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Escape to Eden

Page 7

by Rachel McClellan


  “Is that what I’m going to have to do? Become emotionally dead? If that’s what you are, then you’re already dead.” I turn around and catch Anthony with his mouth open. “When are you meeting Bram?” I ask.

  “I have to call him first and let him know about your father. It complicates things.”

  Jenna drops into a nearby chair, still touching her cheek where I slapped her. It’s bright red. “Her father? Why would Bram care?”

  “Howard Edmonds is her father,” Anthony says and positions the earpiece behind his ear again.

  “William Radkey,” I clarify, but no one notices.

  Jenna slowly turns to Colt, her eyes big. “The Howard Edmonds?”

  “Not now, Jenna,” Anthony says in a warning tone.

  “But this is huge!”

  “I said later.” His voice is firm and Jenna doesn’t argue. “I have to make that call.”

  Anthony walks into the office and closes the door.

  Jenna eyes Colt for several seconds like she’s itching to say something, but then she turns to me. “So apparently you’ve got your memory back. What’s that like?”

  She doesn’t call me Patch or anything else, which is nice for a change, but her voice still reeks of sarcasm.

  I think of all that I remember. Only one word comes to mind.

  “Painful.”

  My gaze meets Colt’s. This time it’s him who looks away.

  “More emotions. You’re boring me.” Jenna stands and goes into the kitchen, muttering under her breath.

  I don’t get upset. I have more important things to do, like trying to save Max. I sit in the chair Jenna’s just left, my knee bouncing. There must be something I can do. I imagine the layout of the Institute. I know it inside and out because my father had me memorize it every week for the last year. In case. He had me learn a lot of things. In case. His lessons were grueling, almost cruel, especially after my mother. Things would’ve been so different if she were still alive.

  “Tell me about your childhood,” Colt says suddenly. His eyes are a softer blue, like the color of the sky on the edge of a cloud.

  “Like I said, I lived near the coast. In Maine. It was an amazing place. For the first seven years of my life it was just me and my mom and dad, then she had Max. I loved having a brother, someone else I could confide in.” The motion of my leg slows to a steady rise and fall, like the swells of the ocean. “My parents were great teachers. They taught us everything. How wonderful this world is and how important the people living on it are. But then my mother died. I was twelve.” Colt doesn’t say anything so I continue.

  “One day I came back from spending the night on the beach with Max, and she was just gone. My father had already buried her. He never talked about it. All he would say was it was a horrible accident.” Even Jenna has stopped chewing her cereal from the kitchen to listen. Colt shifts in his chair.

  “My parents died when I was young too. And Jenna’s dad died.” The words bring pain to his face, and I wonder how many times he’s said them aloud.

  Jenna swallows and adds, “Moving on from depressing stuff, did you ever leave your home? You know, get out a bit to see the world?”

  It takes me a moment before I continue. “I knew about things in the world, but never experienced it firsthand. Only watched it on television. I wished I could be a part of it, but I knew I’d never be accepted. I was obviously different, not special.”

  I laugh a little, imagining all the times I’d paint my hair or try to lighten my skin with powder to hide my skin’s imperfections.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. We’re not special.” Colt motions between Jenna and him. “We’re freaks of nature, a science experiment gone wrong.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Jenna mutters.

  “If it were up to me,” Colt continues, “I’d completely wipe us all out, leaving only people like you, Originals, to start over and make this world a better place.”

  Jenna laughs. “Then it’s a good thing no one cares what you think.”

  A shadow passes over Colt’s face. “One of these days, Jenna—”

  “What?” she asks. “What are you going to do? Turn me over to the Institute?”

  Colt stands suddenly. “I’m warning you!”

  Jenna sets her bowl onto the counter and walks over to him, smiling. The action’s not friendly. “Don’t threaten me. We wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for you.”

  “What is she talking about?” I ask.

  Colt doesn’t answer, but his face is pale again.

  “Yeah, Colt,” Jenna says. “What am I talking about?”

