Remember Yesterday

by Pintip Dunn

  “Why is she naked, Zed?” I stride to the seam in the wall and place my hand squarely in the middle of the panel. The wall slides open, revealing a storage closet. I grab a blanket and some oversize pajamas and hand them to Olivia.

  He flushes. “We didn’t touch her, I swear. Not like that. We were afraid TechRA embedded monitoring devices in her clothes, so we took them off so they couldn’t track her.”

  “Really?” I cross my arms. “’Cause they usually embed trackers under our skin, next to our black data chips.”

  “Not Olivia. The chairwoman didn’t want anything permanent inside her little girl. How else could she hide her daughter off the grid?”

  Behind me, Olivia puts on the pajamas and wraps the blanket around her shoulders. Our eyes meet, and she nods once.

  So Zed’s telling the truth. Doesn’t mean I’ll stop the interrogation. “How did you find her?”

  “The Underground has always known her location. From the beginning, we knew Olivia wasn’t at a boarding school, like her mother claimed, but rather, hidden away because she was powerful. Too powerful. So powerful she crosses the line into dangerous.”

  “Doesn’t make sense,” I say. “If you knew where she was, why didn’t you rescue her before now?”

  He runs his fingers over his jaw, along a dark red scratch. The nausea climbs in my throat, and I know the answer to my own question. This isn’t a rescue mission. This is about what Olivia can do for the Underground.

  “Is that…dried blood?” I ask.

  He pulls his hand from his face. “She didn’t come nicely.”

  “Of course she didn’t. You kidnapped her.” I press my hand against my stomach. I feel sick. Sick that there’s matching red matter under Olivia’s nails. Sick that there’s a bruise forming on her cheek. “Does Mikey know about this?”

  He looks me right in the eyes. “Whose orders do you think we’re following?”

  The room spins, and black spots appear in my vision. I collapse on the pressure-sensitive tile. So Mikey’s involved in this. Not just involved. He orchestrated the entire kidnapping. Is that why he sent us away? Maybe he wasn’t protecting us after all. Maybe he just didn’t want witnesses to his crime.

  “He’s just as bad as they are,” I whisper.

  “Don’t judge him too harshly.” Zed scrubs a hand down his face. “These are the casualties of war. Fates know, the chairwoman’s not playing nice. If you don’t want to live in her future, the one where Mediocres are executed, this is what we have to do. Show Olivia’s vision to the world.”

  “I don’t have it,” she speaks up. “This vision you’re looking for. The one I gave Callie all those years ago. I don’t have it anymore.”

  “What do you mean? Where did it go?”

  She ducks behind me. “Tell him, Jessa. Tell him what it’s like being a precognitive. Different versions of people’s futures flickering before our eyes. There’s no one future, no single path. When Callie injected herself, she changed the course of our world. The vision of genocide I showed her disappeared from my mind. If we hadn’t recorded it on a black chip, we’d no longer be able to access it. I have no idea where that black chip is.”

  I do. At least, I know who would know. Chairwoman Dresden.

  “You’re lying.” Zed pulls an electro-whip from his belt. “You have the vision. It’s in your head. You just don’t want to give it to us.”

  “That’s not true.” She tucks her face in between my shoulder blades. “Explain to him, Jessa. You’re a precog, too. You understand.”

  I’m not a real precognitive, not in the same way she is. I don’t see different versions of people’s futures. I can access a vision only when the future becomes fixed. That’s why my visions are limited to a couple of minutes in the future. That’s why they’re usually confined to physical events that don’t involve independent free will.

  But Zed doesn’t know this.

  “She needs to rest,” I say. “Fatigue zaps the psychic abilities, and she can’t access the vision right now because she’s too tired. That doesn’t mean it’s gone forever.” I have no idea if this is true, but it doesn’t matter. It will appease Zed and buy us time. Time to talk to Mikey, time to get this all figured out. “Perhaps tomorrow morning, after she’s had a chance to rest, we can try again.” I turn to Olivia, gripping her hand. “Isn’t that right?”

  She nods.

