“How could you call Dual Talents abominations?” I ask. “They’re people just like us. They’re just more evolved.”
“Bridger, you have to be smarter than that. You’ve studied history. You’ve even traveled through history. You know what happens when a group of people become stronger than others. They eventually destroy those who are weaker. Dual Talents, like it or not, are stronger than us. They have an edge over us, and they will destroy us one day. That’s why we’re stopping them now,” Dad says.
“Leithan, don’t tell them anything else,” General Anderson commands, his face turning bright red.
But Grandma goads Dad to keep talking. “How exactly are you planning to do that?”
“We have supporters who’ve helped us develop a bioweapon. It’s a bomb loaded with a virus that will target specific individuals. Since we already have access to every citizen’s genetic material, our scientists have programmed the virus to only infect targeted people. We need to take them out before they hurt us,” Dad says. “And what makes it even better is that, thanks to Jode Lincoln, the Purists will be blamed. Two problems solved with one shot.”
Grandma is too horrified to speak.
I am too. Did Ellis know that my father and Anderson were responsible for the bioweapon? Somehow, I manage to ask, “Where will this bomb be set off?”
“At the banquet the DTA is having tomorrow in honor of the latest Sim Game that’s about to be released. President Tremblay is flying in tonight so he can attend. He wanted to be here in person to see the effects of The Cleansing, since he’s one hundred percent behind it,” Dad says proudly.
Grandma stares at Dad in horror, then looks at General Anderson in disgust. “You two are monsters.”
35
ALORA
APRIL 4, 2147
The restraints holding me to this table are cutting into my wrists. I tug at them anyway. I’ve got to get out of here, somehow. But I can’t, not with this Inhibitor around my neck, courtesy of General Anderson. I remember how he seemed to take great pleasure in snapping the thin metal band in place, telling me that soon I’d be one less problem he’d have to deal with. He’s fast replacing Palmer as my least favorite person ever.
After Bridger and I were captured at the Unity Day bombing, we were forced to shift back to the present, where we were transported to the DTA building and separated. I don’t know where they took him. Maybe he’s in a medical room like I am, waiting to have his memories erased again.
Soon I won’t remember how much this room looks like the one Dad was in when he was resurrected.
My stomach sinks as the door slides open and a young woman in a navy-blue uniform enters. Something about her looks familiar, but that doesn’t matter. She must be the person who’s been assigned to wipe my memories. It’s useless, but I try to shift anyway. Nothing.
The woman activates the lock on the door before coming over to me.
“Please don’t do this,” I say. “Don’t turn me into a Null.”
A hint of a smile touches her lips. “I’m not here to do that.”
I try to flinch away, terrified of what will come next, but instead the woman shocks me by undoing the restraints.
I sit up, rubbing my wrists. “Why did you do that?”
“Because my brother, Telfair, asked me to. And when he asks for a favor, I know it’s serious.”
Suddenly it dawns on me who she’s talking about. “Professor March is your brother, right?”
“Yes. I’m Captain Olivia March.”
“Thank you,” I say as I slide off the table. I feel a bit lightheaded after lying there for so long.
“No problem. Apparently, there are quite a few people out to eliminate Dual Talents. We need to help each other out whenever we can.” She pauses, noticing my jaw dropping. “Yes, I’m also a Dual Talent, like Telfair. Now, moving on, I heard about what you and Bridger tried to do. You can’t do that ever again. You have no idea what the consequences could be.” This time she gives me a look that reminds me of Aunt Grace when she wasn’t happy with me.
“Have you freed Bridger yet?” I ask.
“No. General Anderson is with him, and I think he’s up to something. I checked and the cameras in their room have been shut off. I also know that Bridger is being transferred very soon. They’re going to take him to a shuttle that’s waiting on the roof.”
“I need to get to him. Bridger says his father is going to do something to stop a bioweapon attack, but I’m not sure that he is.”
