The MORE Trilogy

by T. M. Franklin

Christopher shouted for help from somewhere in the middle of the lake, and Max jerked his head up. “Looks like you two have a bit of a reprieve this time,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “Next time, though . . .” He took off at a run toward the lake.

  “Yeah. I kind of hate that guy,” Tiernan muttered as he leaned back against a tree, exhausted.

  “Yeah.”

  “So what now?”

  Caleb checked his phone and took out the battery in the hopes the water hadn’t damaged it permanently. He sat down on the ground and braced himself against another tree. “Now we wait.”

  Emma was waiting exactly where she said she’d be. When she spotted Ava running toward her she waved frantically, bouncing on her toes.

  Sometimes, it was easy to see how young she really was.

  “How did it go?” she asked when Ava came to a stop before her.

  “Exactly as planned.”

  “You got the codes?”

  “I got caught. Which, I’m assuming, was kind of the point,” Ava said drily, following her sister to the SUV parked a few feet away. She glanced over her shoulder, wondering why Caleb and Tiernan were no longer chasing her.

  “Don’t worry about them. Christopher and Max were supposed to delay them, not hurt them.” Ava shot her a questioning look, and Emma said, “Father knows they’re important to you. He would never harm someone important to you unless he had no other choice.”

  Ava hunkered down in the seat and buckled her seat belt. “Where are we going? Another empty house?”

  Emma smiled. “Not this time. I am going to have to ask you wear this, though.” She reached between the seats to pull out a silky black scarf. She bit her lip and shrugged slightly. “You can’t know where our base is until Father’s convinced you’re on our side. Sorry.”

  “I’ve got nowhere else to go now.” Ava shrugged and wrapped the scarf around her head, covering her eyes. “Is this okay?”

  Emma didn’t say anything for a minute, and Ava imagined her waving a hand before her face. “Fine,” she said finally.

  Ava wasn’t sure if this was more about trying to keep the location a secret, or if Emma was just in a hurry, but the engine roared as their speed increased, and Ava planted her feet in the floorboards at the first hard curve. The silence was heavy. Ava could almost feel Emma’s unspoken words, unasked questions.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “What are you going to do?” Emma blurted out.

  “About what specifically?”

  “About all of this. About us. About Father.” She turned a corner, and Ava braced herself on the center console.

  Ava sighed heavily. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  “None of us do,” Emma said quickly. “That’s why Father has a plan. He wants to take control with as few casualties as possible.”

  “I guess . . . I’ll do what I have to do.” Ava rested her head against the seat. She was so tired. Her head ached, and she felt fuzzy—off. She couldn’t remember if she’d gotten any sleep the night before or how long ago that really was. She’d returned to the city, had something to eat—

  It’s still morning, isn’t it?

  She’d asked some questions to try to figure out how to get the codes. She’d seen Caleb and Tiernan. They must have just returned with Isaiah and then . . .

  Ava sighed. Caleb had been worried about her. He had known something was wrong, and once again, despite all her promises, she’d hidden even more from him. She hadn’t wanted to and tried to find a way around it, but until her parents were safe, she didn’t see any other option.

  Her head hurt. Her stomach ached. She felt lost. It was hard to know what was right and wrong anymore.

  Emma didn’t respond, and the rest of the ride was in silence.

  Eventually, the pavement below the tires turned to gravel then, from what Ava could tell from the bumpy ride, pot-holed dirt. The darkness of the blindfold focused her other senses, and she listened to the purr of the engine, the rattle of the tires, and was almost lulled to sleep by the rhythm. She startled when the car slowed to a stop, all senses on high alert as Emma got out and the car door slammed behind her. She heard voices.

  “Any problems?”

  “Not at all.”

  “He’s waiting for you inside.” A scrape of shoes on the ground and the passenger door opened. “Do you need any help with her?”

  “No, we’ve got it under control. Thanks.”

  Ava recognized Emma when she leaned across her to unbuckle the seat belt and tugged lightly on Ava’s arm.

