hunch is further confirmed by the sound of the Phoenix banner being swept aside.
I turn to see Brianna standing there, pointing something at me. She is looking at me with those hateful eyes of hers and I can’t help but feel a little sorry for her. What a horrible life she must have had to be so filled with anger and loathing. But this time, she doesn’t shout threats at me; this time, she speaks in a ghostly whisper: “I’m in trouble.”
You and me both
, I’m thinking, but I don’t say it. I just continue to stare at the gadget she’s holding, which is clearly some kind of remote control.
“I was sent here to be punished,” she explains in her creepy, zombie voice. “I’m waiting for Miss Castle.”
“Oh.” My mouth is dry as I take a tentative step toward the door. “Well, then I’m sure you’ll be wanting your privacy, so —”
“See that?” She motions with the remote to the aluminum briefcase on the desk. “That’s something I made in pyrotechnics class. It’s supposed to be my final project.”
I swallow hard, guessing that the operative word in that sentence would be
final
.
“It’s a bomb. A good one. A strong one. Better than any of these other pathetic cadets, or even the teachers, could have ever assembled. That’s why Miss Castle got mad. She said I overstepped. She said I had no business making such a high-powered device. But I’ll get even with her!” Brianna informs me.
“Um …” I hate to ask but I have to. “How exactly are you going to get even?”
“I’m going to blow up this place!”
She says this in such a delighted tone that it makes me shiver. I suppose I could try tackling her, but I’m afraid the action might set off the detonator she’s holding.
Then she surprises me by asking a question. “What’s it like?” she demands. “Tell me! What’s it like?”
“What’s
what
like?”
“Having friends. Having people who like you and won’t betray you at any moment?”
She’s got some nerve talking about betraying people, since she’s the one about to blow up all of her classmates. But I decide not to point that out to her. She is looking away from me, her eyes suddenly wistful and sad. I take the opportunity to step the tiniest bit closer to her.
“You want to know what having friends is like?” I ask. “Well … I should tell you … it’s actually pretty nice.” I think of Louisa, Rosie, and Evelyn. I think of Alonso, Drew, and Ryan. And Jonah. I have to blink back the wetness in my eyes.
“I think I had friends once,” she sighs, moving her index finger so that it is poised above a red-lit button on the detonator.
There is a scream in my throat but I don’t let it out. “I’m sure you had great friends,” I assure her, sneaking another step in her direction. “And you can have them again!” I take a deep breath and do my best to copy the soothing tone that Jonah used the day he saved me on the catwalk. “You’re a smart girl, Brianna. You know this is a bad place. Let me help you get out of here, and I
promise everything will be okay. Just don’t press that button!”
Tears are spilling out of the corners of her eyes now, and the hand that holds the detonator is beginning to shake. She bites her lip, struggling with the decision. “I miss my friends.”
“I’ll be your friend,” I whisper.
For a moment, she just stares and her expression is so blank I think she’s forgotten I’m here. But then she blinks away a tear, and ever so slowly, she extends her hand — the one holding the detonator — in my direction.
Just as slowly, I reach out to meet it halfway. My fingers are about to close around it when I feel something powerful collide with me from behind.
The force is that of a freight train or a meteor.
The next thing I know, I’ve hit the floor.
And the detonator is gone.