The Jump, page 19
I breathe a sigh of relief and stifle a cough, hoping this ride will be over soon.
It’s not long before my hopes are answered, and the elevator dings open again. I hear an accordion door squeak open and I’m rolled inside, where I hear plastic clicking against plastic, and I feel the reverberation of the bin making contact with its brother bins. Once the door squeaks closed again and I hear the janitor’s now-familiar footsteps shuffle away, I know it’s safe to unlid this thing and hop out.
Way too easy.
ME: I’m in.
Not sure where I am, though. I look around in the darkness before leaning out the closet to make sure there’s no one around.
SPIDER: Thank the universe.
“What the fuck are you doing here?!” bellows a voice from down the dark, dimly lit hallway. I look over my shoulder, feeling that trembling creeping into my hands as I clutch my phone close. That yell echoes through this place like the adrenaline you feel after being shocked by an electrical outlet. My chest hurts.
But I don’t have time to breathe all of this away.
Because Lucas is running.
Straight at me.
Jax
Melinda drives like she’s tryna star in The Fast and the Furious: Seattle Drift in these South Lake Union streets. It took us five minutes to get here, and I know from riding around with Han that it’s supposed to take at least ten minutes with no traffic.
But we’ve got a puzzle to crash, so I don’t say anything.
I just check my phone again for a message from literally anyone.
ME: I’m on my way to SLU to make sure you’re all ok. I hope none of y’all are there.
I glance over at Karim, who a while back told me to look the other way so he could change back into his purple suit because he “wouldn’t be caught dead in that thing,” referring to the jumpsuit I’m still wearing because I’m too busy telling my friends not to die.
But now he’s glued to his phone too, and pity floods me as I realize he’s in the same boat as I am, and that anxiety is the same, even when wrapped in purple velvet.
“Anything from your crew?” I ask. He shakes his head without looking at me, fingers still flying.
“Sigge won’t text me back, and Lucas… I never know what that buffoon is doing.”
A snort escapes before I can cover my mouth.
“What’s so funny?” he asks. Now he looks at me.
“I’ve just never met someone who uses the word ‘buffoon’ unironically.”
“What’s wrong with the word ‘buffoon’?” he asks, genuinely confused.
“Nothing!” I assure him with a smile. “Nothing at all.”
His eyes narrow like he doesn’t believe me, but after a shrug he turns back to his phone and shuts it off before slipping it into his pocket with a sigh.
“We’re not friends, you know,” he says.
Yeah. Uh. I guessed that when he tried to run and leave me at the site of a fucking shooting.
“I mean, me and Lucas.”
…Oh.
“Well, that’s good, I guess.” The hell else am I supposed to say? Sorry you lost a friend? He didn’t. He lost a mentally unstable racist who happens to know him.
“I… can’t believe he just left me there.”
That pings something awake in my throat—half of me can’t believe Karim really trusted that guy. And half of me can’t believe Karim’s parents let him trust him.
“He has to know what it meant for me to be there, right?” he asks. “I mean, because I’m…”
I smile.
“You ain’t gotta say it, man,” I reply, glancing up at Karim’s mom out of habit. She may be his mom, but something buried deep in the back of my brain says if they’re not my zaza, I have to be careful how I phrase things. “You and me. It means more for us to be places, you know?”
His eyes linger on me for half a second too long, and when he blinks and swallows, I realize he’s holding back tears.
“Thanks,” he says. “I… I think you’re right.”
And thus, the day came when Karim woke and realized, no matter how much money you got, how close-shaven your head, how purple your suit, how well versed you are in fancy-ass cheeses, you’re still Black.
“So,” I say, seizing the opportunity to change the subject, “Sigge mentioned she’s new to ROYAL. Is that true?”
“I asked her to join ROYAL because we needed an athlete. She’s the agility, Lucas is—was—the muscle, and yours truly is the brains.”
