“I need to go,” my father abruptly informed Cochran or whoever was on the other end of the phone. Then he hung up and stared at me with a mixture of anger and relief.
“Where the hell were you all day?” He loomed large and he wasn’t smiling. His face appeared lined and tense. In fact I was stunned to see my dad looking like he had aged since I’d last seen him early that morning. Had it really only been twelve hours ago?
“With my friends,” I answered truthfully.
He came over and pulled me into his arms with a big hug, his anger dissipating. “You had me worried.” I felt his heart thumping as he held me tight.
“I’m fine,” I lied, slipping free from his embrace, refusing to be treated like a little girl any longer. “Jackson brought me home.”
I stood there, waiting for the proverbial ax to fall on my neck. Was Dad acting the part of the concerned father just to butter me up and weaken my defenses? Would he ask me about the break-in at Bar Tech? Or if I knew what had happened to Maya? Was he going to use some other tactic to get me to talk? I couldn’t pretend nothing had happened any longer. Just as my dad was about to turn away, I spoke up.
“What happened today, Dad?” I questioned, turning the interrogation tables on him for a change.
“Let’s talk about this in the morning,” he replied, quickly closing all the files on his desk so I wouldn’t see the contents.
“No,” I declared with authority. “This can’t wait until morning. We’re going to discuss this right now.”
He stared at me and swallowed, not responding, as I pressed on with my questioning.
“I mean, one second the whole school is gathered in the auditorium hearing about Chase’s attack and being in a coma . . . the next there’s like this massive earthquake or lightning flash. And suddenly everyone’s losing it. I’m talking mass hysteria. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I know it must’ve been terrifying,” my father replied, carefully measuring his words to me. “But you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing?” I responded with a sarcastic laugh. “Kids were freaking out. It seemed like the world was about to end.”
“I promise you it wasn’t anything that dramatic,” Dad said, underplaying the truth. “In fact, it was actually a confluence of environmental factors.”
“You’re saying what happened today was a perfectly natural occurrence?” I was willing to give him a little rope to see how far he’d go with his lies.
“Absolutely natural. Like a solar eclipse or meteor shower.” My dad must’ve read my disbelief, because he dug in with his pseudoscientific mumbo jumbo. “Remember what happened to those birds last month?” He was lecturing me like I was his student.
“Of course I remember. How could I forget? They all died.”
“This is a similar situation,” he asserted.
“You’re telling me that whatever made those birds die was the same thing that happened today?” I shot him a suspicious look. Did my father really believe I was that gullible?
“Not to get too scientific,” he continued, “but the earth discharges electromagnetic waves and radiation twenty-four/seven. Ninety-nine-point-nine percent occur without us ever being aware or adversely affected by them.”
“So you’re saying this discharge of electromagnetic power, which made the town bonkers today, is that rare exception that proves the rule,” I retorted back to him.
“More or less,” he answered with a confident smile. “Fortunately, the effects were only temporary. Other than maybe people experiencing intense drowsiness and confusion or suffering a headache, you and your friends have nothing to worry about.”
Nothing to worry about . . .
That seemed to be a common refrain I’d been hearing from my dad and other adults ever since I’d arrived in Barrington. It had worked on me for a short while. Unfortunately, I wasn’t a trusting babe in the woods. My eyes had been opened to the truth. I knew too much. The four of us knew too much.
And yet I couldn’t quite reconcile the kind, considerate man my father seemed to have been all my life with the deceitful doctor who was conspiring with Richard Cochran and Bar Tech. Why was he doing this? I couldn’t believe it was just for money or profit. My father didn’t live a lavish lifestyle and never seemed motivated to do anything because of money. So what else could it be? Perhaps his involvement was scientific? Maybe he was hoping to make some awesome discovery and win the Nobel Prize? It was killing me not to be able to trust my dad anymore.
“What are you involved in, Dad?” I questioned pointedly.
“It’s complicated,” my dad said, clearly not wanting to explain anything.
“No. It’s very simple,” I retorted as my dad looked at me, a bit stunned by my forceful attitude. And then the truth just poured out of me. “I know about the blood tests and the pulse and the fact that you’re secretly working for Bar Tech and Cochran. That you’re deliberately altering kids’ bodies—turning us into genetic mutants.”
“You too?” he asked, staring at me in disbelief and denial.
“Yes. Me,” I declared without hesitation.
He shook his head and his shoulders slumped. My confession had hit him full force. “I hoped you’d be spared,” he lamented. “That you wouldn’t . . .”
“Go ahead. Call Cochran back,” I dared him. “Tell him the good news. Your daughter’s been affected by the pulse. She can make herself invisible.”
“Who else knows, Nica?” He approached me with urgency, looking visibly stricken.
“No one.” I lied to protect Jackson and Oliver and Maya. This was between my dad and me.
“You’ve got to tell me the truth,” he pressed, grabbing my arm.
“Why?” I snapped back, becoming emotional. “So you can turn them over to Bar Tech too? Like you did with Maya?”
“Nica, you’re wrong about me.” He shook his head, loosening his grip on my arm.
