Time Trapped by Richard Ungar Page B

as I look around at the recruits, something niggles at me. Something isn’t quite right.
    â€œFollow me, everyone,” Luca continues. “We’re going to the second level.”
    A parade of feet follows Luca up the stairs. With every step, the sensation of something being wrong is stronger. I can see the heads of seven recruits. One is missing. Razor . . . where is she?
    Panic seizes me. I’ve got to find her, and quickly. I go tearing down the stairs.
    â€œCaleb, where are you going?” Luca shouts from above.
    I don’t answer. He’s obviously not pleased that I’ve abandoned my post, but he’s the least of my worries. If Uncle finds out we’ve let a recruit escape, I’m the one he’s going to blame.
    As I take the stairs two at a time, I’m thinking,
That’s it, Razor’s gone.
She saw an opening and went for it. Who can blame her, really? She must have decided she could do better on the streets than at the Compound.
    In that case, I’d better make a good show of looking for her, because things will go worse for me if I don’t. I burst into the Yard and shout her name. No answer. I run back out and race to the Viewing Room. She’s not there either.
    At the top of the stairs leading to the basement, I stop to catch my breath. Should I go down? There’s nothing down there except for the boiler room. A noise makes me look up. The front door to the Compound is banging softly against its frame. It’s open.
    I swing the door open the rest of the way. Razor is lounging on the front steps, staring out into the street.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” I say. My fantasy of Razor’s bold escape from Uncle’s clutches evaporates.
    â€œWhat does it look like I’m doing?”
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œExactly,” she says. “You should try it sometime. Most times, I find doing nothing beats doing something. Especially if it’s the kind of something I don’t want to do.”
    I’m torn between screaming at her to run and dragging her back inside. But instead I count to ten and try to calm my breathing.
    Better. I walk down the steps and turn to face her.
    â€œYou weren’t joking, were you?” Razor says.
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œAbout this being the future and all,” she says.
    â€œNo, I wasn’t joking.”
    â€œAnd those kids in there were brought here, like me.”
    I nod.
    â€œAnd they’re gonna train us to go to the past and steal stuff?”
    I nod again.
    She stretches her legs out in front of her and yawns. “Well, I guess I’ll wait here, then.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” I ask.
    â€œI already know all about stealing. I don’t need more training.”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter if you think you need it or not,” I say. “Nothing here is optional. You’ve got to do what they tell you.”
    â€œThat wasn’t part of our deal,” she says.
    â€œWe didn’t have any deal,” I say too loudly. But she’s right. I fooled her to get her here. Maybe I didn’t lie to her outright, but I left out a few choice parts.
    She brings her legs up and rests her elbows on her knees. “Look, I get it, okay? You were just doing your job in grabbing me and taking me to this hole. I’d do the same in your shoes. The thing is, I ain’t in your shoes. I’m in mine. And my shoes are telling me to walk.”
    â€œSo what’s stopping you?”
    She doesn’t say anything for a long time. The only sounds are from the late-night traffic on Lafayette Street.
    â€œI lived in a place like this once,” she begins slowly, “all nice solid brick walls on the outside. It makes you wanna believe that the people inside are nice too.”
    I wait quietly for her to continue.
    She rolls up her right sleeve and traces a slim finger along a long scar that goes from the inside of her elbow to her wrist.