The Limit (11 page)

SINCE THE GYM WAS OUT, WE ENDED
up in the pool.

Coop let out a whoop as he ran
the length of the diving board and
gave it a big bounce.

“Cannonball!” he yelled, tucking his knees tight to his chest. He got some good air, then broke the surface of the water with a giant splash. Waves rippled out from where he landed and ran the length of the pool, reaching Jeffery at the other end. Jeffery was kneeling on a big, round, inflatable floating island. He looked up to glare at Coop’s bobbing head until it went back under.

My turn. I decided to go for style instead of air and added a flip to my jump.

Swhoomp.

The water enveloped me. By the time I came back up, Coop had swum down by Jeffery and busied himself torturing the poor kid. Coop twirled the floating island around in circles while Jeffery tried to splash
him with a paddle. I dove underwater and dolphin-swam half the length of the pool. Without surfacing, I grabbed Coop’s legs and yanked him under.

He fought back. Jeffery splashed us with his paddle from on top of his island, but soon we pulled him in too. The three of us dunked, wrestled, and splashed one another until Jeffery called for mercy.

With the battle over, Coop swam to the deep end and did chin-ups off the edge of the diving board. Jeffery found his paddle, climbed out of the pool, and jumped back on his island. The island was so big he could’ve lain on his back with his arms and legs spread-eagled and still not have touched the edges. He paddled furiously but only succeeded in spinning himself in circles.

“I haven’t seen this before.” I gave the island a push in the opposite direction.

“It’s new.” He paddled harder, to make up for my push, I guess. He rose tall on his knees and wobbled as he tried to keep his balance.

Leaning my elbows on the edge of the thick island, I went along for the slow, spinning ride. “Hey, you know what would be fun?”

“If you left me alone?” he asked with plenty of venom.

“No, really. Let me show you.” Swinging one leg over the top, I clawed my way up. My side of the island sank into the water, but it was so thick the top edge never
came close to getting wet. The jostling sent Jeffery over the edge and into the water.

“Oops. Sorry,” I said when his snarling face emerged. “Check this out, though.” I staggered to my feet, my arms flapping to keep my balance.

“Go, bro!” Coop’s loud voice echoed through the large space, coming from the top of the slide. “You’re still lame compared to me!” He pushed off and down the twisting slide, headfirst and on his back.

A shock of cold shot through my body as a wet hand latched onto my ankle.

“Get off!” Jeffery yelled. Balance instantly became more of a challenge.

“Hi-yah!” Coop burst out of the water, heaving the top half of his body onto the island and grabbing my other leg.

Yeah, this was getting interesting.

“Whoa! Hey!” The struggle lasted a total of five seconds, ending with me in the water. By the time I came up for air, Jeffery had reclaimed his island, standing tall like I had and holding his paddle in front of him like a sword.

If only I had an island and a paddle of my own, I’d take Jeffery on. Hey . . . that could be fun.

I made the other two shut up for a minute and told them my idea. It would be like jousting on water—with two islands, two paddles, and two guys going at it.

“That could hurt,” Jeffery said, rubbing his arm as if he’d already been smacked.

“Suck it up, little cuz,” said Coop.

“We could pad the paddles—with blankets or something,” I said.

Jeffery’s eyes lit up. I could tell because he didn’t wear his glasses in the pool. “A kayak paddle,” he said.

“Yeah!” I said. “Padded on both ends. This is going to be awesome!”

Jeffery bounced on his island, like a little kid ready to go see what Santa had left in his stocking. “Can I figure out the padding? I’ll buy all the blankets and rope or whatever. I’ll take care of it all. Can I?”

Coop and I struggled to keep from bursting out laughing at his enthusiasm.

“Sure,” I said.

“More boxes, Jeffery,” I said as the three of us walked down the hall to our rooms. None of us had felt like staying in the pool. It wouldn’t be any fun until our jousting equipment arrived.

He opened his door and kicked the small boxes inside.

“Careful!” I said. “It looks like electronics.”