  He looks from me to her, his brow creasing. “Fine,” he huffs. “We’ll wait for morning. But tomorrow, you’d better have that vision.”

  He leaves the room, and I expel the breath caught in my lungs. Tomorrow, I have no intention of either of us being here.

  24

  Too bad Mikey has other ideas.

  I lock myself in the first empty bedroom and connect with him through a secure interface. His holographic image appears in the room, and if I don’t pass my fingers through his transparent body, I can almost believe he’s here, sitting right next to me, his face lined with fatigue and his skin abnormally pale.

  “Any more rocks?” I ask.

  “Two.” He shoves his hands through his hair, dislodging the piece of rawhide. “Both with dead rats. Each with messages worse than the last. It’s been hours now, and the crowd’s only growing. I have no idea where all these people are coming from.”

  So I was right. People from outside the compound are joining the riot. Thank the Fates they haven’t migrated to the south woods, where we are.

  Preambles over, I tell him how we stumbled upon Olivia and demand an explanation. He admits that he authorized the kidnapping—but reassures me that Olivia is not a prisoner.

  “If she doesn’t have the vision, she doesn’t have it,” he says tiredly. “The stealth copter needs to recharge, and then we’ll return her to the secret location. No harm done.”

  “Oh, really?” I say, pacing the room. “You kidnapped a girl, Mikey. She has bruises all over her arms, dried blood under her nails. You don’t think she’s going to tell her mother?”

  “No, actually, I don’t,” he says quietly. “We’ve been in contact with Olivia for a long time. And while she’s not exactly with us, she’s not fully with Dresden, either. Her role, as she sees it, is to see the future—not determine it. So she’s avoided taking sides.”

  “Until you kidnapped her! Pretty sure that’s going to jeopardize your already tenuous relationship.”

  His jaw firms. “Maybe. But she knew we were coming. She was waiting by the door when Zed and Brayden broke in.”

  I stop. Olivia said the same thing, more or less. She said she saw me in her future this morning. That means she knew the kidnapping was going to happen. The rough handling, the bruises. She saw it all. And yet, she came anyway. Why?

  “It was a long shot, but one I had to take,” Mikey continues. “Don’t you see that? We need ammunition against the chairwoman, Jessa. The insurgents are demanding a war, and we need that vision of genocide to show the people. Without it, we’ll never be able to win. I’d hoped we could get it from Olivia’s mind. But if not…we’ll just have to find some other way to access it. Perhaps this black chip she mentioned.”

  “But you’ll let Olivia go home, unharmed?”

  “You have my word.”

  My arms droop. He hasn’t answered all my questions, but he’s told me all I really need to know. Olivia will be safe. “What about Tanner and me? What do we do?”

  “You might as well stay at the cabin for the night. The spiders will keep it hidden from the mob. You’ll be safe there.”

  Olivia safe. Us safe. Ensconced in a secret cabin of the Underground. My stomach should be unfurling. I should feel relieved.

  I don’t.

  The worst part is, that doesn’t surprise me one bit.

  I hover at the edge of the living area, my hair still wet from my shower. Hot water, scented soap. Being clean has never felt so good. But now that I’ve scoured off the mud, I have to deal with the sleeping situation.

  Zed, Brayden, and
Olivia are spread out across the three rooms off the hallway. Which leaves Tanner and me crashing on the living area floor. The entire room’s been outfitted with computer terminals and long tables. There’s not even a couch. Ordinarily, roughing it wouldn’t be a problem. I slept in the wilderness for six years; I can sleep anywhere. But there’re two of us. And only one thin mattress.

  “Come in,” Tanner says, turning his deep, glinting eyes to me. “I’m not contagious. And even if I were, you’ve already been infected by my mice.”

  Blushing, I walk into the room. I could be stiff and angry. The last time we talked, on a personal level, I’d stalked away from him. But so much has happened, with Zed, with Olivia. It seems silly to put up a wall between us, when all my other allies are far away.

  He’s sitting on the edge of the mattress. His skin is flushed red, as though he scrubbed extra hard. He smells like…honeysuckle and lime. I smell like that, too. There was only one soap in the shower.

