Saving Eden (Original Series book 3)

by Rachel McClellan

  "Paisley!" Penny scolds and looks back at me. She must've noticed how the color has drained from my face because she talks quickly. "That's extremely rare. Most likely our formula will work as expected."

  "But I'm still going to die soon, right?" The words hang in the air, an unseen guillotine.

  Penny shifts her weight on the small stool. "Depending upon your DNA, you could have a few months, but that's stretching it."

  I purse my lips together and glance away. What does a silly drug reaction even matter then? It doesn't change the end result, just speeds things up. I won't change my mind about it. The potential of it working is too great.

  "We will give you all the information we know about how this pDNA may affect you," Paisley says, her voice surprisingly gentle. "With that knowledge, you can decide if you'd like to proceed. We're not Ebony. You have a choice."

  "Thank you," I whisper, comforted by their compassion. It isn't a common trait Techheads share.

  Penny takes my vial of blood and places it inside a small, white machine. "It's going to take awhile. Why don't you get some rest?" She motions toward the room with the bed.

  I push myself up, glance once at the closed door with Myers and Zander, then go to the room. I leave the door cracked and the lights off as I lay down, a heavy stillness weighing me down. I think of Colt. He wouldn't agree with what I'm doing. He wants me to live a long life safe in some Original compound, Enfield even, where the Institute wouldn't dare attack on account of all the ground missiles it has. A small part of me wants that too, but the bigger part wants to take down the Institute. No one is safe as long as they still rule.

  Either I can remain hidden with the rest of the Originals while Primes fight to protect us, or I can actually do something about it, something beyond having a photographic memory. Surely Colt will understand this.

  My heart clenches within my chest. I know better. He will not understand.

  I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling, wishing for sleep that doesn't come. Some time later, the door to the room Myers and Zander were in opens. I wonder what they were talking about for so long.

  "Has her blood finished cycling?" Zander asks, his voice moving across the room as if he's walking, but I don't hear his footsteps.

  "Almost," one of the twins says.

  "Is Sage resting?" Myers's voice.

  "Yes." Twins again.

  "Good," he says. "She's going to need it."

  "Will you be staying for the first injection?" Zander asks.

  "Um," he pauses, and I imagine he's looking at my almost closed door. "I can't wait. Tell her goodbye for me and that I'll see her soon. And don't let her change her mind. We need this."

  I roll onto my side and peer out the crack in the door. Myers's back is facing me as he presses against what looks a regular wall tile, but just like in the command room, it lights up under his touch. Instead of the floor opening, however, a large section of the wall slides open, revealing another tunnel. That must be where he sneaks in and out of Enfield. As soon as he passes through the doorway, the wall panel slides shut again.

  A beeping sounds in the lab. There's a shuffle of feet, but no voices.

  A moment later, Zander's voice says, "Interesting."

  "What do you think it means?" a twin asks.

  "It's hard to say, but the interaction between our pDNA and her genetics may have repercussions."

  I roll onto my back. Great. My genetics are messed up. Really though, isn't everyone's now? We're not so different Primes and Originals. I let out a long sigh just as the door opens.

  "You're awake," Zander says, surprised.

  I sit up and swing my legs to the side. "So what's wrong with my genetics? What kind of monster am I going to turn into?"

  He clears his throat and glances toward the open door, probably realizing that I had overheard everything.

  "Nothing like that. We have found a mutated gene within your DNA called p53. Based on this, there's a chance that when you grow older, you would develop breast cancer. This isn't so bad as we have cures for that, but I worry how our pDNA formula will react with it. It could shorten your life considerably." He shrugs. "Or it may do nothing, but you need to know. Does this change anything for you?"

  "Not at all. Let's get started. I want to make sure I'm at full strength to rescue Colt."

  "Great!" He smiles big. I wish he wouldn't look so happy about it, but if he is anything like my father, which he probably is seeing how he works in a lab, he can't wait to see how his creation is going to affect me.

