Ferocious

by Paula Stokes

  “Not as is,” Jesse yells in the background. “I did everything you said.”

  “You guys should probably get out of Los Angeles,” Baz says. “Just in case.”

  “Good idea. Can you GPS the neural editor?”

  “Why?”

  “Because the guy I didn’t kill stole it.”

  Baz swears again. “Yeah, okay. Give me a second.” He sets the phone down and I can hear him muttering under his breath. He comes back on the line. “That’s weird,” he says. “The chip is reading that it’s in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.”

  “So, on a plane,” I say. “On the way to Seoul.”

  “Possibly,” Baz says. “I could make some calls and try to match it to a registered flight path, but it’ll probably just be easier to wait and see where it stops moving, especially since whoever has it could switch onto a connecting flight.”

  “You’re right,” I say. “Can you check it later and give us a call?”

  “Sure,” Baz says. “I wouldn’t panic. I’m pretty sure Gideon disabled the editor in case someone came after it. It’ll be useless.”

  “He did disable it. He told me. Well, he left me a ViSE that told me. But Kyung will be able to find someone who can fix it, even without Gideon’s notes.”

  “So he has the tech but not the notes?”

  “Right. Gideon’s research is … in a safe place.” Sebastian loved Gideon and I want to trust him, but the fewer people who know about the flash drive built into my necklace, the better.

  “Cool. Put Ramirez on for a minute.”

  I hand the phone to Jesse and lie back on the bed. He and Baz talk for a few minutes and then Jesse hangs up. “You should get some sleep,” he says.

  “I’m not sure if sleep is going to be easy for me to come by.”

  Jesse pulls a pill bottle out of his pocket. “I have some really good drugs that say otherwise.”

  I smile. “I’m not taking your painkillers.”

  “Then I guess you’ll just have to be soothed by my natural calming presence.” When I don’t respond, he adds, “There’s nothing we can do until we know for sure where the tech is. We might as well get some rest. You look exhausted.”

  “I am,” I admit. “I’ve been sleeping in two-hour chunks so I can record myself in case I dissociate.” I don’t tell Jesse about going to see the elevator where my sister died. I don’t want him to think I’m dissociating all the time or he’ll try to convince me not to go to Seoul.

  “God, Winter. I’m surprised you’re not a total wreck. You can’t survive like that. Go to sleep. I’ll watch you.” Jesse pauses. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that in a creepy way. I’ll keep an eye on you while I watch some TV. I won’t sit here and stare at you or—”

  “It’s fine. I know what you meant.” I crawl beneath the sheet on the bed. “But aren’t you tired too?”

  “I am, but if we’re going to Seoul, then I can sleep on the plane.”

  I stare up at the ceiling. “Are you sure you want to be involved in this? You were in the military. Your fingerprints are on file. You could end up going to jail just for helping me at the guesthouse.”

  “I didn’t leave any fingerprints,” Jesse says.

  I swallow back a yawn. “What about DNA?”

  “I tried not to leave much of that either, but either way I’m pretty sure the local police can’t access the military DNA registry without probable cause,” Jesse says. “Plus, it’s a guesthouse. There’s probably a hundred people’s DNA in there.”

  “Good point,” I say. “Just don’t feel obligated to come with me. It could get … ugly.”

  “I know ugly,” Jesse says. “I was miserable before I started working for Gideon. Each morning I got up and went to work in my aunt and uncle’s Mexican restaurant. Every night I went to Krav Maga class, desperate to get out all of my anger in a nondestructive way. Desperate to keep my mind off the past. Working for Gideon made me feel strong again, like I wasn’t worthless. Like I could be more than a victim. So yeah, he and I might not be related by blood, but he was my family and I don’t want Kyung to have that tech any more than you do.” Jesse pauses. “Whatever you’re doing, wherever you’re going, I’m with you, Winter, as long as it takes.”

  CHAPTER 14

  A gentle knocking sound wakes me out of a deep and dreamless sleep. My eyes snap open and for a few seconds, nothing makes sense. Where am I? How did I get here?