“Wait, you’re telling me that Leithan Creed is alive?” Captain March asks. “Telfair didn’t say anything about that. He just said Bridger claimed that a bioweapon is supposed to be detonated soon.”
“Okay, this is going to sound strange, but since you’re a Mind Bender, I want you to do something for me.”
“What, exactly?” she asks.
I steel myself for what I’m about to offer. “I want you to read my mind. You need to see what I’ve seen.”
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise, then she nods. “Okay. Just try to relax. It’ll be a little uncomfortable for you.”
That’s the understatement of the year. Pressure builds deep in my head, throbbing against my skull. My fingers grip the table hard.
Finally, the pressure dissipates. Captain March takes a step back, covering her mouth with her left hand. “I had no idea. Tel left a lot of things out when we talked earlier.”
“So, can you help me?” I ask, anxious to get moving.
“I wish I could, but I don’t have enough proof to confront the general. What I can do is pretend I’ve been ordered to escort you up to a shuttle, as well. That way you and Bridger could try to steal it and get away from here.”
“I can get there faster on my own,” I say. I start to activate the cloak on my uniform, but Captain March grabs my arm first.
“Don’t do that!” she cries. “The building is filled with sensors to detect cloaks. You’ll set off an alarm the instant you use one.”
Just great—now I feel like the most juvenile dunce in the world. I should have known that; we’ve talked about those sensors in class. After multiple Unknowns had been detected here over the years—Bridger and me included—techs developed a way to constantly monitor all buildings without having to run periodic scans.
Captain March takes a pair of cuffs out of her pocket. “Hold out your hands. This has to look authentic if it’s going to work.”
Reluctantly, I do as she asks. The cold metal bands click around my wrists. For a moment, I regret listening to her. What if this doesn’t work, and we get caught? But then again, what choice do I have? Staying here and doing nothing isn’t an option, and there aren’t many people in the DTA that I know for certain I can trust. Not anymore.
The next few minutes stretch into eternity after we leave my room. Every time we pass someone, I lower my head, but still I can feel their eyes searching me.
Once we exit the elevator at the topmost level, we enter a small foyer with stairs leading up to a door. Captain March climbs the steps and peers through the small window in the door. “The shuttle is there, but I don’t see anybody with it yet. It’s starting to get dark.”
She turns back to me and reaches into her pocket again, this time pulling out a small square key card. She swipes it across the cuffs and Inhibitor to remove them. Once they’re off, she says, “Keep the key card. You’ll need it for Bridger. Now, go. And good luck.”
“Thank you, Captain,” I say. “You don’t know what this means to me.”
“Hopefully we’ll never have to do anything like this again. I hope this bioweapon attack can be stopped.”
When she gets back into the elevator, I push my way through the door and run across the roof, trying to figure out a strategy. I’m not sure who will be with Bridger. Will it just be General Anderson, or will he have guards with him? And what if they have weapons?
But then I realize that, since I’m on the roof and not inside the building, I can us
e my cloak. At least I’ll have the element of surprise.
I barely have time to press the button and when the door opens again. Bridger comes out first, looking extremely angry. He’s being followed by an older woman, General Anderson, and Bridger’s father. Mr. Creed looks the same as I remember from when I saw him in 2013.
General Anderson orders Bridger and the other woman to stop. Then he calls out, “Alora Mason, I know you’re out here. I checked the surveillance feed and saw that Captain March just escorted you up here.”
Blood rushes in my ears as my heart starts pounding. How could this happen? I stay quiet, hoping he’s just bluffing.
“You might as well come out,” he continues. “Or I’ll be forced to send someone to capture your mother. And I promise it won’t be a pleasant visit for her.”
I hate that man so much. Picturing all the different ways I could hurt him, I lower my cloak and step forward.
Bridger shakes his head and shouts, “Get out of here, Alora! They’re going to set off the bioweapon. The Purists aren’t to blame! You have to get away!”
