The electrical current immediately vanished, and my entire body filled with the most intense pins-and-needles sensation I’d ever experienced. I felt Mase remove his hand from my back, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Dr. Wesley.
“MA-one, release her restraints right now,” she said. “Take her to my office and wait for me there.”
Mase didn’t seem to be having nearly as much trouble as I was with the aftereffects of the twisted electroshock therapy. He unstrapped me, slipped his powerful arms beneath my shoulders and knees, and picked me up effortlessly.
Once we were in the hallway and out of Dr. Maxwell’s sight, I wrapped my arms around Mase’s neck, buried my face in his scrubs, and began sobbing. “Thank you…thank you…thank you…” I repeated over and over again. He hadn’t prevented the pain altogether, but he’d shared it and had done what he could to make it stop.
We walked for a short time, Mase carrying me and me crying uncontrollably, but eventually his steps ceased.
“Camille,” he called. “Let me in. I have her.”
But it wasn’t Camille who responded. There was the sound of a door opening, quickly followed by Gabe’s demanding voice. “Here, set her down over here. How far did he get in the process? What was the highest level he reached?”
When Mase tried to lower me onto a couch, I tightened my hold around his neck and whimpered. I wasn’t ready to let go.
He made a low, rough sound—almost a growl—and turned, still cradling me in his arms as he seated himself on the couch. “Dr. Max just raised her to level six,” Mase said. He started rubbing gentle circles on my back as I continued to cry against his shoulder.
“Level six! Her synapses must be fried!” Gabe exclaimed. “Dani? Can you hear me?” His voice was closer, more urgent. “Do you know who I am?”
Someone too small to be Gabe sat down beside Mase, lifting my feet and resting my legs on his or her lap. It must be Camille. She slipped slim fingers beneath the rolled cuff of my too-long jeans, wrapped her hand around my ankle, and started humming an unrecognizable lullaby. Her angelic song, or maybe it was her touch, was so soothing that I felt my body begin to calm, the pins and needles begin to fade.
“Dani?” Gabe repeated.
I felt hands on my hair, brushing it back and trying to turn my head. I tensed and pressed my face harder against Mase’s scrubs. Twice he’d helped me in the past few hours. In such a foreign, friendless place, he’d proven himself to be an ally…to be safe. I wasn’t ready to let go of that security. I missed my friends—my Jason—and being held by someone I could trust, at least for a little while, was like ice on a burn: it wouldn’t fix the pain and loneliness forever, but it was a damn good temporary salve.
“Please, Dani,” Gabe said, again trying to turn my head.
Mase’s chest rumbled against my ear. “Let her be.”
“I can’t…I need to know if she’s…if she’s still…” Gabe made a choking sound, and his hands dropped away from my hair. “Oh God, what have I done? How could I have brought her here? It’s just like before…it’s always going to be like before. Forgive me. Please…forgive me.” From the sound of his voice, I was pretty sure he was crying.
“She spoke earlier, when we first left the electrotherapy lab,” Mase said quietly. “I don’t think she’s broken.”
“But…how? Level six—” Gabe’s voice was strained. “Even if it was only for a few seconds…”
“He starts me on ten. Level six is nothing to a Re-gen,” Mase said.
“What are you saying?”
I felt Mase briefly raise his shoulders. “I shared it.”
“You shared it?”
When Mase spoke, he sounded a little uncomfortable. “When she was at level three, I touched her here”—he ceased his back-rubbing for a moment to lift up the hem of my shirt and lightly touch my lower back; the patch of skin felt tender, almost like I had a bad sunburn—“and the electricity flowed through me, too.”
“How did you know it would work?” Gabe asked.
“I didn’t.”
“I’m so proud of you, Giant,” Camille said, pausing her hypnotizing song.
After a long moment filled only with Camille’s humming, Gabe said, “You two aren’t like the other Re-gens, are you?”
I jumped at the sound of the office door opening. “Camille, Mase, I need you both to get back to your usual duties. We can’t have anyone asking questions about you two,” Dr. Wesley said.
