Brightside, Mark Tullius [philippa perry book .TXT] 📗

about heading the other way, but I needed to get to my desk. Needed to look like everything was normal.

I tried to control my thoughts, tried to think about anything but the mineshaft, my escape. But I couldn’t help it. I finally had a way out, just not the way Dad wanted.

An arm swung out and grabbed my shirt.

Wayne King and that nasty beard.

“Momma’s boy has a secret.”

I threw his hand off, kept moving.

Wayne called out, “Don’t go leaving without me!”

“King!” the guard yelled. “Shut your damn mouth or I’ll do it for you.”

When the office elevator doors opened, I had to squint my eyes. The sixth floor was always too bright and my head felt ready to split. Nearly every inch of every wall was covered with ridiculous posters of exotic locales.

Until this moment, I hadn’t been able to look at them. The bungalow sitting a foot above the Tahitian clear blue waters. The massive Swiss Alps, the sun shining off the snow-covered ski slopes. The promise of the pyramids, the adventure of an African Safari.

Before this moment they had been brutal reminders of all the exciting places I’d never see. But now, with the mineshaft, I just might.

Changing out of my shirt was a priority, but first I had to sit down. I had to get my shit together.

I squeezed between the desk and the wall and dropped into my chair.

My body was already feeling like one big bruise from lifting those rocks. I’d scraped up my arm.

My Extra-Strength Excedrin was on the desk, always in reach. I popped two like they could actually take away my pain. I’d need the whole bottle for that, but with my luck it’d just make me sick.

I pulled out the shirt from my desk. Carlos suggested I have a spare after I’d spilled toner in the copy room, had an accident with the coffee machine. As I buttoned with one hand, I powered the computer and waited for it to warm up. The dinosaur was two years old, plenty of time to get out my yellow pad and two pens, and try not to stare at the wooden picture frame and the fading Polaroid, edges crumpled and black. But I didn’t need the photo to remember just how blue the Mad River had been, the number of brown trout I was holding, the way I was smiling at Dad because there was never anyone else around to take the picture.

That stupid kid. That stupid smile. I pushed the frame off the edge, right into the trashcan.

I was letting things get to me so I took a deep breath and leaned back in the chair, rubbed my temples to clear my head. It worked better than a slap in the face and so much quieter.

I reached into the brown bag I’d gotten from the cafeteria and pulled out the cherry-filled donut. It miraculously remained intact except for the blob of red oozing down the side. With no more shirts, I threw it in the trash, gave the frame some company.

Then came the distant drone of a helicopter.

Panic.

To most people the helicopter was no big deal, and maybe I was overreacting, but I just knew they’d found my escape. The escape someone else had tried to cover.

The helicopter sounded like it was coming from the front of the building. I hurried down the hallway.

Grace, Yung, and Trevor had their offices on the left side of the hall, but I was only interested in the ones facing the street. Wendell’s was first, the door closed, probably locked, a sad attempt at keeping the donut holes a secret. Sheila’s office was next to his, her door closed as well. Always locked.

Nathan, Brightside’s resident artist, had the office before the bathrooms and emergency stairwell. His door was wide open. He never closed it, said he didn’t see the point because he wanted everyone to know he was so fucking cool.

The bit of morning light coming through Nathan’s window let me see without flipping the switch. I entered the office. Five miniature figures stood sentinel around the room and watched me head behind Nathan’s desk, the Exacto knife right there, ready to create, remove. The figure sitting on the monitor looked bored, jealous of the one by the phone, both hands on his ears.

I looked out the window and saw all of the Square, but no helicopter. It sounded further to the left so I hurried out of Nathan’s and turned down the south hallway. The noise was coming from straight ahead. Past the conference room on the left, Gloria and Edward’s office to my right. It was loudest behind Carlos’s door, the only one I couldn’t see through.

Entering the boss’s office was never a good idea, but I did it anyway. From his window, I could see the dull black helicopter was much further than I’d thought, well out of the mounted gun’s shooting range. Where it was flying was what bothered me. Hovering halfway up the mountain between the park and the peak, not too far from my carvings, real close to the cemetery.

I closed Carlos’s door behind me, started for the elevator and tripped. If I hadn’t Demarius would have heard about my plan, not just me thinking about my ankle. Demarius leaned against the wall to my office, his eyes hidden behind the sunglasses.

