And that was just what she did. She took off with every ounce of strength and speed she had in her. She ran for her life. The life that she was finally starting to believe she could have.
And as she stomped her way up the steps of the boardinghouse and found her way to her bed, Gaia knew that she would always remember this night. She’d remember it as the night that new Gaia was officially born.
Averted Eyes
IT WAS MAGIC. THERE WAS NO other way to put it.
A beautiful, magical New York morning. The air was sparkling clear. The busy street was filled with hurrying pedestrians and honking taxicabs and huge delivery trucks and all the wonderful bits and pieces of Manhattan life.
Gaia walked toward school, transported. She felt wonderful. There was no other way to put it. The feeling running through her was like an electric current—it reminded her of being a little girl, when her mother was alive. That special feeling of being a young child, of wanting to burst into song or start running or skipping for no reason except that you felt like it.
I’m normal, she told herself. I’m complete.
Gaia crossed Sixth Avenue and made her way east toward the Village School. The blue sky was as clear and bright as a picture postcard. Gaia wanted to stop and greet everyone she saw and thank them for being part of her wonderful morning.
She had fear.
It was like a missing musical note had been added, and now the symphony was complete. This was what it was like for everyone else. She still remembered the exquisite sensation the night before when those assholes had attacked. That incredible, terrible moment when she’d realized that she was afraid. The pain of the fear had been like a spice added to the joy she’d felt.
Gaia turned the last street corner and saw the front of the Village School. The crowd in front of the place seemed unusually light, but then, she was early. She was actually early to school—imagine that.
Gaia had surprised the hell out of Suko that morning. She’d woken up early, showered and dressed, and then practically galloped downstairs. She’d had breakfast at Collingwood rather than just buying a bagel on her way to school. Philip had been delighted, serving her eggs and coffee with great flourishes.
And now here she was, at school—and Gaia knew exactly what she was going to do.
She was going to walk into the building. Then she was going to play her new game—the game where she tried to pick Jake out of the crowd.
The dark hair: check. The smooth olive skin: check. And step three—the confident swagger. She was going to walk right up to him and grab his shoulder, and when he turned around, she was going to kiss him full on the lips, right there in front of everyone. And then she was going to hug him as hard as she could and murmur into his ear that she was sorry, so sorry, so terribly sorry that she’d been so difficult. . . but that all of that was over now. Everything had changed for her. . . and for them.
Gaia was sure of it. It was all different, in the best possible way. Now, finally, she could have that talk with Jake. She wanted to have that talk. She wanted him to ask lots of questions so that she could say yes to each of them and watch his face as she did it.
She couldn’t wait.
Gaia bashed through the front door of the school, practically singing with excitement. She was looking for anyone she knew. Especially Chris. So she could make a point of thanking him for what he’d done for her.
Her eyes adjusted to the relative darkness as the big doors swung shut behind her. It was strange: she’d been expecting to hear the usual dull roar of high school voices, the sound tumbling toward her, assaulting her eardrums as it did every morning.
But she didn’t hear anything.
It was like walking into a library or a church.
Now Gaia’s eyes had fully adjusted to the darkness, and she realized something else.
Nobody was moving.
There were students and teachers. . . and they were all standing there. Not moving. Not speaking. Not doing anything. . . just standing there. Even the people she didn’t know, had never spoken to.
Looking at Gaia.
That wasn’t quite it. They were gazing at her and then quickly looking away. As if they couldn’t bring themselves to make eye contact.
What. . . ?
Gaia was confused. It was like a dream, one of those dreams where you enter a familiar place and somehow it’s become strange.
Gaia walked forward into the school. The few people in the lobby kept avoiding her gaze.
What’s going on? What is this?
Unless Gaia was mistaken, the averted eyes weren’t random. It was her, specifically. It really seemed like there was something about Gaia Moore that made them not want to look.
And Gaia was scared.
There was nothing remotely pleasurable about it. Not this time. There was no novelty, no delighted surprise. Just. . . this feeling. This terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that spread like a cold, dark shadow across her body. It made her feel weak. It made her feel sick.
It was fear.
And it was bad. Can I change my mind? Gaia thought for a second. Just for a second, but she was aware of having the thought. Walking like a ghost through the school lobby as everyone in the room stood by the lockers and avoided her eyes, Gaia wondered if maybe she had made some kind of mistake. . . if maybe, just maybe, she could take it back.
I want to wake up, Gaia thought crazily. She knew she wasn’t sleeping, but nevertheless, that was how she felt. Okay, I want to wake up now. This isn’t funny. I want things back the way they’re supposed to be.
And then she saw him.
Thick dark hair. Olive skin.
Jake.
He saw her at the same time. And she couldn’t believe what she saw in his face.
Jake looked terrible. He looked awful.
All of them, Gaia realized, looking around at all the silent people who wouldn’t look back at them. They all look bad.
