Expiration Date

by Kristin Coley

  “Kendra or Lillian?”

  “Kendra,” I replied, questioning his entire childhood. I thought I’d had it rough after Mom died, but I wasn’t sure Mercy had ever had a family.

  “Kendra,” he let out a sigh as he admitted, “She didn’t want me. She took care of me out of some sense of obligation or guilt. I was never really sure why, except maybe she felt responsible.”

  “That doesn’t excuse her for making you feel unwanted or using this woman as a threat,” I snarled angrily. “You were a little boy.”

  “Who was weird,” he pointed out. “I didn’t like to talk to people, I definitely didn’t listen, and I couldn’t get lost if I tried.” He shook his head, accepting his childhood, as I fought an automatic protest at his treatment. “Kendra took care of me the only way she knew how. I think she was terrified of Lillian Dubois and she taught me to be too.”

  “You don’t call her Mom,” I mentioned, noticing he’d never once referred to Kendra as his mother.

  “She wasn’t my mom. She was Kendra, always,” he said adamantly. “She never referred to herself as my mother and never allowed anyone else to either.”

  “That seems strange to me,” I admitted and he shrugged.

  “I never knew differently. It was more like she was my older sister.”

  “Then why did you go to the Nightingale Foundation?” I met his eyes. “If you were scared of her, why go there?”

  “Answers,” he said simply. “I hoped there would be answers or if nothing else, a reason to stop being scared.”

  “That didn’t work out,” I commented and he gave an involuntary chuckle. “We’ve got even more questions and now all of us are scared of her.”

  “She knows who we are,” Mercy murmured, shaking his head softly. “It’s like all my childhood nightmares are coming true, except now it’s not just me.” He glanced at me and I could see the fear in his eyes. “It’s you and Joy too.”

  “She won’t get us,” I promised him, patting his hand. “We know she’s watching. We can prepare.”

  “You can’t promise that,” he argued. “She knows about us and we know one of us is going to die.”

  “One of us?” I asked sharply. “All of us have the same expiration date.”

  “Yeah, I have a theory about that,” he mentioned and I waved my hand impatiently. “I think only one of us dies. I don’t know who, but there’s no way we all die the exact same way, in the exact same spot, at the exact same time.”

  “You think our abilities are picking up on one of our deaths,” I exhaled slowly as I considered the idea. It made a weird sense, “But why would our abilities react that way?”

  “Maybe because we’re related?” He suggested. “We’ve never met blood relatives before now. Maybe it’s something in our DNA.”

  “My head hurts,” I sighed as I pressed my thumbs into my temples and wished for the millionth time I’d never been born with this ability.

  “Your pot is boiling over,” Mercy mentioned and I jumped up. I pushed the pot of noodles off the eye and turned the stove off.

  “Dinner’s ready,” I announced, the words oddly normal in the midst of our conversation. I tried not to think too hard about the fact that only one of us was might die, determined to save us all, one way or another.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Joy

  I tried not to let it hurt as he walked by without even glancing at me, but it was impossible. My gaze trailed after him as I stood in front of my locker. It had been days since Amber had blurted out the truth. Days with nothing. No texts, no conversations, not even a glance.

  I’d tried to talk to him the next day but he’d shook his head and walked off, leaving me standing alone. I’d thought when he’d texted me that night, it meant he was going to give me a chance to explain. But nope. It seemed he’d made up his mind.

  “Are you sure you want to do this today?” Hope asked for the umpteenth time and I nodded impatiently.

  “I can’t wait any longer. We’re running out of time,” I answered and Hope opened her mouth, no doubt to rattle off exactly how much time we had until our combined expiration date, but I cut her off. “You and Mercy agreed.”

  “Yes, but do you really want to have this conversation with your mother on the day your grandfather dies?”

  “Adopted mother,” I corrected and Hope’s lips pressed together. “And yes. I’ve waited this long because of Gramps. I can’t wait any longer to know the truth.”

  “Maybe there’s a reasonable explanation,” Hope suggested and I shook my head.

