by Susan Hatler
“You will,” I said, smiling up at him.
He gazed back at me, rubbing his knuckles along my jawbone. “But what if the body gets recognized?”
Huh. I hadn’t thought of that. It’s not like Jonathan’s driver’s license would match. And how would he explain to his friends and teachers and cousins and stuff that he had a new body? Not everyone was as believing as my friends.
“I know,” he said quickly. “My dad’s earned bank from Maisy’s Meow, which is even being made into a movie. Maybe he can loan me the money to reimburse that company for whatever this body cost.”
“That’s an option. Plus, whatever it costs for that body is worth it.” I tried not to stare at the bare chest in front of me, but it was hard not to. Brynne was right. For an artificial body, it looked very real. Different from the photo I’d seen on the Internet with those gorgeous emerald green eyes peering at me, but I’d get used to it just like Jonathan would.
Owen glanced in the rear-view mirror as we crossed the Bay Bridge. “If you don’t mind, I’d be very interested in taking a sample of your blood to analyze. My dad’s a doctor, so everything will be properly sterilized.”
“Now is not the time to bring that up, Owen,” Brynne said, moaning as if she couldn’t believe he’d suggest that. “Jonathan just got his own body. Let him get used to it before you start experiments.”
I couldn’t help giggling. The suggestion was just so Owen.
“We’ll see, buddy,” Jonathan said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You risked a lot by helping me. I literally owe you my life.”
“Nonsense.” Owen shook his head, but emotion flickered across his face. “Any one of us would take those kinds of risks for each other. That’s what friends are for.”
Something warmed inside my tummy. “Stop before you make me cry,” I said, deeply touched by his statement. Now that Jonathan had a body, maybe the four of us could go out. Owen had done a double-take on Brynne at Nicole’s house, and I’d caught him stealing several peeks at her during the car ride. There could be hope for them yet.
Owen took the first San Felipe exit, glancing at his rear-view mirror with a frown.
“What is it?” Brynne asked.
He kept his gaze on the road, flipping his indicator to turn right toward the high school. “Don’t turn around, but there’s a black sedan behind us. Seems like it’s been following us for awhile.”
“I’m sure you’re being paranoid,” I said, but fear crawled up my spine. He had always spouted totally random things like that, but hadn’t some of them proved to be true? Like a secret artificial body operation?
Jonathan must’ve been thinking the same thing I was, because his grip tightened around me. “Pull over,” he said, firmly.
Owen completed his right turn, then tapped his indicator again, and pulled to a stop at the side of the road. I turned slightly in my seat, and held my breath. A black sedan with tinted windows approached slowly . . . then rolled by us down the street. It made a left turn at the stop sign then disappeared.
I let out the breath I’d been holding, and laughed. “You actually had me a little freaked there.”
“That’s what Owen does best,” Brynne said, smiling over her shoulder. She looked noticeably relieved though so I think we were all a little on edge.
This had been a pivotal, but stressful day. I couldn’t wait for it to be over so we could go back to a regular life. I’d drop my comic strip contest form in the mail tomorrow—I promised myself but still felt anxiety shoot up my spine—and then maybe Jonathan and I could go out after since we had a lot to celebrate, just like normal teenagers.
I let out a heavy sigh as Owen pulled into the high school parking lot, which was empty this time of night except for my loan car at the far end. We were only a few car lengths away when it happened.
Out of nowhere, black sedans zoomed toward us from all directions. They screeched to a halt and blocked our path, their headlights pointing at our car. Owen slammed on the brakes, jerking all four of us forward in our seats.
“We’re surrounded,” Jonathan said, squinting from the bright lights as his gaze darted around. “One guess what they’re here for.”
We exchanged a look. “They want their million-dollar military man back,” I said.
“There must be a tracking device on the body,” Owen mumbled, watching wide-eyed as the doors of the black sedans swung upon, revealing uniformed men. Each one held a gun pointed directly at us.
“What should we do?” I asked, my voice trembling. I grasped Jonathan’s hand, tight.
