Michael Vey: The Prisoner of Cell 25 (Book 1)

One thing I knew about Ostin, if he didn’t understand something, his brain attacked it without ceasing, comparing facts and calculating figures with the intensity of a computer-processing chip. Around nine thirty at night his breakthrough came. He was lying on the couch in my front room, staring at the ceiling as I paced from one side of the room to the other like a caged leopard.

“I just don’t get it,” I said. “How did they know who I am? How did they know about our powers?”

Ostin was quiet for another minute, then he suddenly shouted, “That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

He jumped up from the couch. “I’ve been trying to figure out why they came after you at all. You weren’t looking for those records.” He looked at me, his eyes wide with excitement. “It’s because they don’t care about the records.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re not trying to hide the information about what their machine did. They’re looking for the survivors. And when they found Taylor, they found you!”

“I’m not following you.”

“Look, these guys have all the records of every baby who survived. What if those other children all had powers like yours and Taylor’s? If they discovered that their machine gave those babies special powers, that could be worth billions.”

“That’s a big ‘if,’ ” I said.

“Is it? You said the other kid, Zeus, shocked your mother, right? So we know there’s at least one other”—he spoke the word cautiously—“mutant.

“The only other people we know who were born at that hospital at that time have electrical powers. So, statistically, we’re batting a thousand. There were seventeen children who survived. Maybe they all have powers.”

He paused, waiting for the last of the puzzle pieces to come together. Then he pounded the palm of his hand with his fist. “It was a fake.” Ostin looked at me the way he did when he solved a difficult math problem. “The whole thing with the gunman was fake. It was a test.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Because you don’t pick up an electric eel without getting shocked. They first had to see what you could do. You said the man in the sunglasses appeared after you shocked the gunman, right?”

“That’s right. And he said, ‘Well done, Michael.’ ” I stopped pacing. “You might be on to something. He knew my name and what I did. And Clyde…”

“Who’s Clyde?”

“He’s the gunman. I remember thinking that he looked really nervous, like he didn’t want to be there. He was shaking like crazy. And his gun didn’t even have bullets.” I looked down. “But then why did they take my mom and not me?”

“Maybe they wanted to take both of you, but didn’t get the chance. You said you heard me coming, right?”

“Right.”

“But they were gone by the time I returned. They must have run out of time. They already had your mother, so they took her and ran.”

“Which means they’re probably still looking for me.”

“They don’t have to,” Ostin said.

“What do you mean?”

“They have your mother. They know you’ll come looking for them.” He looked in my eyes. “Whoever took your mom took Taylor. So if we can find one of them, we can find the other.”

I suddenly had a flash of inspiration. “Wait. I think I know where Taylor is.”

“Where?”

“The academy.”

I ran into my bedroom and found the brochure Taylor had given me from her locker. I brought it back out to the front room and spread it open on the counter. “Here. It’s got to be the place. Or at least it’s connected.”

Ostin looked at the brochure. “Five-thirteen Allen Avenue, Pasadena, California.” He looked up. “I think you’re right. I’m betting that the Elgen Academy is really just for kids with electrical powers.”

Ostin’s logic made sense to me. Why else would they offer a scholarship to me when there were hundreds of kids with better grades? “You could be right,” I said.

“Now what?” Ostin asked.

“We tell the police,” I said.

Ostin shook his head. “No way. They’ll never believe us.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“Think about it. Two teenagers walk into a police station and tell them that a secret agency is kidnapping mothers and cheerleaders?”

Hearing it like that did sound crazy.

“But we have proof,” I said.

“No, we have a hunch and some articles on the Internet. They’ll think we’re crazy. And even if we somehow convinced them to look into it, this is a multibillion-dollar company. If they find anyone snooping around, they’ll just move your mom and Taylor to someplace else and then we’ll have nothing.” Ostin stood and began to pace. “We need to know more about our enemy. But it’s not like they’re going to have a Facebook profile. Where do we learn more?”

“Clyde, the gunman,” I said.

“But he’s in jail.”

“Lieutenant Lloyd could get us to him.”

“Why would he do that?”

“He said their first interrogation was worthless. Maybe I can convince him that I might be more effective.” I brought out the card Lieutenant Lloyd had given me. “I’m going to call him.” I immediately went to the phone and dialed Lloyd’s cell phone number.

A gruff voice answered. “This is Boyd.”

His full name was Boyd Lloyd? No wonder he went by Lieutenant. “Lieutenant Lloyd, this is Michael Vey.”

“Michael. What can I do for you?”

I had been so eager to call him that I had dialed without thinking about what I was going to say. “I, uh, just had a thought. You said you had spoken to the gunman, but he didn’t say much.”

“No, he was as tight as pantyhose on a hippo.”

“I was wondering if maybe he would talk to me.”

“You want to speak with Clyde?”

“Well, maybe seeing me might make him talk.”

There was a long pause. “Frankly, we couldn’t do much worse than we did with his last interrogation. Hold on, I’m going to call my partner. May I call you back at this number?”

“Yes,” I said. “Bye.” I hung up the phone.

“What’s up?” Ostin asked. “Why did you hang up?”

“He wants to talk to his partner.”

About ten minutes later my phone rang. “Michael, it’s Lieutenant Lloyd.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I spoke with my partner. He thinks there’s a chance it might work—a small chance, but worth trying. So if you’re willing to face Clyde, I say let’s go for it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“What time are you available?”

“Any time is good. I’m not back to school yet.”

“Then how about I pick you up in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I have your address on the police report. I’ll come by around ten.”

“I’ll be ready. Thank you.”

“Thank you, Michael. We’ll keep our fingers crossed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye.” I hung up then turned to Ostin. “We’re in.”

“Well done,” Ostin said. “You know, you could always just shock Clyde again.”

“The man helped kidnap my mother. Whatever it takes,” I said. “Whatever it takes.”