“Okay.” Worsley nodded, looking reluctant. “But only—and I mean only—because if there’s any chance in hell Davis survives the disease and you can bring her back, she might have the antibodies I need to create a cure.”
“And save Vera,” Cole added, trying to keep his voice neutral. Despite what he’d said a minute before, he was still deeply worried for Davis’s friend.
“Yes,” Worsley said brusquely. “Let’s do it before I change my mind. I have local anesthetic, but it’s going to be painful as it heals. We can burn away your fingerprint and carve Brent’s into your skin. We need to take a mold of his first. And in a few days, after your finger heals, you’ll regenerate new cells to replace your natural print. Just try not to let them know you’re wounded. You don’t want to raise eyebrows. Are you sure?” Cole nodded. Pursing his lips, Worsley readied the machine.
“Place your finger here,” he told Cole, after applying a numbing fluid to Cole’s right index finger. Cole slid his finger under the machine and braced himself as Worsley lowered the laser to target his fingerprint. “Are you ready?” Cole nodded, gritting his teeth. Worsley flipped on the switch controlling the laser beam, and a sensation of excruciating pain flooded Cole’s entire hand, despite the anesthetics. Worsley pinned his wrist down with his free hand so Cole couldn’t move.
“Ten seconds. Stay strong.”
When Worsley was done, Cole was the closest he’d been in years to shedding tears, and his finger was raw and bloodied. But Worsley had succeeded. Cole’s fingerprint had been stripped away, only to be reconfigured into a mold of Brent’s print. It would last two days before Cole’s own cells started to replace these faux cells. Cole gritted his teeth against the pain, but it was too much. When Worsley applied antiseptic to the wound, he cried out.
“Shhh!” Worsley hissed, glancing over his shoulder. It was too late.
“Cole.” The word was long and low, guttural. It sounded almost inhuman, but Cole recognized Vera’s voice.
“What—” He looked at Worsley, who fidgeted, seeming uncomfortable.
“It’s nothing,” he said.
Cole narrowed his eyes, snatching his half-bandaged finger away from Worsley’s grasp. “What are you hiding?” he growled, standing up and shoving past Worsley, to the curtained area in the back room.
He pushed aside the curtain and found Vera moaning and thrashing in a puddle of her own sweat.
“Cole,” she muttered through white lips. Her belly was distended to the point that Cole thought she must be due at any time, but her skin was pale, almost blue, and her eyes were unfocused. Cole held a hand to her forehead—it was damp, feverish. “Cole,” she said again, thrashing in the bed. Cole’s stomach dropped. He turned around to find Worsley behind him, watching. Worsley’s expression was resigned.
“What is this?” Cole shouted. “She looks terrible. I apologized to you! I said I should have trusted you, and you said nothing! There’s nothing in you to trust. You’ve turned into someone I don’t even recognize.” His words were bitter, but this time he wasn’t sorry at all.
“I didn’t know she’d get so sick,” Worsley said, pleading. “I was certain it would work, Cole. I was so sure. I’ve never felt more sure of anything. I’m trying to fix it. I’m trying my best to make her better. But even so … the sacrifice is nothing compared to the lives we’ll save. Don’t you see? I’m sacrificing one to save millions. It’s not always clear and easy, Cole. You can’t just fight your way through life.”
“You need to do more,” Cole told him. “You can’t just give up on her.”
“What do you suggest?” Worsley’s face was hard. “Go ahead. Tell me how to make this better.”
Cole opened his mouth then closed it again. At a loss for words, he pushed past Worsley and ran from the room. Once he was free, he told himself, he’d get help for everyone. He just needed to win the Olympiads to get there.
Cole was so immersed in his panicked, frenzied thoughts that he forgot about taking precautions to stay safe. He just ran down the route he now knew by heart, heedless of his hood flapping down from his head. He was exposed, and he barely realized it. He barely even cared.