“But—” Mase said, raising me a little for emphasis.
“Thank you for what you did today, Mase, but Dr. McLaughlin and I will take it from here. She’ll be safe with me, I promise.” Dr. McLaughlin…is that Gabe? “Just set her on the couch and return to Dr. Maxwell’s office. Camille, I believe General Herodson is expecting you for today’s batch?”
“Yes,” Camille said, and she and Mase shifted me around so they were no longer under me. I was suddenly alone on the couch.
I curled up on my side facing the back cushions and squeezed my eyes shut. How had the world turned into such a nightmare? Will it ever get better?
I heard two sets of footsteps, and then the sound of the door opening and closing again.
There was a heavy, female sigh. “Well?”
“Well, what?” Gabe asked.
“Just say it already. I’m too tired for these games, Gabriel.” Dr. Wesley really did sound exhausted.
“You’ve been keeping secrets from me, Wes,” Gabe said, his voice low and accusatory. All signs of his earlier grief had disappeared. Now he sounded pissed.
Dr. Wesley laughed, a sound that was equally rough and musical. “I keep many secrets from many people. Just part of the job, I suppose. But those two are a couple of my best secrets.”
“You’re playing with fire, Wes. If he discovers the truth about them, that the Re-gens aren’t all under his absolute control—”
“I’m fully aware.” Even more exhaustion laced the doctor’s voice. “But what could he possibly do to me that he hasn’t already?”
“Wes—”
“I’ll give her a sedative,” Dr. Wesley said, ignoring Gabe’s single, plaintive word. I could hear her moving around behind me, opening a drawer, tearing open a plastic package, stepping closer to me. I didn’t care. “She’ll be out for a few hours, but when she wakes up, she should be back to normal, more or less. You’ll have to inform her of the initial and long-term side effects of the electrotherapy.”
I felt the prick of a needle in my upper arm, but didn’t react.
“You can come back down here and take her home when your shift is over.”
“I want to stay with—”
“No.” Dr. Wesley’s voice was soft, but firm. “You need to get back to work. You’ve missed too much lab time as it is. It doesn’t do any of us any good if you get caught—especially not her.” She paused, and I heard Gabe sigh. “You need to stay in control, Gabriel, otherwise…”
Their words faded out as I sank into unconsciousness’s gentle embrace.
“Eat,” Gabe said. He was sitting across from me at my kitchen table, watching me move unenticing food around on my plate. He’d hustled me home shortly after I woke up in Dr. Wesley’s office, about an hour ago. He’d only left me for a moment to change out of his work clothes at his house, which turned out to be right next door. “Please, Dani. After what happened today, your body—you need to eat.”
I dropped my fork, letting it clink loudly on the brown-speckled stoneware plate. The last thing I wanted was to take a single bite of the roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and peas he’d brought from the cafeteria near his lab. In fact, I didn’t want to eat another thing that had been prepared in the Colony. I didn’t even want to breathe the air. Who knew if it held some repulsive mind-controlling agent, some failsafe in case the General’s grasp slipped.
“After what happened today,” I said, repeating his words. “Why don’t we talk about what happened today.” As I spoke, I speared him to
his seat with an accusing glare. Based on what he’d said in Dr. Wesley’s office, he obviously knew quite a bit about the ridiculously painful electroshock torture I’d been subjected to. I needed answers…an explanation…something.
“What do you mean?” Gabe asked, lowering his eyes to stare at the far corner of the table.
“What did happen today, exactly?” Before he opened his mouth, before I even knew if he would answer, I added, “What are Re-gens? How are Camille and Mase different? What secrets has Dr. Wesley been hiding from you? And why the hell is someone in your building electrocuting people?” It took an effort to keep myself from shouting. “Would a warning have been so difficult?”
Sighing and slouching in his chair, Gabe finally made eye contact with me. “Re-gens are…they’re complicated.” He shook his head. “I’ll drop you by Wes’s office first thing tomorrow. She can explain it a lot better than I can; after all, she’s the one who created them. As for those two—Camille and Mase—all I know is that they’re apparently different from other Re-gens.” He frowned. “I don’t know why, or how.”
