Chapter Twenty-Two - The Choice

The kitchen seemed dim now that Katie had gotten used to the lights of the city. Though the daylight still crept in from the windows, Jeremy had lit candles to stave off the shadows and built up the fire to drive away the chill.

Katherine asked a few questions about the city, but Katie steered the conversation onto village life and her friend followed suit. The girls kept a steady stream of stories and gossip that highlighted the best of their village life.

Neil listened but kept himself busy poking at a green bean.

“That’s what green beans look like when they’re not microwaved to death,” Katie teased.

“What’s microwaved?” Mallory asked.

Neil snorted, glancing at Katie.

“It what our breadbox is supposed to do,” Katie answered. “In the city, the buttons turn it on, and it heats up food in about a minute.”

“How does it cook that fast without burning it?” Katherine asked.

“Magnetron makes...waves.” Neil’s eyes roved as he motioned with his hands, “vibrates…molecules…but not air.”

Katherine stared at him before she stammered, “I…didn’t understand any of that.”

Neil’s smile vanished. His face flushed as he turned downward. “Sorry.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that,” Katherine said quickly. “I just…I’ve never heard some of those words. I don’t know what they—"

Neil yelped, jolting in his chair. His fork and knife clattered against the wooden plate.

Katie’s spine straightened as Neil’s hand went to his throat.

Jeremy gave a startled laugh. “What was that?”

“Are you all right? Mallory asked.

Neil’s eyes rose slowly, alarmed, to meet Katie’s.

The back of her knees hit her chair, sending it into a wobble, then a crash as she ran to the door to slam it. “No, no, this can’t be happening!”

“Katie?” Jeremy asked.

She spun, slamming her back against the door to stare at Neil. “How is AIDA here? How is she here!”

“Who is AIDA?” Mallory stood, swaying first toward Katie, then toward the back door.

“AIDA shocks Neil. It’s how the Alcott’s control him.” Katie said. “But she’s…I don’t…”

An unfamiliar engine proceeded a stream of crunches like someone dragged something across the front path.

Simultaneously, something crashed into the back door before it burst open, and Clark rushed in, hissing, “Go! Go, they’re looking for you.”

Katie rushed to Neil, but he sat frozen at the table. The front steps shook under several pairs of feet. Katie crawled beneath the tablecloth, motioning Neil to follow her. Katherine shoved his shoulder and the man finally dropped to his knees, crawling after Katie. From the other side, Mallory shoved two plates and glasses beneath the tablecloth.

The door thundered beneath three hard knocks. This time it was Neil who grabbed Katie to keep her from bolting out of hiding.

Katie curled to press her ear against the floor, peering beneath the edge of the tablecloth, just in time to see the lumps of caked mud fall from Jeremy’s boots as he walked toward the door.

He stood and called through, as though he didn’t know. “Who is it?”

“It’s Mayor Blackwell!”

Katie’s head began a slow swim.

Wood scraped against wood, and a puff of air shook the thin veil near Katie’s head as Jeremy opened the door.

Mallory’s friendly tone was ruined by the rapid breath that punctuated her words. “Mr. Blackwell. We didn’t expect to see you. Come in. How are you? Who is this?”

“Don’t waste my time,” Mr. Alcott’s voice growled. “I have come to collect my son and his property.”

“Your son?” Mallory’s surprise added a reality to her act. “What…”

“We don’t know anything about your son,” Jeremy stated.

“Obviously.” Mr. Alcott's voice rose. “If you did, you’d know that he has a tracker. Which means I can find him. Anytime he runs. Anywhere he goes. And I have tracked him to…oh. Here.”

Katie lifted her head to stare at Neil, meeting his eyes, only inches away. They were glassy with a bright glint of despair.

Mr. Blackwell spoke up. “So, we know he’s here. If he is here, so is she. And if you bring them out right now, we can leave with no further issues. If you don’t, you’ll be arrested.”

“Excuse me?” Jeremy’s voice rose.

“What are you talking about?” Mallory asked. “Mr. Blackwell, we don’t have your son here. And as for Katie…”

Mr. Alcott sighed. “AIDA, engage in correction mode eight.”

“Mr. Alcott, please,” Mrs. Alcott's voice rose in a squeak. “There’s no need! Please! Please bring out Neil. We just want Neil, don’t we, darling? We just want our son.”

