“Sounds good to me,” Zed chirps. He turns to me and pretends to look all serious. “That is, if Mr. Creed over there decides to honor us with his divine presence.”
Elijah snort-laughs. I glare at both of them. Of all the nights, they just had to stay in here with me tonight. Usually they prefer to do other things. Elijah is really into lifting weights, while Zed spends a lot of time in the common room or the Virtual Reality room.
Why didn’t I tell Alora to come later, when I’m sure they’ll both be asleep?
Elijah and Zed are reclining on the black couch in the living room of our quarters, while I can’t stand still. Ever since I got back from the cafeteria, I’ve been too nervous to sit anywhere for long. I even straightened up my bedroom and finished unpacking from my trip with Grandma and Shan.
A quick peek at my DataLink reveals that it’s now 7:15. Ten minutes after the last time I checked. Alora should be here in fifteen more minutes. I’d rather be in my room right now. But knowing Zed and Elijah, if I don’t socialize with them for a while, they’ll keep aggravating me until I come out.
So social time it is.
“We’ve never gone to The Silver Lining,” Zed says. “Now that we’re all eighteen, we can get in. I vote for that.”
“Works for me,” Elijah says with a grin. “I’m sure Tara wouldn’t mind meeting me there.”
“I knew there was something going on between you two,” Zed squawks. “Details, my man. Details.”
A chime sounds throughout our quarters, and I turn to face the door as it slides open. My mother strides in without waiting for a welcome. I groan. Not now. I can’t deal with her, too—especially knowing how she’s been lying to me.
“Is that any way to greet your mother, Bridger?” she asks, crossing her arms. She’s still in her field uniform, so she must have come straight here when she got back from Louisiana.
I reply, through gritted teeth, “I have a headache.”
“That’s your standard response for everything lately, isn’t it?” she says, taking in the area. All of our coats are tossed on the small table in the corner of our kitchenette. Food containers litter the countertop, some empty, some half-full. “I see that you three haven’t learned how to keep the place clean yet.”
While her back is turned, Zed holds his fingers over his head to make devil horns. Elijah has to smother a laugh. A part of me wants to smile, too, but I’m too damn pissed.
“So … Mother … what brings you here?” I ask.
She turns to face me again. Her features relax into something like a look of caring. “Really? Purists are wilding out all over the country and you want to know why I’m checking in on you?”
I start to tell her exactly what I’m thinking, but I bite back the words. Maybe I should give her the benefit of the doubt. “Okay, fine. I’m sorry. But you could have just commed me.”
“You know, your brother was more than happy to see me. He told me all about your trip with Judith this weekend. I can’t believe the nerve of that woman, taking both of you out there! It isn’t safe to do things like that anymore.”
And just like that, any semi-warm feelings evaporate. The more she gripes, the more my blood pressure rises. I begin to breathe harder. My pulse pounds a furious rhythm. No, this can’t happen now. I try to talk myself down. Tell myself that I’ll be fine. But I can’t make the weight on my chest go away. I can’t make my heart stop racing.
I vaguely hear Mom calling my name. As I pass them, Elijah and Zed stare at me like I might shatter into a million pieces. Maybe I will. It certainly feels like it.
I somehow make it to my bedroom. Inside the top drawer of my dresser, I paw through my skivvies until I find the wooden box that contains my Calmer. My fingers are shaking as I grab a vial of the golden liquid and inject it into my neck.
Immediately, my breathing slows and the pressure on my chest eases up. I lay my palms against the dresser and lean my head down, waiting for my muscles to fully relax.
“Are you all right?” Mom asks from the doorway to my bedroom. She looks a little shaken. I guess no one would want to have their son wild out.
I almost snap at her, but I remember Alora will be here soon. I check my DataLink and nearly choke. It’s almost seven-thirty.
I have to get rid of my mom, and now.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’ve just been under a lot of pressure lately with my workload, then all this crap with the Purists and the protests. I guess it’s making me a little irritable.”
For a moment, I think she’s not going to buy the lie. She frowns and purses her lips. “Honestly, I really don’t blame you. I’d forgotten how intense this level at school can be. But try not to be so antagonistic toward me all the time. I’m your mother, not your enemy.”
