CRACKED

FIVE SECONDS LATER

There’s nothing but a gut feeling of terrifying freefall.

My stomach rips up through my throat and I feel like throwing up and screaming at the same time. My brain’s going a mile a minute and the only emotions I can register are shock and utter, unadulterated rage. I should’ve known she was lying to me.

I used to be the best lie detector but now, I’m not so sure. I don’t know whether it’s because of the sedation or because in the time I’ve been incarcerated I’ve gone soft.

This whole thought process takes under a half second as my mind switches gears from “Why did I let this happen?” to “What the hell am I going to do about it?” I start kicking my legs out to get enough momentum so I can turn my body around, hopefully being able to land on my feet. Still, I’m not sure even I’m catlike enough to fall from a seven story building and land on my feet.

Suddenly I feel my body go rigid on its own accord. My movements getting jerky like someone’s attached puppet strings to my limbs. It hits me then. Dahlia’s doing this.

She must have set me up. The cops must have caught up to her in the asylum. That would explain why it took her so long to get to me. She’s basically just doing their bidding, making my capture child’s play. I have no idea what they could possibly be holding over her head but this little snare was damn effective. They knew I would trust her. They knew I wouldn’t question her. The thought hits me like a ton of bricks: They are getting smarter.

Dahlia’s gotten me into the perfect position to land lightly on my feet. I hit the ground hard, stinging my feet. The second I reach impact the mind-control lets up and I fall from my crouch facedown into the dirt. I stand quickly, not knowing where the cops will be coming from. But, suddenly, a delayed roll of nausea hits me and I empty what’s in my stomach into the bushes.

A second later Dahlia lands lightly on the balls of her feet beside me. She barely has time to straighten up before I’m on her, knife to her throat. "You fucking bitch. How could you set me up?" I spit, rage contorting my features to a hardened mask that’s reflected in her widened eyes.

"What are you talking about?" She manages to choke out, though I’m not giving her very much opportunity to speak.

"Where are they?" My voice cracks with fury.

"Where are who? Seriously, Meggy, I didn’t set you up." Her voice is monotone but in her eyes I can see earnest and fear. She’s…afraid of me.

The shell of anger cracks slightly. "Then why, you know, on earth did you push me off the roof?

She smiles slightly, as if testing out whether it will make me angry again. I let up on her throat a little. "Well, I knew from the beginning that’s where those trail of hands would lead. It was convenient because we could escape faster that way. I knew we were going to have to jump all along but I also knew you wouldn’t be up for it so I figured surprise was the best option. I made sure nothing happened. You landed fine. But now we really do have to go…"

My jaw drops to the ground. I roll off her in disgust. "You knew we were going to have to jump? And didn’t decide to, I don’t know, mention it to me? You are so stupid. I could’ve killed you. In fact, I was going to."

"Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t because I’ve got the keys!" She rolls backwards up onto her feet, jingles the keys for a second, and then takes off sprinting into the woods. I sigh, rolling onto my feet, and follow her. Being faster than she is, normally, I would’ve caught up to her easily. But, now that I'm so out of shape, I’m huffing and puffing the whole way to the van. She’s already got the car started, idling, and the passenger door open and waiting by the time I catch up to her. I shut the door loudly and she speeds off.

"You’re really gonna have to work on moving those feet, slowpoke. Any longer and I was sure we were busted." She says, her eyes focusing on not running the nondescript white van into anything.

"Hardy har har." I say, pouting. "Firstly, you’re still not forgiven for pushing me off the roof."

"Whatever. We would’ve never gotten out of there otherwise." She mutters.

"Secondly," I say raising my voice over hers, "you couldn’t have cleaned this thing up while I was gone?" I glance around the cab of the van, filled with old casings, random guns and other gruesome looking weapons, spare explosive wire, and empty pizza boxes.

"Nope," she says taking a turn extra hard on purpose, "I figured I’d let you do that. Think of it as a welcome back present."