  “Or maybe my adopted mother is working with the devil to kill us,” I retorted sharply, slamming my locker door shut and drawing attention. “Either way, we need to know the truth.”

  “Do you want one of us to talk to Brandon?” She asked, hovering a couple of steps away from me. “We only have 2 days,” she reminded me, like I needed one.

  “I know,” I snapped. “I have not forgotten when Brandon dies.”

  “I know you haven’t,” Hope answered patiently. “But he’s the only common denominator and nothing has changed.”

  “If he won’t talk to me by tomorrow, then we’ll kidnap him until the threat is gone,” I blurted out, then waited for her to reject my crazy plan.

  “Okay,” she said instead and I looked at her as if she was the crazy one. “It’s not a bad plan,” she insisted. “If nothing else, we can see if their expiration dates change.”

  “He can’t die,” I told her, as desperation clawed through me. “They can’t die. Amber, the others, we can’t let it happen.”

  “We won’t let it happen,” she swore as she reached for me cautiously. Her hands settled on my arms and she squeezed. “We’ll figure it all out.”

  “That’s supposed to be my line,” I murmured, trying not to cry as I thought about was going to happen today. Gramps was going to die, and Mom, Miranda, I corrected myself forcefully, would tell us her part in everything that had happened.

  “It’s still your line. I just borrowed it this one time,” she replied, watching me carefully.

  “I’m alright,” I told her, nodding.

  “Yeah, me too,” she said, twitching her nose. “It’s not like anyone is going to die this weekend.”

  I made a choked sound and she wiggled her eyebrows. “Was that a laugh?”

  “No,” I protested, shaking my head as I lied. “It was not a laugh. This is not funny.”

  “It’s not funny, but neither is crying.” I sighed, but didn’t argue and she hooked her arm through mine. Hope was the only one who consistently tried to touch me and I couldn’t decide if it was endearing or irritating. “Let’s go then.”

  ***

  When we got to my house, Brandon stood on the porch. Hope eased past, saying something, but I didn’t hear her over the roaring in my ears.

  “You’re here,” I stated, my face numb as I drank in the sight of him. He stood there, straight and tall, those dark blue eyes meeting mine for the first time in days.

  “I kept telling myself you were a liar. That all of you were playing some elaborate hoax.” I shook my head frantically and he lifted his hand. “Let me finish. What Amber said, it sounded insane, implausible, but she’s not a liar, and neither are you.” I shut my mouth as he closed the distance between us. “I have to admit you’re a little different, but I don’t think you’d make something like that up.”

  “You believe us.” The words came out more of a question as I noticed his expression change.

  “I need proof,” he replied, almost apologetically and my gaze dropped. “I want to believe you,” he rushed to say, “It’s just a lot.”

  “I understand,” I said, lifting my head. “Come inside.” I motioned to the door and he followed me to Gramps’ room. Dad and Miranda were next to the bed while Houston sat at the foot, his hand on Gramps’ leg. I pushed myself against the wall, having no desire to get closer. Brandon stood next to me, his arm almost brushing mine.

&
nbsp; I stared at the clock on the wall, watching the seconds count down and knew Hope was upstairs in my room, experiencing the same countdown. My breathing slowed, matching Gramps, and right before I felt his last shuddering breath, Brandon’s hand grasped mine. The nurse declared time of death and I didn’t need to look at the calendar to see it was an exact match.

  “Okay,” Brandon murmured, swallowing. “Okay.”

  I tugged him from the room and led him upstairs. Amber and Mercy were already sitting on my bed, Hope must have let them, I mused as I sat cross legged on the floor.

  “We have another believer,” Amber cried when she saw Brandon and Hope pinched her leg. “Ow.”

  “Serves you right,” Mercy muttered to her, as he eyed Brandon. “You good? Look a little pale, dude.”

  “I’m….good enough,” he answered, glancing at me. “It’s all true then?” I nodded and he rubbed his hand over his mouth. “You said I’m going to die and a bunch of other people too.”