“And the electroshock crap? Is there some sort of purpose, or do you Colonists just get a sick kick out of torturing people?”
Gabe pulled the elastic band away from the base of his skull and let his golden hair fall around his face. “The electrotherapy—that’s what we call it—is the quickest way we’ve found to strengthen a person’s Ability. The effects are unprecedented.” He paused, pain and regret filling his eyes. “But we’ve learned that it’s too dangerous to use on humans.”
I fought the urge to pick up my fork and throw it at him. “Then why the hell did that psycho Dr. Maxwell have a full schedule of people to electrotherapize?”
The corner of Gabe’s mouth twitched. Apparently, my little tantrum was amusing him.
If he smiles, I’m throwing my plate at him.
“It’s too dangerous for humans—not for Re-gens,” he told me.
I scoffed. “Mase and Camille looked pretty human to me. If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck…”
Gabe said nothing, simply stared at me.
“Oh, come on. You’re not saying they’re not human!” I exclaimed. “That’s ridiculous!” Is it? I recalled how different their minds had felt—closer to animal than human. But they’re people!
A single, blond eyebrow rose over Gabe’s eye.
“Fine,” I said, sitting back and crossing my arms. “Say I do believe you and they’re—I don’t know, aliens or something…why doesn’t the electrotherapy hurt them like it does humans?”
“It has to do with the process they go through when becoming Re-gens.”
“Which is…?”
Gabe’s mouth did quirk up at the corner that time. “Something you’ll find out from Wes tomorrow…if she decides to explain it to you.”
Sensing I wouldn’t get any more information on the Re-gens out of him, I changed the subject. “So…I didn’t die from the electrotherapy. Does that mean my Ability’s going to be stronger?”
Too impatient to wait for Gabe’s answer, I tried to use my telepathy—and hit a brain-numbing electrical wall. “Ahhhgggg!” I cried out, hunching over, clutching both sides of my head.
Large, gentle hands covered mine, and I looked up. Gabe was standing beside my chair, gazing down at me with sympathy-filled eyes. “Yes, you will…but not until the electrical charges fully integrate with your natural synapses. It usually takes about twenty-four hours. Until that happens, using your Ability will be impossible, and attempting to do so will be extremely painful. Also, your Ability may fluctuate—a lot—over the next few months. It might even change, to some degree.”
Attempting to do so will be extremely painful. Through clenched teeth, I said, “Painful…you have no idea.” Painful was an understatement.
He offered me a small smile. “Actually, I do,” he said softly.
Stunned, I stared up at him. He was telling me that he’d gone through the whole process too, probably months ago. It explained why his dreamwalking Ability was so strong.
“Now, will you please eat?”
I shook my head and pushed my plate away, glaring at the food. “This…it’s pretty much the product of slave labor. I—I just can’t.”
“And you wasting away during a hunger strike—what good would that do anyone?”
I shrugged.
Gabe reached out and placed his hand under my chin. Gently, he tilted my face up so I was looking at him. “How about if I make pancakes. Would you eat those?”
My stomach growled, and I failed to hide my eager grin.
Gabe laughed softly. “So it looks like you’ll be living off a steady diet of pancakes and spaghetti until you get out of here, since that pretty much exhausts my culinary repertoire,” he joked.
I chuckled until I fully comprehended what he’d said. Until you get out of here. “We,” I clarified. “You meant, ‘Until we get out of here,’ right?”
“Dani…” Gabe turned away and started toward the kitchen, but not before I saw his pensive frown.
“No!” I jumped to my feet and followed him, snatching his wrist to stop his retreat. “You have to come with me, Gabe—you and the woman you told me about. Promise me,” I urged. He’d been spending so much time with me, there was no way the General wouldn’t catch onto his free state of mind once I escaped; I might as well have installed a neon sign inside his office blaring GABE IS A TRAITOR! I needed to get out of the Colony, but Gabe’s life wasn’t an acceptable price.
He shook his head, avoiding my eyes. “Dani, I—”
“You owe me,” I practically growled. “Promise me you’re coming with me when I leave.”