  "First thing first," he says. "It's best if we put you to sleep for these injections. We're going directly into your bones and it can be quite painful."

  "How long will I be out for?"

  "Two days max."

  I nod. "I'm ready."

  It doesn't take long for Zander and the twins to organize everything. They do it so quickly it makes me think that they knew I was coming days ago.

  Penny brings me a white hospital gown as they finish their preparations. I change, tuck my folded clothes under the bed, and lay down again. Penny returns with a blanket. As soon as she places it on top of me, I'm enveloped in heavy warmth.

  I pull it around my shoulders. "This feels good. Thank you."

  "It can be cold in here."

  "I hadn't noticed," I say, but she's already out the door.

  Zander comes in next, holding a glass of water in one hand and a bright red pill in the other. I sit up. He drops the pill into my hand and tries not to smile.

  "You are doing a great service—"

  I toss the pill into my mouth and wash it down with the water. I slowly lower back into the bed. It's done.

  I'm surprisingly calm, and I don't think it has anything to do with the pill I just swallowed, although my eyelids are starting to feel heavy. When I wake up, I will be a different person, a person who can save her friends and avenge their deaths. This thought lulls me to sleep, the mad scientist hovering above me.

  10

  I inhale a deep, full breath. My lungs expand, cool air pushing them outward, then slowly, as I relax, the air retreats. I'm acutely aware of the motion, of the way the oxygen tastes on my tongue, or how my lungs could've expanded another ten percent, had I wanted them to.

  Despite my eyes being closed, my hyper-sensitive focus takes note of everything around me. The sheet I'm lying on is soft against my skin; I'd guess it's made mostly of rayon. I quickly calculate the weight of the blankets over the top of me. There are three. One of them smells different from the others, a little musty like it's been stuffed at the bottom of a closet.

  There's a constant hum in the room near the ceiling. Some kind of air filtration. I can feel its breath just barely sighing across my skin, something I would never have noticed before. The flow isn't as strong on my left side, making me think there's a partially plugged duct somewhere. And beyond that, I tilt my head and realize someone is reading a book. I hear the occasional swish of a page being turned.

  I open my eyes. The room comes into sharp focus, almost as if everything is in 3D. The visual surprises me so I quickly close my eyes again and count. One. Two. Three. I open them back up. Objects return to normal, but if I squint even a little, they will pop out, making it easy to spot even their smallest detail. Like on the long robot arm hanging from the ceiling. Several fingerprints dot the metal end as if it's been handled a lot. One of the prints has a tiny smudge of chocolate no bigger than an ant.

  The transformation must be complete. I am a Prime.

  I lift my arms. They feel weightless, yet…powerful. I can think of no word to describe how my body feels. It's like there's an energy inside me that wants to explode outward. I sit up, faster than I realize, and nearly fall off the bed. I catch myself on the bed railing, but my grip rips the metal clean off the bed. I bring my hand to my mouth. Did I really just do that?

  Footsteps beyond my room hurry toward my closed door. Before I realize what I'm doing, I'm already across the room
just as the door opens. I let go of the metal railing I'm still holding. It falls to the floor, the sound reverberating in my head like a struck tuning fork.

  "Slow down," Zander says, his hands outstretched. "You're going to make yourself sick."

  Just as he says it, I bend over and throw up in a nearby garbage can.

  "Easy there," he says. "You need to give yourself time to get used to your heightened senses."

  He reaches for a towel on a small table next to the bed and hands it to me. "Your whole system has been rebooted. You'll learn it quickly enough, but you can't force it."

  I wipe at my mouth, the spinning sensation within my gut slowly subsiding.

  "How long have I been out for?" I ask.

  "It hasn't even been two days. I thought you would sleep for longer, but your body had other plans. Quite remarkable, really. May I run a few tests?"

  "Be my guest."

  He hurries from the room, and I swear there's even a skip to his step.

