Elena paced back and forth in the motor home. Patrick sat on the couch, and Michelle stood by the kitchen table.

"Breathe, Elena," she said. "We're going to figure out what to do."

"What to do about what?" Patrick leaned back in the seat. "It's over, right?"

Michelle sighed. "Not so simple, Patrick. We're pretty sure they were lying about a lot of the things they told us."

"Like what?" He shifted in his seat.

Elena stopped in her tracks to face him. As much as she should have realized Michelle would catch the signs, she should have known that Patrick wouldn't. "Like that police officer was not actually an officer. It was just a costume."

"No kidding?"

Michelle winced. "Sam is special. They're not going to just let him go back into the foster care system."

"I mean, I guess that's good, but—"

"They're going to experiment on him!" Elena went back to pacing. "That plastic box they gave us, I think it was meant for detecting anomalies. I'm guessing the numbers stayed at 1.000's for you both?"

Michelle and Patrick nodded. "But wait." Patrick also stood. "If that's true, they've basically just kidnapped Sam."

Elena turned to Michelle. "We have to call the police. The real police."

Michelle squeezed her eyes shut and leaned against the table. "Elena, I agree about Sam being special, and I agree about the scientists lying, but I'm not sure that wasn't a real officer. Tech United is a multi-billion dollar corporation. They could easily have the police in their pockets."

"But—" Elena's breath caught in her throat. "Couldn't we just . . . we can't just let them keep him! Could we call a different police department?"

"Even if we could," Michelle said, "we're accomplices to kidnapping. And Tech United will certainly paint it that way, and in the end they'll twist our words and they'll get what they want anyway."

Elena forced herself to stop pacing. "Well, we have to do something!"

"We should, like—" Patrick slammed a fist into his open palm— "just get in there. Go in swinging if we have to. They kidnapped him, we kidnap him back."

"There's three of us, Patrick," Elena said.

"Well, do you have a better plan, genius?"

Elena flinched. "No, because I'm not going to suggest something inane that will land us all in prison or worse."

"Both of you, knock it off. I need to think this out." Michelle sat down at the table and rested her fingers on her temples, eyes closed.

Elena and Patrick exchanged a glance, then Elena slowly walked over to join her at the table, rested her chin in her hands, and closed her eyes also.

Michelle was right about the power of the corporation that had taken Sam. There would be no countering them by ordinary means, and even with the chance to present their case first, there was no way they'd come out on top after a discussion with the police department. If Tech United was willing to go against regulations, they must have had run-ins with law enforcement before. They'd have ways of covering their tracks, hiding their crimes, and making their accusers look crazy.

Then again, neither Michelle nor Elena had let on that they knew what Tech United was up to. They wouldn't expect the Camp Universe team to come back for Sam—as far as they knew, the team believed Sam was just being taken to foster care.

If that was the case, at least Patrick's plan had the advantage of surprise. Taking a high-security facility by storm would be insane, but maybe they could find a way to disguise themselves, gain access, and sneak in . . .

Elena squeezed her eyes shut tighter. That spy movie binge after finals week hadn't done her any favors. Even if there was a way to sneak in, too many of the employees had seen them. They'd be recognized before they made it past the first layer of security—whatever the security even was. She had taken a couple of coding classes, but that didn't put her in a place where she could hack into anything.

She let out her breath and opened her eyes. Michelle, across from her, kept her eyes closed; Patrick, behind her on the couch, stared off into space, his face in his hand.

"If one of us were on the inside," Patrick said, "we could run."

Elena raised one eyebrow and turned her chair so she could see both Michelle and Patrick. "That's a big maybe. And it would only work if we hadn't let on our suspicions."

Michelle shook her head. "It would be tough. We'd have to find a good moment, climb out through a window, and make a good run for it. A car waiting on the outside would help."

"But we're not on the inside," Patrick said. "Is there a way to tell Sam to come to us?"

Elena sighed. "He doesn't have a phone."

"If he had one, they'd have taken it by now." Michelle finally opened her eyes. "But if I could get in contact with him, I wouldn't tell advise him to try to run."

A brief pause, then Patrick asked, "Why not?"

Michelle bit her lip. "Because . . . if he tried to escape through the door of whatever room they're keeping him, he's going to run into security in the hallways. If he heads to a window—"

"Security cameras," Elena said. "Anywhere on the first story will have them. I see what you're saying, but—"

"Um, guys?" Patrick stood and walked over to the side of the camper, squinting through the glass. "You think they'll have security cameras on the windows on the upper floors?"

Elena let out a short laugh. "Probably not, but . . ."