“Keep your hands in the air and exit the vehicle!” a loud voice echoed, indicating they were using a megaphone.
“Guys? I’m kind of scared,” Brynne said, her bottom lip trembling.
Owen squeezed Brynne’s hand, then lifted his palms. “They’re armed. We should do what they say.”
“I’m sorry.” Jonathan twisted around, checking behind us, but all we could see were pairs of headlights. “It’s me they want. I’ll just step out of truck.”
“No,” I said, grabbing onto his arm. “You need this body. Maybe we can explain to them—”
“The body in your vehicle is a lethal weapon!” the deep voice bellowed. “It has malfunctioned and must be destroyed. Please exit the vehicle so we can protect you.”
“So much for small talk,” Jonathan mumbled.
I pressed my fingers to my temples. “This is happening too fast. We need time to form a plan.”
Jonathan gripped me above the elbows. “There are actually guns pointed at us. The only plan is to get you guys out of this safely.”
“Owen?” I asked, hoping his analytical brain had an idea.
He shook his head. “We’re trapped. Our only option is to surrender.”
Brynne held her hands high, and turned to face me. “Amy?”
My eyes blurred as I stared at my friend. “I’m staying with Jonathan.”
Jonathan’s brows came together, but his gaze shot to Owen’s in the rear-view mirror. “You and Brynne should go.”
Owen’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. Brynne and Owen opened their doors simultaneously, stepped out with their hands in the air, then pushed their doors shut with their hips. They hadn’t taken two steps before the uniformed men pounced on them, quickly leading them away.
“Let the girl go!” the voice boomed from outside.
“Leave us alone!” I yelled, but I didn’t know if they could hear me since I wasn’t using one of those megaphone thingies.
“They think I’m keeping you in here,” Jonathan said, closing his eyes briefly. “If they storm the vehicle, you might get hurt. It’s time for you to go.”
I stared into those artificial blue eyes, unable to believe that five minutes ago I’d thought our problems were solved. Now guns were pointed at us. Uniformed men were threatening our lives. “How are we going to get out of this?”
“We’re not.” He gazed down at me, his eyes filled with resolve. “You are. Do this for me, Amy. Please.”
I couldn’t. I really, really couldn’t. But then I saw the flicker of emerald green deep within the blue eyes and I knew. I had to do what he was asking. For him. “Fine, I’ll get out.” My throat constricted and I tightened my grip on his arms. “But not until you vacate this body. They think it’s dangerous, and they’re going to destroy it. If you’re in it when they do, then you’ll pass on.” I choked out the words, tears burning behind my eyes. “So you’ll stay in the zombie zone until we figure something else out. That’s the new plan.”
His fingers brushed my cheek. “This isn’t a life for you. You deserve more than I can give you. Promise me you’ll tell your mom about your comic series. I saw your argument with her after the cemetery. She’s worried because she cares about you.”
I shook my head. “She cares about her new family. I’m invisible to her.”
“Then make her see you like I made you see me.” He lifted my chin. “Let her see who you are, because
the girl I see . . . she’s pretty incredible,” he whispered, then he brushed his lips against mine—sending tingles of magic through me despite the chaos outside.
“This is your last chance!” the voice blared. “Exit the vehicle or we will open fire!”
Jonathan turned away from me and reached for the door handle.
“No!” I dove across his lap, my fingers grappling for the handle. “Go to the zombie zone, Jonathan. Even if that’s all we have, it’s better than nothing. Think of the people who love you,” I sobbed, locking my fingers around the handle.
His hand wrapped around mine, twisting my fingers away. “If I love you, I’ll let you go.”
Then the door opened, and he slipped out from beneath me. My chest hit the seat, then the door banged closed against my head as the crackle of gunfire burst. Shot after shot, and then there was silence.
An animal-like sound escaped my mouth. I scrambled to my knees, pushed open the door, and saw the muscular artificial body lying face-down on the ground—not moving. Then uniformed men swarmed the body, covered it with a tarp, and carried it away as I knelt on shaky knees, my mind going numb.
