by Tracey Ward
“But—”
“He’ll wake up. He told us this happens. Yeah, I wish he would have explained it a little more than he did, but for now we focus on why we came here.” He looks down at Justin’s body unhappily. “He was supposed to guard you. Looks like you’re guarding him now.”
I feel lightheaded. “You want me to stay here with a dead body?”
“It’s better than risking you walking around this house and getting drugged or snatched.” He knocks Campbell on the back, motioning to the sofa. “Help me out with that couch.”
Together, they drag it across the room to the corner where I’m standing. The high back is facing the rest of the house, creating a triangle of couch and wall around Justin and me. I crouch down behind it obediently, eyeing Justin’s motionless body as I do. I can’t shake the thought that I killed him. That I’m the reason his eyes are blank. That his heart is still. It makes me sick inside.
“We’ll be back soon. Stay put,” Nick commands, going full soldier on me.
I don’t complain. I don’t speak. I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I look out the window, far away from Justin.
I listen carefully as they make their way through the house. They sweep it slowly, methodically, barely speaking. When they’re in the kitchen I see them communicating by a series of hand gestures, like baseball players stealing home. I breathe in deeply when they go upstairs. When they leave me alone with the body.
The pattern on our couch is plaid. It’s brown and ugly, older than old, and I trace the faded fabric with my eyes to keep myself busy. I can’t hear the boys upstairs. They’re too good at their job for that. They’re stealthy like ninjas, and even when I close my eyes and strain my ears, I can’t hear them. I can’t connect to them. They’re gone for a long time. Minutes tick by on the loud clock on the mantel. It’s fast. It always has been. Even if you reset it, within a day it will be off again. It can’t be trusted. Not much in this world can be.
The floorboards above me groan. They creak as a loud crash sounds overhead, glass shattering noisily. I jump nearly out of my skin when it breaks the silence, my eyes snapping open.
I scream my lungs raw when I find myself face to face with Justin.
He’s sitting up, his dead eyes unfocused and freaky. His face is pained, his brow creased, his mouth pinched tight. He groans low in his throat, the sound feral like an animal.
“Nick!” I scream again, skittering across the floor to press myself against the wall. “Nick! Help!”
People are shouting upstairs. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but there’s more thrashing. Another crash. It goes silent for half a second before feet are thundering down the hall, down the stairs. Nick bursts into the living room, his gun drawn and his face stern.
He spots Justin immediately but scans the rest of the room just to be safe. It’s empty except for us. Nick points the gun at Justin, moving in on us slowly.
“What’s happening?” he asks tightly.
I gape at him. “Are you for real? Justin is alive!”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No. Not yet.”
“I won’t,” Justin grumbles numbly. His lips barely move. He’s like a ventriloquist, as if those weirdos didn’t already freak me out. “I—I wouldn’t hurt—ugh!” He doubles over, gripping his stomach.
I take the chance to jump up, leap over the couch, and run to hide behind Nick.
He hasn’t taken the gun off Justin.
“Carver!” Campbell shouts from upstairs.
Nick grunts in frustration as he lowers his weapon, turning his back on Justin. He looks at me hard. “Stay with him. Keep your distance, but don’t leave him.”
“Where are you going?”
“To help Campbell. We got one, but he’s a big guy. I’d rather we didn’t see two dead bodies today.”
“But what about…” My voice trails off, my eyes falling on the kid hunched over, moaning in pain.
Nick follows my gaze. “He doesn’t look like much of a threat, Alex. And he’s alive. That’s what you wanted, right?”
“How are you so calm about all of this?!”
“Because I don’t have time not to be.” He pulls a long knife from his belt, pressing the roughly textured handle into my shaking palm. “Keep this with you. If you feel like he’s a threat, put him down for good.” He kisses my forehead reassuringly. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Nick bolts up the stairs. He runs down the hall, meeting the shuffling sound of Campbell and their catch over my head. In the corner, on the ground, Justin is still writhing.