  “Did you talk to Mikey?” he asks.

  Good. Business. I can handle business. “Yeah. He said we should stay here tonight, and tomorrow, when the copter’s recharged, they’ll take Olivia back.”

  “You trust him? After all this?”

  I chew my lip. The knowledge of the kidnapping sits like a heavy stone in my heart. I’m not sure I know Mikey anymore—if I ever knew him. And yet, he’s not the enemy here—Dresden is. I may not approve of his methods, but Mikey is on my side. He’s looked after me all my life. I have to believe he has my best interests at heart.

  “Yes,” I say quietly. “I think I do trust him.”

  Tanner opens his mouth, as though to argue, and closes it again. “Good enough for me,” he says, and I know that it costs him to relinquish control. Looks like we’re both doing our best to get along.

  I lie down at one end of the mattress. If I were any closer to the edge, I’d fall off. Tanner takes the mirror-image position on the other side, so that we’re facing each other. There’s at least three feet of space between us, but it’s not enough. I’m too aware of him. Of the water droplet rolling down his temple. Of the way his cheek presses down into the pillow. If there were an entire room between us, he’d still be too close.

  “How’s Olivia?” he asks awkwardly.

  “Asleep, last time I checked on her. But her rest isn’t peaceful. She moves around like she’s lying on concrete and can’t find a comfortable position.”

  I ease onto my back. This brings me a foot closer to him, but at least I don’t have to look at those soft lips anymore. “I can’t believe she’s actually here. I’ve imagined her so many times. Wondered how she’s grown up and what she’s thinking. I never dreamed I would finally meet her here, like this. Under these circumstances.”

  “She thought of you, too.” He props himself on his elbow, and I realize he must’ve known her, since they both grew up in the TechRA building. “She liked to pretend I didn’t exist, but I was the only other kid around TechRA, so she’d be forced to talk to me sometimes. She was always bragging about her friend Jessa. How pretty you were, how talented. How you had powers just like hers, and how the two of you would grow up to rule the world.”

  He laughs, and it’s as superior as always. But now, for some reason, instead of the arrogance, I hear the warmth behind it. “Of course, I was being fed my own visions of the future,” he says, “so I didn’t believe a word of Olivia’s bragging. Except for how pretty you were. That I could see for myself.”

  I sigh. It’s like he can’t help himself. “You’re flirting again.”

  “No, I’m not,” he says seriously. “I was always a genius, you know. Even at six, I knew which girls to pay attention to.”

  I peek at him. The line of his lips is as straight as his brows, and the air feels heavy, stuffed with something I can’t identify. Our eyes catch—and stay locked together. We’re still more than two feet apart, but somehow, this encounter feels as intimate as the times when he held me, pressed against his chest.

  Dragging my gaze away, I roll over, showing him my back. And yet, as I drift to sleep, the corners of my mouth tilt up. Just the slightest bit.

  25

  My cheek is crushed against a soft, cottony fabric, stretched over something warm and hard. It should be uncomfortable, but I cuddle closer, wanting more of that sensation against my neck and torso. I wrap my arms all the way around the muscular column. I don’t know where they get their pillows around here, but this one is strangely magnetic. You couldn’t pull me off if you tried. I rub my face up, up, up…and then, what feels like sandpaper scrapes against my skin.

  I freeze. Oh dear Fates. I’m not hugging a pillow after all. That’s Tanner’s chin. And Tanner’s chest.

  My eyes fly open, and my breathing becomes quick and shallow as I take stock of the situation. Our legs are tangled up underneath the blanket, and his arms are locked around me. His mouth is blowing hot air against my ear, and my pajama top has gotten twisted around in my sleep, so that my bare stomach is pressed against his.

  I swallow hard, and my heart pounds drumbeats against my rib cage. In our sleep, we’ve somehow gotten more intimate than we’ve ever been. More intimate than I’ve ever even dreamed. I should pull away. Put the proper amount of distance between us. He’s asleep. There’s no way he intends to be curled up with me like this. No way he’d like it if he wakes up and finds us in this compromising position.