  “Yeah, like me,” Amber interjected as Houston slipped into the room.

  “You think I’m the reason you die?” Brandon asked brusquely, his shoulders tensed.

  “We think so, yes,” Hope answered. “This would be the third time.”

  “Third time?” He echoed and Hope winced.

  “You were supposed to die at the pep rally, along with half the administration.”

  “The fire alarm went off,” he remembered, his gaze flicking to Houston. “Rumor has it, you pulled it.”

  Houston shrugged, stating baldly, “I did.” He draped his arm around Hope. “She asked me too.”

  “It worked,” Hope continued. “You lived and everyone’s expiration date changed to years in the future, except yours.”

  “Except mine,” Brandon repeated, looking a little overwhelmed. “The park,” he guessed and Mercy nodded.

  “That was the second time,” he confirmed.

  “You pushed me out of the way,” Brandon verified and Mercy nodded. “And now I’m supposed to die again, and this time you die too?” He pointed to Amber, who nodded. “You ever think maybe I’m supposed to die and you’re just interfering?” He questioned, sounding way more calm than I expected.

  “No,” Hope answered instantly, taking him by surprise. “Your date changed that first day, along with the others. I’ve never seen that before, but I don’t think you’re meant to die.”

  “We all die,” Brandon replied. “Eventually.”

  “Yes, but not yet,” I told him firmly. “We’ve changed it twice. We just need to figure out why someone wants to kill you and stop them.”

  “Easy peasy,” Hope declared and he blinked at her. “Now, the pep rally was the first attempt, so any enemies?”

  “No,” Brandon said instantly. “Not that I know of.”

  “What about your brother?” I mentioned, remembering his worry.

  “No,” he shouted, staring at me incredulously. “He’s my brother. He wouldn’t –” He stopped speaking, his expression changing.

  “What is it?” Houston asked when he remained silent.

  “It’s nothing,” Brandon dismissed, his throat bobbing.

  “It’s not nothing,” Amber insisted, walking right up to him and poking his chest. “It’s my life and yours so start talking.”

  Brandon rubbed his chest, leaning away from her. “My brother was at the school the day of the pep rally,” he admitted reluctantly. “But it doesn’t mean anything,” he rushed to add. “He was supposed to drop something off for me.”

  “What was it?”

  “I don’t know,” Brandon answered. “He never gave it to me. With the fire alarm going off, I never saw him.”

  “What about the park? Someone almost ran you over. Could it have been your brother?” Hope questioned bluntly.

  Brandon opened his mouth and then closed it. “Sometimes my brother goes to the park to play hoops,” he confessed, his face drawn.

  “He drive a black Toyota?” Mercy asked and Brandon’s eyes closed as he nodded. “I gotta say, it don’t look good for your brother. Why would he want to kill you?”

  “I have no idea,” Brandon exclaimed, looking at me. “I don’t. We were friends until –” He paused, exhaling. “Until Bradley dropped out of college and moved back home. He’s been different, angry and confused. He talks but doesn’t make sense and for some reason I’m the target of most of his anger.”

  “Twenty-seven students will die at the Homecoming game if we don’t stop him,” Hope stated and Brandon’s shoulders slumped.

  “Does he have access to a gun?” Houston asked and Brandon lifted his head.

  “My dad keeps the guns in a safe, but he doesn’t have anything that would do what you’re talking about. You’d need an assault rifle to fire that many rounds.”

  “We need to know if your brother has one or any guns. We can’t rule out him having multiple guns,” Mercy declared and Brandon nodded, his face blank. I slipped off my glove and nestled my hand inside his. He squeezed, giving me a grateful glance.

  “I’ll find out tonight when I go home. I know my parents have been worried about him.” He glanced at our entwined hands. “So have I, but I never thought he could do something like this.”

  “We don’t always know the ones we love,” I whispered, my voice aching as I considered Miranda and what we would find out.

  “I should go,” he finally said, standing up. “Will you know if….” He trailed off, not seeming to know what to say, but Hope nodded.