“I wish I was,” I replied softly, sadly. “I overheard you with Cochran. You colluded with him.”
“No. Don’t you see? I’ve been trying to protect you. Ever since you arrived.” I shot my father an incredulous look as he launched ahead with his explanation. “I knew your mother was pregnant when she worked at the facility. That’s why I never drew your blood. So there’d be no record of you in the system.”
“If that’s true . . . ,” I said, shaking my head in confusion, trying to process what he was telling me, “then why have you been helping Cochran?”
“Because that’s my job,” he proclaimed. “For him to think I’m helping him.”
“What are you saying?” I looked at my dad, not knowing what to believe anymore. I was struggling to make sense of what was the truth and what was a lie.
He read the doubt in my baffled expression. Then he turned around and moved his desk chair away from the desk. “What I’m about to share with you is top secret. No one can know. No one. You can’t tell a soul. Not Jackson. Or Oliver. Or even your mother.” My father stared at me with the gravest expression I’d ever seen. “Understand?”
“Yes.” I nodded, tentative, unsure what he was about to confide in me and whether I would regret my promise or not.
“Please believe that I never wanted any of this for you.” My dad bent down on one knee and rolled up the area rug. Using a letter opener he popped out a small section of the floorboards, which concealed a secret compartment beneath. “I’ve spent years trying to infiltrate Bar Tech,” confessed my father. “To gain Richard Cochran’s confidence. He’s a brilliant but dangerous man. And he’s got big plans.”
“Yes. He’s selling us as covert weapons to the government for one hundred billion,” I shot back, watching in shock as my father pulled out a small locked box from underneath the floor.
“No. Not to our government,” my father responded cryptically but ominously, as he unlocked the combination of the box. I was incredibly curious to know what valuables my father had secreted away under the floorb
oards.
“Then where to?” I hesitated to ask, almost not wanting to know the ugly truth.
“China, North Korea, Iran, and Pakistan. Any nation willing to pay his price.” He then reached in and pulled out something metallic. My heart practically stopped beating as I saw what looked like a nine-millimeter semiautomatic pistol.
“Oh my God . . . ,” I muttered, horrified by the revelation of Bar Tech’s despicable plans and never having seen a real gun up close and personal.
What the hell was my dad the doctor doing with a semiautomatic weapon? Much less a Walther PPQ, which I knew from seeing enough action films was the kick-ass weapon of choice favored by law enforcement? My head was spinning. What the hell was going on?
“I never wanted to burden you with this knowledge if there was no reason, if I could spare you,” he explained sadly. “I’m so sorry for dragging you into all this.”
Before I could process this information fully, my dad pulled out a slender black leather ID wallet. He handed it to me. My hand was literally trembling as I slowly flipped open the flap.
I gasped audibly when I saw what was inside. It was an official ID with my father’s photograph.
I read the ID, which was issued by the United States government. By the Department of Defense.
“Holy shit,” I said aloud, looking up at my father in a completely new light.
“Now you know,” he replied tersely as he took back his ID from me. “Your father’s a government agent.”
My head was spinning from information overload. Everything I thought I knew about my dad had been upended in less than five minutes. He was a deep-cover spy.
Before I could ask my dad another question, his cell phone buzzed, interrupting us.
“Dr. Ashley,” he said as he answered the call. He listened intently to the person on the other end, nodding and looking directly at me. “Uh-huh. I see . . .”
I tried not to react or show that I was the tiniest bit paranoid. I couldn’t help but worry the call had something to do with Maya or me.
“I’m on my way,” he declared. “Keep him comfortable and quiet. Don’t do anything else until I get there.” And then Dad ended the call, looking distracted, his mind obviously elsewhere.
“Everything okay, Dad?” I asked, trying not to be too inquisitive but picking up definite apprehension from his troubled expression.
“Chase Cochran’s out of the coma,” he announced thoughtfully.
“Oh. That’s . . . good news. Right?” I was trying to get a fix on exactly what my dad was thinking. But at the same time I was also incredibly apprehensive about what Chase might say about Maya and the attack when he started talking.
“Listen, I need to get over to the hospital right away,” he muttered, not directly responding to my question. “You’ll be okay? Alone?”
“Yeah.” I nodded my head, barely able to get a word out. I was so ready for the day to be over.
“I promise we’ll talk more tomorrow,” he assured me as he closed up his secret compartment.
“Okay,” I muttered, still reeling over the explosive secret my father had just shared with me.
My dad nodded vacantly, then just turned on his heels and hurried off down the stairs without another word. A moment later he was out the front door.
I remained standing in the doorway to the hall, frozen, until I heard my father’s car pull out of the driveway, at which time I finally exhaled. That was the moment when all the stress and craziness of the day finally hit me full force. It was also the moment I realized I had the world’s worst headache, thanks to the pulse Maybe my father wasn’t totally lying about those electromagnetic waves after all.