Wow, that sounds conceited as hell. Isn’t the whole team supposed to be “the brains”? That’s how JERICHO works anyway. I may be the official “puzzler” of the group, since I started the forum, and hashing out clues is my favorite thing, but I couldn’t do what I do without Yas’s athleticism, or Spider’s hacking skills, or Han’s passion for, uh… secret infrastructure navigation.
We’re all the brains.
“I just mean we all have a role to play,” he says, pinching his purple collar and smiling at me. “Imagine me jumping from building to building in this.”
Speaking of buildings, ours is coming up. I stare out the window as we round the corner, and my heart sinks. Simultaneously I hear Karim say behind me, “Oh no,” while I say, “Oh shit.”
Cars line the street in front of the building labeled “MANTLE”—no idea why Roundworld called it that. Maybe because the hearth is often the heart of the home? Nah, but that’s spelled m-a-n-t-e-l. Maybe like its headquarters is to the company? Whatever the reason behind the name, the flag flying at the top is unmistakable. This really does have to be the last piece of the puzzle, as huge and sharp as that big white flag is with the red eye stamped on each side. The wind is surging through here tonight, sending the flag flapping angrily. And suddenly, to the left of the building, I catch a flash of white, and then another, and I realize it’s Yas and… is that—
“Sigge!” exclaims Karim. “Mom, stop here! We’ve got it the rest of the way.”
He swings open the Range Rover door and leaps out, taking off down the street faster than I ever knew anybody could run in a suit. Melinda looks over her shoulder at me apologetically, as if she wishes he hadn’t left me so rudely. “He does track, you know,” she says, looking through the windshield at him as he sprints down the sidewalk. “That’s my baby.”
My heart breaks for her, and I recognize in her tone that she just wants him to be safe. Which reminds me. I reach down into that plastic bag full of my clothes from the detention center until I find that familiar twine string and pull out Mama’s amethyst crystal.
For protection.
I drape it around my neck and step out the door.
“I’ll keep an eye on him, Melinda,” I promise. “Thanks for the ride.”
She smiles back at me and nods gratefully, and I shut the door and take off after Karim. Damn this kid can move! He’s flying so fast, I can hardly keep up. I doubt even Yas could keep up, and I don’t say that about just anyone. After barely glancing each way before darting into the road, I sprint out after him, startled at a blaring HOOOOONK that shoots through my ears and rattles my brain.
“Hey, what the hell, man?” comes an exasperated voice from the driver’s seat.
“Sorry, sorry!” I say to the poor cab driver, whose headlights are bright enough to beam straight through my soul. But my attention is still across the street, where I see Yas and Sigge reaching the top of the building. I have to get up there before either of them can get to that flag!
“Yas!” I holler. But she keeps sprinting up the stairs ahead of Sigge, her white hijab fluttering at her neck as she goes. I hurry after Karim as he grabs the scaffolding arm rail and hurls himself up the first row of steps.
“Sigge!” he yells after her. “Sigge, stop!”
“What?” she asks, stopping where she is to look down at us. “Karim?” Her face spreads into a smile! Sigge! Smiling! I had no idea it was possible! “Karim, you’re okay! How did you get—”
“No time!” he snaps, pointing past Sigge to where Yas has just disappeared over the top of the roof. “Stop her!”
“Don’t let her get that flag!” I scream as Karim begins running again, and I follow. When I glance up, Sigge looks so confused. I can only guess what questions are running through her head. She’s probably wondering why Karim and I are working together, how we’re both miraculously out of jail, and why we’re both screaming at her to stop Yas before she can grab that flag and win this game.
Just yesterday, I wouldn’t believe I’d be saying this, but I cannot let Yas win this game.
I hear a strange rustling from somewhere below me, and I glance down to where we just were on the ground, where a small crowd is gathering—only a few people standing there watching us all race up the side of the building. One guy toward the front yells:
“Hell yeah, they’re taking over Roundworld!”
“They’re attacking the building!” screams someone else.
“Down with the fucking establishment!” chants another.
Shit.