  “I’ll know if you change it.”

  “Okay,” he replied, moving to the door as I clung to his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked me as we slipped from the room.

  “Yes,” I answered instantly then reconsidered, “If you want to see me, that is?”

  “I want to see you,” he declared, pulling me close. “I’ve missed you. Is that crazy?”

  “No crazier than anything else in my life,” I answered, resting my head on his chest as he held me tightly. “You’re important to me,” I admitted, running my bare hand over his arm. “This,” I tapped his arm, “You’re the only person I’ve ever been able to do this with.”

  “You’ve never been able to touch anyone else?” He asked in disbelief and I shook my head.

  “Not without experiencing their death,” I explained, wondering if that would be what sent him running. Instead, he held me tighter, one warm hand sliding under my shirt to rest against my back. I closed my eyes at the touch, at the acceptance it represented.

  “I’m not leaving you,” he whispered, the words a balm to my soul. “Together we’re stronger. Together we can do anything,” he promised and I felt the first glimmer of true joy.

  ***

  “You ready?”

  I nodded, not bothering to look at Houston. Brandon had left and we’d gathered around the kitchen table, waiting for Miranda. I couldn’t bring myself to call her Mom, instinct telling me she was a part of this.

  She walked in a few minutes later, our presence catching her off guard. “Kids,” she sniffled, her eyes red. “Are you doing okay?” Houston and I nodded as Mercy, Amber, and Hope came in behind her. She glanced at them startled. “Hello,” she greeted, her expression firming. “Now may not be the best time for company,” she said politely, but I caught the way her gaze shifted uncomfortably.

  “When is a good time then?” I asked, my voice flat. “When is a good time to betray us?” She spun around, her expression growing cagey.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joy. You’re grieving.”

  “I am, but not for Gramps. I accepted his death. It was your betrayal I didn’t see coming,” I replied, my expression unchanging as hers collapsed.

  “Lillian Dubois. Nightingale Foundation. What exactly did you sell your soul for, Miranda?”

  “You,” she cried. “Everything I did was to protect you.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s true,” she stat
ed sharply, sinking into a chair as the others circled her. “Lillian contacted me a few weeks ago, telling me Kendra Rollins had died and that she’d had custody of a teenage boy. A seventeen year old boy,” Miranda specified. “I didn’t know there were others,” she declared, looking at me pleadingly. “I swear.”

  “Maybe you should start at the beginning,” Houston suggested neutrally and she grasped his hand, her face falling when he slid his hand away.

  Her lips compressed as she took a deep breath. “I was a social worker. The Nightingale Foundation requested participants for a blind study. Specifically, pregnant women. The women were supposed to get additional medical testing. That’s all,” she stressed. “Except, that wasn’t all. It wasn’t until the women had their babies that I knew something was wrong. I was in the unique position to know most of the participants and I saw what happened.” Disgust flashed across her face as she remembered. “Their babies died, all of them.” She gave me a pleading look. “I lodged a complaint. I protested what they were doing. I swear, I did. I also quit, unable to stay there, knowing what they did.” She was quiet for a few minutes, breathing. “We moved away when I found out I was pregnant with Houston. I was scared and I didn’t even know why. Lillian couldn’t touch me, but what she’d done to those women’s babies…..I couldn’t forget it.”

  “It was a little over two years later when you came into our lives, Joy.” Miranda smiled, but it was sickly. “Another social worker I’d known had gone to work for the Nightingale Foundation. I warned her but she didn’t listen. One night she came to see me, and she had you with her. She begged me to take you. She said you had survived but that you were damaged. I didn’t know what she meant, but you were so innocent. I took you immediately. You were my –” She stopped, but it was too late.

  “Your penance?” I questioned and she flinched. “I was how you eased your guilt.” She didn’t deny it, but I didn’t need her too. “Let’s fast forward. Lillian contacted you.”

  “A few weeks ago. She knew about you. She knew you had been part of the experiments.” Miranda shook her head. “I love you, Joy. I would do anything to protect you.”