“You seem to know a lot about us. How come we’ve never heard of you?” Griffin challenged.
“We’ve tried to be discreet,” Dr. Clarke replied. “But we’re not entirely unknown. The government knows we exist, and as long as we don’t interfere”—she smiled smugly—“they don’t bother us too much—although, sometimes it’s a matter of what they don’t know won’t hurt them. All in all, we do our best to stay off their radar.”
Tilting my head, I asked, “So did it work? Did they get what they needed from us?”
Dr. Clarke frowned. “We don’t know. Not exactly.” She closed her fist and the images vanished, the screen behind her going dark. “There was a breakdown in communication—if you could call it that in the first place—between us and the M’alue. Cooperation ended abruptly, and we no longer know where they are in their experiments.” Her lips flattened into a thin line. “I had a chance to meet privately with Ben after his group arrived yesterday, and today with Agent Truman, and I think I’m up to speed on your reasons for coming. I know about the maps and the message. It’s not good.” She paused. “Hopefully, we can help each other out of this . . . situation.”
Jett glanced around the table, and I realized not everyone had all the pieces. “What exactly is our situation?”
Agent Truman arched one brow at me. “Go ahead.”
“What haven’t you told us?” Griffin prodded.
“I can’t say for sure, but I think they’re coming. And I think we only have nine days until they get here,” I said.
“How can you be sure?” my dad asked.
“I can’t. I mean, that’s the thing. Every morning when I wake up, I get this . . .” I turned to Tyler, thinking maybe he’d know what I was saying. He was the only one who’d witnessed what I’d gone through, while we’d been on the run. Plus, how did I even start to describe this? “Pains. Like intense, stabbing pains.” My voice was wobbly. “At first I thought it was nothing . . .” I shrugged. “Just part of this whole Returned/Replaced thing. Over time it got worse, and then while Natty was holding me hostage, one of them mentioned I was some sort of countdown. I started to realize what I was feeling was them . . . getting closer. Somehow I can sense them.”
“The same way you felt Adam,” Tyler said.
I nodded. “Yeah, like that. It’s like I’m tracking them. I mean, I could do without the stabbing part, but . . . yeah, like that.”
Jett—as our resident numbers guy—was the first to ask, “So where’d the nine days come from?”
“Same place Tyler’s maps came from, I guess.”
“So, thin air,” Simon said snidely to Tyler.
Tyler shrugged. “If that’s what helps you sleep at night.”
Simon rolled his eyes. “I wish.”
“We’ve gotten a bit off track,” Dr. Clarke interrupted. “The real question is, what do they want?” When no one answered, Dr. Clarke continued. “Have you ever heard the term extinction level event?”
“Do you mean like the dodo bird?” I asked, wondering where she was going with this.
“I mean,” she stressed, “that the Earth has already survived five mass extinction events, including one that wiped out ninety-six percent of all life on this planet.”
I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to respond to that.
Dr. Clarke straightened the hem of her jacket and fixed her gaze on each of us, one at a time like she was weighing our skills. “This is our chance to play a part in stopping the next one.”
“How do you figure?” Willow asked.
“We need to find a way to prevent them from coming. To prevent them from exterminating us. And, apparently, we have nine days to figure out how to do that.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Days Remaining: Seven
TWO DAYS HAD PASSED AND WE WERE NO CLOSER to figuring out what the M’alue’s message meant, or what they wanted from us, than we’d been when we’d first taken the underground plunge into the ISA for help. I also still hadn’t figured out where Tyler and I stood. I knew he was avoiding me—using his new ability to sense me to vacate any room before I arrived, or to wait until I was gone to enter. It was frustrating and awkward, because everyone knew what was happening.
And whenever we were forced into the same room, I could feel his eyes on me. It was the same thing my dad had done, that watching-me thing, like I was too blind to notice.
With no news in the two days since Dr. Clarke had given us her “We need to stop them from exterminating us” speech, we’d all started to go a little stir-crazy.
We’d been given limited access to the underground facility, the parts that weren’t classified. Griffin and Willow had started making several trips to the gym each day, and then again to the large indoor track, just to burn off steam. I’d gone with them once, but they were hard core. Working out, for the two of them, was something that rivaled the Olympics, each of them jockeying to be the fastest runner, to lift the most weight, to do the most pull-ups, push-ups, chin-ups, or sit-ups. Pushing and challenging the other until I realized I’d gone invisible.
One trip had definitely been enough.
I’d tried on several occasions to convince Dr. Clarke to let me see Adam again, but she’d denied me every time, not even bothering with excuses, just telling me his lab was restricted. I argued we’d seen him once already, and she just repeated that it was a “restricted” area.
I even tried convincing the security guards to give me a tour of the upper floors, hoping to catch another glimpse of the M’alue in his body-sized test tube. It was weird the way I was consumed by thoughts of him, and if Tyler and I had been on better terms I would have asked him if he felt the same. But we weren’t.
Then there were the tests. Strange ones.
It had started that first day, just before dawn, when Dr. Clarke had come to me and asked if I wouldn’t mind being monitored while the sun came up. If my dad had known what they were planning he would have objected, which was why I didn’t tell him.
