Never Sleep Page 5

  “A contact of mine from another Clinic gave this to me to pass on. I wasn’t sure whether or not I should give it to you. But after what’s happened and what’s going to happen, I don’t know…I think it’s time for things to change. At least for you.”

  Drumbeats pound in my ears as he places the paper in my hands. “Who’s it from?”

  “You’ll see.” He takes two steps away from me, crosses the hall to Odin’s room. “Read it. I’ll get Odin.”

  I fold back the edges of the paper with eager, shaking fingers and let my eyes trip down the page.

  Thora, I sure hope you get this. I’m done with the Clinic. There’s more going on here than some stupid insomniac treatment thing, and I have to get out. It’s driving me insane. I’ve found someone who’s gonna help me escape. Remember what I told you about the Insomniac Cafe? Well, that goes down every Saturday this month. It all kicks off in Union Square. If you can find a way out of the Clinic, do it. You’re not safe. Neither is Odin (please bring him, too!). Get out and find me in New York. You know the drill—follow the clues throughout the city to find our new home. Your partner in crime, Gemma. P.S. Never let them break you.

  “Whoa, what?” I re-read the note and try to smear the look of shock off my face. Gemma. The Insomniac Cafe. A place where people on-the-run with our condition live together in seclusion, tired of getting tested on by the Clinic. I suck in a sharp breath. She always said they know what’s really wrong with us, that they have some sort of cure for our insomnia.

  And then, it all clicks together, and I hate my brain is so foggy I couldn’t piece it all together before. For some reason, Doctor Jeremy is breaking me and Odin out of here so we can go and find Gemma. So we can find the Insomniac Cafe.

  “What’s going on?” Odin asks when he appears in the hall beside me. Silently, I hand him the note, and the three of us head down the hall away from the Emergency Treatment Room as fast as we can move our feet.

  As Odin reads the note from Gemma, I try to make stride with Doctor Jeremy. I find this past night’s rest and break from the Polysomnography has given me a little of my dying energy back. While I’m nowhere near strong, at least I’m not as weak as I was.

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask the Doc when we turn into another wing of the Clinic, almost at a run. “Won’t you get in trouble?”

  “I may.”

  He says no more. I think about the look on Doctor Clark’s face when he realizes we’ve disappeared, how his arrogance will waver when he must tell our parents he’s lost us. I frown. No matter how they’ve made me feel, I know they’ll be upset when they find out we’re gone, but I also know it’s impossible for us to go home to them or even tell them what we’re doing. They’d only bring us back.

  We reach the end of the wing and stop at the back exit door. It’s barred by a high-tech security keypad, one Odin and I have tried to get through on numerous occasions and always failed. Doctor Jeremy crouches in front of us just as Odin is folding the note from Gemma.

  “Does this mean what I think it means?” Odin’s pale eyes have lit up, and I know it’s as much for a hope of seeing Gemma as it is for a realized escape path. Maybe even more.

  “It does.” Doctor Jeremy’s eyes grow serious. “Now listen. This place isn’t what you think it is, and I’m not what you think I am.” He holds up his hand to stop me when I try to speak. “Let me finish. I don’t know the full details of what’s going on here, and what I do know will take far too long to explain with the time we have. What you need to know is I’m part of a special forces task team. I may be a psychiatrist, but my real employer is not this Clinic, and I can’t tell you who it really is.”

  My mind races, flitting from thought to thought too quickly for me to grasp onto a single one. As much as I knew something else was going on behind the scenes here, what Doctor Jeremy says makes no sense. A special forces task team? I never thought he of all people would be so entrenched in it all.

  “We’ve been investigating the Clinic for about a year now, and one of my colleagues stationed at another branch has finally found the information we’ve been looking for. Confirmation of what we’ve suspected, basically. No, I don’t know exactly what he found, but I’m afraid that means the larger, armed team will be making a move on this place soon. On all the Clinics in this country.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?” Odin says. “If they’re doing something wrong, then they’ll be shut down?”

