Page 22 of Anarchy Chained: Alpha Thomas

I like the feeling of being in the spotlight. Like I’m in command of them, even though they’re just on motion sensors. I stop at the top of the stairs, adjust Sadie’s body in my arms, and then descend. Each step has a light. And each time my foot falls, it lights up.

Case came up with this little improvement after Lulu complained about Lincoln’s dungeon stairs being too dark, so of course, I had to upgrade as well.

When I get to the bottom of the stairs I say, “Lights,” and the whole room illuminates.

I might not have giant jellyfish tanks, but I make up for it with computer monitors.

Sixteen seventy-two-inch monitors to be exact. All mounted and starting up so they can feed me satellite info on command.

I place Sadie on one of the couches near the back of the room, then walk over and take a seat at the command center to enter the codes to see the city.

Then I go back to Sadie. “Hey,” I say, bending down to touch her forehead again. “Can you wake up?”

She really needs to wake up. I cannot take her to a hospital. If I had a Sheila, we’d be all set. But after Steve went a little crazy when the Red Robber hacked into him at Case’s house made of SpyGlass, we put the whole sentient house program on hold except for Sheila.

I had one called Mitch. But he was very elementary. Couldn’t even do things Steve could, let alone Sheila. So I didn’t lose much when we quarantined him.

No, I might not have a Sheila. But I have something almost as good.

I walk over to the small kitchen and open the fridge where I keep all the drugs. Hundreds of little vials are neatly stacked in their proper places. I look around until I find the one labeled REGENERATION, take it out, slam the door, and go looking for a syringe.

This is a special healing enzyme that Linc and Sheila cook up down in that dungeon of theirs. It does exactly what it sounds like. Well, with the exception of Case. But it only went weird for him because Molly poisoned him with something the Blue Boar gave her before we killed him.

I open the syringe, draw out the viscous goop, then flick it with my finger to get rid of air bubbles.

There is a slight risk to using this. She could have an allergic reaction, which would make things significantly worse very quickly. But it’s unlikely so I feel the benefits of not having to take Sadie to a hospital outweigh them. She’s Prodigy. Which means they did things to her as a child, just like they did with me, Linc, and Case. Which means she’s probably had this before anyway. Lots of times. If she was allergic she wouldn’t be here. She’d already be dead.

So I lift her floppy arm and stab her in the vein, pushing the goop in with one quick motion.

She hisses through her teeth. Probably because that shit burns going in, but it’s a good sign. It means she’s still in there. She’s not really unconscious. She’s probably just exhausted.

“Sadie,” I say, slapping the skin on her arm. “Wake up.”

The goop must hit her bloodstream at just that moment, because her eyes fly open and she sits up, panic on her face.

“Shhh,” I say, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s just me. Remember? Thomas Brooks? We met at the insane asylum. You fell for my charming good looks and now we’re living together down in a dungeon?”

I smile at my joke. It’s something new for me. Joking.

She doesn’t find me funny. She yanks her arm away from me and looks around. “Where the hell am I? How did I get here?”

“We’re in one of my towers,” I say, pointing up towards the ceiling. “You know, those giant metal things on the edge of town?”

“No,” she says, eyes searching the room like she’s desperate for something familiar.

“Yeah,” I correct her. “You’re just confused. You can’t miss those towers. I’ve been building them for like a year.”

She places a hand on her head, like she’s got a migraine. “I have never seen any towers,” she insists. “And how did I get here?”

“I brought you, remember? We had that whole daring escape from the asylum and—”

“Oh, my God. I forgot. You’re crazy. I need to go.” She stands up, but staggers over sideways so fast, I have to make a mad grab for her waist to stop her from falling to the floor.

“Whoa, there, tripper. Just take it easy.”

“What did you call me?” she snarls.

“Tripper? You know. That’s what we call illusionists in my neck of the woods.”