  “This isn’t the time—” he starts to say, but Jenna cuts him off.

  “No. I’m not letting this go. The piper has come and now it’s time to pay.” She turns to me and opens her mouth.

  “Jenna, don’t!” Colt says.

  She doesn’t stop. “Colt is the reason the Institute has your brother.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say.

  Colt leans back into the sofa, his expression stone.

  Jenna crosses her arms, looking pleased with herself. “Almost a year ago, Colt turned your father into the Institute in exchange for money. They had your dad for several days until he escaped, but in the process a Canine bit him. That Canine eventually tracked him back to your house in Maine where you were captured.” She is watching Colt as she speaks. “This is all Colt’s fault. And with that”—she curtsies to Colt—“I leave the room.” She walks into the office where Anthony is on the phone and closes the door.

  I stare after her, trying to absorb everything she just said. My father had been captured. He escaped, but a Canine had bit him. I know what a Canine is: a Prime with an unusual taste for blood. Once they’ve tasted the blood of their prey, they can track it anywhere. No wonder my father never stayed home much, especially this last year. But in the end it still wasn’t enough.

  Turning to Colt, I ask, “How much?”

  His eyes meet mine. “What?”

  “How much did they give you in exchange for my father?”

  He hesitates like he doesn’t want to answer, but he does. “A grand.”

  I fight back the urge to cry. “So you traded the life of a human for a thousand dollars?”

  Colt’s mouth tightens and his features sharpen. “Looks that way, doesn’t it?”

  I don’t know how to respond. What world did I step into where a person would trade the life of another for money? I turn away from Colt, unable to look at him.

  “Time to go,” Anthony says as he walks out of the office. He seems to sense the tension in the air. “What’s going on?”

  Neither Colt nor I answer. Jenna walks out of the office to stand next to Anthony. “I can tell you.”

  “What about my brother?” I ask quickly.

  “Max is still at the Institute, but they’re moving him for the event in two days.”

  “What event?” I ask.

  “It’s a yearly fundraiser where wealthy Primes raise money for those who are close to dying. They even donate a vial of their own precious oDNA for a week.”

  I remember the conversation I’d heard on the Wall Television at the Institute. “But why would they take Max there?”

  Anthony doesn’t say anything and doesn’t look at me either. It’s Jenna who answers. “He’s on display. Buyers like to meet their future donor, like one would when picking out a prized pig. And believe me, your brother is going to make them a lot of money when everyone finds out who his father is.”

  Although I don’t say it out loud, I wonder if that’s true. Ebony thought Max was broken and so might other Primes. Max was different from everyone in this world, but he was hardly broken.

  “How long can an Original live while their DNA is being sucked out of them?” I ask.

  Anthony says, “It’s not them taking DNA that’s harmful, that’s the easy part. It’s all the testing and experiments they put Originals through. The Techheads deny the expe
riments for the public’s sake, but we have strong evidence to the contrary.”

  “So how long does my brother have?”

  The room is silent. It’s Colt who eventually decides to be the bad guy.

  “No one knows for sure, since we don’t know what they do with the bodies, but we’ve heard the average life span is six months, probably less for a kid.”

  I sink into the chair, feeling the blood drain from my face. Why didn’t I know any of this? My father sure didn’t skimp on any of my other lessons.

  “We’ll get him back,” Colt says, his voice hard. “I promise.” He looks at me for the first time since our argument, but I have to look away. What little I know of him makes me want to keep my distance.

  Anthony clears his throat. “Bram’s going to help a little. Not as much as I would’ve liked, but he’s giving me some things that will help us go unnoticed once we’re inside the pavilion.”

  “But how do we get inside?” Jenna asks. “The place is going to be crawling with mutants.”

  Anthony shakes his head. “That’s going to be the hard part.”

  “Where did you say it was?” I ask.

  “The Oscar Johnson Pavilion. It’s a big building on the edge of town. Real fancy place.”