A trail of fear mixed with anger shoots through me. How could they do that to their own people? “Not without you,” I reply.
Bridger’s father steps forward. “How sweet. I remember what it was like to be young and in love. It sucked because the girl I really loved rejected me. You might know her, Alora.”
It strikes me how messed up this whole situation is. Bridger’s father is showing obvious signs of becoming unstable. He’s wild-eyed and is wearing a maniacal grin, as if he’s enjoying himself.
I swear, this could be the plotline of one of those soap operas Aunt Grace used to watch.
The older woman twists her head around to stare at Bridger’s father. “My son would never act the way you are right now. You must be slipping.”
I get a tiny surge of hope, hearing her say this. So this woman is Bridger’s grandmother. Maybe she can help distract the general and Leithan so I can get Bridger on the shuttle. If I could only get her attention.
Bridger looks at his father, too. “Can Alora go with us? I won’t resist or anything if you let her.”
General Anderson’s mouth curls into a cruel sneer. “There is no way I’m taking a Dual Talent with us. She’s going back in a holding cell, and I’ll deal with her later.”
I focus on Bridger. If I can get the general and Bridger’s father to try to capture me, Bridger and his grandmother can board the shuttle and lock the door. Then I can shift inside with them, and we can leave.
That could totally work. Or it could get me killed.
I steel myself. I have to do it. Locking my gaze on an area just next to the door to the roof, I close my eyes and shift.
When I reappear, I immediately shout, “Get to the shuttle, now!” All four heads swivel to face me.
Bridger falters for a moment, but his grandmother grabs him by the arm and tells him to go. General Anderson runs after them.
That’s when I hear a deep voice from behind me. “Get behind me, Alora.”
I glance over my shoulder and nearly sag in relief. It’s my dad. I have no idea how he got away from Lincoln, but I’m thrilled. But he looks even worse than the last time I saw him. He’s dressed all in black, and he’s clutching his left arm against his chest. I wish desperately that I could hug him, tell him how much I still love him despite what Jode Lincoln forced him to do for so long.
But I can’t right now.
After I scramble to get behind him, Dad raises his right hand at Mr. Creed and beckons for him make a move. “Come on, Creed. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Mr. Creed’s nostrils flare. “I promise, it’s more than you can handle.”
Dad yells for me to get to Bridger, then charges at Mr. Creed. I start to shift, but I’m glued to my spot. It’s devastating to watch our fathers fighting each other, especially since I can see so much pain etched on Dad’s face. Mr. Creed fires his weapon at Dad. Dad shifts behind him, tries to grab Mr. Creed around the neck, but he wrenches away and takes a swing at Dad’s face.
“Alora, go!” Dad shouts, while trying to grab Mr. Creed’s gun.
I finally snap out of my daze, just as Mr. Creed disentangles from Dad.
He charges at me.
Dad yells for him to stop, but he doesn’t listen. I close my eyes, concentrating on Bridger’s face so I can shift directly to him. But before I can, Mr. Creed shoves me hard. I stagger, turning just as I hit the edge of the rooftop’s edge. I lose my balance, and in an instant I tumble over the side.
The last thing I hear is my father crying out my name.
36
ALORA
APRIL 4, 2147
A scream tears out of my throat as I fall. This shouldn’t be happening. This isn’t how I should die.
The ground is fast approaching. I’m going to die unless I do something. Unless I can shift. I stare at the space directly below me, then close my eyes, picturing the pavement below in my mind. Picturing myself, standing there.
Please work. Please.
And then I feel solid ground beneath my feet. My knees immediately buckle, and I crumple to the ground, shaking. I did it. I’m alive.
If Professor Jackson was here, I’d kiss him right now for forcing me to practice this kind of maneuver. But hopefully I’ll never have to do it again.
I look back up at the sky, which is now a swirling mixture of dark blue, purple, pink, and orange. The building is so very tall, like a finger pointing in accusation toward the heavens. I can’t believe I survived falling from there.