  “Come on. It’s okay,” she said quietly.

  Ava stumbled out of the car, steadying herself on Emma’s arm and ignoring the surge of Emma’s gift. She shuffled forward and tripped over some kind of threshold, the ground turning solid beneath her feet.

  “Sorry,” Emma said, her words echoing faintly. “I should have warned you.”

  They continued down what appeared to be some kind of hall or tunnel—if the reverberation of their footsteps was any indication—and turned a corner before Emma stopped.

  Ava heard a whir, a clack of metal, and they moved forward a few steps. The floor dropped beneath her, and Ava’s stomach swooped.

  “You can take the blindfold off now,” Emma said.

  Ava swept the scarf away, blinking a few times to adjust her eyes.

  They were in an elevator—kind of old, but well maintained—and they were going down.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “Well, I can’t say specifically,” Emma replied. “Not yet, at least. But we’re in a bunker. It was abandoned years ago, and Father took it upon himself to do some renovations.”

  The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened on another dim hallway. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all metal, broken by doors every few feet along the way. A door opened at the end of the hall as they walked out of the elevator, and Ava spotted what looked like a control room—computers, monitors, lots of people moving around—before it slammed shut with a metallic thud.

  “This way,” Emma said, indicating one of the doors to the left.

  Fluorescent lights flickered on overhead as they walked into a small conference room with a table in the middle surrounded by four plastic chairs. Bookshelves lined two walls, every space crammed full of thick volumes, and Ava spotted atlases and history books in her brief perusal. The other two walls were covered with overlapping maps, red circles, and pushpins forming a pattern she couldn’t discern.

  Borré’s imprint announced his arrival before the door opened, and Ava’s muscles tensed as he walked in, accompanied by a thin, young woman with blond hair she tucked nervously behind her ear.

  “Welcome home,” he said, pulling Emma into a hug and kissing both her cheeks. He turned to Ava. “I trust everything went well?”

  “As well as could be expected,” she replied.

  His lips lifted as he nodded once. “This is Eve,” he said, indicating the blonde.

  She fidgeted with the ends of her hair and came to stand beside him.

  “Not one of your sisters, but useful to the cause in her own way, aren’t you dear?” He laid his hand on her head, and she tucked her chin to her chest, her gaze dropping deferentially to the floor. “So,” he said, turning to Ava. “Did you bring the codes?”

  Ava fumbled in her pocket for the drive he’d supplied and held it out to him. “It worked just as you said.”

  He took the drive and handed it to Emma. “Take it to Mara. Let me know what she says.”

  Emma nodded and left the room quietly.

  “What now?” Ava asked, her gaze flicking from the closed door to Borré to the meek girl at his side.

  “Now, dear daughter, it’s time to see where your loyalties lie.”

  “You said you’d release my parents.”

  Borré smiled. “That I did. The question is, Ava, if I do, what will you do?”

  What will I do?

  “Will you take your place b
y my side? With your brothers and sisters? Assure your parents safety, the safety of those you love?”

  Do I have choice?

  “Will you fight the Council? Let a government for the people—for the Race—take its place?”

  The Council sees me as an enemy now. I’ve got no choice.

  Ava swallowed, her head pounding.

  Borré seemed to understand and reached out to touch her head, although his other hand stayed on Eve.

  The pain eased.

  “What will you do, Ava?” he asked quietly.

  “I . . .” She shook her head and rubbed her hands over her face. “If I join you, you’ll make sure my parents are safe?”

  “Yes.”

  “Lucy? My other human friends? They won’t be harmed?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Caleb?”

  Caleb. Tiernan. Gideon. Sophie. The others. What am I doing? Isaiah. Something about Isaiah.

  “I’ll do all I can to minimize the casualties, Ava. My greatest wish is a peaceful transition.”

  Ava nodded.

  It’s all I can hope for, isn’t it? What choice do I have?

