Free Lab 6 by Peter Lerangis Page A

under a lopsided, sun-bleached sign that bore the faint words BLUE MOUNTAIN INDUSTRIAL PARK .
    The setting sun made black holes of the alleyways that snaked between the old brick buildings. Sam’s footsteps tapped flatly against the cracked blacktop. Wary eyes glared at him as he passed makeshift shelters of old planks and cardboard boxes piled against the walls at the edges of the street-lamp light.
    Where is it?
    He hadn’t been to the Turing-Douglas Research Labs in a long time. Not since he was a kid. But it would be a perfect hiding place.
    Down Front Street, then right on Second.
    The memories bubbled up through his panic. Coming to this neighborhood with his parents when he was a kid, night after night. The dank, stuffy labs where Mom and Dad told him to do his homework while they worked. The electronic equipment that loomed over him, beeping and burbling while he tried to concentrate but never could, because of that feeling, that weird feeling —
    There.
    As he rounded a corner he spotted the familiar rotting truck dock. The grimy, graffiti-covered tan-brick walls.
    The windows of the building were dark. Maybe his mom and dad had already gone.
    Just my luck.
    On a normal night, they were there until midnight. Lately they’d been working on another “special government project.” Sam was beginning to think there weren’t really any government projects. It was an excuse to get away from him. They just liked being scientists more than being parents.
    Where are they when I need them?
    The front door was locked. Sam raced around to the east side of the building. In the deepening darkness, he ducked into a basement stairwell.
    Something rustled from below. A small shadow scampered out of the stairwell and into the night.
    Sam jumped, stifling a scream. His head banged against a cement overhang.
    For a moment, everything went black. Sam crumpled to the ground.
    Then he picked himself up, staggering slowly down the steps.
    At the bottom, near a grime-caked basement window, he crouched and waited.
    “HUGHES! I’M GOING TO GET YOU!”
    Bart.
    Near. Maybe thirty yards away.
    The footsteps grew louder. They began circling the building, then suddenly stopped.
    “AAAAAGH!” Jamie shrieked. “Rats!”
    Stay put.
    Just stay put.
    “They’re just animals .” Bart’s voice was calm, mocking.
    But Jamie was already booking.
    A moment later, so was Bart the Brave.
    Their footsteps retreated into silence. Now the only sounds were the rustling leaves and Sam’s dry, raspy breaths.
    Safe.
    For now, at least.
    He felt his swollen jaw. It ached badly. He was bleeding a little.
    Sam stood, bracing himself against the sides of the stairwell.
    The bump was worse than he’d thought.
    His head felt strange. As if it were expanding. As if he had to hold on to it, just to keep it intact.
    And he remembered.
    “Mom, can we go-o-o-o?”
    “Have you finished your homework, dear?”
    “I have a headache!”
    “Now, Sam, why does it seem you always have a headache when you have to do homework?”
    He’d had headaches a lot when he was a child. Bad ones. Just like this one — as if his head were about to explode.
    It’s this place. It brings out the worst in me.
    As Sam climbed the stairs, a sudden throb pushed against the inside of his skull.
    His knees buckled. He clutched the rusted banister.
    Do. Not. Make. Noise.
    Just go.
    This was a bad one. A migraine, maybe. He must have really smacked the overhang hard.
    Grimacing, he took another step.
    The darkness gave way to a volcano of white, green, and red. As if the world had ignited.
    He knew he wouldn’t make it home. Not by himself.
    Not even to the top of the stairs.
    Help me.
    HELP ME!
    “Help me …”
    Sam jumped.
    For a moment the pain retracted.
    The voice had come from below him.
    From behind the basement window.

I’m fading.
    You always knew this would happen again.
    Are you prepared?
        For what?
    For return.

2
    “H ELLO?” S AM’S VOICE WAS barely