As much as I appreciate the passion from these folks, the last thing we need right now is an audience. I want to grab Yas, get back down those stairs, and go home quietly and without incident. Karim and I are already out on bail, and Yas is about to fall right into the hands of the cops. If she pulls that flag, I have no idea what might happen, but I know the Order—the real Order—well enough to know it can’t be good.
“Yas!” I say, turning my attention back to running after Karim, who’s now disappearing over the side after Sigge. When I finally reach the top, I pull myself up onto the rooftop, where I see the worst thing I could’ve hoped to see.
Yas, standing there, pulling the flag from its stand in the middle of the roof as her eyes lock onto mine.
“Jax?”
Yas
It all happens so fast.
One second, I’m elated, yanking this flag from its stand.
The next, I’m questioning the pop that I just heard from the now-empty holder.
Then I’m looking up at Jax and Karim, who are supposed to be in jail.
And Sigge is looking just as confused as I am.
And… is that… do I smell… smoke?
Han
It’s dark in here.
And Lucas is sprinting at me.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” he shrieks.
There are a few things I can do at this point. Option 1: I can fight him. No, I can’t. Not only am I a pacifist, but this kid is chaos personified, and I’m not about to take on a boy who fired a gun in a Thirty Foods to create a diversion. Option 2: I can run. No, I can’t. Lucas is coming at me like a freight train. I can’t run that fast in actual track clothes, let alone my jeans and sweatshirt. Option 3—
Before I can think of an option 3, my worst nightmare flares up again, like a raging flood of lava washing over me, covering my body in this awful tingly feeling, seeping into my ears and frying my brain. The blaring sound of a fire alarm.
Another one.
I resist the urge to collapse inward, to retreat. To crumple up into a little ball until this goes away. Lights flash angrily all the way down the hall, gluing me to the floor, but I know I have only seconds until Lucas reaches me, so I command force into my feet and hurry my screaming body the opposite way. I fly down the hall as fast as I can, past utility closet after utility closet, wondering how the hell I’m going to escape this kid.
“How’d you even get in here?” he bellows. “There’s no way you paid the guard enough!”
Something inside me smirks at hearing that. You don’t need to bribe people to get out of bad situations when you’ve had to be scrappy your whole life. I know so many Seattle buildings inside and out. I turn another corner, hearing Lucas’s footsteps gaining behind me, and the light of the open elevator dwindles from the other side now that we’ve rounded the hallway in a U shape around the elevator shaft. And now, suddenly, I know what I have to do.
I go against every responsible piece of fire safety I’ve ever been taught.
I dart into the elevator.
The elevator that opens on both sides.
I hear Lucas jump in behind me just as I press the emergency lock button and hop through the opposite door. I turn just in time to see his tomato-red face hollering at me to “open this thing the fuck up” before the doors seal his screaming ass inside and begin to lower him safely to the ground floor.
But just as I’m able to smile and breathe a sigh of relief, I breathe in something else…
…smoke?
Jax
I’m too late.
Yas is holding the flag.
The crowd below has erupted in cheering, and she and Sigge are both looking at Karim and me like they want an explanation. Now. So, I do the honors.
“Okay,” I say, “I’m sure you’re both confused about why this is bad.”
“I’ll say,” says Sigge, folding her arms across her chest. “What are you both doing out of jail?”
“Money can get you out of almost anything,” says Karim, beaming, as if it was his money and not Melinda’s that got us out.
“You’re out on bail?” asks Yas, just as a series of pop pop pops ring out from somewhere below us. Gunshots?
“The hell was that?” I ask, knowing nobody here knows any more than I do. Whatever it is, I’m sure the Order knows, and it can’t be good. Four different phone alert chimes ring out among us, and we all reach into our pockets to find a new post from the Order.
WE HAVE A WINNER. TEAM JERICHO.
STAY WHERE YOU ARE AND CLAIM YOUR PRIZE.
YOUR DEDICATION HAS PAID OFF.