  “Ava?” She looked up to find Borré watching her closely. “Will you stand with me against the Council?”

  What choice do I have?

  “Yes.”

  “You’ll fight by my side?”

  No choice. No other choice.

  “If I have to. Yes.”

  “And you’ll never betray me?”

  Ava hesitated, but only for a second. “No.”

  I have no choice.

  “I won’t betray you.”

  She realized Borré had closed his eyes, his head tilted back with a slight smile on his face. A smile that widened when he opened his eyes to look at her. “Excellent. That’s exactly what I hoped for.” He turned to Eve. “You’ve done well. You may go.”

  She nodded and left the room as Emma walked in.

  “The codes have been verified.”

  Borré nodded. “Of course they have. You’ll be happy to know your sister has agreed to join us.”

  Emma glanced at Ava doubtfully. “She has?”

  “Eve confirmed it.” Ava looked confused, and he reached for her, patting her on the shoulder. “Eve is able to detect truth and deception with startling accuracy.”

  Ava had suspected it. “So that’s how you know if someone lies.”

  “Eve is never wrong, and she’s gracious enough to share her gift with me,” he said. “You’ll be happy to know you passed with flying colors.”

  Ava straightened. “So what happens now?”

  “Now,” he said, “I show you around, and you meet your brothers and sisters.”

  “I want to see my parents first.”

  “Of course.” Borré tilted his head in invitation and led her down the hallway, around a corner, then another, and finally down a long, curving walkway that seemed to be cut into sheer rock.

  Lights embedded in the stone cast shadows along the way, and they came to a stop at a thick steel door to what appeared to be a vault.

  “Remember, they think they’re at home,” Borré told her. “It’s best for them if you keep the façade alive.”

  Ava nodded.

  Borré pressed a palm to a glass panel and the vault door swung open, revealing a wooden door behind it. He lifted his fist to knock, and Ava heard the tread of footsteps approaching.

  “How am I supposed to explain you two?” she asked quietly.

  Borré laughed, nodding at Emma. “Oh, they won’t notice us.” He moved to Emma’s side. “Take your time. When you’re finished, we’ll see about returning them home.”

  Ava held her breath and waited as the door opened.

  “Ava?” Sarah Michaels gaped for a moment before pulling her into a tight hug. “What are you doing here?”

  Her mother didn’t seem to notice as Emma leaned forward to whisper in Ava’s ear, “They don’t remember anything about the murder or the police. As far as they’re concerned, you’re at school and everything’s normal.”

  “Ava?” Her mom pulled back, holding her shoulders as she looked into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah . . . yeah, sure, Mom,” she said. She inhaled her mother’s familiar scent, relaxing but suddenly on the verge of tears. “I was on a break and thought I’d surprise you.”

  “Break?” Sarah pulled back, her eyes glassy and confused for a moment. “Spring break?” She turned around to head into the kitchen and ran a finger down the calendar stuck to the door.

  “No, spring break’s over,” Ava replied. “Just a . . . long weekend. Grading period, you know?”

  Sarah’s face cleared. “Oh, sure.” She nodded, smiling widely. “Well, come on in. Are you hungry? I was about to make some tea.”

  She went about filling a kettle, and Ava glanced back at Emma and Borré before she closed the door behind her and took a moment to examine her surroundings. It really was a remarkable facsimile of her childhood home, right down to the dishtowels and the dented teakettle her mom never wanted to replace. The kitchen table was a little off, missing the scratch she’d put in it building a catapult for science class in junior high. Through the arched doorway she saw the living room, complete with the collection of photographs on the mantle, and the crocheted afghan on the couch.

  Her dad walked in, a folded newspaper under his arm.

  “I thought I heard your voice,” he said, bending to kiss the top of her head. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just visiting.”

  “From Missouri? That’s a long way for a weekend,” Sarah said.

  “I got a deal on a plane ticket.”

  “Oh yeah? What kind of deal?” her dad asked, taking a seat at the table.

