Michael Vey: The Prisoner of Cell 25 (Book 1)

Taylor shook with fear in the backseat of the utility van. Her head still ached, as did her hands, which were strapped in front of her with plastic ties. She felt as if she’d been drugged. A leather strap crossed at her waist, holding her tightly to the seat, and her legs were bound at her ankles with leather shackles fastened to the floor. The van appeared to have been designed for this very purpose—transporting prisoners. On top of her fear, she felt carsick and wondered if she might throw up.

It had all happened so fast. She had been at cheerleading practice for only a few minutes when she came down with an excruciating headache and had to sit down. After ten minutes Mrs. Shaw suggested she go home. That was when Taylor first noticed the scary-looking girl watching her from the gym door. At first she went outside and sat on the concrete steps waiting for Michael, hoping the pain would go away. She noticed that the scary girl followed her at a distance.

Then the pain got so severe that Taylor knew she couldn’t wait any longer, so she began walking home. She was crossing the school’s back parking lot when a white van pulled up beside her—the van she was held captive in. Taylor had thought the van was one of the school’s food-service vehicles, and she hadn’t paid much attention until it stopped, the side door swung open, and the scary-looking girl—the same girl who now sat in front of her—stepped out. Taylor’s first thought was Why is that girl wearing a dog collar? Her headache immediately intensified until she fell first to her knees, then to all fours, dizzy and disoriented.

“Take it easy!” someone shouted. Then a man got out from the front of the van and stood next to her. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t think so,” Taylor said.

“Let me give you a hand.”

Her head was spinning, and the buzzing in her ears was so loud that she didn’t resist the two men picking her up and carrying her inside the van, blindfolding her, and strapping her down to the backseat.

Then someone put something over her mouth and nose. That’s the last thing she remembered. She wondered if anyone had seen her being kidnapped and called the police. Maybe her father was coming for her right now. She desperately hoped so, but doubted it. The whole thing had taken less than thirty seconds. She had been taken without even a scream.

Heavy rock music played from the front of the van. Earlier, when Taylor woke, her captors were arguing over whether to listen to classic rock or rap. They flipped a coin to decide. Classic rock had won out, and Aerosmith was playing, adding to her headache.

The scary-looking girl sat alone on the bench in front of her. The girl was about her age, though a little shorter. She had short black spiky hair streaked with purple, black makeup, and she wore a black leather collar around her neck, studded with what looked like real diamonds. She had earbuds in both ears, the white cord running down her neck.

For the last hour Taylor had tried to reboot the driver, even though she knew it would likely result in crashing the van. A crash would, at least, draw outside attention, and she’d rather take her chances with an accident than with these people. But her attempts to reboot him were only met with pain—a sharp prick in her temples. Taylor decided to ignore the pain and try rebooting again with all her might. She pressed the thought, but the pain just grew. It was like sticking pins into her own head. She finally groaned out and stopped.

The girl in front of her turned around and removed one of the buds from her ear. “I’d tell you to stop doing that except it feels kind of good.”

“Doing what?” Taylor asked, her head still throbbing.

“Whatever it is that you do to people’s brains.”

Taylor looked at her. “How do you know what I’m doing?”

“I can feel it. But you’re wasting your time. It doesn’t hurt me and it won’t get past me.”

“Who are you?”

“Nichelle,” she said. “I’d shake your hand, but”—she paused and smiled—“you’re tied up.” Her smile fell into a dark glare. “Actually, I wouldn’t shake your hand anyway, and the better question is, what am I?”

“What are you?”

“I’m your worst nightmare. Just think of me as an electrical vampire. And girl, I could feed off you all day.” The girl put the earbud back in and turned around.

Taylor had never before felt so helpless or afraid. She thought of Michael and his mother waiting for her; she thought of her parents. They probably hadn’t noticed her absence yet, thinking that she’d gone with Michael and his mother. It wouldn’t be until late that evening that they started worrying. Her mother would be a wreck and her father would be following up on every resource available to a police officer, but by then she’d be long gone, maybe even out of the state. She wanted to be home with all of her heart.

“Why does my head hurt?”

“That’s me. Letting you know I’m here.” She smiled. “I can increase the pressure if you like.”