  “No, I’m afraid not.” Doctor Jeremy’s face droops, the lines on his face aging him ten years older than he usually looks. “The task force plans on taking you and the other long-term patients into custody. You aren’t safe here anymore, and I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you because I sat aside and did nothing. No matter the consequences.”

  “Take us?” I ask in a gasp, not sure if he’s talking about the FBI, the CIA or something else entirely. “Into custody?”

  “You’ll be safe with the people at the Insomniac Cafe.” He takes my hands into his. They are soft, calloused and warm. “Find them, Thora. They’ll have all the answers I can’t explain, and if the rumors are true, they can help you sleep.”

  “What about Thora?” Odin asks. “She’s weak. She can’t going running around the city.”

  “I’m stronger than you think,” I say quietly, but secretly I’m worried about my stamina, too. Balls of adrenaline have taken solid shape in my body, but I don’t know how long it will last me before I give out.

  Doctor Jeremy nods. “Odin, you’ll have take care of her.” He pushes another slip of paper into my hands. “If you start to feel close to a Collapse, call this number immediately, and I will make sure you are taken care of.”

  “Okay,” I say, pocketing the number in my jeans.

  “And be careful. Doctor Clark will have people out there looking for you.” He shakes his head, regret dousing out that fire in his eyes. “I hate to send you out alone, but I don’t know what else to do. It’s your best chance at safety. It’s your best chance to start a normal life.”

  The Doc cuts himself off, turns and quickly taps in the security number on the keypad. The door buzzes as it unlocks, and he pushes it open so that the dawn light streams into the quiet, empty hall of the Clinic. The Clinic we are about to leave, hopefully forever.

  “Go straight out the back, through the woods and stop at the highway. A friend of mine will be waiting there for you.” He runs his hands over his buzz-cut hair. “He doesn’t know details, so don’t tell him what’s going on. I told him a couple of kids I know need a ride into the city. This is the only way I knew how to do it. He’s someone they probably won’t trace.”

  Without even thinking, I rush forward and wrap my arms around Doctor Jeremy’s waist in a tight hug. I bury my face in his chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  He wraps his strong arms around me, pulling me close. “You’re welcome, Thora.” Extracting me from him, he gives me a small push toward the open door. “Now go on. You need to put distance between yourselves and this place.”

  “Thank you,” Odin says before disappearing out into the world.

  I turn to go, but I’m stopped by Doctor Jeremy’s heavy hand on my shoulder.

  “I almost forgot something.” He digs into his back pocket and extracts the white king chess piece, and I can’t help but smile at the sight of it. He has drilled a hole in the cross on the top, looped a thin, glittering steel chain through it. “I don’t like to encourage your attachments too much, but you might need this.”

  “Wow.” I lean my head down as he places the necklace chain around my neck. The king falls to the center of my chest, a heavy weight that somehow makes me feel anchored, sturdy. My hand slips around the familiar piece, and I let my adrenaline carry my feet toward the door with a new determination.

  Just as I’ve taken a single step outside, I shoot one last glance over my shoulder at Doctor Jeremy watching us go. And then the door shuts behind me, blocking out the
familiar sight of Clinic halls. I am out in the open air for the first time in over three months. I blink at the brightness even though the sun has barely risen in the morning sky, but I don’t care because the air is crisp and clear and fresh, not stale and lukewarm at all.

  Odin grabs my hand. “Come on. We should hurry. Just in case.”

  The two of us duck into the trees at the back of the building and step carefully through the overgrown underbrush. A few moments later, we reach the other side of the small forest, the highway stretching out for miles on each side. Several cars zoom past before we notice a single white sedan idling on the curb.

  A window rolls down to reveal a thirty-something man suited up for work. “You kids the friends of Jeremy?” His dark brown eyes flick over us, finally resting on our slippers.

  “We’re heading into the City,” Odin says. “He said you could give us a lift?”

  “Sure, sure. I work in the City.” He frowns. “Where are your parents?”

  Odin and I exchange glances. I hadn’t expected someone who would ask any questions. I pick at the hem of my shirt, hoping this guy won’t call the cops on us, thinking it’s for our own good.