I take a tremulous breath. An unsteady step. Then another. Breath, step. Breath, step. I take it one inhale, one exhale, at a time until I’m climbing clumsily over the couch. Until I’m crouching down behind him.
“Are—are you okay?” I stutter.
He head shakes minutely. “It hurts,” he grinds out. “It hurts every time.”
Tears are in my eyes again. Are they fear or pity?
I don’t know. Probably both.
I put my free hand on his back. I press against him gently.
Justin immediately leans into it. He falls back on his butt, his body jostling mine. I sit back in surprise, the knife in my hand rising into the air to get out of the way as he collapses against me. His head falls into my lap, his hands gripping at the denim on my jeans. He’s sweating. Gasping. His eyes are closed and that helps a little. Without the cold stare of his empty eyes, I can see him as a kid in pain. Someone who needs help and not someone who just recently a corpse.
I put my hand to his blond hair. Slowly, I swipe it off his forehead. His skin is warm. Alive.
“You’re gonna be okay,” I coo quietly. “It’s gonna to be okay. I’m right here with you. Shhhh. It’s okay.”
Upstairs Nick and Campbell are talking. They’re not shouting, not panicked, so I’m guessing they got their guy. They’ll be down soon. We’ll Slip out of here to God-knows-where and we’ll interrogate the guard. Hopefully he knows enough to be worth it. To be worth killing this boy in my lap.
This boy who’s now cringing and clinging to me. This boy who died and rose again. Who felt every ounce of agony in between.
“Shhh, Justin,” I whisper, tears streaming down my cheeks. “It’s over. It’s over now. You’re alright.”
But he’s not alright, none of us are, and this thing that’s happening to him, to all of us, is not over.
And I know in my heart that it will never be over.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MAX
“He’s a zombie,” Beck murmurs, his eyes huge. Glassy. I think Liam’s got him on something other than the ZPack because he seems kind of high. He’s a little loopy at best and I’m making sure not to let him near me because he’s not great at controlling his strength on a good day. I’m not looking to fall into a bear hug and come out with a collapsed lung. I won’t res the way Justin did.
“He’s not a zombie,” I tell him.
“He rose from the dead. What else could he be?”
“I’m having so much déjà vu right now.”
“What do you mean? About what?”
“Rising from the dead doesn’t make you a zombie,” I tell him tiredly, remembering another day a million years ago when I had this conversation with Walters. “Not exclusively. And what Justin did, it was basically being resuscitated. Not resurrected. The nanobots in his body repaired the damage, jump started his heart, and got him going again. It’s what they’re programed to do.”
“But what killed him in the first place?”
I shake my head, looking over his shoulder into the other half of the room. Alex is there with Brody by her side. They’re talking quick and low with Liam, discussing our prisoner. Carver is with him on a mountaintop in Washington. Same place we did our PJ survival training. It’s remote and secluded. The perfect spot to hold a hostage. Even if he gets away, he won’t get very far.
“I don’t know,” I ans
wer Beck. “You’ll have to ask the doctor. Or Justin.”
Beck’s face darkens. “I don’t think I want to do that.”
“Yeah, I don’t either. Kid’s been through enough.”
“He really felt it? All of it?”
“That’s what Alex says. He told her it happens every time he comes back. And every time he dies. It hurts like hell.”
“Wow. My power is starting to look pretty alright.”
“Yeah, you won the lotto on that one, big man.” I clap him on the shoulder, launching myself up out of my seat. “Could have been a lot worse.”
I walk through the common area of the clinic toward Liam, Alex, and Brody. It’s not a big building. I think it used to be offices or something utilitarian. The color on the walls is drab and slapped on haphazardly. The floor is rough cement with several mismatched rugs over the top. A TV is mounted in the corner. It’s playing a movie about a girl, a garden, and a kid in a wicker wheel chair. I’ve been trying to ignore it for the last twenty minutes, ever since we landed back at this place, but it’s the only thing going on. It’s tough to avoid.