  I straighten and stretch my hands to the ceiling. There's not a single pain in my body—no aches, no dull throbbing. I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose where Jet had punched me. It's no longer tender. I pinch the skin on my arm as hard as I can. There's pressure, but no pain. A smile tickles the corners of my mouth.

  Zander returns with a syringe and draws my blood. That doesn't hurt either. For the next two hours, he runs all kinds of tests, including having me run on a treadmill at its fastest speed. I don't get the least bit winded. He also tests my strength, but the pulley system breaks when I pull too hard. He laughs out loud, and I join him. It's a good feeling.

  When we're finished, he has me return to the room with the robotic arm while he examines all of my data. I know it's only temporary, but I can't believe how strong I feel, how empowered. Whatever life I have left, I'm going to live the rest of it to its fullest, saving my friends and family and making up for all of my bad decisions.

  Zander returns to the room, his face aglow. "Everything looks great! I'm so impressed with the results. The twins were worried you wouldn't survive the transformation—"

  "You didn't tell me that!"

  "—but I was confident," he finishes. "I'm never wrong."

  I relax my curled fingers. "Good thing. When can I go?"

  "Rafe will be here soon to take you back to the front entrance. As far as everyone else is concerned, Rafe took you to meet Myers in DC."

  "But Jet and Raven saw Myers here. Do they know what I've done?"

  "Not yet. All they know is you snuck out with Myers, presumably back to DC." He tilts his head and looks me over. "You are my greatest creation."

  His words give me pause. "You didn't create me, only strengthened me."

  "Call it what you will." He turns and leaves the room.

  I decide not to follow him out, and instead wait for Rafe. While I wait, I stretch my senses to see how far I can get them to work. If I focus hard enough, I realize I can smell things from on the other side of the lab (it smells like acetone and bananas) and hear the smallest details. Right now Zander is using a small brush against a flat surface. I can hear every fine hair as it hits whatever it is he's brushing.

  A door slides open, and a new smell accosts me. It's musty and reeks of burned rubber.

  "Is she still out?" a voice asks. Rafe.

  I step out from the room. "All done."

  His slow gaze moves up and down my body. "You look the same, and yet," he crosses the room to me, "everything seems to be…illuminated. Even your eyes."

  "That will only grow," Zander says as he comes to his feet from the chair he was sitting on. "During the next twenty-four hours, everything about you will become more vibrant."

  "How does the rest of you feel?" Rafe asks me.

  "Amazing." I roll my shoulders back. "Like I'm unstoppable."

  "I think you will be," he says. "Especially after we armor you up."

  "Armor?"

  "We've had a special fire-proof suit made. The material should also protect you from most bullets, electrical blasts, cuts from sharp objects."

  "Why don't we make all of the soldier's suits out of this material?" I ask.

  "The cost is astronomical."

  Part of my earlier enthusiasm deflates. "Then I don't want it. Give it to someone else who could use it more."

  "I'll do no such thing." He walks past me to a stack of papers on the counter and picks them up. I spot my name at the top. Those are my lab reports.

  "I won't wear it."

  "You will." He says it like he knows the future. It bothers me that he seems to know things I don't. He drops the papers. "Looks mostly good."

  "Mostly?"

  Zander clears his throat. "I don't think the p53 gene will be a problem, at least not for awhile."

  Rafe turns away from him, his eyebrows drawn together. He seems more concerned than usual.

  Penny walks into the room holding a small case. "These are for you."

  "What are they?" I ask.

  "Contacts," she answers and walks away.

  "We felt it would be best," Zander says. "At least until you're ready to tell everyone about your transformation."

  I stare down at the case. I hadn't thought this far ahead. What would people's reactions be? I could guess what my friends might say, but the others? Would they feel betrayed? Primes might be angry that I had ruined my Original DNA, the same DNA they are trying to protect. Originals would probably be upset for the same reason. Maybe my words Anthony had claimed were so powerful wouldn't be as effective. I'll only have to work that much harder to prove that I made the right decision.