  “They kicked us out,” I say. The truth, sort of. We were dropped into a Clinic, and our parents said we couldn’t come home until we’re cured.

  The man sighs and closes his eyes. “Why are you going to Manhattan?”

  “We have friends there. I thought Jeremy explained,” Odin says. “They’re going to let us stay with them for awhile.”

  He shakes his head, but then I hear the click of the doors unlock. “Get in. I’ll drop you off in Midtown.”

  I smile in relief at Odin, open the backseat door and slide into the car. He hops into the front, and we are off, speeding down the highway, away from the Clinic, away from Doctor Clark, away from tests and away from whatever is about to happen in there. Soon, we’ll be in Manhattan. The city that never sleeps.

  Seven

  Recurrent nightmares suggest significant emotional instability.

  - The Chronic Insomnia Handbook for Patients

  We’re here.”

  The city lights of Times Square pulse to the beat of the music seeping out of Kevin’s car speakers, matching the errant thumping of my heart as I crane my neck to see the tourists cramming the sidewalks, the Broadway signs lighting up the sky, the buildings climbing into the clouds.

  “Where do your friends live?” Kevin asks, who I now know works for a court reporting company as a stenographer, who loves Pearl Jam and who hates commuting to and from the city every workday. He still doesn’t know about me and Odin. He especially doesn’t know about our sleep condition.

  “Union Square,” Odin says. From the backseat, I can see his shoulders are as tense as ever, but he’s put on a good show of being a normal teenage boy.

  Kevin flicks his blinker and battles with a taxi for the righthand lane. “And do you have a way to get downtown? Any money?”

  “Er…no.” I shift in my seat, realizing how much we didn’t consider when rushing out that Clinic back door. We have no money, no phone, nothing. If anything at all goes wrong, we’ll be shit out of luck. If I start to feel faint again…who knows if Doctor Jeremy can really get help for me in time.

  “I figured as much. I have enough time to drop you guys off in Union Square,” he says. “Also, go ahead and look in the glove compartment. There should be an extra MetroCard in there. I don’t know how much money it has on it, but it’s better than nothing. They’ll be several twenties in there for you, too. At Jeremy’s request.”

  “Wow, thanks man,” Odin says, rustling through the glove compartment and extracting said MetroCard and cash. I’m glad Doctor Jeremy thought at least a little bit ahead.

  Odin reaches one arm over his shoulder, brandishing the MetroCard at me. “Here, you hold on to this. I’ll hold on to the cash.”

  “Hey, now,” I say. “I’d rather have the cash.”

  “I know.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “That’s why I’m holding on to it. So, you don’t go blowing it all on one massive pizza buffet.”

  A few minutes and taxi battles later, Kevin pulls the car to a curb just on the outskirts of Union Square. He flicks off the ignition and turns to shoot me a serious gaze before moving on to Odin.

  “I know there’s more to your story than you’ve told me,” he says. “But I also know you won’t tell me what it is. Just be careful, keep each other safe and don’t make me regret this. If I see something on the news about a pair of redhead teenage siblings, I don’t think I could ever forgive myself.”

  “I would never let something happen to my sister.” Odin’s voice holds so much conviction, even I believe him, though he wasn’t able to stop our parents from sending me to the Clinic or prevent Doctor Clark from torturing me with sleep terror tests every night.

  Kevin nods. “Good luck.”

  Odin and I step out of the car and watch Kevin angle away from the curb and drive off into the Manhattan morning traffic. We stand on the sidewalk, pedestrians streaming past us on all sides. My head pounds, and my lungs ache, but at least we are one step closer to finding the Insomniac Cafe and Gemma. And a cure.

  “Come on, kid sister,” Odin says, tossing an arm around me and steering me toward the park, a square squat of green amidst the towering iron and steel. “Let’s find Gemma.” He smiles and points to the sky, to the sun. “Doctor Demon would shit himself if he knew we were spending the day outside, in the City of all places.”

