Restitution (The Alpha Drive Book 3)

by Kristen Martin

  She continued to squeeze her eyes shut, trying to drown out the negative voices floating through her mind, like tormented souls who hadn’t peacefully moved onto the next life. “Do it,” she demanded as she opened one eye and stuck her arm out.

  He grabbed one of the syringes from the tray. “You know, it’d make me feel better if you’d open both of your eyes.” He shifted uneasily in his chair, the syringe dripping with the bright orange liquid. “Right now, I feel like some mad scientist who’s holding a prisoner against her will.”

  She obliged and opened her other eye, blowing a stray hair from her face. “Just do it.”

  A loud gasp escaped her mouth as the needle pierced her skin. The grey had made her more frail than she’d realized, so the piercing of one needle actually felt like a hundred tiny pin pricks jabbing at her flesh over and over again. As the syringe emptied itself into her bloodstream, she recognized a familiar feeling. Almost immediately, she felt rejuvenated. Revived. Alive.

  Within seconds of the serum leaving the syringe, the grey began to fade, replacing her once dull, lifeless skin with her natural olive-colored pigment. Just from the look on Torin’s face, she could tell it was working.

  “Wow, that was fast,” he breathed.

  “I remember how I felt the very first time Theo injected me with sanaré.” She paused, a smile lighting up her face.

  “And?” he prompted.

  “And how I felt then is exactly how I feel right now, at this very moment.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “We don’t have any time to waste. We need to get to Arizona—to Alexis and Riley—right now.”

  Torin grabbed the other three syringes as she gathered her bag. She reached for his hand as he pulled her up onto the T-Port, their chests touching as they waited for the cool gust of air.

  Let’s hope we’re not too late.

  32

  Byron jumped at the slamming of the front door, his senses on high alert as two pairs of footsteps echoed from downstairs. He pulled the shotgun from behind Alexis’s door, barrel pointed directly at the hallway.

  “Alexis!” a familiar voice yelled.

  Emery. He lowered the shotgun, then wiped the beads of sweat that had started forming along his brow. Ever since his announcement last week, he’d felt on edge after learning that undisclosed FCW supporters were wreaking havoc all over the continental U.S. They’d targeted downtown Chicago first, which wasn’t surprising, but they’d recently started attacking random cities. There was no pattern, no rhyme or reason to these disturbances; hence, the shotgun stationed by his daughter’s door.

  The door flew open and Emery appeared, Torin only a couple of paces behind her. Byron noticed immediately that something was different. Her hands . . .

  They weren’t grey.

  He opened his arms for a hug. She rushed over to him, rocking him back and forth as she squeezed his middle section tightly. “How is Alexis? Is she still alive?”

  “Still alive?” he asked with a concerned look on his face. “Of course she’s still alive. Why would you ask that?”

  She set her gaze on the motionless heap of blankets and pillows. “Just checking. You can never be too sure.” She pulled away from him and knelt by her sister’s bedside, ushering Torin to join her.

  Her movements had a dizzying effect. “What’s going on?” he asked, watching as Torin pulled out a giant syringe filled with bright orange liquid. It was like something out of a nightmare. Byron’s mouth opened in both protest and horror as Torin leaned over Alexis and positioned the needle over her arm. Before he could go any further, Byron grabbed his arm, stopping him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Dad, it’s okay,” Emery soothed. “It will heal her.”

  “Now hold on just a second, young lady,” he demanded. “As brilliant as I think you and Torin both are, you’re about to inject my youngest daughter with something that I’m guessing hasn’t been properly tested yet.”

  “Yes, it has,” she countered, a little too quickly.

  He could tell she was lying. “Emery.”

  She rolled her eyes as she stood up from the floor. “Torin injected me with the serum less than thirty minutes ago. I had the exact same feeling I did in Dormance, the first time Theo administered it. This is it. This is sanaré.” She stood firm. “I need you to trust me.”