  “I know it,” I say.

  Jenna scoffs. “How could you know it? You never left your cottage in the woods, remember?”

  “My father taught me the layout of every Institute building he knew of, including the OJP. For example, I know their security is tight. They change their passcodes twice a day and only three people know them. I know the guest list to get into their events will be digital using those same passcodes. We’re not getting into that party. At least not through the front doors.”

  No one says anything for several seconds, and I look down, embarrassed. It probably does seem strange that I know all of this random information. At the time my father taught it to me, I thought it was odd too. Not so much anymore.

  “Then how?” Colt asks.

  I look up. “In the basement. Security is minimal. There’s a water drain. If we go through the tunnels—”

  Jenna waves her arms. “Stop right there. We are not going through the tunnels. No way, no how.”

  “She’s right,” Anthony says. “We won’t get past the Junks.”

  “Not to mention the dreaded mutated alligators,” she adds.

  Anthony snorts. “That’s a myth. We only have to worry about Junks, which is plenty.”

  The term stirs a memory within me. Junks are human addicts who injected all kinds of pDNA, both human and animal. The result was disastrous and over time they mutated into smaller creatures devoid of human reasoning. The Institute tried to eradicate them, but they escaped into the tunnels beneath the city, making it near impossible for the Institute to find them all.

  “Meat,” I say. “Raw meat. They like it and it will buy us some time.”

  Jenna laughs. “You want us to feed them? Look, I know you’ve been living under a rock your whole life so I don’t want to be mean, but you’re a twisted nut job! No one, and I mean no one, goes into the tunnels.”

  I stand and curl my hands into fists. “I didn’t ask for your help, you prepubescent teen.”

  Her eyes narrow. “What did you call me?”

  Anthony laughs and I think Colt smiles, but just barely. I take a deep breath and step back. “The same goes for the rest of you. I will get my brother back. No one has to risk their lives for us.”

  “I already made my decision a long time ago,” Anthony says. “The human race needs to be saved. Now let’s go. Bram’s waiting. Colt?”

  “I’ll stay with Sage,” he says.

  My eyes go to Colt, but he’s not looking at me. After what Jenna told me, I’m not sure I should be alone with him.

  Jenna scrunches her nose. “Who’s Sage?”

  “I am,” I say, expecting some kind of insult from her.

  She shrugs. “I like Patch better.”

  I ignore her, something I’m getting used to doing, and say to Anthony, “Are you sure it’s safe? Maybe it’s better if I stay here alone.”

  Jenna smirks knowingly at Colt.

  Anthony furrows his brow, his gaze going back and forth between Jenna and Colt as if he’s trying to figure out what’s going on between them. “No, Colt’s right. You’re much safer with him. You can trust him. I promise.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat. Anthony may trust him, but I can’t dismiss the fact that he so easily turned in my father, which eventually led to my and Max’s and capture. I’ll have to keep my guard up around him.

  I take a deep breath before asking, “When you’re at Bram’s, can you ask if there’s a way I can speak with my father?”

  “Sure,” he says, but the way he says it makes me think it’s not possible, which is disappointing. I want to know why he didn’t try to find Max and me.

  “Are you staying or coming?” Anthony asks Jenna.

  “For now, going,” she says. “It’s too stuffy in here.”

  “I’ll be back in one hour. If anything happens, you know where to go,” Anthony says, and leaves by the front door.

  As soon as he’s gone, Colt asks, “You hungry again?”

  “Yes, no.” My stomach is rumbling, but I’m not sure if it’s because I’m hungry or sick about my brother.

  “I’ll get you some cereal.”

  “Please don’t bother.”

  He stands up anyway and goes into the kitchen. “About what Jenna said earlier. You don’t know the whole story.”

  “I only have one question,” I say. “What did you do with the money?”

  His face pales.

  “Answer me!”

  “I bought oDNA.” His voice is quiet.