It sure seems that way sometimes, but there’s no point saying that to her unless I want a fight. I stand up straight and paste on a smile. “You know, I am feeling better now.” I brush past Mom and reenter the living room. Zed is still sitting on the couch, looking like the irritation might kill him.
“Where’s Elijah?” I ask.
“In his room. He had a call from a certain lady friend,” Zed says with a wolfish smirk. He starts to say something else, then his eyes flick to where Mom is standing.
I whirl around, terrified that Alora may have appeared behind her. But it’s just Mom.
And I need to get her away from my bedroom.
My mind is a jumble of thoughts. What can I say to get her to leave—or at least to get away from the room where Alora’s about to appear? Think, Bridger, think.
“You guys, I’m burning up. Do you want to go outside with me?” I blurt out. It’s the first thing that comes to mind, and strangely enough, it’s the truth. I feel as if I’m on fire.
Mom’s hurries over to me and places her hand on my forehead. It’s strange, having her act so maternal. Reminds me of my childhood, when she liked me a hell of a lot more than she does now.
“You’re a little warm. But that’s to be expected with the Calmer,” she says as she lowers her hand. “Maybe you should sit for a while.”
“Yeah, Creed,” Zed says, “It’s way too cold outside right now. I have no idea how you survived camping the past few days.”
Mom’s expression darkens again. My fists clench as I mouth “You’re an idiot” to Zed. He just shrugs.
Elijah emerges from his bedroom. “So, what’s going on?”
“Don’t ask,” I say, still glaring daggers at Zed.
“Eh, sounds like I didn’t miss much,” Elijah says. I glance back at him. He’s smiling as he walks past the doorway to my bedroom, but then something inside seems to catch his attention. He does a double take and his jaw drops.
My pulse begins to race.
Alora must have just appeared.
17
ALORA
FEBRUARY 14, 2147
The instant I materialize in Bridger’s bedroom, I wonder if I made a mistake. I wonder if I’m even in the same room—it has the same green blanket on the bed, the same white walls, the same furniture that looks similar to my own. But what if all the rooms in the boys’ hall look like this? And if I am in the right room, then where’s Bridger? I thought he would be in here to meet me.
The sour feeling I’ve had in my stomach for most of the day intensifies. I shouldn’t have done this. What if I’m caught by whatever professor is on Warden Duty over here? Or what if Bridger’s roommates see me? How are we going to explain my being in here?
I close my eyes for a moment and tell myself to relax. My space-bending skills are strong, so I’m certain I’m in the same room I materialized in earlier today, even though I have no idea how I did that just by thinking about Bridger. I still can’t get over it. Like, I’ve been taught Space Benders can only bend by visualizing where they want to go, not who they want to go to.
Voices filter in from the outside the open door. I’m trying to decide if I should stay put or peek out to see who’s talking when an unfa
miliar boy walks past the doorway. I stand still, hoping he doesn’t notice me, but I have absolutely zero luck today so of course he does.
It’s almost comical how his expression morphs from irritation to shock in a few seconds, his mouth parting in surprise. He glances over his shoulder and calls out, “Hey, Bridger, can I borrow your new blue shirt? I … think I might have a date this weekend.”
Crap, no, he can’t come in here. I close my eyes, trying frantically to get a clear mental image of my bedroom so I can shift back.
But before I can, he’s by my side, whispering, “It’s okay. I won’t say anything. But you might want to hide again so we can get rid of Bridger’s mother.”
Hide again? Jeez, he must think I came in here earlier and have been hiding this whole time. I don’t know why I get the urge to laugh. This is insane, getting myself into this mess. I smother the laugh, because I’m sure it would make me look irrational, and just nod. The boy waves me over to a tiny closet in the corner, where I squeeze in between the hanging clothes. Before leaving, he gives me an incredulous look. “I can’t wait to hear why you’re here.”