The horror of seeing Vera like that made him want to do something destructive. He was tired of trying so hard to keep it all together, and for what? To see all his plans fail, every single time. To watch everyone he loved get hurt, and to know there was nothing he could do about it.
When he heard the voice shouting his name, he almost didn’t care. It was the cops; he knew it. Finally, it was all going to end, and there was some relief in that.
“Cole!” The voice said again. He whirled, facing it head-on.
“What,” he shouted. “Take me. Arrest me. That’s what you want, just do it.”
The footsteps pounded around the corner and the owner of the voice came into view. Cole felt like an idiot for not realizing it sooner.
Hamilton.
His brother’s face was ashen. “It really is you,” he said. “I can’t believe it.” He ran to Cole, wrapping him in a hug. When they pulled back, tears were streaming down both their cheeks. Hamilton cleared his throat, trying to pull it together.
“How did you…” Cole trailed off, speechless for one of the first times in his life.
“Worsley called me. But quick,” Hamilton said. “We need to get you off the streets. I was an idiot for shouting your name like that. I just … I couldn’t believe it.” His words came out in a choked sob. “All this time, we’ve thought you were dead. I thought I’d killed you.”
“This way.”
Cole led Hamilton back to his hideaway, and the two bolted the door behind them.
“Did anyone see us?”
“I don’t think so.” Hamilton shook his head. “When Mom finds out you’re alive … Cole, it’ll save her.”
“She can’t know.” Cole’s voice was sharp. “Not yet. I have too much riding on tomorrow.”
“The Olympiads. Worsley told me. He told me everything. He called me when you left his lab … said he was worried about you, that you were distraught. He was afraid of what you might do.”
Cole averted his eyes. He had been on the brink of desperation only minutes ago. Even now, it seemed so futile.
“I don’t think I have a hope of winning,” he told his brother. “Sometimes I think I’m deluding myself because I’m too much of a coward to face reality.”
“That’s not true.” Hamilton leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. His green eyes shone brightly and his expression was sobering. “I was the one deluding myself. I thought all those riots and protests would amount to something. All they amounted to was more violence and hatred. I was wrong. I guess it took you dying to show me that.” He let out a rueful laugh. “I wish I’d been smart enough to see it sooner.”
“You said Mom isn’t doing well,” Cole prompted him.
“It’s not her health,” Hamilton said. “It’s that home. The morale. Her grief. She broke when she lost you, Cole. We need you back.”
“But how can I come back? The second I show my face it’s all over. I may as well be dead, for what they’ll do to me.”
“You need to win the Olympiads,” Hamilton said. “Then we can get away from here, build a new life elsewhere.”
“I don’t know how realistic that is, anymore,” Cole admitted. “I’ll be up against Prior champion athletes. I’ve been naive.”
“I believe in you.” Hamilton held Cole’s gaze. “I never told you when we were kids. I was too tough on you. But you’re the one who can save us, Cole. I used to be jealous of you, because you have it all—courage and strength and integrity. Now I just want you to use it. Please don’t stop now. If you won’t do it for us, do it for Davis.”
“What do you mean?” Cole shifted, the springs of the cot creaking beneath him. He was suddenly aware of the oppressive, stifling air in the tiny room. “What do you know about Davis?”
“I’ve heard things.” Hamilton clas
ped his hands together, moving his thumbs in semicircles the way he always did when he was making a hard decision.
“Tell me.”
“There are rumors about TOR-N. That it’s a cesspool. The patients are underfed, not receiving proper medications or care. That the doctors are skimming. That…” he paused, looking nauseated. “Dead bodies are just strewn about in open air. They aren’t even being properly disposed of. No matter what I ever thought about Priors,” he said, swallowing hard, “no one deserves that. If Davis is there, and the rumors are true, she needs you.”
“Why would her father leave her there?” Cole’s voice was thick. The words hurt to say. The thought of Davis suffering caused him physical pain under his rib cage. It made him want to punch something, anything.