But Bridger is still not free. In the distance, the shuttle is a speck against the sky. There’s no way I’m going to try to shift in there. One, I’ve never attempted shifting into a moving vehicle. And two, I don’t want to alert General Anderson and Mr. Creed to the fact that I can shift to a place just by visualizing a person. The fact that I have an almost-unheard-of Talent would really make them hate me even more.
No, I have to wait until they get to their destination, and then I’ll go and free Bridger and his grandmother. I’ll give them an hour, because I suspect they’re not going too far away. Not if what Bridger said is true about them being responsible for the bioweapon.
His words echo like thunder in my brain. I don’t understand why General Anderson and Mr. Creed would want to set off the bioweapon, or why the people who helped them—weapons experts, scientists who specialize in creating biological-based weapons, other DTA personnel—would do it. How could all of them think that people like me are such a threat? It doesn’t make sense. I can understand that coming from Bridger’s father. He’s a clone now. No matter what kind of drugs are developed to stabilize them, it seems like they never work for long, and from his behavior on the roof, he’s obviously started losing his sanity. I think of Halla Fairbanks, and all she has to do to keep Vika from going completely crazy.
And Bridger said his father was working alone, only completing solo assignments. So who’s even monitoring him to see that he’s taking his meds when he needs to?
But it’s harder to explain General Anderson’s behavior. I remember from my trip to 2126 that he spoke out with such hatred against Project Firebird. His prejudice against Dual Talents was obvious. But even knowing that, how could he justify killing innocent people? He’s acting like a psychopath.
I need to warn as many people as possible. Elijah. Tara. Everly. Professor March and his sister. Mom.
Hopefully they’ll believe me.
Suddenly, Dad appears a few feet in front of me. “Oh, thank God you’re alive,” he says. “I tried to shift to you, but I couldn’t at first. I was too angry at Creed. I couldn’t connect to you.”
I rush over to him and throw my arms around him. He winces slightly, favoring his left arm again.
“Are you okay?” I ask, pulling back and gingerly reaching out to touch his arm.
“I’ll be fine,” he says.
“What happened to you since I last saw you? I know that
the feds raided Lincoln’s farm and that both of you got away.”
Dad lowers his gaze. “What else do you know?”
“I know that Lincoln died in the Unity Day bombings.” I pause for a moment, thinking of Zed. “One of my friends was killed in the blast when he was shot.”
Dad turns almost ghost white. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I wish I could have put a stop to everything Lincoln was doing years ago. It’s just …” he trails off. I know he’s remembering Lincoln’s threats to have me killed if he didn’t comply.
“I also heard that one of the bombers got away. Was that you?” I ask in a soft voice.
Dad’s eyes glisten now. “I didn’t have a choice about helping with the bombing. I feel like such a coward. The only thing I’m grateful for at this point is that I was able to shift away without setting my explosives off. I saw Lincoln get shot and killed. When I was shot, I was afraid that if I died my bomb would go off as well, and the blast would take out even more people. So I immediately shifted away.”
“Where did you go?” I ask gently.
“Home.”
He doesn’t have to explain. I know he went to Willow Creek. “You didn’t go back to Aunt Grace’s time, did you?”
“Oh, no. Although, God knows, I’d love to see my sister again. But I would never put her in danger. I just went to the museum they made of her house in this time. I got rid of the explosives, found a doc to patch me up, then holed up for a few days to try to heal. Good thing I came back when I did. You had no business being up there by yourself.”
We both look up at the sky, where the shuttle is flying north, and growing harder to see by the second. “Do you know where they’re going?” Dad asks.
“No, but I know I can get to Bridger. But I think we need to give them a few hours before we shift to them, to make sure they aren’t still in the air when we shift.”
“I’m going with you.”
For the first time in days, I feel happy. I’ve missed having my dad in my life. “Okay,” I say. “But first we need to get Mom, and warn the others about evacuating the city.”
On Through the Never Page 27