Time was such a strange thing. It stretched on in silence long enough for Katie to press her fingers hard into Neil’s hand. For Neil’s eyes to fall to the floor, for his face to pale, for him to caress his throat, for the lines in his face to sink downward. The spark drained from his eyes.

“AIDA,” Mr. Alcott said.

Katie’s eyes flooded, both tears dropping to the floor, instantly replaced.

Neil rolled toward the tablecloth, disappearing beneath. It fell like a curtain.

“Ah. There you are.” Mr. Alcott’s voice remained calculatedly cold. “Where’s your girl? She down there with you?”

“No,” Neil said.

“AIDA, correct Neil’s lie.”

Katie crawled out.

Neil collapsed, clutching his throat, growling in a vain attempt to stifle his scream.

“What are you doing?” Jeremy stepped toward Neil, then whirled toward Mr. Alcott.

“I told you I am here to collect my son and Katie,” Mr. Alcott said. “If you try to stop me, I will bring charges of theft against you.”

“Theft? You kidnapped her!” Mallory said.

“I did not. I bought her.”

“What?” Katie sputtered.

Clark strode across the room and seized Katie hand. "That is a lie!”

“No, it’s not,” Mr. Alcott said. “I have the legal paperwork right here that Katie belongs to my son.”

Mallory snatched the paper from the man’s hands. “You promised her a scholarship and tricked us into sending her!”

Mr. Alcott blinked, folding his arms as Mallory scanned the paper, pretending she could read words.

Katie wobbled toward her sister, taking the paper. Words, printed like a book, but there was the date of her sister’s marriage. There was Mr. Alcott’s name in a scrawling signature. And there was Mayor Blackwell’s, right next to it.

“What is it?” Mallory panted. “What does it say?”

Her mouth fell as her face floated in a slow lift, toward the man who stood against the wall. “How could you?” Katie whispered before she yelled. “You had no right.”

Mr. Blackwell’s nose rose as he returned her eye contact. “As mayor, I have the legal authority to relocate unnecessary individuals in order to preserve resources. Katie wanted to go to the city. And if there was a wealthy family looking to provide a young lady with a good home, who promised to take care of her…”

“And we did take care of her!” Mrs. Alcott interjected. “We took very good care of her.”

“You locked me in a house!” Katy cried.

Jeremy reached for the rifle over the door and racked it. “You are not taking Katie anywhere. I don’t care who is mayor.”

“Don’t you dare threaten me!” Mr. Blackwell roared.

Clark snatched the papers from Katie’s hand, crumbled them, and threw them into the fireplace.

Mr. Alcott took a breath. “I can get another copy of that paper.”

“I can get another bullet for this gun,” Jeremy said.

“Perhaps,” Mrs. Alcott spoke in a very small voice, “we could get a refund.”

“How much?” Mallory asked.

“$5,000,” Mr. Alcott said.

Jeremy glared. “Why don’t you just take our mayor instead for an even trade?”

“Jeremy,” Mayor Blackwell spoke. “Don’t do anything stupid. We will let Mr. Blackwell take Katie and Neil, and we will not stop him.”

Clark pulled in a breath, turning toward Mr. Alcott. “I will buy Katie from you.”

“You, son, don’t have enough to buy Katie!” Mr. Blackwell roared.

“I’ll get it,” Clark snapped.

“From who?” Mr. Blackwell asked. “Not us.”

 “Katie is mine!” Neil roared. His voice rang, commanding every eye in the room to swing toward him. He glared at his father, speaking distinctly. “She wants…to stay. She stays.”

“Well, then it’s all settled,” Mrs. Alcott held out her arm, almost desperately. “Come on home. We’ll find you another girl.”

The air left Neil’s lungs like he’d been punched. “I want to stay.”

Mr. Alcott pressed his tongue against his teeth. “That’s not an option.”

“Of course, it is,” Mallory said. “He’s a grown man. He’s welcome to stay.”

“Katie doesn’t want you, Neil,” Mr. Alcott spoke with slow, distinct words. “She lied to you. Everything she told you was just to trick you into helping her escape!”

“That’s not true,” Katie said.