  Across the room, Jesse stands in a pair of plaid pajama pants and an army-green T-shirt. He’s talking to someone in the hallway. As if he can sense that I’m awake, he glances back over his shoulder. “It’s okay,” he says. “It’s just room service.”

  That’s right. Jesse helped me escape the guesthouse in K-Town. He moved me to his hotel room. The soft sheets fall away from my body as I sit up in bed and rub my eyes. I run one hand through my hair. “What time is it?”

  The door to the hallway closes with a heavy click. Jesse turns to me. He’s holding a tray stacked with covered plates. “It’s, uh, nine a.m.”

  Once again, it takes me a little longer to process that than I would like. “I slept for an entire day? Why didn’t you wake me?” I lift a hand to the lump on the back of my head. I hope Kyung’s goon didn’t do any permanent damage.

  “Because it seemed like you needed sleep, and it’s not like we could do anything without knowing where the ViSE technology is, right?”

  “And can I assume Baz called?”

  “Yep,” Jesse says with a smile. “It’s in Seoul. He promised he’d call back if anything changes.” Jesse sets the tray on my bed and sits down next to it. He starts pulling lids off plates. “I didn’t know what you’d want, so I hope you like pancakes, French toast, yogurt, an omelet, or mixed fruit.”

  I’m ravenous after not eating for almost a whole day, but my stomach lurches at the combination of colors and smells. “I might just go out and see if I can find some gimbap.”

  Jesse’s face falls a little. “You mean that sushi-looking stuff I’ve seen you eat before?”

  “Yes,” I say. “Same seaweed and rice, but no raw fish. It’s what I normally eat in the morning.”

  Jesse looks down at the tray of food and back up at me, probably wondering what’s wrong with someone who can’t find something she likes among an entire breakfast buffet. “You probably should stay here in case Kyung’s men or the police are looking for you. I could try to go get you some, if you tell me where to find it.”

  He’s breathing kind of heavy, like maybe just carrying the room service tray to the bed was a workout for him. “No,” I say. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. Now that I think about it, fruit and yogurt sounds delicious. This whole room is really nice. I hope it’s not costing you a fortune.”

  “It’s fine. I have some money saved up.”

  I slide out from under the covers and pull out a wad of cash from my backpack. “Take this.” I drop the money next to the tray.

  Jesse hesitates. “You don’t need to pay me for helping you, Winter.”

  “I’ll be getting the building and the club in Gideon’s will, not to mention some stocks, some bank accounts, and the technology if I can steal it back. Money is the one thing I have to offer right now, so please take it.”

  “Okay.” Jesse grabs the wad of bills and shoves it in the pocket of his pajama pants. “But you have more than that to offer, all right?”

  “If you say so.” I spoon some of the cut-up fruit into the bowl of vanilla yogurt and swirl it around with my spoon. Jesse attacks a plate of pancakes with the vigor of a starving man. For a few minutes, we sit next to each other, chewing quietly.

  “I’m guessing you don’t care if I eat the last pancake?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  Jesse reaches for the remaining pancake, spoons some fruit and yogurt on top of it, drizzles a line of syrup down the middle, and then rolls it into a tube. Lifting it carefully, he takes a bite out of the end. He chews, swallows, blots his
mouth with his free hand. “Now that’s good eating.”

  My lips curl at the edges. It’s comforting for some reason that he can find so much joy in little things. “How do you do that?”

  “Do what? Pancake burrito? You just put the fruit and—”

  “No, not pancake burrito. How do you make me smile when it seems like there’s nothing in the whole world to smile about?”

  His shoulders rotate down and back as his whole body seems to perk up in response to the comment. He flashes his teeth at me. “Like you said, we’ve all got our special skills.”

  * * *

  After we finish eating, I make a list of things we’re going to need for Seoul, and Jesse goes out to look for them. I decide to wait and buy more clothes once I get there. I’m not sure how the fashions have changed over the past few years, and it’ll be easier to blend in if I’m dressed like a local. I take a long, hot shower and then grab my phone and call Dr. Abrams on her cell phone. It’s about twelve thirty p.m. in St. Louis. Maybe I can catch her on her lunch break.