I got a quick introduction to Liam’s people before they cleared out to do whatever it is they do. Group therapy or papier-mâché, I don’t know. The nurse was waiting for everyone in one of the other buildings and they bolted almost immediately when we showed up. We’re strangers in their safe space. They’re not thrilled about us. They also weren’t thrilled to see Justin come back curled in a tight ball, his hands gripping his chest.
He had a heart attack. That’s Liam’s diagnosis. No one’s fault, it happens, though why it happens is still a mystery to everyone. Apparently there’s some debate about whether or not the very nanobots who bring him back to life are the ones breaking him down. I don’t know how much I buy into that. What happens? They get bored and kill him for something to do? That’s not very robot-y. Sounds kind of human. Like Dr. Evans maybe installed a kill switch in their programming and let them loose inside the kid like a big practice playground or the world’s worst Test Mode. They break something so they can fix it, watch it run for a while, then break it again. That’s fine for a trial to see if everything is working, but then the lunatic never bothered to turn them off.
I didn’t get a chance to ask about anyone else’s powers before they took off for recess. I caught names on the fly, that’s it. Trina is an Asian girl with short hair and too much makeup. Stewart is a twenty-something with shaggy brown hair and huge feet. And, finally, Britta is a water filter. Not a name. But despite her parents’ misguided choices, she’s a heavyset brunette with pretty blue eyes. She was the only one to smile at me when we met.
Naomi and the nurse were nowhere to be seen. I’m guessing they’re together. Naomi is probably under constant supervision. Fry was a notable no-show too. I don’t know where she is, but the good news is it’s nowhere near Alex. Carver was pretty clear about that when I left with her – keep Fry away from Alex. Whatever it takes.
I don’t mind playing babysitter to his girl, but Carver and I need to have a conversation about him throwing orders around like he is. I know I’m the odd man out without powers, but that doesn’t rank me lower than him on the tactile totem pole. We went through the same classes, graduated with the same honors. He’s not my boss. He needs to stop acting like he is.
“The guy isn’t talking,” Alex complains to Liam. “And Nick is only okay with going so far to convince him.”
“He’d go farther if you wouldn’t judge him,” I inform her.
She glares at me. “It’s a good thing I’m here, then.”
“I don’t see what you want me to do about it,” Liam argues.
Alex pauses, inhaling deeply. What she’s going to ask for, he’s not going to want to give. But she, Nick, and I agreed that this is the way to go. That we need to turn our negatives into positives if we want to get ahead of this thing.
“I want you to give me Naomi,” Alex tells him quietly.
Liam looks at her like she’s insane. Like she just asked to borrow his liver. Just for a minute, then she’ll bring it right back. “No.”
“Liam, listen—”
“No.”
“But—”
“No.”
Alex frowns sharply, her eyes igniting. “Dammit, Liam, listen to me. We won’t hurt her.”
“You want to exploit her.”
“No. That’s not what this is.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Is it exploiting me every time I’m asked to Slip anyone somewhere? Or are we using the tools we’re given?”
He hesitates. His lips purse together tightly, turning white, before releasing on a rush of air as he sighs. “It’s different. People ask you to do it and you agree. You aren’t asking Naomi to do it. You’re asking me to give her to you, like she’s an object. It’s wrong.”
“Then let’s ask her.”
“I wish it were that simple.”
“Just ask her, Liam,” Alex implores with her big gray eyes. “Please.”
What interests me about this moment is not that Alex is pleading with the man she claims is her enemy. Alex is smart. Intuitive about people in a way I don’t think even she’s aware of. She knows what will work on Liam, and that is what’s interesting; that it works. The doe-eyed-pretty-please routine flips his switch almost instantly.
“What do you want me to ask her to do?”
Alex relaxes an inch; the same amount of ground she’s gained. “Same thing we did at Sandrine’s, but on a smaller scale.”
“If you’ll remember, we barely survived that incident.”