The moment between my demand and his answer was tense, filled only with the sound of our breathing. “Fine,” he eventually said.
“Promise me,” I demanded quietly.
Finally, he met my eyes. “I promise I’ll come with you when you leave.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, releasing his wrist and letting him go.
15
ZOE
MARCH 18, 1AE
Unable to wait idly by, wondering why Dani hadn’t contacted Jason first thing this morning as planned, I needed to preoccupy myself. Since the box was fresh on my mind, I decided it was time to open the damn thing.
Jason seemed wound more tightly than usual, so I wasn’t surprised by his absence in the house. Knowing he had the box and would want to open it with me, I was resolved to find him. Since my brother was still healing, I knew he couldn’t have gone very far, so I could investigate the ghost town in the process of looking for him.
After I donned a fresh pair of cargo pants and a white tank top, I heard footsteps in the hallway.
“You look like you’re on a mission,” Jake said from the doorway.
I glanced up from tying my boots. “Sort of.”
He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for me to explain.
“I’m going to find Jason. There’s something we need to talk about.” I didn’t mean to be so vague, but I had enough on my mind.
“Sounds serious,” he said lightly, and when I didn’t answer he continued, “He’s been in a bad mood lately. Are you sure—”
“Jason’s always in a bad mood. I’ll be fine.” I smiled weakly and stood up. It was hard to ignore Jake’s penetrating stare as he attempted to gauge my mood; he wanted to say more.
I snatched my leather jacket off the back of the chair.
“Zoe, we need to—”
“I can’t really talk right now, Jake.” I shrugged on my jacket. “Maybe later?” Giving him a pleading look, I strode past.
He reached out to stop me. “Zoe—”
“There’s a lot going on right now, Jake.” I knew the longer I stood there, the harder it would be to walk away. “We’re both treading water, just trying to stay afloat, and I think we need to take a step back for a while. Get some clarity.” The words tasted sour and wron
g, but needed to be said all the same.
Without giving him a chance to respond, I patted the gun attached to my thigh, ensuring it was there, and hurried down the stairs, calling for Cooper to accompany me outside as added protection. We made our way out of the old house, and I took a much-needed, deep, calming breath.
Pulling my hair up into a ponytail, I plodded down the four wooden steps on the porch and stepped onto the dirt road that ran through the center of town. Main Street, I supposed…but then, as far as I could tell, it was the only street.
The weather was warmer than it had been in a while, but a little gusty, causing mini dust devils to whirl here and there along the abandoned street and the hanging signs to clack and clang against the Old West storefronts. The smell of wood and dust reminded me a little of the barn at our old camp. I liked it.
Standing in front of the Sackett House afforded me a decent view of the town. Two surprisingly well-maintained rows of antique buildings stretched out before me. Upon noticing the saloon sign at the end of the road advertising “a good time,” I smiled. The church to the left of it resembled a log cabin, and the general store to the right was rickety enough to believe it might have been completely authentic.
If I were Jason, where would I be? I figured he wasn’t morbid enough to hang out at the undertaker’s, so I continued on and headed quickly toward a log structure quite a bit smaller than the church—the sheriff’s office a few buildings down from the boarding house. That seemed a little more like a spot Jason would choose to hang out in. Pausing on the road in front of the sheriff’s, I studied the building. It looked like the door hadn’t been opened in a while, but I assumed there was a back entrance, so that didn’t necessarily mean anything.
Quietly, I walked up onto the front porch to the door and stilled, listening closely. I could hear a muted scraping sound—like metal on wood, a sound that reminded me of my woodsmith dad—and I placed my hand on the hilt of my pistol. The repetitive scratching continued, broken only by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind the sun-bleached wooden door.
I crept toward the window set off to the right, careful not to alert whoever was inside in case it wasn’t one of my companions, and peered through the dusty glass. I let out a relieved breath; it was Jason. He was sitting near the window in an old wooden chair by a simple oak desk, hunched over, with his back to me.
Into The Fire (The Ending Series) Page 18