  She picks up on the first ring.

  “It’s Winter Kim,” I say.

  “Winter!” When Dr. Abrams says my name, I also sense several different emotions, but mostly concern. “I’m so glad you called. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. I had to go out of town to deal with some things. I just wanted to apologize for missing my appointment. I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “I heard what happened to Mr. Seung. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “Do you have a few minutes? I just have one question.”

  “Sure. Go ahead.”

  “You said you never saw any alters in my sessions with you, right? Is there any way I can determine how many I have?”

  Dr. Abrams clears her throat. “No. There’s no magical way to see into your mind, I’m afraid. Some people have only one. Some people have twenty or more.”

  Twenty or more! I can’t even bear the thought of sharing my body with some part of me who thinks she’s my dead sister. I try to imagine what it would be like if there were twenty other alters competing with her. “Is there a reason one of them might be … violent?”

  There’s a long pause at the other end of the line and some paranoid part of me wonders if her office is full of government agents in black suits telling her to keep me on the line long enough to trace the call. “Dr. Abrams? Are you still there?”

  “Why would you ask that, Winter? Did you have something to do with what happened to Mr. Seung?”

  “I would never hurt Gideon,” I say sharply. “But lately I feel like there’s a … new darkness inside me. Another voice in my head.” You talked about Lily like she was a separate person. I exhale deeply as I look toward the window. I hope Jesse returns soon. “Or maybe she’s always been there, but she’s louder now?”

  “Given everything you’ve gone through, I don’t think the awakening of violent urges or emotions would be out of the norm,” Dr. Abrams says. “But it could be dangerous. You should get help, Winter. If not from me, then from someone wherever you are.”

  “Soon,” I murmur. “I’ll get help soon.”

  Honestly, I don’t know if I’ll be able to move forward after what I’ve learned. I’m caught in this endless loop where all I can think about is revenge and death. That’s what happens when you lose your sister and the closest thing you’ve ever had to a father.

  They were the glue that held together my pieces.

  But I can’t break. Not yet, anyway. There’s work to be done.

  CHAPTER 15

  When Baz calls back later to say the location of the technology hasn’t changed, I call the airport and book Jesse and me on a three p.m. flight to Seoul. Luckily I can afford to fly business class now, and the ticket agent rearranges a couple solo travelers so that Jesse and I can sit next to each other.

  As the plane lifts off, we pass his cell phone back and forth, using the memo function to communicate without anyone else on the crowded plane hearing us.

  Jesse: So what’s the plan when we get there?

  Me: Find a place to stay. Figure out if I really have a brother. Find Kyung. Figure out a way to infiltrate wherever he has the tech. Steal back the tech. Kill Kyung.

  “Oh, is that all?” Jesse elbows me in the ribs as he deletes my words.

  I wince inwardly. My whole body is sore from my fight with Kyung’s men. I feel for the knot on the back of my head and am relieved to find the swelling has gone down. The bruise on my cheek is still visible, but I covered most of it with makeup. “I never said it was going to be easy,” I tell him.

  He taps out another message.

  Jesse: Baz says he’s going to rent us rooms in a hotel where he and I won’t stand out as foreigners.

  Me: I still can’t believe Baz is coming to Seoul to help.

  Jesse: Gideon was his family too. He doesn’t want the ViSE tech used for anything evil.

  Me: Do you trust him? I thought he scared you.

  Jesse: He does scare me. But he got shot trying to protect Gideon, so he’s obviously loyal. And apparently he has military contacts in Seoul. That could be useful …

  Jesse doesn’t have to finish that statement. He means guns. Handguns are almost impossible to get in Korea. All weapons are very tightly regulated. We had to stash his gun and my knives in a safe-deposit box in Los Angeles because bringing them into the country would have meant risking arrest.