“Are you hurt, miss?” one of the men said. He helped me to my feet, shined a tiny flashlight in my eyes, and checked me over. As I swayed, he lowered me back down until I was sitting in the back of Owen’s truck. “She’s fine,” he said to someone, then strode away.
I stared as the men poured liquid over the pavement where Jonathan’s body had been. The pungent smell of bleach wafted up my nose. The world blurred as I heard a scatter of car doors close, then the sound of tires peeling away ratcheted through my head. The uniformed men had gone. They’d left me, Brynne and Owen behind and had taken Jonathan.
Suddenly, a small pair of hands clasped around mine. “I’ll sit in back with her.” Brynne’s voice sounded soft like angel’s, but it did nothing to ease the pain ripping through me. “Drive Amy home first, and I’ll call her mom on the way. We’ll get our cars tomorrow.”
“All right,” Owen said, then car doors clicked shut, and the engine started.
Brynne’s fingers stroked my hair as I curled into her lap, and sobbed.
****
The drive from San Felipe High’s parking lot to my neighborhood drizzled by in a blur of tears. Everything moved in slow motion. Brynne’s hand rubbing my back. Her supposed-to-be comforting words. Murmurs by Owen. By the time we pulled up in front of my house, my head was empty, my body numb. He waited in the truck as Brynne led me up the walkway.
As we approached, my mom opened the door and inhaled audibly. “What happened?” she asked.
“I’d rather let Amy tell you,” Brynne said, her around gripping around my waist as she led me up the stairs to my room. She helped me sit on the bed, then pulled my shoes off one at a time before she glanced up at my mom. “I can stay with her.”
My mom shook her head. “I’ll take it from here.”
Brynne leaned down, and brushed my hair behind my ear. “Call me if you need me, sweetie.”
It took all of my effort to nod my head. Then I watched her leave the room, her blond hair swinging behind her until she disappeared. I rolled over, bringing my knees up to my chest so I was in the fetal position. If only I could feel that heated energy in the room right now—that feeling like someone was watching me.
But there was nothing. The room was empty.
Jonathan was dead.
“What in the world is going on?” my mom asked.
I figured she was glaring down at me but I didn’t look up. “Nothing. I want to be alone.”
Instead of leaving, she grabbed the back of the chair by my desk and pulled it close to the bed. She sat down, her hands clasped together in her lap. “The school called me this evening. They wanted to let me know that you’d missed your second day of after-school detention. What did you get in trouble for now?”
I groaned, rolling over. Mrs. Beckencourt’s lame detention was the least of my worries right now. “Could you come back and torture me tomorrow? In case you can’t tell, I’m having a bad day.”
“Talk to me, Amy. Tell me what you’re upset about.”
“So you can criticize me like you always do?” I said, then Jonathan’s words echoed through my head. Let her see who you are, because the girl I see . . . she’s pretty incredible. Hearing his phantom voice brought fresh tears to my eyes, and I tucked my face into my pillow. She’s worried because she cares about you. Yeah, right. Jonathan didn’t know what he was talking about. “It’s not like you care about me.”
Just like Jonathan didn’t care, or else he wouldn’t have left me. He would have gone into the zombie zone instead of dying. But even as I thought those bitter words, I knew that wasn’t true. He’d let himself pass on for me. Because he thought I deserved more than just a spirit without a body. Only he was wrong. He was so wrong. And now the room felt empty because nobody was here to see me.
“Of course I care, honey,” my mom said, her tight voice breaking into my thoughts. She scooted her chair closer. “You just keep pushing me away.”
“Because you don’t see me anymore. Not since Dad left.”
“What are you saying . . .?” Her voice drifted off.
“You don’t want me now that you have your new life.” I sat up, swiping at the tears streaming down my face. Now that I’d admitted my fear to her, the pain inside me spilled over and I wanted to let all of the hurt out. “You have your new husband, your new child, and it’s like I don’t even exist.”
I’d kept that statement from her for years to avoid an argument about it. Now I waited for her to criticize me. To tell me it was my fault. To ground me like she always did.