Normally, I’d never want someone watching while I squirmed in agony. It would be like letting someone watch me pee. Superweird.
But with the fate of the world in jeopardy, who was I to deny such a simple request? What if they discovered something that might help, even in some small way?
So I’d agreed, not realizing they were going to turn it into an event. That I’d be on display, like a circus sideshow—Step right up, ladies and gents, see the freak who counts down to the alien apocalypse! For an extra ticket, you might even be able to touch her.
I was surrounded by scientists and technicians, then hooked up to conductors and wires and probes.
That was what sent me right over the edge, straight into Panicville. The probes. It was too much like the asylum . . . of everything Natty and Eddie Ray had done while they’d kept me strapped to that rusted metal gurney, monitoring me.
Somehow, though, I’d kept that panic in check, swallowing it down like hunks of sharp cement. It was prickly and it tore up my esophagus, but I reminded myself I was here for mankind’s sake . . . for my friends and family. I took one for the team.
At the onset of the pangs, I pretended not to notice them, those first pricks and pinches. But within minutes, tears had been streaming down my face.
Eight . . . eight . . . eight . . .
Eight . . .
The number repeated over and over in my head while I’d broken out in a sweat, holding my breath, struggling against the shooting, stabbing, slicing pains. All these people watching . . . all these intruders. I didn’t want to embarrass myself. I didn’t want them to see me at my worst.
In the end, though, I was weak. I couldn’t help but give in to it, and I let out a low moan. What difference did it make? Why should I care anyway? I didn’t owe these strangers anything, let alone a show of dignity.
When it was finished, when it was beyond-the-shadow-of-a-doubt over, I opened my eyes at last. The room was empty of everyone except Dr. Clarke, who thanked me fo
r coming. For “participating,” she’d said as if I’d just competed in Field Day and earned a blue ribbon in the sack races or the water balloon toss.
The whole thing happened again this morning, the tests. But at least this time I’d known what to expect. The only difference was the number repeating in my head: Seven, seven, seven, seven . . .
Simon materialized out of nowhere just as I was ducking out of the track, where I’d taken a quick run before Willow and Griffin decided it was time for another of their marathon sessions. I made a point of acting as if he hadn’t caught me off guard, but the truth was he had. I’d been avoiding Simon the same way Tyler had been avoiding me—pretending I didn’t notice him while I was acutely aware of his presence at all times.
“So,” he said, falling into step beside me. I picked up my pace even though I had nowhere in particular to be. “You and lover boy, back together again . . .” Even from the corner of my eye I could see the way he raised an eyebrow. “I guess congratulations are in order.”
I shrugged and kept walking. “You know that’s not how it is.”
“Isn’t it? You got exactly what you wanted. I’m happy for you. Really, I am.” He was lying, of course. I could hear the letdown in his voice.
I slowed, looking down at my feet. “I don’t think he can forgive me about Natty. About having to kill them. And I don’t blame him. Not really.” I inhaled, trying to wipe my own memory of what I’d done. Maybe loving me wasn’t enough. “Even if he does remember about us, it might not even matter now.”
When I realized Simon had stopped walking, I did too. I turned back to him, and he was giving me a look that said what he thought: I was being stupid. “What’d you expect, Kyra? You really think you’d drop a bomb like that, and it’d be all happily ever after?” His tone was harsh. “This isn’t some fairy tale. Things don’t work like that. And even if they did, you two don’t have that kind of history.”
I clenched my jaw. “For once I wish you’d just say what you mean.”
“What I mean is, how well do the two of you really know each other? You were together, what . . . a week, ten days before he got sick? That’s less than two weeks during which you fell madly in love? Are you kidding me?”
“Shut up,” I insisted. “You’re wrong.” Tyler and I might only have had two weeks together after I’d been returned, but that had been two weeks added to the rest of a lifetime that we’d known each other.
Okay sure, a lifetime where we’d been virtual strangers, where I’d barely given him the time of day because he was younger than me back then . . . but that didn’t change the fact we had a history, whether Simon understood or not. We’d gone to the same schools, our families had been close . . . and we’d spent our entire lives across the street from each other.
Those experiences counted for something.
I started to walk away, but Simon reached for me. “Seriously, Kyra, hear me out. Are you just hanging on to Tyler because he’s part of your history? Because he reminds you of your past? Is that enough to make a relationship? Is it really about memories—the things you think you shared? Or is it about having a connection?” His fingers curled around my wrist, insistent, and I stopped trying to get away from him.
Hadn’t I wondered those same things, when I’d first come back . . . and in the weeks since? Not just about the people around me, but about myself. What made me who I was—was it my memories and past experiences? Or the person I was now and my actions going forward?
It was kind of like my old bedroom at my mom’s house. After I’d come back it was no longer my room anymore. Sure, it was the exact same space—the same room in the same house—but it wasn’t the same. Not really. My mom had packed up all the things that had made it mine—all my pictures and posters and trophies, my stuffed animals and clothes, ticket stubs from the movies I’d seen, and my journals and CDs. Everything personal to me. Everything that had given it character.