  Popping open the lid, I press my finger to a dull colored green contact and slide it into my eye. I do the same with the other. "What if someone notices?"

  "Make it so they don't," Rafe says. "Let's go."

  Zander hands me a small card from his pocket. "If you have any issues at all, call me. I can come to you or, if you're at Enfield, I'll sneak you into the lab."

  Rafe presses the tile near the door. It lights up and slides open after he enters the code. Rafe says nothing as we walk, no comforting or encouraging words. I wish he would say something because my nerves are starting to freak out. What if someone notices? What if they hate me? I'm so nervous that I barely notice the narrow tunnel.

  It takes us almost twenty minutes to walk down the long, underground path to reach the outside. I breathe in fresh air. The oxygen feels so much purer. It's almost as if I can feel it giving life to every cell in my body.

  The sun hangs high in the sky against a bright blue background. The end of summer is nearing. As much as I look forward to the leaves changing, I will miss this warm weather.

  I'm tempted to go for a run, but Rafe is already opening the door to small, sporty looking vehicle. I quickly follow after him afraid he'll leave me behind if I don't. The inside of the car is cold, but it feels good against my skin.

  "What's the plan to save Colt?" I ask, finally breaking the silence.

  "We'll discuss it tonight with the others." Rafe turns down the long lane leading to Enfield, driving fast. I get the feeling that everything he does is always with extreme intensity.

  "Do they already know you found Colt?"

  "They do, and they are ready to get him back."

  "Tank?"

  "He wouldn't miss it."

  "Jenna?"

  "I don't think she'll come. She's broken."

  "That's a horrible thing to say!" I blurt. "She's grieving."

  "That may be, but in the middle of war, it's a wasted emotion."

  I stare at him appalled. "Do you ever feel compassion for anyone?"

  He doesn't say anything for a long time, but his hands curl tighter around the steering wheel, and I detect the slightest acceleration of the car.

  "I did, once, but when you lose everyone you love, you realize how taxing that emotion can be."

  "So this war, it's not really about making the world a better place or ensuring the human ra
ce's survival, but more about revenge for you, isn't it?"

  He slams on the brakes, nearly sending me through the windshield. Had I still been an Original, I probably would've gone right through it, but my newly strengthened muscles stop me.

  He swivels in his seat to face me. His expression is twisted and cruel, so unlike his normally calm demeanor. "Why did you turn yourself into a Prime?"

  "To save Max and Colt."

  "Liar," he growls. "You had every intention of saving them before my offer. It wasn't until Anthony died that you gave up everything you believed in for the one chance to seek revenge." He puffs air through his nose. "You see, Sage, you and I are more alike than you care to admit. One day you'll realize that, but when that day comes, you will find yourself alone and full of regrets, and unwilling to do anything about it because you'll have already caused too much damage."

  "I'm not like you," I say, but my voice holds no strength, and he knows it. He presses on the gas propelling us toward Enfield without another word.

  I fold my arms and stare out the passenger window. So what if this is about revenge? The Institute can't keep getting away with killing people and not expect there to be payback. HOPE may have won Enfield and a few other small victories, but the real battle is just getting started. We can't keep doing the same thing if we want to win the war. Drastic times called for drastic measures. I will hit them back with far worse than anything they did to Tank and Anthony.

  Rafe doesn't say anything as he exits the car in Enfield's parking lot meant for soldiers. I follow after him, mindful to be gentle with the car door's handle. I would hate to break something that doesn't need to be broken.

  Before we enter Enfield, Rafe turns around startling me. "Take a few hours to speak with your friends. We'll meet after dinner at command."

  I nod, but he's already turned back around and slipping inside the front door.

  I take my time walking down the road toward the hospital. I want to see Tank first, but I'm still super nervous. Will he be disappointed in me when he finds out? I try to swallow around the tightness in my throat, but it's impossible.