Instead, she sat perfectly still. She stared at me with her gray-blue eyes, the exact same shade as mine. Then she leaned forward. “I see you, Amy.”
My throat turned raw, and I shook my head. “You don’t.”
“Yes,” she said, firmly. “I always see you. I saw how hard it was for you when your dad left. How you hid in your room, pushing me away. I saw you when I married your stepdad. You tore up the bridesmaid dress I’d bought for you, wanting no part of that special day. I saw you when your little brother was born, and you refused to go to the brother-sister photo session I’d arranged. I saw how in pain you were.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but there was nothing I could say. Listening to my mom, really listening, made me see everything through her eyes. And the view looked totally different.
“I saw you when your dad got that traveling photographer job at the beginning of your freshman year. I saw how you changed then, and you completely shut everyone out. I saw you. I saw how afraid you were and how you’d shut all the doors. What you didn’t see was me.” Her voice wavered, but she inhaled deeply and went on. “You never saw me call your teachers when your grades dropped. You never saw how scared I was when you stayed out late, and I didn’t know if you were safe or not. You didn’t see how worried I was yesterday when I found the contents from your backpack scattered over the kitchen floor.”
My head spun, and I grabbed the edge of the bed for support. “But you always say I’m wasting my potential,” I said, absolutely and totally confused. “You seem to only see my failures.”
She shook her head. “That’s how you’ve seen things, but you aren’t really seeing what’s true. Yes, I encourage you to fulfill your potential because I see how brilliant you are. I want you to succeed, and to have everything you want in life. Amy, trust me, see me, and believe that I know who you are.” She paused, looking at me, seeing me. “You’re my little girl. And I love you.”
A sob rolled through me. I was unable to stop it, so I held my arms up liked I’d done when I was little. “I love you too, Mommy.”
She enveloped me in her arms, and a cushion of comfort surrounded me. “I’ll always be here for you. You can talk to me.”
I buried my face deep in her shoulder, hot tears streaming down my face. I’d had everything wrong. I’d
seen Alex as the ultimate guy when he hadn’t even bothered to get to know me. I’d thought Owen was this total geek wad—which, okay, he kind of was—but he was also a good friend. I’d viewed my brother as competition when all he ever wanted was my attention.
Wow. The truth was that I never saw myself, but I’d been hiding who I was from everyone—except Jonathan. I’d risked my heart, opened up to him, and for our brief time together . . . it had been wonderful. Taking a deep breath, I pulled back from my mom, and knew I had to do the same with her.
“My friend died today,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
“Oh, honey.” She ran her hand over my head. “This is a different friend from yesterday?”
I shook my head, hoping she didn’t think I was crazy. “It’s the same guy, actually. Jonathan Jacob Miller. His dad’s the creator of the Maisy’s Meow comics.” I glanced at the Maisy’s Meow book that sat on my nightstand, and I pulled it onto my lap. “He was in a fatal car accident last Friday, but he had an out-of-body experience right before the vehicles crashed. So his spirit didn’t die with his body and pass on. For some reason, his spirit was sent to me.”
I glanced up at my mom, whose face had gone white.
My stomach coiled, but I kept going. “He zombied—um . . . occupied my friend yesterday so he could ask for my help. We went to the cemetery yesterday to dig up his body, so his spirit could go back in and bring it to life. But his sister was at the cemetery, and she told us her dad had cremated Jonathan against her mom’s wishes. Apparently they’re getting divorced now,” I said, then realized that was slightly off the point. “Tonight we broke into a secret warehouse where this private company is creating artificial bodies to sell to the military. We figured they had so many of those artificial bodies and we only needed one.”
Fresh tears burned as the event’s replayed in my mind.
“So Jonathan zombied the artificial body, and it worked. He finally had a body he could live his life in because his own body was ashes. But the company had a tracking device on the body or something. They found us. They thought the artificial body had malfunctioned and was dangerous. S-So they killed him,” I said, choking out the last words. “I only knew him a few days, but . . . I loved him.”