  “I do trust you,” he assured, “but we need to take a little time to make sure it doesn’t have adverse side effects.”

  “There’s no time for that,” she grunted.

  He held out his hand to Torin. “Give me the syringe.”

  Torin looked from Emery to Byron, then back at Emery, his eyes wide with alarm.

  “Give me the syringe,” he repeated, harsher this time. His eyes met his daughter’s. They were alight with rage, frustration—and fear.

  When Torin didn’t move, Byron reached for the syringe, but he wasn’t fast enough. Emery swiped it from Torin’s grasp and aimed directly for her sister’s vein. The needle pierced Alexis’s arm.

  Byron lunged at Emery, but Torin caught him mid-step, pushing him backward into the closet door. He flailed his arms, surprised by the boy’s strength, but it was too late. He watched as the empty syringe fell from Alexis’s arm onto the bed, drops of orange staining the white sheets.

  He fell to his knees, his mouth still open in protest. Just as he was about to yell, Alexis’s eyes shot open. Her arms and legs rustled under the covers as she threw them over the bed and brought herself upright. The grey began to fade from her head and neck, disappearing from her chest and arms, until natural color finally reached her legs and feet. In mere seconds, her grey-tinged skin had vanished.

  Torin helped Byron to his shaking feet, then walked him over to his daughter’s bedside.

  “See?” Emery whispered. “I told you.”

  He watched as his youngest daughter turned her hands over and rubbed them together, her eyes brimming with happy tears. He placed a hand on her shoulder. Her big brown eyes met his. “How do you feel?”

  Alexis nodded her head and smiled. “I feel . . . great. I’m not tired anymore.”

  He squeezed her shoulder, then leaned over and embraced her in a heartfelt hug. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”

  Alexis squeezed her father’s hand, then looked up at her sister. “Your grey’s gone, too.”

  Emery sat down opposite her father and took Alexis’s free hand in hers. “You missed quite an adventurous few weeks. We were all over the place. Mom had these journals . . .”

  As Emery explained their latest escapades to her sister, another figure appeared in the doorway. His daughters’ faces lit up. “Riley, look!” They flashed huge grins as they waved their normal-colored hands at her.

  She gave them both a coy smile. “I hope you saved some for me.”

  “Of course we did,” Torin said as he knelt and rummaged through his knapsack. He tossed Emery another syringe. “Have at it.”

  Byron stood from the bed as Riley switched spots with him. Torin was leaning against the doorframe, smiling as he watched the sisters reunite once again. Byron’s eyes drifted to the boy’s feet, to the knapsack he’d just rifled through, the front flap open. Something sharp was sticking out of the side. Without being too obvious, he tried to focus on the object, straining his eyes just to be sure.

  It’s another syringe.

  “Torin,” Byron began as his eyes left the ground, “would you mind fetching Alexis a glass of water? She hasn’t had much to eat or drink, and I don’t want her to fall back into lethargy.”

  “You got it,” Torin said as he turned to leave the room. Byron watched as he stepped onto the T-Port, his body vanishing from sight as he teleported downstairs. He looked over his shoulder at Emery, whose back was still facing him. She was deep in conversation with her sister.

  In one swift movement, he grabbed the knapsack from the floor and pocketed the syringe.
He set the bag back into its original place, then un-tucked his shirt so that it hung over his back pockets. Without saying a word, he slipped out of the room and made his way out the front door before anyone could even notice he was gone. So as to not arouse suspicion, he located the furthest T-Port in the neighborhood and directed it to take him downtown. Within seconds, he’d arrived. He smiled as he approached the doors to 7S Headquarters.

  There was a lot of work to be done.

  33

  The campfire crackled and popped in the brisk Arizona night. Emery sat a few feet away from the flames, curled up in a blanket she should have been sharing with Torin. Across from her, Riley and Alexis were gabbing like old friends, and Riley was busily twisting Alexis’s hair into messy braids. It was nice to see them both acting like their usual selves again.