At first, all I can think about is how stupid it is for me to stay put in Bridger’s closet. There’s no telling how long it will take for him and his friends to convince his mother to leave. But oddly enough, something about being surrounded by Bridger’s clothing comforts me. It smells like him: sort of like being outdoors. It reminds me of the time we spent together back in Willow Creek. Of how close we got, in such a short time.
I wonder if we’ll ever be that close again.
The voices start to get louder, and then I hear footsteps crossing the room. I try to shrink back as far as I can.
“Alora, are you still in there?” Bridger calls in a soft voice.
Relief floods through me as I push my way out of the closet and stumble right into him. His arms immediately wrap around me, pulling me into a strong embrace. Instinctively, I hug him back. It feels good to be here—it feels right, somehow.
“How did you get your mom to leave?” I say.
“My roommates helped with that. They told her that we have a huge exam tomorrow and that we all needed to study.”
“Well, well, isn’t this a surprise.”
Bridger and I jump apart as if struck by an electrical current. Two boys are standing in the doorway to Bridger’s bedroom—the tall boy who hid me and a shorter, wiry guy with spiky black hair.
“So, are you going to introduce us?” the taller one asks.
Bridger’s face flushes. “Don’t mind those two clowns. They’ll leave us alone.”
The shorter one—the one who spoke the first time—places his hands across his heart and says, “Aw, man, Bridger, you’re killing me.” He focuses his attention on me. “And since Bridger is clearly going to be rude, I’ll make the intros. I’m Zed Ramirez, and he’s Elijah Beckett,” he says, gesturing to the tall guy. “We’re the roommates.”
“I think she gets that,” Bridger mutters, running his hands through his hair. “Would you two mind giving us some privacy?”
“Oh, no, you’re not getting rid of us that easily,” Zed replies. He saunters into Bridger’s room and plops down on the bed. “I have some questions. And the first one is, why the hell are you hiding a chick in here who looks exactly like Vika? Don’t you think that’s … weird, to put it mildly?”
Bridger blows out a few puffs of air and stares hard at Zed, then at Elijah, as if that will make them go away. Then his shoulders slump and he shakes his head slowly. “This is so furing messed up.” His eyes seek out mine, looking so defeated. “Do you have the Mind Redeemer with you?”
“Wait, what?” Elijah asks. “You have a Mind Redeemer? How is that possible?”
“It’s a long story,” Bridger says.
“Bridger, what are you doing?” I ask, my voice high-pitched.
“It’s okay, we can trust them,” he replies.
Heat flares in my face and spreads through my body. Trust them? Bridger wants me trust two boys that I don’t even know? I grab his arm and pull him to a corner of the room. “Have you lost your mind? Why did you bring up the Mind Redeemer in front of them?”
He quickly explains that Zed and Elijah knew everything about his plans to save my life last year and even assisted in his escape when he was captured by the DTA. And now, while they know my name and my official story, they obviously don’t know the whole truth.
So they’ve had their memories wiped, too. God, I’m hating the DTA more and more every day that I’m here.
I glance over at Zed and Elijah, who both seeming to enjoy being in the spotlight. “I’m sorry I flew off the handle like that.”
“It’s fine,” Elijah says. “We’re strangers to you. But it doesn’t have to be that way.”
“Same here,” Zed chimes in. “We can all hang out and raise hell together.”
I find myself smiling, despite my reservations. Maybe I can learn to trust them. These guys seem loyal. Not like my last so-called friend, Sela. The one who ditched me to raise her social status at school.
“So … do you have the Mind Redeemer here or not?” Bridger asks me.
“No, it’s hidden in the same place,” I reply. “But it won’t take me long to get it.”
By the time I shift to my bedroom at Mom’s apartment and return, only a few minutes have passed, but I’m sweating. While I was at Mom’s house, I overheard her talking to someone on her DataLink, which reminded me that she’ll be checking in with me close to my curfew time.
It takes five minutes to restore Zed and Elijah’s memories. The process is painful for them, but doesn’t take as long because apparently the DTA only erased their memories of helping Bridger escape and taking him to Georgia. They’d been told that Bridger officially had his nervous breakdown just prior to the camping trip in which they had covered for him.