“He may not know,” Hamilton told him. “They say the staff gives false reports, cleans the facility up for inspections, hides it all. They want to keep it running so they can keep taking money. I only know any of this because I know a guy who runs the ferry. He quit his job because he said he couldn’t stand to be a part of it. That was his only source of income. He meant it when he said it was bad.”
“If I win the Olympiads, I can go to her. I’ll have enough money to travel.” Cole felt a surge of determination. He had to, and he would. He’d had a moment of weakness, but he wouldn’t let it stop him. Not when everyone he loved needed him most.
“You have to,” Hamilton told him, moving to Cole. He wrapped his arm around his brother as he had when they were little, before everything had gotten in the way. “You’re the only hope for us all. Be brave, little brother. Braver than you’ve ever been.”
17
DAVIS
Davis fled the room, heading out of the party toward the elevator bank. Her heart pounded and she struggled to catch her breath, recognizing the weakness that overcame her body as a sign of shock. She’d trusted Mercer—and he was using her. But for what? And was he using Jan, too? Who was Suen, really? There was no cure, no doctors with all the answers—she realized that now. She’d have to return to Columbus with nothing, if she could make it back to Columbus at all before she was caught and shipped back to TOR-N. Everything she’d planned for was falling down around her; in just a few brief moments, all her hope was lost. Davis fought against the tears that threatened her vision and struggled hard to stay calm.
She heard footsteps pounding behind her and she made a dash for the elevator. She needed time alone to think—the last thing she wanted was to have it out with Mercer when she was feeling so betrayed. The elevator door began to slide shut, but just before it closed altogether, a hand shot out, causing it to reopen—and Mercer slid inside. He pushed the Door Close button as Davis frantically pushed the button for the lobby.
“What are you doing?” she shouted. “Why did you follow me in here? What do you want from me?”
“Calm down,” he urged, placing a hand on her shoulder. She shook it off roughly.
“I knew you were lying about something,” she hissed. “I can’t trust you anymore. I don’t know what this is about, but I can’t believe anything you say. What else have you been lying about?” She punched the Lobby button over and over, even as the elevator made its rapid descent.
“Just listen to me,” he started. “Please. Just calm down.”
“I don’t need to do anything you say,” Davis said as the doors slid open. She ran out, down the stairs leading through the front door. She took a left through the massive gated property and rounded a bend to find herself in a small, immaculate garden. She turned, ready to leave—she didn’t care where she was as long as she was away from him—but he was already there, facing her and blocking off the only entrance to the garden.
“Please. I can explain,” Mercer told her, breathing hard. His eyes were wide and earnest, and Davis wanted more than anything to believe there was some sort of explanation she was missing. But her self-protective urge was kicking in and pulling her back and away from the connection Mercer was trying to make. She wouldn’t let herself ignore the warning signs again, or believe someone who would betray her.
“This is a misunderstanding,” Mercer continued. “Just listen to me.”
“I’m listening,” she told him. She’d listen, and then she’d go her own way. She was done with Mercer. She couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to start wondering if he could be something more. She was worried about being deceived, and what she’d done with Mercer was the biggest blight on Cole’s memory. Davis flushed, ashamed. It all seemed so clear; how could she have let her emotions overcome her? But Mercer was talking, laying out whatever excuse he had for what Davis had witnessed.
“… where Neithers can become fully Prior, and—”
“What?” Davis cut him off. She felt her hands clenching into fists. Mercer looked wary, his face flushed with the exertion of chasing her.
“I’m telling you, Jan’s been helping me with research. It’s a really risky, dangerous process. But we think Neithers can become Prior—at least the ones whose genetic makeup is primarily superior. It’s something like ninety percent superior that you need to qualify for an operation. I’m ninety-two percent, but that’s how I got Narxis. I tried to undergo a procedure and it failed. Suen—she was the doctor. She lives just outside of the city. You’re ninety-three-point-six percent superior—it’s what your file said. That’s why I wanted to bring you here with me. One of the reasons, anyway.”