  I start typing out a message on the phone, but something outside the window catches my eye. Swatches of white against the previously endless blue sky. Clouds, thin like ribbons. The plane’s wing cuts through them one after the next. Below us, there is only ocean for as far as I can see. So much blue. If the plane went down, the sea would swallow us whole. No one would ever find us. No one would probably even look for me.

  I turn away from the great expanse of blue. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

  “I can’t either.” Jesse scoots closer to me in his seat, our forearms almost but not quite touching on the armrest between our seats.

  “Do you miss him?”

  “Yeah,” Jesse says. “He was this … consistent force in my life. I mean, he had these expectations for me, for all of his staff, and when we didn’t meet them, we heard about it. He was always so strict, but fair. He never played favorites. Well, except for you.”

  I smile through my pain. So many men in Gideon’s situation would have abandoned me. After Rose was killed, he could have left me in Los Angeles or at the airport or at the hospital. So what if he loved Rose? I was nothing like her. I was this confused, violent, broken little girl. He probably should’ve given me up.

  But he didn’t. He took care of me. He made me strong. And sure, he made a lot of mistakes along the way, but what parent doesn’t? Especially if they never asked for a child in the first place.

  “I wish I would have better appreciated the time I had with him,” I say.

  Jesse nods. “Me too.”

  I lower my voice. “He made me a ViSE, like a ‘just in case something happens to me’ message.” A tear rolls down my cheek. It’s on the side by the window and Jesse doesn’t notice. I reach up and brush it away.

  “He was good about preparing for all possibilities, wasn’t he?” Jesse says.

  “He was.” I wonder if Gideon is looking down on me right now with dark, disapproving eyes. I wish to honor his memory, but part of that means making sure the ViSE technology he worked so hard on doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. He would understand me going after the tech. He would be less accepting about me going after Kyung, but he can’t possibly know what it’s like to feel so violated by one human being. Like as long as Kyung walks the earth, I will always be a victim.

  I turn to Jesse. “Thank you for coming with me.”

  “Thank you for letting me.” Jesse smiles awkwardly and then reaches for the phone again.

  Jesse: Do you think you really have a brother somewhere?

  Me
: I don’t know. I still can’t remember my sister ever mentioning him, but after Kyung sent me those pictures, I remembered my mom with a baby. And I think I remember her being pregnant too. I know my memory has tricked me, but only by blocking out the truth—not by manufacturing falsehoods.

  I want my brother to be real. He has to be. Kyung couldn’t have known about my memory gaps. He wouldn’t have tried to trick me if he didn’t have reasons to believe it would work.

  Jesse: If he exists, we’ll find him.

  Me: Just promise me you’ll be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt for me.

  Jesse: I think you’re a little late there.

  He winks at me to let me know he’s kidding. Only Jesse could joke about getting shot. Our arms brush against each other as he turns away. A rush of heat moves through me. Part of me wants to extend the physical contact, reach for his hand. I miss being touched. I miss being held. Jesse would hold me if I asked him to. He’d put the armrest up and wrap his blanket around both of us, sheltering me against his chest. But it’s not fair to use him like that. He wants more than the occasional close moment that happens on my terms—he wants a future, and right now all I can think about is the past.

  * * *

  Jesse and I spend most of the flight watching movies. Eventually he falls asleep and I watch the regular rise and fall of his chest, hoping that the stresses of high altitude and traveling so far away aren’t going to delay his recovery.

  We land at Incheon Airport just after nine p.m. local time the following day. The plane sits for a few minutes because our arrival gate is still occupied. I blink sleepily as I look around my seat and gather my things. Jesse has a red mark on his face from where his cheek was smashed against the headrest while he slept. I resist the urge to reach out and touch it.

  “I can’t believe we’re here,” he says.

  “It’s a long ride to the city,” I remind him. “Plus, we still have to pass immigration and get our luggage.” I’m not too worried about the immigration process. My fake passport should get me into the country fine, but I’m a lot less convinced it’ll get me back to the US.