  She turned to look at the patio door, hoping that maybe her father would appear, but it remained shut. Disappointed, she faced the fire again and tapped the tips of her index fingers together.

  Torin took notice. “Hey,” he whispered as he scooted in closer to her. “Are you okay?”

  She brushed a stray hair from her face. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just wondering where my dad went.”

  He glanced over his shoulder before turning his gaze back to her. “Hmm. He did kind of disappear, didn’t he?”

  She sighed. “Looks like it. I thought he’d want to be here, with all of us, now that Alexis is better.” She smiled as her sister giggled at something Riley said.

  He followed her gaze. “I’m sure he’d be here if he could,” he assured. “I bet something came up at the office.”

  “Yeah.” She shrugged. “I guess.” She knew she sounded indifferent, but deep down, she really cared where her father was. It was strange for him to disappear so suddenly, especially with everything that had happened in the past few hours. She was better. Alexis was better. They’d recreated sanaré. It was time to celebrate and recognize how lucky they all were.

  So why isn’t he here?

  With a heavy heart, she removed the blankets from her lap and grabbed her mug of depleted cocoa from the table. “I’m going to grab some more hot chocolate,” she announced. “Anyone need anything?”

  Riley and Alexis shook their heads, then continued their conversation, while Torin handed her his empty mug. “Extra marshmallows, please.”

  She laughed. “You got it.” The mugs clinked together in her left hand as she trudged over to the patio door. The kitchen was warm and inviting, and the smell of cranberry and cinnamon lingered in the air. She took a deep breath, allowing the sweet fragrance to fill her senses. As she approached SmartMeal, she couldn’t help but notice that Torin’s knapsack was half open on the kitchen counter. A pit formed in her stomach as she opened the bag and dug through its contents with her free hand.

  Something was missing.

  Where’s the extra syringe?

  Feeling panicked, she set the mugs on the counter and checked the bag again. When she came up empty-handed, she dashed toward the patio, the back door creaking as it swung open on its hinges. The noise caught everyone’s attention.

  “Torin,” she called, trying to keep her voice steady. “Can you come here for a second?” She tapped her foot as he slowly stood up from the chair, stretching his ams and legs along the way.

  Oh for Pete’s sake.

  “Hurry up,” she grunted once he was close enough to hear her. She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, shutting the door quickly behind them.

  Torin tilted his head, clearly confused by her sudden change in behavior. “What’s got you all worked up?”

  “Where’s the other syringe?” She hoped that maybe he’d placed it somewhere or had hidden it, perhaps in the bathroom or in a random drawer. Her hopes sank as he pointed to the knapsack on the kitchen counter.

  “It’s in my bag.”

  She grabbed his arm again and pulled him closer. “Really?” she questioned, a little more harshly than she’d intended. “Where? Because I don’t see it.”

  She watched as he searched the bag, his hands frantically shifting various objects from their original places. “I don’t understand. It was in this bag when we got here. I saw it when I pulled out the syringe for Riley.”

  The pit in her stomach grew even deeper, but before she could say anything, her phone rang. She held her hand up to pause the conversation as a hologram of Naia’s face appeared.

  “Emery?”

  Her heart sank when she saw the concerned expression on Naia’s face.

  “You’re going to want to get down here. And fast.”

  + +

  Fifteen minutes and a quick fib to Riley and Alexis later, Emery and Torin found themselves in the middle of downtown Chicago, in front of 7S Headquarters.

  “I still don’t understand what’s going on,” Torin whispered as he followed her to the front of the building.

  “I don’t either, but I think I have a hunch. I just hope Naia won’t confirm what I’m thinking.”

  “And what’s that?”

  She turned and looked at him with a grave expression. “I’m afraid that if I say it out loud, it’ll make it true.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Em. You know I hate being in the dark.”