Jeffery’s glasses kept slipping down his wet nose, and he had to constantly push them back up.
“You guys be sure to order express delivery. Okay? Overnight, if you can.”

“Okay, bro,” said Coop, opening his door.

Jeffery’s door closed behind him. Before I got to my door, Jeffery’s opened again. “Don’t forget!”

“We won’t!” I said.

“Chill, dude. We’re Top Floors, you know. I think we can remember.” Coop slipped inside his room.

With water dripping from my hair down my shoulders and back, my fingers flew over my keyboard. In less than a minute I’d located a site that sold islands like Jeffery’s. I’d volunteered to order the second island, and Coop was in charge of getting two kayak paddles. I scrolled around and found an island in black and red—warrior colors. I was going to cream the poor little guy and his sky-blue and white island.

As I punched keys to complete the order, a laser shot out and scanned my eye. Just part of the process. It happened every day when I ordered my meals. It identified me and let them know where to send the merchandise.
Oops. Almost forgot. Jeffery would have had a fit.
I clicked on the express-shipping icon.

A line of letters in fine blue print appeared on the bottom of the screen.
Be aware that an additional express shipping fee will be charged to your account.

My next breath stuck in my throat. My account.
My family’s account. That was the whole reason I was here, but I hadn’t given it a second thought since I’d arrived on the top floor. I’d assumed the food and clothes I ordered were covered by the FDRA, like a complete room and board package. Until today I’d never ordered anything off any site other than the links on this workhouse’s main page. The links connected us to stores and restaurants located close by, so we could get our clothes fast and our meals hot.

I’d never had a reason to order anything off-site before. I hadn’t been able to think of anything I wanted that wasn’t already provided for me here—we had all the latest video games and movies. We could set up the gym for any sport we felt like playing—although Coop always chose paddle-wall-ball. Any piece of sports equipment we could dream of was already stored in a long closet off the gym.

I clicked the button to accept the additional shipping charge. I’d been working hard here and deserved something for my efforts. I wouldn’t go crazy, though. I wouldn’t buy a ton of designer clothes or collectible spaceship models or massive amounts of electronics. I still wanted to go home. Eventually.

My fingers tapped the keyboard, too light to do anything. There was something else I was going to do today—what was it? Oh, yeah! Hack for the headache data. Once I downloaded it, I could whip up a statistical analysis. . . .

Bam! Bam! Bam!

“Dude, quick! Reginald is on the loose.”

I flew out of my chair and practically ripped the door off its hinges.

Coop was already at the other end of the hall, pointing at the first bedroom. “It’s open and dark inside, and he’s not there!” I didn’t even slow down when I got to him. “His cubie is empty too. I noticed when I went to check out the gym—to see if the loser space movie wrapped up early.”

I only paused for half a second. He was right. The sliding glass door stood open wide.

We raced down the row of cubicles and burst into the pool room. Empty. Jeffery’s island stood in a corner, propped against the wall. Not even a ripple disturbed the water.

Out of the pool room. Through the cubicle room. Into the gym.

“Ahhhhhh!” Kia’s scream was so high and loud we actually winced and covered our ears. “What are you idiots doing?”

“You just messed up our big chase scene!” Isaac’s footsteps thundered in the nearly pitch-black
gym, closing in on us.

“Sorry,” I said, backing through the doorway fast.

“Downshift already, man,” said Coop.

“Hey, is Reginald in here with you?” I had to ask.

“Reginald?” That took Isaac by surprise and made him stop and think. Not for long, though. “Of course not, you black-hole brains! What’s wrong with you? I’m going to blast you into the eighteenth sector!”

We closed the door and sprinted toward the other end of the floor.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Coop said as I reached for the doorknob. “No way will I believe we’ll find Reginald in the girls’ dance room, wearing a tutu and standing on his tippy-toes.”

I took a quick glance inside anyway. The lights were on, but nobody was dancing.

Next we did a quick scan of the rec room—Madeline was yakking Paige’s head off as they painted their toenails and watched a movie. We circled the cubicles one more time. No Reginald anywhere.