Demarius was first to speak. “Damn, son, whatchu rushing for?”

“Just trying to...”

“You crack the safe?”

“What?”

He pointed at Carlos’s office. “Why you snooping?” Demarius took a step away from the wall, his usual grin nowhere to be found. He called me over with his finger. “Let me holler at you.”

I focused on my ankle, not the rocks I’d lifted to hide the cave. “I’m really busy.”

“Look, I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry. You know, for telling Sharon about your thoughts.”

“Oh...no big deal.” I headed for my office, hopped so my ankle was all I could think of.

You one skittish motherfucker.

I threw myself into the chair. My mind back in the forest. The helicopter would see everything. I was fucked. Everything fucked.

Sara was back at her desk. I hadn’t even seen her on the way in. She was staring at me. Her eyes looking ready to pop.

“Joe, you need to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Just stop.” I knew she’d heard every thought, but I couldn’t control it.

She stood and grabbed me by the arm. She was stronger than she looked.

“Get up.”

“Why?”

Get. Up. Thinking like a drill sergeant, just like Dad.

I had no choice and hopped on one foot, trying to save my ankle. Sara peeked out the door, checked to make sure the coast was clear. Then she dragged me out of our office, me jumping like an idiot. We made it to the stairwell. There wasn’t a camera, but Sara still wouldn’t open her lips.

Are you fucking crazy?

“It was our chance to—”

Sara smashed her hand over my mouth and thought, You’re going to get yourself killed.

I don’t care.

Joe, if you go running out there, trying to find whatever you found, they’re going to send you to the Cabin. And then they’re going to ask who else knows. They’re going to ask Danny.

Danny doesn’t know.

But I do.

I hated everything coming out of her head, but she was right. If I went out there, I’d never make it to the cave. Even if they didn’t know about the mineshaft, I’d lead them right to it.

Sara took my arm. “Let’s just go back to work.”

I clicked my teeth, knowing it was my only option. I spent the rest of the day at my desk, trying not to think. I couldn’t help it though, which was why Sara never let me leave, even for lunch. I stayed tethered to that computer, away from everyone else.

After work, Sara invited me over for dinner with Danny. My mind on the helicopter. There’d been no reports of the cave, no mention of anything, except for a few new Brightsiders delivered into the fold. I prayed that was it.

Danny popped up from the take-out we’d gotten, started spinning around, his mouth motorboating, spit flying like a disgusting sprinkler.

“Danny, sit down,” Sara said.

“I’m a helicopter!”

“Danny, go wash up. NOW!”

Danny kept twirling to the bathroom, almost toppling over into the kitchen.

“Maybe I should try that.” I tapped my skull and said, “Might turn off this stupid thing.”

Sara gave a sad smile, a small shake of her head.

I felt awful and said I was sorry. “And thank you for earlier.”

“You’re welcome.” Sara took a bite of her cold fries. “Although, you would’ve had plenty of time to spin in the Cabin.”

I smiled, but my mind went to Rachel, to the Boots taking her away, to the forest, the cave, the long, winding shaft, and that terrifying drop. Sara flinging over the ropes. Both of us rappelling.

Sara looked at me, her eyes hard and cold. “No.”

“But we could get out of here.”

“And I told you no. Now, you need to stop—”

“Why? Don’t you want to be...” I trailed off, suddenly afraid there were cameras. The Council said they’d had them all removed from the apartments, but there was no way of knowing.

We can be free, I thought.

And if we get caught? Sara shook her head. Then everything I’ve done to be here will be for nothing.

The awkward tension physically hunched my back. Thankfully, Danny broke it by walking in with toothpaste caked around his lips.

I stood and said my goodbyes, said it was late. Sara walked me to the door.

Joe?

I turned, saw the sadness swirling in her eyes.

I care about you, and I can’t thank you enough for looking after Danny. But if you’re going to put us in danger, then you can’t see us anymore.

My lip started to split between my teeth. I nodded and left before Sara felt sorry for me.

Staying away from Sara was impossible. Her desk was eight feet away. But it might as well have been a mile. She focused all her energy into her calls, and when she did look at me, she only told herself I was a co-worker, nothing more. She had to do this for Danny, because she knew I’d made up my mind.