Patrick still stared out the window.

"Come on, Patrick, you can't be serious."

He just pointed.

Elena gasped and ran to the window, closely followed by Michelle. A small figure hung from the window on the third story.

Michelle grabbed her keys from the table and ran toward the door. "I'm driving over there!"

Elena's heart pounded. "What are we supposed to do? He's about to fall!"

"Figure it out!" The door slammed shut.

Patrick grabbed her arm. "We've got to help him."

"Look who's a genius now. What do you suggest?"

"You're the one with the brilliant plans!"

Elena groaned. "I never said that! Well, um—" she dug her fingers into her hair and began to pace again, faster than before— "we tell him to go back inside."

"He was scared enough to climb out through the window, do you think we're going to be able to convince him to go back in?"

"Well, what's your idea?"

"I don't know! You're an engineer, break his fall!"

The engine started, and the motor home took off. Elena nearly lost her balance, and she felt herself beginning to hyperventilate. "Okay, okay. Grab the sheets from your bed. We'll make a trampoline and let him jump."

"Onto bedsheets? From the third story?"

"It's all I've got on short notice. It'll hurt, but it won't kill him." Elena ripped the cushions off the couch and pulled out the hide-a-bed. Patrick tore his blankets off the bed and pulled at the sheets.

"You sure he can't, like, fly? Science doesn't work for him."

Elena rolled her eyes. "It's light. Light physics don't work on him. Gravity works fine." Which meant the bowling ball pendulum would have worked fine. She didn't have to step in. They probably wouldn't have been in this mess if she had just minded her own business

For a moment, that thought was enough to stop her in her tracks. Maybe this was a case like that—interfering when she didn't need to.

Elena glanced out of the window. Sam had slipped down a little further and was now dangling by just his hands. Now wasn't the time to be having doubts about whether she should help.

A squealing of the brakes, and Elena stumbled forward a few steps. "Come on, let's go." She darted out the front door, closely followed by Patrick, who took the other side of the sheet. "Sam!" she cried.

His curly red hair remained facing them.

"Sam, can you hear me?" Michelle's much louder voice called.

His little face turned toward them. His cheeks glittered in the sunlight, tears still flowing.

"You have to go back in!" Elena cried. "You have to—"

Patrick nudged her in the ribs. "Sam, jump!"

"I can't!" He screamed as one of his hands slipped.

Elena gestured to Patrick, and they held out the sheet, as taut and high as they could. "Then fall," she choked out.

There was no way he could have heard her, and no way he could have chosen to disobey. He dropped faster than she had imagined—movies always showed people falling in slow motion, and some part of her mind couldn't help but expect that. He fell hard onto the sheet—one side ripped out of her hand. He tumbled onto the concrete, but the sheet had been enough to slow his fall, and his head was the last to reach the ground.

"Sam!" Elena knelt down to him.

He was silent, but rolled onto his back.

"Guys, we have to run." Patrick pointed up at the top window, where several people were peeking out to look and point at them.

Elena put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "We can't run! We'll be kidnappers."

"We can't let him stay!"

"I know, I know . . ." Elena looked up at Michelle, who pressed her lips together and nodded. "Okay. Hurry. Careful."

They picked up the two sides of the sheet, carrying a groaning Sam along with them up into the camper as Michelle ran to the driver's compartment. The door wasn't quite closed behind them when the motor home took off, and Elena stumbled backwards, falling partway through the door as the camper sped off.

"Ah!" A firm hand grasped one of her ankles, then the other. She lifted her head so it wouldn't hit the concrete, and forced herself to open her eyes. Behind them in the parking lot they were speeding through, two police officers raced into their cars. "Pull me in, they're catching up!"

The force on her ankles increased—she winced—until she could reach the inner rim of the doorway and pull herself up. Patrick slammed the door shut behind her, and she laid panting on the carpet.

"Thank you," she muttered.

"Don't mention it."

A bump in the road jostled them to the floor, and Sam, mostly covered by the sheet, let out a whimper. Elena crawled over to unfold the sheet. One side of the same arm that had been injured that morning—was it really only that morning? It seemed like ages— was scraped all the way down, and his jeans were ripped all the way through on the same side. Blood seeped through the tears in the fabric.

"Sam, can you look at me? Did you hit your head?"

He winced as he sat up, and squinted as he looked into her face. "Where are we going?"

"We're getting away from the bad guys. Where does it hurt?"

He sniffled and gestured all down the scrapes. "It really hurts."

"Dude." Patrick grinned. "You just survived jumping out of a building. That was awesome."

Sam smiled, and Elena let her breath out.