  She ignored him as a familiar petite figure exited the building and made a beeline right for them. Without stopping, Naia breezed right past them. “Well come on, then!” she called without slowing her pace.

  Emery and Torin looked at each other, then jogged after her. They followed her a few blocks in the blustery wind until they arrived at a café.

  “In here,” Naia ordered as the door slid open.

  The café was completely deserted which, Emery realized, was probably exactly why Naia had brought them there. To a non-crowded undisclosed location. This definitely isn’t good news.

  Naia led them to a table, then placed an order via SmartMeal. Tense silence filled the air as the mugs of tea materialized beneath the machine.

  “So, how have you been?” Torin asked in an effort to break the uncomfortable silence.

  Emery nudged him in the side, then rolled her eyes. “Ignore him,” she said as she warmed her hands on the mug. “Is everything okay?”

  Naia shook her head, her blonde hair shaking violently with the movement. “It’s your father. He’s asked me to do something I’m highly uncomfortable with.”

  Emery felt a lump form in her throat. “What’s that?”

  “Well, he showed up not too long ago with an orange syringe that I recognized immediately to be sanaré.” She narrowed her eyes and pointed her index and middle fingers at them. “I’m guessing you two figured out the formulation?”

  Torin nodded with pride, and it took everything in Emery to not stomp on his foot underneath the table. “We only did it to cure my own condition, and my sister’s.

  “And Riley’s,” Torin interjected.

  “We filled a fourth syringe for safekeeping,” she continued, ignoring him. “Just in case.”

  “Just in case.” The words spewed from Naia’s mouth as if they were poison. “Per your father’s instruction, my team has figured out a way to imitate the serum without having the actual formulation or the ingredients.” She paused, either for dramatic effect or to allow the information to sink in. “Behind my back.”

  Emery bit a hangnail from her thumb. “That’s not possible. You have to have the ingredients in order to make sanaré . . . they’re ingredients, for crying out loud! And you have to have the formulation in order to ensure the proper ratios.”

  Naia shook her head sadly. “Not with the IFT X4. All it takes is one drop of sanaré and we can create an infinite number of batches. The ingredients and their ratios are essentially cloned, so there’s technically no need for raw ingredients or original formulations.”

  Emery’s mouth dropped open. “What? How is this the first time I’m hearing of this? I can’t believe my dad’s been working on thi
s the whole time! Without telling me, or you!” Her head fell into her hands and she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the pressure would somehow rattle some sense into her brain.

  “So, wait a second,” Torin said slowly, “you’re saying that as long as you have a single drop of sanaré, you can create hundreds and hundreds of batches without the formulation or the ingredients?”

  Naia nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “And that’s a bad thing . . . why?”

  Emery’s head shot up. “This is what we were arguing about earlier. By having sanaré, which is essentially a cure-all, we’re basically acting as a higher being. We’re not supposed to have that much power.”

  “And like I said before,” he countered, “maybe you need to give it a chance. Maybe this will be a good thing.”

  She stuck her lower lip out. “That’s really naïve of you to say.”

  “I agree with Emery,” Naia affirmed. “Sanaré gives humankind too much power. This could go downhill really fast.”

  “Negative Nancys over here,” he murmured as he took a swig of his tea. “We should just let it play out.”

  Emery ignored him and turned her attention to Naia. “Do you happen to have the syringe with you?”

  “Your father won’t let it out of his sight.” She sighed. “And to make matters worse, he’s already started mass producing. He plans to start distributing tomorrow morning.”

  Emery groaned. “You have to be kidding me. How can he possibly move this fast?” It’s like he’s had it planned all along. The mere thought was paralyzing.

  “What’s his distribution plan?” Torin asked.

  “Starting tomorrow, he’ll distribute to all of the Midwest, then work his way outward, until he reaches the East and West coasts.”

  “And after that?” Emery croaked, already knowing the answer.

  Naia’s mouth pressed into a harsh line. “Global distribution.”