“That’s why I’m saying on a smaller scale,” she reminds him tersely. “They know about us. This guy has been trained to deal with us. He’s being careful not to let me see his fears the way Sandrine did. I want Naomi to force his fears out into the open so I can get a good look, and then I’ll make it real. I’ll bring it out of the dream.”
“‘Dream’? You’re going to sedate him?”
“That’s the other issue, yeah. He’s slamming the doors in his mind shut left and right. I need him to be under so I can get around easier.”
“Right. So, you want me to drug him so you can freely molest his mind?”
“I didn’t think that’d be a problem for you.” She looks at him pointedly. “It’s never been a problem before.”
Liam doesn’t take the bait. His tone is completely dispassionate as he asks, “If Naomi finds he’s frightened of clowns, what will you do? Bring one to life? And then do what with it? Kill it? That feels ethical to you?”
“Ideally, he won’t be afraid of anything human.”
“What if he’s afraid of dogs. Will you kill a dog?”
“I’ll let it run off.”
His brow falls like clouds darkening his eyes. “That’s even more dangerous!”
“What do you want from me, Liam?!”
“I want you to be careful with your talents! You’re being reckless creating these stones and giving them to Nick to do with what he wants. It’s dangerous, Alex. It’s childishly irresponsible.”
“Will you ever stop being condescending to me?”
“When you mature, yes. I’ll very well try.”
“Fine,” she snaps, changing direction. “What do you think we should do? What do you believe is ethical, Liam? I’m dying to hear it.”
Liam looks at her long and hard, his face softening slowly. Turning almost sad. “Will you ever stop being angry at me?” he asks, quietly echoing her.
Alex is taken aback. She blinks, her mouth falling open. “I—I don’t know. I’m trying.”
“Are you?”
She hesitates, biting the edge of her lower lip. “I don’t know.”
He takes a slow breath, nodding his head thoughtfully. “If she agrees, we can bring Naomi to him to function as a catalyst. I’ll ask you not to enter her mind.”
“No problem,” Alex answers quickly.
“I’ll sedate him. She’ll loosen
the leash on her abilities. It will cause a natural fear response in him. His mind should flood with what frightens him most and you can enter his thoughts the way you entered Sandrine’s.” He hesitates, studying Alex closely. “Do you believe you can do that again?”
“Yeah, of course. I’ve done it with Naomi. Sandrine. Nick. It’s getting easier. Like Slipping.”
“Only it’s not Slipping.”
“No, I know that. I mean—” She frowns. “What do you mean?”
“We share a similar ability, but entering minds is not…” Liam trails off, his eyes roaming her face. Looking for answers she doesn’t have. He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll fetch Naomi.”
“Liam.”
“We’ll be ready in ten minutes,” he promises, turning his back on all of us.
When he closes the door, leaving the four of us alone together, Alex releases a long, low growl. “I can’t stand him sometimes.”
“Really, Alex?”
If looks could kill, Alex would murder me right now. “Yeah, Campbell, really.”
“Are you sure?”
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t what?” I laugh.
“Don’t be you when Naomi gets here. Don’t lay into her. Don’t provoke her. Don’t push her buttons because, if you don’t remember, her buttons are nuclear. It’s not like being a pain in my ass. It’s playing with wildfire and we’ll all get burned, so just, please, don’t do what you always do.”
“That please business might work on the Brit but it doesn’t work on me. Sorry.”
She growls again, turning her back on me.
“I should go with you,” Beck offers to Alex. “You shouldn’t be alone with her. She’s dangerous.”
“I won’t be alone with her. Nick and Liam will be there.”
“What about you?” Brody asks me.
I shrug. “What else have I got to do, right?”
“I’ll stay here with Beck. Keep an eye on things.”
“See if you can pin down where we’re sleeping?”
“You got it.”
“And make sure Alex isn’t expected to bunk anywhere near Fry. The longer we can keep them separated, the better.”