Everything that made it feel like home.
Maybe my body was just a new bedroom where all my old stuff—all the things I’d collected and cherished—had been moved. A new home filled with Old Kyra’s memories and feelings. A place where I could start all over again.
“Think about it, isn’t it better to really know someone . . . to see the other person for who they are, flaws and all, and still want to be with them?” Simon’s grip loosened but I stayed still, trapped by my swirling emotions, and by eyes that were so vibrantly copper I got lost in them. “You and I,” he went on, “we’ve spent more time together than the two of you ever did.” His voice swept over my skin like liquid silk. He inched closer, a playful smile tugging his full lips. “We’ve survived so much. We can survive this too.” He reached underneath my chin and nudged it up. My breath hitched and I wanted to look away, but the only place I could look was there . . . at those molten eyes of his. “You and I might not have history, not yet anyway. But I know you. I see you, and that means something. You just have to give me a chance, Kyra.” He leaned closer, coming right at me. My brain sent the signal to shake my head, to tell him, No . . . no way! But my heart was thumping out of control, and all I could think was, This isn’t happening . . . this isn’t happening . . . this isn’t happening.
But it so totally was. Simon was positively-for sure-without a doubt going to kiss me. “I can’t promise you won’t regret it, but I can guarantee we’ll have fun along the way.” He exhaled then and his breath was there, fusing with mine. His lips, those lips of his that I’d been watching just a moment earlier were right there, and I was helpless . . . hopeless to stop them.
It was the light above us that made me pause. It flickered. Just like that, out of the blue it went on and off, then back on again.
Without realizing what I was doing, my hands flew to Simon’s forearms, which were sinewy. I felt stupid when I saw he was grinning down at me. “See? Together, we’re electric . . .”
I was about to tell him what an idiot he was for being so cheesy, but then the bulb above us exploded. Tiny shards of glass shattered down on us, landing in my hair and hitting my exposed skin.
Simon’s arm clamped around my shoulder as he dragged me out of the way. “What d’you think that was?” I asked as I reached up to brush fragments of glass out of my hair.
Forgetting his whole seduction act, Simon surveyed the hallway. The rest of the overhead lights flickered but stayed on. He shook his head.
As I followed his gaze I realized something was terribly wrong. We needed to get to the others.
But before I could warn him or take a single step, I was gripped by the sudden knock-me-to-my-knees kind of pain.
I knew what this was.
Simon was at my side, the concern thick in his voice. “Kyra. What is it? What’s wrong?”
I wanted to explain, but I couldn’t breathe. Each spasm was worse than the one before. It was the same pain that came at dawn, only stronger . . . more intense. And at entirely the wrong time. My body was trying to collapse in on itself, like a can being crushed from the inside out.
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t talk. I couldn’t do anything except curl into a ball and wait for it to pass.
Just another two seconds, I told myself, and then two stretched into five . . . and then ten . . .
Sweat broke out over my forehead. It soaked my chest and my back. My skin itched, suddenly not fitting right, like it was being stretched too tight over my bones.
An unwelcome image of Adam flashed through my mind, and suddenly I wondered if his species ever shed their skin. Maybe that’s what was happening to me. I was shedding this Kyra-looking skin, and when I did, the real me—the M’alue me—would materialize at last.
If that were the case, what would this next version of Kyra look like? Would I be reptilian and scaly? Or maybe doughy and soft . . . a milky, marshmallowy version of myself?
Just when I thought I’d been stretched too thin . . . when I was wondering if maybe I was going to explode into a million grisly pieces, the
whole thing just . . .
Ended.
As quickly as it had begun, it was over.
I waited several beats, several breaths, wondering if it would start again. But there was nothing. Not a single pinch or cramp, or tightening of my skin.
“You okay?” Simon hovered in front of me, anxiously rubbing his hands on his thighs. All traces of cockiness had vanished.
I sighed. It was nowhere near dawn. This . . . whatever I’d just gone through . . . it should never have happened. But it had, and it definitely meant something.
Getting to my feet, I took the hand Simon offered. “I . . . I guess so.”
The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, causing both Simon and me to look up.
That was how Tyler caught us.
His green eyes dropped to my hand and to Simon’s and he frowned uncertainly. Then his lip curled. And, after a heartbeat or two, his face just went . . . blank.
He cleared his throat. “I . . . ,” he started. “I thought you needed me. I thought you needed help.”
He’d sensed me, I realized. He not only knew where to find me, but somehow he’d known what I was going through and he’d come looking for me.
Before I could tell him he was right—that I did need him . . . or explain that this . . . what he’d seen between Simon and me wasn’t what he thought . . . or just to say I was glad he’d come, he was already walking away.
TYLER
“TYLER, WAIT. CAN YOU PLEASE JUST WAIT A SEC?” Kyra begged.
I didn’t want to be that jerk, the one who makes the girl beg. As if she hadn’t been through enough already, what with the kidnapping, and being tortured and all.
I’d finally gotten past it, that’s what I was on my way to tell her when I felt her . . .