“No thank you.”

“I thought you might say that.” Nichelle turned completely around and looked into Taylor’s eyes. The pain started increasing, higher, then higher.

Taylor shouted out, “Stop. Please.”

The girl was enjoying herself. “Hurts, don’t it.”

Taylor’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes.”

The pain stopped. “See, I’m what an electrician would call a ground wire. I just soak up all those lovely powers of yours until we can get you to where you’re going.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. Don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“Why do I feel so sick?”

“Funny you should ask. The scientists at Elgen wondered that same thing. They think it’s because your body has become so used to high levels of electricity that you don’t feel normal without it. That’s what makes me so darn annoying.”

“Elgen? Are we going to the Elgen Academy?” Taylor asked.

“So you don’t want to be surprised, eh? Okay then, we’re going to the lah-bor-a-tory,” she said, purposely drawing out the word like she was a mad scientist. Taylor couldn’t tell if she was trying to sound comical or scary, but it didn’t matter. Either way, it was scary.

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Same thing scientists always do with lab animals—poke and prod around, and when they’re done, they’ll dissect you like a frog in a middle school biology class.”

Pure fear passed through Taylor. “Why? I haven’t done anything.”

Nichelle shrugged. “Why not?” She leaned back. “You ask too many questions. They’re hurting my ears. Like this…”

Suddenly a painful, high-pitched squeal tore through Taylor’s head. She started crying. “Stop it. Please, stop it.”

“Say ‘pretty please.’ ”

“Pretty please.”

“ ‘With a cherry on top.’ ”

Taylor sobbed. “With a cherry on top.”

Nichelle smiled. “Good girl.” The pain ceased. “Now, no more talking. You just be real quiet there, and in the future, should I ask you something, you will refer to me as ‘Master.’ You got that?”

Taylor just looked at her.

The girl’s eyes narrowed. “I asked you a question.”

Taylor’s head started filling with the noise. “Yes, Master.”

“Very good.”

Nichelle gave Taylor a big grin, turned back around, replaced the earbud, and lay back. “I love the abductions,” she muttered. “It’s the only time I can do whatever I want without getting in trouble. It’s been a long time since any fresh Glows have been brought in.”

A voice up front said, “Knock it off, Nichelle.”

She pulled out an earbud. “You’re no fun. It’s boring back here. I could make her bark like a dog or do something really embarrassing.”

“Just leave her alone.”

She turned around and said to Taylor, “These old dudes have no sense of humor. By the way, you should have seen what I did to that boy you led us to. Vey. He had a lot of electricity in him. Much more than usual. When I shut him down, I almost killed him. He’s probably still in the hospital.”

“You have Michael?”

“I can’t hear you,” she sang. She winked. “You didn’t say ‘Master.’ ”

“I’m sorry,” Taylor said quickly, afraid she might hurt her again. “You have Michael, Master?”

Nichelle smiled. “No. The little guy’s friend showed up and we had to go. But we’ll have him soon enough. We took a little insurance. You and his dearest mumsy.”

“You have Mrs. Vey, Master?”

“Yes, we do.”

A sharp voice came from the front. “Nichelle, just shut up.”

Nichelle leaned toward Taylor. “Now look what you did. You got me in trouble.” She turned back to the front. “Oh, chill. It’s not like she’ll ever get the chance to tell anyone.” She shook her head. “Idiots,” she said under her breath, once again replacing the earbud. “No more talking,” she said to Taylor. She leaned her head against the interior metal wall of the van.

Taylor tried to keep from crying. She was in pain and frightened. She wondered if what the girl had told her about the laboratory was true. Would they really cut her open? As frightened as she was to find out, she had to know. She leaned her head against the van’s wall to read Nichelle’s mind. She saw images of the school from the brochure, she saw other youths her age, some of them well dressed and laughing, and she knew Nichelle hated these kids. She saw something she didn’t understand—she saw herself at the school interacting with the other students as if it had already happened. Was she seeing the future? Then she saw other youths lying on the ground, some in pain, others crying in a dark place that looked like a dungeon. She sat back up, unable to continue. Everything she saw in Nichelle’s mind terrified her.