“You had no intention of staying with Neil here,” Mr. Alcott insisted. “You just used him to break you out and dragged him through the wilderness so you could get back to this guy.”

He motioned toward Clark who threw a surprised glance toward Katie.

She shook her head, sputtering, “I never…I said Neil could be free here, and he can be! He’s Class A. He has no restrictions.”

“See Neil?” Mr. Alcott said. “She doesn’t want you! There’s nothing for you here.”

“That’s not true!”

“How many times has she lied to you?”

“Neil, I opened the door for you,” Katie said. “I wouldn’t have opened the door if I wanted you to stay behind.”

“Well, which one do you want, Katie?” Mr. Alcott demanded. “Neil or this guy?”

“That’s not fair!” Clark snapped.

Neil dropped his head so low she couldn’t see his expression, only the rise and fall of his throat as he swallowed. “I don’t…want Katie. I want…to stay.”

Mr. Alcott dug his phone from his pocket, hit a button, and spoke into it. “AIDA, engage in correction mode 10.”

“Rich!” Mrs. Alcott screamed. “Take it off! Take it off right now!”

“Neil,” Mr. Alcott spoke evenly, “you are coming home, with or without Katie. Now walk.”

“Come on, darling.” Mrs. Alcott held out her arms. “Please come. Please, baby, come.”

Neil’s eyes traveled to the window, where the evening sunlight fell into a square across the floor. Lit by the glow, his eyes shone with moisture before a blink wiped it away. He turned his face toward his parents. Lifted his chin and spoke distinctly as he spoke. “I’m sorry.”

Mr. Alcott’s eyes widened. “AIDA, disengage!” He shook where he stood, screaming louder. “Disengage!”

Neil shuddered.

Mr. Alcott dropped the phone. He charged toward his son, caught Neil’s chest, let out a scream as the electricity locked their bodies together. The two bodies shook in unison and stilled in unison, collapsing onto the floor. Mr. Alcott’s head hit the timbers with a loud crack, trapped beneath his son. A halo of blood pooled around the man’s head.

“Correction mode disengaged,” AIDA announced.

Katie screamed, wresting herself from Clark’s grip.

Mrs. Alcott  sagged, catching herself on the table before she collapsed onto her knees.

Katie snatched the phone from the floorboard. She slammed it against the wood, stamping it with her heel. Cracks spidered across the screen. She kicked it, sending it ricocheting against the wall where it split, spitting out the battery.

“Katie! Katie!” Clark lurched to catch her hand.

Katie’s knees throbbed as they hit the boards. Sobbing, she gingerly touched Neil’s chest. Found no current, no shock. No pulse.

“Clark, do something,” Katie panted.

“I-I don’t know what to do,” Clark sputtered. “I don’t even know what happened!”

“Lightening! It’s like lightening!” Katie said.

Clark blew out a breath, shook himself into focus. He felt for a pulse, then planted his palms on Neil’s chest and pumped his weight onto the larger man, already shaking his head with doubt. “I don’t think this will work.”

“It’ll work,” Katie said.

She stared as Clark pinched Neil’s nose and blew hard into his mouth, then pumped again. She crawled to Neil’s head as he pumped again. “I’ll blow. Tell me when to blow.”

“Now,” Clark said.

Neil’s skin was red. Katie put her mouth to his lips, refilling his lungs, then squeezing her eyes as Clark pumped again. She heard something crack. “What was that?”

“A rib. Keep going.”

Katie sobbed but sucked in a breath and tried again.

Mr. Alcott’s vacant gaze stared past her. His eyes had dulled already, face frozen in pain.

“Neil, please. Please, please,” Katie whispered as Clark put his full weight on the man’s sternum.

“Katie… honey…” Mallory’s voice carried softly like it did the day they buried their parents and Katie wouldn’t let them shut up the coffins.

“No!” Katie barked at her, then begged. “Clark. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Clark panted, trying another three pumps and Katie blew. Over and over again until she was dizzy, until Mr. Alcott’s blood had pooled around her knees, until Mrs. Alcott’s sobs had turned into screams that even Mallory’s hug couldn’t muffle.

Until the lines in Neil’s face twitched, rearranging themselves into a subtle expression that belied the pain beneath. His chest pumped. Then he took the tiniest sip of a breath.