  Ava couldn’t believe the conversation they were having and tried to rein in her impatience. “You know, a student discount. No biggie.” She leaned across the table and touched her dad’s hand. “Are you okay?”

  “Me? Sure, I’m fine.”

  “No one has . . . I mean, you’re sure?” The tears were back, and Ava swallowed to keep them at bay.

  “Ava?” Her mom hurried across the room. “What’s wrong?”

  Ava swiped at her eyes. “Nothing. I guess I’m just really glad to see you guys.”

  Her mom sat down next to her and pulled her into a hug while her dad held her hand across the table. For a few minutes, Ava forgot that it wasn’t real. She forgot about everything but the comfort of her mom and dad holding her in the kitchen of the house where she grew up.

  As promised, Borré released her parents, and after a brief session with Emma, they got into a car driven by a Rogue lackey, destined for the airport in Kalispell. They waved gleefully at Ava as the car pulled away. She wasn’t exactly sure what they saw—what Emma led them to believe they saw—but she was glad they were out of the fake home. It gave her the creeps.

  As the car disappeared down the dirt road, she turned to Borré. “No blindfold?”

  “For you or them?”

  “Either.” She shrugged. “Both.”

  “They won’t need it. They won’t remember where they’ve been once they get home,” he replied turning back to the entry. “And there’s no need to hide anything from you anymore.” He smiled and pushed aside the brush covering the heavy doors to the bunker.

  Ava took one more look down the road as the dust settled before following him down the tunnel and into the elevator. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “The DNA time bomb you engineered in us. Is there a cure?”

  Borré frowned, and the glance he shot at her seemed more than a little irritated. “It’s not a time bomb. It’s more of a homing beacon,” he said, putting a key in the elevator and turning it before it began to descend. “Something to bring you back to me.”

  “Or kill us.”

  Her father slid a palm over her hair. Instantly, her anxiety dissipated, and the low thrum of her gift s
ettled. “See? It’s easily remedied,” he said.

  “But not permanently.”

  “No, unfortunately not,” he said. “But as long as you receive regular treatments the symptoms will be virtually nonexistent.”

  “Treatment from you.”

  “Yes.”

  The elevator doors opened, and Ava realized they were on a different floor than before. Where the hall leading to her parents’ quarters had been sparse and industrial, this looked more like a hotel with gleaming wood floors and warmly painted walls. A series of dark wooden doors lined the hall interspersed with bronze sconces casting the ceiling in a golden glow.

  Ava gaped openly, following slowly behind her father. Her gift pulsed more intensely than before.

  “These are our personal quarters,” he explained. “I must be excused for indulging my family a bit. It’s a father’s prerogative, I think.” He smiled at Ava and ducked his head.

  They made their way to the end of the hall and a set of double doors.

  Ava’s gift reached out for the door—through the door.

  “You feel them, don’t you?” he murmured.

  Ava nodded, unable to speak.

  “I’ve asked the others to meet us here,” he said. “It’s not everybody—not yet, but soon.” He swung the doors open to a lavish sitting room, resplendent with thick oriental rugs and three plush sofas set around a central fireplace on the far wall. Instead of windows, large paintings of outdoor scenes hung on the walls—a snowy forest, a spring meadow, and one that looked surprisingly familiar.

  “New Elysia,” she murmured.

  “Our home, yes. Or it will be soon.”

  “So you—we—are going to take New Elysia?”

  Borré laughed lightly. “First the Council, then the Race, then the world, as they say.”

  She pulled her eyes away from the painting, drawn into the room by her gift’s demands.

  “It’s intense, isn’t it?” Borré asked, his eyes fluttering closed. “So many in the same room.” He inhaled deeply, as if enjoying the scent surrounding him, and let it out slowly.

  “I believe you’ve met Christopher,” Borré said, indicating a lean, shorter man with dark hair.

  “We’ve not been formally introduced, but yes.” Ava nodded stiffly as she recognized the fireball thrower she’d encountered before.