“Do you know what you’re saying?” Davis was shocked.
“I was going to tell you about everything,” Mercer told her, reaching for her. Davis pulled back, shocked. “You’re unique,” he pleaded, pushing his disheveled blond hair from his eyes. “You can have the operation and become fully Prior. I wanted that for you. I thought you would want it. I thought once you were here—once I explained everything and you saw how it could be—you’d jump at the chance to go through with it. But now I see that even that was wrong. Believe me,” he said, moving toward her again, “I would never encourage you to do anything that would put you at risk.” His eyes were wide and earnest.
She wanted to believe him. But something about what he was saying made her stiffen, igniting her natural urge to protect herself. “But when we were just friends, it was different.”
“I was stupid,” Mercer admitted, tucking his head down so that his hair fell partly over one of his eyes.
“And selfish,” she added, realizing she was shaking with anger, with shock.
“Yeah, and selfish.”
Davis turned away from him, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the small koi pond in the garden. Mercer drew closer, his own reflection looming behind hers. She watched his face in the water; it rippled as he spoke, distorting his expression into a funhouse version of him.
“I thought you’d be happier with the operation,” he explained. “At least that’s what I told myself originally. I thought we’d go through it together, then be together as Priors. Isn’t that what you want? It’s better than this … this limbo reality. I’m tired of being invisible. It’s not fair that Neithers don’t have the same privileges as Priors. Don’t you believe in equality for all?”
“I believe in an equality that doesn’t force me to change myself to get it,” Davis told him, her voice measured. “Why do you want to be a part of something that forces you to be someone different?”
“This is my life,” Mercer uttered, his voice thick. He put his hand on her shoulder, urging her to face him. When she did, his eyes were full, impassioned. “Everything in it is true: my friends, my family, all the people I love and have grown up loving. The only thing that’s a lie is my genetics. It’s the one thing no one can see but the thing that makes a world of difference. Can’t you see that? If it doesn’t matter, why not change it, when it can do so much?”
“I’m so sorry, Mercer,” Davis told him. She meant it. She was sorry he was so tortured, had this rage bubbling just under the surface all the time, distorting everything just as his reflection ha
d been distorted in the pond. “Cole must have felt this same way,” she realized aloud. “Always inferior. Never able to fit in.”
“I can’t believe you’re still talking about him,” Mercer muttered. Davis jerked back, feeling like she’d been slapped. Back when they’d become friends, in the early days at TOR-N, he’d always made her feel comfortable talking about Cole. But she guessed that was because he hadn’t yet developed the feelings for her that he possessed now.
“What is wrong with you? You know how much I cared about Cole.” She was barely able to utter the words; he’d shocked her breathless.
“Cared or care? He’s dead. Don’t you think it’s time to start getting over it? You’re mourning a dead Imp. What ever happened to progress?”
His words were putrid. They seared her. Davis stepped away from him, reeling. It was as if Mercer had been possessed by a stranger capable of inhuman cruelty. She couldn’t believe he was capable of these kinds of malicious thoughts. She regretted ever mentioning Cole’s name to him.
“If anyone believed in progress, it was Cole,” she spit out, barely able to force the words past the knot in her throat. “But he believed it came from inside. Not from some stupid, superficial surgery.” She turned, unable to face him. He was repugnant to her now. She couldn’t believe they had ever been friends.
Mercer didn’t respond; instead he stared at her, a look of contempt crossing his features. Davis felt suddenly, horribly sorry for him. Worse than being afflicted with Narxis—worse than being a Neither with nowhere to fit in—Mercer was a shell of a human. Instead of being a vessel for love and hope—as Cole had been—Mercer was brimming over with self-loathing. That was what separated them, and Davis saw now that it always would. She could step beyond her circumstances. He was an exercise in longing. It made her weep for Cole, with whom she’d been able to be authentic and fully herself, despite everything they’d faced together.
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