To say that Zed and Elijah are furious at the DTA is a huge understatement. Elijah scowls and lets out a string of swear words.
“I just … I feel so violated.” Zed slams his fist against the mattress. “I’m sorry for acting like such a dick to you, Bridger. I didn’t know.”
Bridger shrugs. “None of us did,” he says. “Whoever is behind cloning our fathers and Vika did this to us. They need to pay for it.”
“How are we supposed to do that?” Elijah asks. “You know, a cover up of something like that would have to come from the top of the DTA. We’re not talking about some lowly peon.”
Bridger goes to his closet, extracts his portacase, and takes it over to the bed, where he extracts two DataDisks. “Okay, this is going to sound weird, but I met a guy while I was on the camping trip with Grandma and Shan. And he told me some wild stuff. Like, that the world is about to end.”
Zed leans close to Bridger, making like he wants to feel his forehead. “You feeling okay? ’Cause that sounds completely bonkers.”
Bridger knocks his hand away. “I’m not joking, you guys.”
“I don’t know, man, I have to agree with Zed on that one,” Elijah says.
A part of me agrees with Zed and Elijah, but with everything that’s happened to me in the past year, who can say what’s crazy and what isn’t?
Scowling, Bridger says, “If you two would shut up, I could explain. So, I was going fishing and this guy just appeared in front of me in the woods. His clothes were really worn, he had a breathing apparatus, and here’s the kicker—he said he was from our future, and a bioweapon is going to detonate here sometime soon. It’s going to be bad.” Bridger looks down, his face growing pale.
After a few seconds, Elijah asks, “Exactly how bad?”
Bridger lets out a shaky breath. “It’s going to kill the majority of Talents and a huge chunk of the Gen Mod population. Worldwide.”
My stomach gets a sinking sensation. That can’t be true. I didn’t survive a murder attempt just to die in a bioweapon attack. I try to laugh it off. “Are you serious? Was it somebody just pulling a prank?”
“He was cloaked, guys.”
“So what?” Zed pipes up. “Lots of people have Jewills even though they’re not supposed to. That guy could have had one. Hell, he could have been a Purist just messing with you.”
“I thought the same thing at first,” Bridger says. “But then I saw the information on the DataDisks. And he kept saying he was going to try to stop it from happening, and just in case he couldn’t, he wanted my family and Alora to go to a secure location.”
“Hey, what about us?” Zed says in an irritated voice.
“I dunno. That’s just what he told me. But I don’t like it at all.”
Even though my stomach is still in knots, I’m not sure what to think. “How do you know he’s telling the truth?” I ask. “Something about that seems kind of off, don’t you think?”
Elijah plucks the bronze DataDisk out of Bridger’s hand and examines it. “I agree with Alora, man. That’s crazy. Did you at least check these out?”
“Of course I did.” Bridger reaches in the portacase again, this time taking out a pair of Virtual Lenses. “I had to take these from Shan when he was asleep. If I’d asked to borrow them, the little tyrant would have demanded credits.”
“You didn’t have to take his. I have a pair here,” Zed says.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t know for sure if you still had them,” Bridger replies.
Zed rolls his eyes. “That’s because you haven’t wanted to be around us much lately. Ring any bells?”
Bridger looks down for a moment before handing the lenses to me. “I think you should see this first, since Ellis mentioned wanting to save you, too. And trust me, it’s really disturbing.”
I take the bronze DataDisk from Elijah and insert it into the slot on the left side of the lenses. I’m familiar with these because my tutors in Chicago used Virtual Lenses to introduce me to modern society while keeping me safely enclosed behind DTA walls.
I slip the lenses over my head, pausing to insert the ear buds, and then activate them. Bridger’s room disappears, and I’m dropped into the middle of what looks like a war zone. I’m walking down a sidewalk in a city, surrounded by destruction. Damaged skyscrapers and other buildings, many peppered with faint graffiti that looks like blue flames. Rubble everywhere, Jumbotrons full of holes or hanging askew. A few people are walking around aimlessly, looking shell-shocked. Some are crying, some are pawing through the rubble, searching for who knows what.
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