  I wrinkle my nose in disgust. “So not only did you turn in an Original for cash, but then you bought an Original’s DNA from the Institute knowing they’re being imprisoned and tortured for it?”

  “There’s more to it than that. Let me—”

  “I don’t mean to be rude, really I don’t,” I say, holding up my hand, “but right now I don’t want to think about it. I just want to focus on finding my brother. Maybe one day you can tell me, and maybe I’ll understand, but for now, let’s just get through the next little while, and then who knows? Maybe you’ll never have to see me again, and none of this will matter anyway.”

  He reaches into a cupboard and removes a bowl. “If that’s what you want.” His tone is matter-of-fact, but there’s a hint of something else. Sadness? Bitterness? I don’t know him well enough to tell.

  After a few silent moments, he asks, his voice still hard, “What are some things your father taught you?”

  I’m not sure I like this topic any better than the last, but I answer anyway. Maybe I’ll remember something that will help Max. “As much as he could, especially after my mom died. He was obsessive about it. First thing in the morning, at sunrise, he would make me watch these movies about all the different types of Primes, specifically their physical characteristics, including any distinguishable eye color. Then we’d go over their strengths and weaknesses. Over and over until I knew them as well as I did my father. Then for hours after he’d teach me to fight. Every kind of martial arts you could think of. Afternoons were saved for history lessons, role playing—”

  “Role playing?”

  “Yes. Like what to say in certain situations to get me out of tight spots. His lessons were nonstop. He said it was because I was at a disadvantage from everyone else. I think he was trying to put me on a level playing field, if that’s possible.”

  “What about your brother?”

  At this, I’m quiet. How can I explain Max? No one would understand. In this world, where everyone was considered exceptional, Max would be thought of as useless. Only my father and I knew how special he really was.

  “Max is different,” is all I say. “My father didn’t teach him like he did me. I learned enough for both of us.”

&n
bsp; Colt hands me what looks like oats in a bowl but the coloring is different. “That must have been hard.”

  “It was all for Max, and me, too, I guess. But now I’ve lost him.”

  “We’ll get him back.”

  I stare into the cereal for several seconds before I take a bite. The texture is similar to oatmeal, but it tastes sweeter.

  Colt is quiet while I eat. He’s looking at a magazine but every once in awhile he looks up at me. I’m almost finished when he sits up abruptly. His eyebrows are drawn together and his mouth is tight.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  He stands and looks around frantically.

  “Colt?”

  He’s at my side and pulling me up before I can do it myself. The bowl of cereal falls to the ground, spilling milk all over the wooden floor.

  “We have to go,” he says.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Someone’s trying to break in.” He pulls me into the kitchen.

  “How do you know?” I ask. I tilt my head to listen for any strange sounds, but hear nothing.

  “It’s one of my things,” he says as he glances all around. “There’s got to be a way out of here.”

  “In the kitchen?”

  Colt’s opening bottom cupboards and knocking on the back paneling. A cracking sound has me doing the same, although I’m not sure what I’m searching for.

  “Over here,” he says from beneath the sink. He knocks aside several bottles of clear liquid. I crouch next to him and peer inside as he pushes a small lever at the bottom of the metal sink. The back wall of the cabinet slides open, revealing a narrow cavity.

  “Get in,” he says. Behind me the sound of a loud explosion rocks the whole apartment.

  I hesitate. What if he’s leading me into a trap?

  “Please trust me,” he says again, his eyes pleading. “I’m trying to make things right.”

  I clench my jaw, still unsure, but scurry in anyway. Anthony said I would be safe. I hope he’s right.

  I crawl quickly but have to drop to my belly as the circular, metal-walled tunnel narrows. Colt climbs in behind me; his arms are bumping my legs. As soon as we’re a ways into the tunnel, the small door snaps shut. The sound is quiet but it makes my heart beat faster as if a gun just fired. I don’t know the layout of this building. I don’t know what lies ahead and this makes me extremely nervous. Plus it’s dark and the space is small. I close my eyes and say it isn’t.

 

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