Within These Walls

Life After Dark: 8 (WTW Sequel)

"Jones, get out of her way," Janie says.

"But Marcus told me to keep an eye on her."

I'm severely annoyed at Marcus for thinking I need a chaperone. Granted, I am trying to break out of the manor without his awareness or consent, but that's just it. I don't need his consent. This isn't the facility, where he ran the show. This is the real world.

I shove my way past Jones as Janie warns, "Jones, I swear if you don't get back in the house, you're going to be eating peanut butter sandwiches and canned soup for a month straight. We're supposed to be keeping a low profile."

"Driving an Aston Martin is not keeping a low profile!" he yells as I crawl into the backseat from the passenger side.

Janie guns the car right as Adam slams the passenger door, and I brace my hand on the seat as we speed across the long driveway. "Maybe not," she says, excitement in her voice, "but it sure feels good. Holy shit. It's like riding a ten-foot wave while you're on the back of a bucking bronco. You sure you don't want a turn, Adam?"

"Yeah, can I drive right now?" he says-or rather, chokes out.

The tires squeal as we practically tear out of the driveway and onto an empty back road. It's a beautiful and isolated area, lots of scraggly trees and shrubbery with hints of early spring snow covering their backs. I might've enjoyed the scenery if I wasn't so terrified.

"I don't think so," Janie says to him over the roar of the engine as she presses down on the gas pedal. "You drive like an old lady. You need to live a little and stop being so protective of your life, Mr. Shield. Am I right or what, April?"

Or what, I think and squeeze my eyes shut when we almost fly into a ditch. "Um, maybe we shouldn't wreck the car."

That makes her slow down to a more tolerable speed. "You're right. It would be a shame to damage something so beautiful."

I was thinking more along the lines of how we should try not to die and also be more considerate of the owners, considering they never agreed to lend us their house or cars, but this works, too. "So, what's the plan here? What did Lisa find out?"

"The flipper lives in Durham, which is a low-income neighborhood in the western side of Denver. The whole area around his residential building has been closed off," Adam answers, his voice returning back to normal. "The police aren't letting anyone get close. The death count is in the twenties, with about twice that number unaccounted for, and there are still a dozen Blanks on the loose."

"Wow," I murmur, my mind reeling at the degree of catastrophe. "What happened to the missing people?"

"Where Blanks go, people end up dead or missing," Janie explains. "In any case, the Blanks won't rest until they find the flipper or get killed."

"And there's no way to change them back?"

Janie confirms what I already know when she shakes her head. Carson is proof that the Blank condition is permanent. So am I, for that matter. The only thing that saved me was the doses of the metamorphosis inhibitor serum that I've been getting for months since I exhibited symptoms that night at the bridge. It allowed me to retain my sanity, at least long enough until Willow could do something about it.

I hate that she took my memories, but if they were stressing me out to the point that I was constantly blanking . . . maybe I should be thanking her instead.

"How are we going to find the flipper?" I ask, discouraged.

"That's where Rochelle comes in," Janie answers.