  But I don’t even wonder at what Doctor Clark would think as I gaze around me. After months spent locked up inside, I can’t believe we’re actually here.

  ***

  The world blurs by and suddenly it is seven p.m. Odin has let me rest in order to store up my energy for tonight. There’s been no sign of Gemma all day. A small bulb of worry blooms in the back of my mind when I think about it, but I try to bury it under an avalanche of hope.

  Odin pushes himself up from the grass, from underneath the tree where we settled into the corners of the park hours ago. It seems like I’ve only been staring at the shapes of clouds for moments, with the bright sky morphing into inky dark blue. Hours and days always slip by for me. It’s like my mind cannot grasp onto time.

  “So, what do we do now?” I have no idea what’s next. I’m not sure what I expected. Some flashing arrow to point us the way. Someone to stroll up and tell us where to go next. Gemma to bounce out of the shadows in pointy black heels. I step off the grass and onto the sidewalk that winds through the heart of the park. “Gemma always said around seven, it all starts going down. To look out for stuff and follow the clues…whatever that means.”

  “Wait.” Odin motions me back to the tree. “We have to be careful. Remember what Doctor Jeremy said? There will people here looking for insomniacs.”

  My eyes dart through the park. “Wait. Do you think that’s what we overhead Doctor Clark talking about in his office yesterday? About the Cafe and tonight?”

  Odin nods. “Could be.”

  I cringe and glance around, searching for the enemy in the deepening shadows. They could be anywhere. There are so many people in this small corner of the city, it would be hard to notice who might be searching for people like us. At the same time, maybe if Odin and I blend into the crowd, we won’t stand out for them to notice us either.

  “Why do you think we haven’t seen Gemma yet?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm and steady so the people around us don’t clock on to my bubbling emotions. “You don’t think…they got her?”

  “No way.” Odin crosses his arms as he scans the crowd. “She’s too smart. She may have seen something and went into hiding.”

  I’m not sure if I believe that, but I don’t want to cause Odin any unnecessary worry right now…not when he has to bother with me.

  We move down the sidewalk, past the fenced-in dog run and to the edges of the park where clusters of artist booths and city trinket stands have set up shop. The squ
are is a constant blur of motion. Yellow taxis streak by under the shadow of towering buildings. Dogs trot along the sidewalk, leashed to their jogging owners. College kids laze about on the wide, curving steps. It’s hard to concentrate on any one thing when there are a hundred tiny moments happening at once.

  Odin and I shift our way through the crowd, bumping elbows and shoulders and shopping bags. A cool breeze flutters my jagged red bangs once I step out of the mass; strands fall in my eyes. I don’t bother to swipe them aside when a random stranger catches my eye. I peer through moving bodies to see a skinny guy shoving yellow fliers into every passerby’s fingers.

  “Having trouble sleeping?” he calls out to a twenty-something woman on a mission, her heels clapping hard on the pavement. He shoves the flier into her hands, the yellow flashing bright under the streetlamps.

  My chest pangs as my heart rate doubles. “Odin?”

  “Yeah, I heard it,” he says.

  “What do we do?” My feet are as concrete as the sidewalk they stand on. I want nothing more than to move forward, but I imagine every person who passes by is watching and waiting for us to make the wrong move. For us to go for the flier. To confirm exactly what we are.

  “Well, we need that flier.” He moves in front of me, silver eyes flicking in every direction. “We need to stay cool about it though. Walk by, grab the flier, keep moving like it’s nothing we’re interested in.”

  I suck in a breath and nod. I try to ignore the twinge my heart makes.

  As Odin and I move forward at a pace to match the other New Yorkers, knots curl and uncurl in my stomach, twisting and turning and squeezing and curling. I desperately hope we’ve become one with the crowd and that if any of those black-clad guys from the Clinic are out there watching, their gaze will move right past us. It’s not like Doctor Clark himself is here. I hope.

  One hurried step after another and we are striding past the flier boy. The sidewalk around us is littered in a confetti of yellow as the papers slip from fingers and flutter to the pavement.