“He’s messing with us,” I said as we checked every one of the boys’ bedrooms, even mine and the empty one next to it. “Watching us and keeping himself just around the corner.”

“The girls’ rooms.” Firm, determined lines hardened Coop’s face. “It’s the only possibility.”

I looked up and around, imagining the gorilla guards
watching us that very moment. “We can’t . . . can we?”

“Won’t know until we try.” He slapped me with the back of his hand and we took off. “We gotta be quick about it.”

We weren’t quick enough. We skipped Neela’s room—first girls’ cubicle, first girls’ room—because we knew she was in there feeling sick. We’d just finished a quick peek into Kia’s room and were heading toward Madeline’s when two giant hands clamped down on our shoulders.

“Uh, hi?” I said, turning to look up into the angry eyes of a blond Gorilla Clone guard.

Without a word—but with lots of pressure on our shoulders—he turned us around and marched us out of that hall. Once in the cubicle room, he shoved us forward, making us stumble a few steps.

Coop and I headed back to our bedrooms, each of us rubbing a shoulder. We stopped short the second we stepped into the boys’ hallway. Reginald’s door was closed tight. From inside came that familiar, steady metallic clanging. Shoot. We should have at least taken a look inside his room when we’d had the chance.

Who was this guy? Was he for real? I was beginning to think he could move around the top floor without being detected, like a mist or a ghost. And what the heck was he doing in that room of his?

SEVERAL TRAYS WITH NUMEROUS
empty plates, covers, and utensils sat on the ground outside of Reginald’s tightly sealed cubicle. I kicked them softly as I walked by. The wild goose chase he’d sent me on last night had made me forget about my hacking project until it was too close to lights-out.

The remnants of sausage, bacon, eggs—both scrambled and fried—and steak shifted on Reginald’s breakfast plates, making me picture those trays coming in, overflowing with fat and protein. I shifted a few plates with my foot to get a better look. Man, this guy hadn’t ordered a speck of granola or even one tiny grape. Just thinking about it made my stomach heavy.

“No!” A panicked female wail made me jump. “No, no, no!” My heart slowed back down fast. Sounded like Madeline. She’d probably just discovered her socks didn’t perfectly match the rest of her outfit. “Where is she?” Madeline’s voice took on a
new level of fear and intensity as she burst into the cubicle room. “She can’t be gone. It’s not possible!”

Coop emerged from the hallway. “Hey, yo, bro, what’s up?”

Shrugging, I followed him around to the girls’ side. We found Madeline inside Neela’s cubicle ripping open drawers and slamming them shut again. A white-faced Paige stood outside the cubicle, gripping the edge of the cloth-covered wall with both hands while she watched Madeline’s fit and sobbing much quieter tears of her own.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Where’s Neela?”

“That’s just it.” Madeline gave Neela’s chair a kick that sent it crashing against the wall. “They took her. She’s gone!”

“Gone where?” Once you get taken to the workhouse, is there anyplace else to go?

“I don’t know,” Madeline wailed.

“I just . . .” Paige, speaking in a much softer voice, paused to sniff. “I knocked on her door after breakfast . . . and she wasn’t there.”

“She came and got me right away, of course. And now look at this!” Madeline grabbed onto the back of Neela’s chair and gave it a good shake. “They’ve emptied out her room and clean-sweeped her cubicle.” She threw her arms out and stared at the ceiling, maybe looking into a security camera. “What have they done with her?”

“People come and go from the top floor all the time.”

All of us froze. Honey Lady’s smooth, calm voice behind us was not what we’d expected.

Madeline ran over and threw her arms around her. “Miss Smoot, where is she? What happened to her?”

Honey Lady gave Madeline’s back three quick, efficient pats. “You’re just witnessing FDO 169-D in action. The workhouse did exactly what it was supposed to do.” She sprinkled her calm, confident words over our heads like powdered sugar. “You all know your work here is what will eventually get your families back under their limits and get you back home where you belong. Right?”