TO JOIN OUR RANKS, LOOK TO THE SKIES.
I look at Yas, Sigge, and Karim in confusion at everything that’s happening right now. The crowd growing at the base of the building has begun to chant, “Down with Roundworld! Down with Roundworld! Down with Roundworld!”
“Jax? What’s going on?” asks Yas, lowering the flag to her side.
Karim looks over at me like, Better tell them now, and I take a deep breath and—is that smoke I smell?
I look around at first but see no flames. The hell is going on?
“Jax!” demands Yas.
“You were right!” I blurt out. Even the words sear my tongue on the way out. I still don’t want to believe it. “Yas, you were right. You were right about everything. The Order isn’t who they say they are—”
“Jax, what are you saying?” she asks as little wisps of dark smoke rise up behind her. That smoke smell is getting serious now, and I realize those little wisps have turned to clouds, and they’re all around us now, rising up from all sides, turning blacker and blacker, growing and growing. Karim lets out a cough, and Sigge covers her face and grunts, “The building’s on fire! We have to get down!”
What? What the hell? How did the building catch fire?
The Order… They wouldn’t. They didn’t.
Did they?
“Come on,” urges Yas, stepping forward and gripping me by my elbow. “You can explain later. Right now, we have to get down from here!”
A long, angry CREEEEEAK gives way somewhere beneath us, and Sigge stops where she is on the scaffolding steps, looking up at us through the bars.
“Guys?” she begins before the whole metal structure starts, ever so slowly, to buckle. “Guys!”
“Sigge!” shrieks Yas, throwing herself stomach-first to the edge of the roof. She reaches down to Sigge, and I instinctively dive forward and grab her ankle with all the strength I have. The smoke is thickening around us, and a cough grips my chest. Sparks are flying now, and I wonder how much longer we have before the whole building gives way.
“Do you have her?” I scream, hoping to the universe for a yes. I feel a set of strong arms grip my left ankle, and I look back to see Karim, stomach down, looking up at me, eyes narrow.
“Just saving my parents from more therapy costs.”
This guy.
“I can’t reach her!” hollers Yas, yanking her foot out of my grasp and pushing herself to her feet. “I’m going down to get her.”
“What?!” Karim and I yell simultaneously.
This girl wants to jump down a metal staircase that’s warping from the heat of the fire blazing in the building we’re standing on? To save a girl from Team ROYAL?
“You’re better off helping her from the ground,” says Karim, and I nod in agreement. We’re all better off on the ground. An explosive boom! crack! pop! rings out from behind us, and I jump and see a flurry of sparks fly up from an air vent on the other side of the roof.
“We’re going to die up here, aren’t we?” asks Karim. I look over and see tears glistening in his eyes as he kneels and clamps the side of the building overlooking the crowd at the bottom. People have backed away into the street and across the street on the opposite sidewalk. And now, to my horror, red and blue cop lights have lit up the whole road and sidewalk below us. One officer raises a bullhorn to his mouth and has the nerve to announce:
“We’re here to help you. Please cooperate and no one has to get hurt. Help is on the way.”
And right on cue, I hear chopper blades descending from out of the night sky.
LOOK TO THE SKIES.
A spotlight flashes on like somebody turned on their high beams after a long, sleepless night, and I shield my eyes and cover my nose and mouth with my sweatshirt sleeve. The chopper blades are blowing down on us so strongly, I have to brace against the ground just to avoid getting blown off.
“We’re saved!” I hear Karim’s voice over the whip-whip-whip of the thunderous blades.
“Don’t!” I holler. “It’s a trap, remember? They’re going to arrest us for arson!”
“Why would they do that?” he asks.
“Don’t you get it, Karim?” I scream, half to make sure I’m heard, and half from sheer rage. Sadness. Terror. I’ve been duped. We all have. And then I notice it. “The flag! Look at the holder!”
He follows my finger to the gaping hole where the flag used to be, where a single wire pokes out, spitting an occasional spark.