Jake came toward her and she thought the stricken look on his face would break her heart. Her fear was so intense that it nearly made her faint. She didn’t feel like she was starting a great new life. She felt like she was trapped in some kind of bad dream she didn’t understand.
Jake grabbed her and hugged her hard.
Gaia felt a hand on her shoulder. She pulled away from Jake, and looked over. . . and saw Tannie Deegan.
Tannie was crying. And holding Gaia’s shoulder like she was drowning.
“What. . . ?” Gaia could barely make her throat work. The fear was paralyzing, stupefying. She managed to clear her throat and try again. She stared up at Jake’s solemn face. “What is it? What happened?”
And when Jake replied, the next two words went through Gaia like a spear.
“It’s Ed,” Jake rasped. “Ed Fargo. Ed and Kai.”
And he hugged her again.
“What?” Gaia begged. She could hear her own voice breaking. “What? Jake, please. . . tell me. . . . ”
“They got attacked. Last night, by those. . . by those kids. Those kids on that damn Invince.”
What?
Gaia was sure she’d misheard. Because if not—if she’d heard correctly— “What’s Invince?” she croaked.
“The bad drug,” Jake went on. “Gaia, I found out last night. . . . ”
“What about Ed?” Gaia begged. The fear was overwhelming now. It was amazing to her that she’d ever been so crazy as to ask for this: this terrible, crushing, horrible feeling that made her want to curl up on the floor and die. “Please, Jake—what happened to Ed?”
“He’s in the hospital,” Jake said. “He’s in critical condition at the hospital. And one of them. . . one of those sick bastards. . . They cut them, Gaia. They cut him bad. In his back. Someone slashed a freaking X in his back. . . . ”
Jake’s words were like bullets tearing through the fog of fear, and Gaia couldn’t make them stop.
The kids.
The ones she hadn’t fought, hadn’t stopped.
> “Kai’s over the worst of it. She got a transfusion, and there’s no scarring, but. . . but they don’t know if Ed’s going to make it,” Tannie whispered. She was clutching Gaia now. “His mother’s there. They just announced that they’re closing the school for the day. Everyone’s going home.”
Gaia realized she was going to scream. She wondered vaguely if she’d ever done it before. She realized that she probably hadn’t. Jake was clutching her, holding her up, and then Gaia realized that she had it wrong. She wasn’t going to scream. She was going to faint. Just like she used to after fighting, back when she was fearless.
Gaia thought of Ed and Kai, lying in hospital beds, slashed in God knew how many places. It was unbearable. She wanted to go back in time; she wanted, more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life, to fix it, to make it all right. To take it back. But there was no way to do it. Gaia saw the world begin to fade as Jake’s arms held her, and then the world grew dark and she faded into blackness.
Ed. . . Kai. . . I’m sorry. . . .
FIELD REPORT: OPERATION CONCLUDED
Rowan, J., and Morrow, P., reporting
Following interviews with Oliver Moore, aka Loki (see attached file 45071-a), and Heather Gannis (see attached file 31), operatives Rowan and Morrow have concluded their investigation into the genetic serum code named BLUEBELL.
The investigation has revealed several conclusive facts. The BLUEBELL serum did in fact exist; it was created under the supervision of Oliver Moore, aka Loki; it was administered to Heather Gannis and to Gaia Moore (see attached files 61, 63, 63-A, 72); it caused different effects in these two test subjects.
Heather Gannis’s blindness, as theorized, is a side effect of the BLUEBELL virus’s genetic manipulation.
However, before the blindness set in, Heather Gannis did experience a sustained period of “fearlessness.” This suggests that the BLUEBELL virus functioned as an “accelerator,” as has been discussed by geneticist Karl Ulrich (see attached file 202) and other scientists.
More importantly, the interviews have confirmed that all previously available information regarding the BLUEBELL virus was correct, as were the theories concerning the unique genetic composition of Gaia Moore. This seventeen-year-old girl does not possess the “fear gene,” which means that her assimilation of the BLUEBELL virus (without going blind) was successful.
This information has been provided to management under separate cover; although details have not been revealed, it appears that this information has been well used. Gaia Moore has been targeted and coerced into cooperation, and the procedure has been completed. According to division reports, test samples will be ready shortly and the countdown has begun.
Attempts by Moore and Gannis to warn others of our activities have failed.
Stage one of the program is concluded; it may be regarded as a complete success. Stage two is now under way.
END
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
First Simon Pulse edition January 2004
www.SimonandSchuster.com
Copyright © 2004 by Francine Pascal
Cover copyright © 2004 by 17th Street Productions, an Alloy company.
SIMON PULSE
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
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Produced by 17th Street Productions, an Alloy company
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All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction
in whole or in part in any form.
For information address 17th Street Productions,
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Fearless™ is a trademark of Francine Pascal.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2003108407
ISBN: 0-689-86706-9
ISBN-13: 9781442489479 (eBook)
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