I felt dizzy and light-headed and leaned back against the wall for support so I wouldn’t faint. Then I slowly slumped to the floor and started to cry. The tears just flowed. I couldn’t stop them, and I couldn’t stop my body from shaking. I wasn’t sure what I was really crying about, but it felt like a relief to let it all out. I took out my new cell phone and wanted to call my mother and tell her everything. But I realized I didn’t have her number stored in the new phone. Nor did she have my new number, which meant she couldn’t reach me. Through my tears I started to laugh at the ridiculousness of my predicament. I was such a complete mess.
19. THE DAY AFTER
* * *
I woke up at six the next morning and dressed quickly. I wanted to get out of the house early so I wouldn’t have to face my father. I was still so flipped out by his confession that he was a government agent—a spy. I had no idea what it all meant for me, or for my future in Barrington.
I had tried calling Jackson after my father had left for the hospital the night before, but the cell network was already down, no doubt deliberately disabled by Bar Tech. Even though I was sworn to keep my father’s identity secret, I had to see Jackson. I had to talk to him. But what could I even say? The one thing I knew for sure was that leaving town was no longer an option. It would compromise my father’s cover, not to mention raise way too many questions about me.
As I was scribbling a note for my dad, I heard him rustling around in his bedroom at six thirty. He’d be coming down to the kitchen in a few moments. He and I had a lot more to discuss. I had many more questions that needed answering. Still, I wasn’t quite ready to face him again. So I left my hastily written apology on the kitchen counter, informing Dad that I was going out to clear my head and that I’d be back later to talk. Our discussion would have to wait.
I bolted out the front door and hurried down the walk. I was immediately struck by the sensation that something had changed. At first I couldn’t figure out what was different. Was the sunlight brighter than usual? Or was the sky bluer?
It was the birds. I heard chirping and singing again. Loud. Not many birds, but a few, perched high up in the trees and on front lawns. A whole new generation of birds had migrated to Barrington. I had no idea how or why, but it was as if nothing had ever happened. They were happily oblivious. I wished I could be too.
I arrived at Jackson’s house. I had texted him that I was en route, so he was waiting anxiously for me. Apparently he hadn’t slept much either.
“The birds. Have you noticed?” Jackson asked, opening the door to his house as I hurried up his front walk. We hugged each other for what felt like a long time.
“How could I not?” I replied, desperate to confide everything I had discovered about my dad, but I knew I couldn’t. “Do you think it’s because of the pulse?”
“Who knows? But something definitely feels different this morning,” he admitted warily as we pulled apart from our embrace. “What happened with your dad after I left?”
“Not much,” I said, shrugging and hating myself for lying to Jackson. “He was incredibly weird, though.”
“In what way?” Jackson questioned, studying my face, trying to get a read on what I meant.
“My dad insisted that what happened yesterday was all due to some natural event. Then he dashed off to the hospital because Chase woke up from his coma.” Could Jackson tell I was deliberately leaving out all the important parts in between?
“We have to hope Maya’s halfway to Chicago by now,” said Jackson.
“Out of reach of Bar Tech and this town,” I added, hopeful that she had made it free and clear.
“I’m feeling like maybe we should’ve gone with her,” Jackson blurted out, which totally threw me for a loop.
“Why?”
“Because my gut says that this thing goes a lot deeper than we even know.” He took my hand.
I shifted uncomfortably. Did Jackson suspect or know about my father’s secret? I so wanted to confide in him and confess: Hey, guess what? My dad’s a secret government agent. But instead I bit my tongue and didn’t say a word about it.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“We stick to our plan and keep our mouths shut,” Jackson reminded me. “I’ve got cash and supplies in case we need to leave in a hurry.”
&nb
sp; By then Jackson’s neighbors had started emerging from their houses, picking up the morning papers off their driveways. Everyday life went on as usual.
Jackson and I watched in amazement how cheerful and normal everyone seemed.
“It’s as if no one remembers yesterday’s near riot,” I said, completely bewildered by the level of denial that people appeared able to live with.
“Maybe that’s better,” Jackson wondered, embracing a cynical perspective. “Keeping the illusion that everything’s all right. That we’re all happy campers.”
I just had to laugh. And I couldn’t stop.
“Are you all right? What’s so funny?” Jackson was bewildered by my odd reaction.
“Nothing. Everything. Us,” I replied, suddenly overemotional. “The absurdity of our existence in this stupid town. What the hell does any of this matter?”
“What’s going on with you?” Jackson pressed, sensing that I was concealing something big from him. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Did something happen with your dad?”
“Is it crazy to want a do-over?” I evaded answering his questions, indulging in fantasy instead. “To pretend none of this ever happened to us? That we haven’t changed. That we’re just normal kids.”
“We can leave today, Nica. This minute if you want,” exclaimed Jackson, staring deep into my eyes with utter seriousness.
My loyalties were torn between protecting my father and the boy I loved. I didn’t know how to tell Jackson that as much as I wanted to run away with him, I couldn’t go. Not then. Not anymore.
Just as Jackson was about to speak, he got stricken with this sick look, suddenly turning ashen. Like he’d seen a ghost.
“Jackson? You okay?” I asked, worried that maybe he was having a stroke or some horrible reaction to expending all that electrical energy last night.
Jackson didn’t respond to me. All he muttered was “Dana.”
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