  He doesn’t like me. To flirt and play games with, maybe. For real, no. I need to get out of his embrace before I make an even bigger fool of myself.

  But I’m helpless to move. Paralyzed to break this up the way I’m supposed to. As magnetic as he was as a pillow, he’s even more irresistible now that I know what I’m hugging.

  Just another minute, I tell myself. It’s not like I got us into this position on purpose. One more minute while I figure out what to do.

  But then he shifts, and his face nuzzles down until his lips are pressed against my neck. His hands slide up the small of my back until they are nestled between my shoulder blades. He groans and rolls over, pulling me on top of him.

  That’s when he opens his eyes.

  “Jessa?” he asks, his voice hoarse with shock.

  Blushing, I try to slide off him, but his hands tighten around my waist, holding me in place. “I’m sorry,” I blurt. “I woke up and found us like this. Neither of us was to blame. Just us moving around in our sleep.”

  I pull away again, and this time, he lets me move off his body. Before I can retreat to my side of the mattress, however, he grabs my hand and rests his forehead against mine. We stay like that, both of us breathing heavily.

  After what seems like an eternity, he lifts his head. “I’d better go sleep in the eating area,” he says in a strained voice.

  “You don’t have to do that. There’s nothing to sleep on in there.” Even my ears feel hot now. I bunch up the blanket so that it forms a line down the middle of the mattress. “Here, now there’s a barrier between us. We won’t cross it, I’m sure.”

  He stands, tucking his pillow under his arm. “Jessa, I never intended to play games with you,” he says, his voice quiet, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You’re worth far more to me than that.”

  My mouth opens, and the breath gets caught in my lungs. Before I can decide if I’ve heard him correctly, his bare feet are already padding away.

  I dream of screams. My mother’s whimpers in the middle of the night. My own six-year-old bellows when FuMA strapped me to a chair. The silent scream that ripped through the universe, crumbling up the fabric of time, when Callie stabbed the needle into her own heart.

  And then there’s another moan, one that is long and low and desperate, one that resonates deeply inside me. There are some terrors, once imprinted onto your memory, that you can never unsee. Some experiences so destructive no amount of evil will surprise you ever again.

  I open my eyes. There it is once more, that moan. Not a dream, then. It’s real. And it’s coming fro
m Olivia’s room.

  I look at the empty space next to me and remember that Tanner is sleeping in the eating area. Doesn’t matter. It may be better for me to go alone, anyhow. I creep toward the room. My every nerve is on high alert, and little pops of energy dance along my scalp. This isn’t going to be good. It can’t be.

  Easing open the door, I see Zed advancing toward Olivia, an electro-whip wound around his wrist.

  “Give me the vision,” he snarls, in a voice I barely recognize as human.

  “Zed?” I say quietly so I don’t startle him. “What are you doing?”

  He turns, and I stumble backward. This…this isn’t Zed. At least not the Zed I know. The one who would hold me upside down by my feet and tickle me, the one who skinned animals to provide for a community but never uttered a harsh word to anyone. His eyes are as wild as the prey he trapped, and his face is rigid with grief.

  “What is it, Zed? Is it…Eli?”

  His face crumples. Right in front of me, his features melt like hot wax and drip to the floor. His grief is so large there’s no room for anything else. No reasoning, no speech, no movement.

  My stomach bottoms out. I don’t need any psychic abilities to know what happened. Eli is dead. They couldn’t save him in intensive care.

  “He…was my…air,” Zed gasps. Each word rips its way out of him. “I have…nothing…left to…breathe.”

  Tears drip onto his face. Such small bits of moisture for such a large man, and yet, each drop gathers in my lungs, suffocating me. You don’t need an ocean in order to drown. Sometimes an inch of bathwater is all it takes.

  I close my eyes. That adorable orange-eating boy. Not even four, and already his feet were almost as big as mine. He had his father’s size and his mother’s passion. He would sit by Laurel for hours as she wrote her poems, on real parchment paper with a feather dipped in walnut ink. “When I grow up, I want to tell stories just like Mommy,” he would say. She would smile and ruffle his springy curls.