As I watch her body give way, sagging against the rope restraints, falling into darkness, I close my eyes and will myself across the river. Into the heart of the blazing pyre. Into the depth of the suffocating smoke. Reaching for her. Finding her.
Touching her at last.
12: Caretaker
Two days.
That’s how long I keep her unconscious. Deactivated by the Modifier while her body heals. Her wounds are considerable. Her legs nearly burned away. Only bone and charred shreds of flesh and muscle remain.
I spend the hours tending to her burns. I apply salve and ointment and wrap her legs in bandages. Her natural healing abilities do the rest.
When I’m not treating her, I keep as much distance between us as possible. When I’m changing her bandages, I do so with a delicate hand to minimize our skin to skin contact.
The jolt I felt when I pulled her from the fire and brought her here was so powerful it nearly knocked me unconscious right alongside her. I don’t know if it was the heat from the pyre that magnified the sensation, the adrenaline running through me, or something else entirely, but it was a hundred times worse than the feeling I remember from the prison cell. Almost as though every nerve ending in my body remembered how to respond to her and immediately exploded at the feel of her burning skin.
Of all the ways I feared failing Dr. Alixter, coming undone by a simple touch from a broken girl was not one of them.
When I wake on the third day and check under her bandages, I am satisfied to see her legs have completely healed. The muscles have grown back and the fresh skin is pink and smooth.
Today is February 11, 2032. The first Time Delayed Recall implanted in her brain directed us here. To New York City.
I managed to find an abandoned apartment on the Upper East Side with sparse furnishings left behind by the previous owners.
I check her IV. Even though she still has Diotech’s nanosensors floating in her blood, there is no technology available in 2032 to read their signal so I have to rely on outdated equipment, which I easily pilfered by transessing in and out of a nearby medical supplies warehouse. I used this same method for acquiring period-appropriate clothing for myself.
Director Raze thought it best that I bring as little futuristic technology with me as possible. The only items I have from Diotech are the Modifier (to keep her unconscious and in case she tries to fight me), the nanoscanners still attached to my fingertips, and the cube drive in my pocket so that I can continue to scan and store her memories.
Director Raze wants continual reports of my progress. And he wants to be able to analyze the remaining two Time Delayed Recalls once they’ve been triggered.
Her IV bag is almost empty. There’ll be no need to refill it this time. Today I will allow her to wake up.
Today my true challenge starts.
It’s one thing to deal with an unconscious enemy. It’s quite another to deal with a conscious one.
I touch the locket that hangs around my neck. Her locket. I remind myself that as long as I am wearing it, I hold the power.
When I first brought her here, she had it clutched between her gnarled, charred toes. Somehow in the fire, she’d managed to grasp it and open the clasp to activate her DZ227 gene. The chain was broken beyond repair, but I was able to steal a nearly identical one from a nearby jewelry shop after the store had closed.
I sit by her bed and wait for her to stir. It shouldn’t be long before her last Modifier dose wears off and she’s awake.
Up until this moment, I’ve tried not to look at her for too long. Just as I’ve tried not to touch her. But now, I force myself to stare at her face. If I’m going to succeed in this mission, I must confront my fears head-on. I must desensitize myself to whatever it is that seems to take control of me in her presence. I must approach this as any scientist on the Diotech compound would: analyze the situation, test the boundaries, and develop a strategy.
My gaze sweeps across her soft, exquisite features, taking in her high, sculpted cheekbones, the smoothness of her bronzed skin, the curve of her golden lashes, the shape of her delicate pink lips. Then it starts. I feel it in my toes first. A tingling of sorts. It travels swiftly up my legs, as though it’s flowing through my veins. The longer I stare at her, the faster it moves.
I reach for her, fingers outstretched toward her cheeks. My hand is trembling, repelled by her and pulled in to her at the same time. When my fingertips finally graze her soft skin, my whole hand explodes. Like I’ve dipped it into the mouth of a volcano.
I recoil in a blur of movement, stopping the fire from spreading up my arm.
What is that?
Why am I reacting this way?
Is she really so powerful that she can affect me even when she’s unconscious?
I’ve watched every memory they’ve taken from her. I’ve seen the world of the Diotech compound—and the boy she left it with—through her eyes, and I still don’t understand it. I can’t comprehend her motivations. Nor her uncanny ability to affect me.
Where does that power come from? Is it a rare by-product of her defect? Or is it something else? Something I can’t even fathom?
Unfortunately, I’m running out of time to answer such questions because a flicker of movement catches the corner of my eye. I pull my gaze away from her face and stare at her hand, resting palm-up by her side. Her pinkie finger flinches ever so slightly.
The Modifier is wearing off. She is waking up.
I rise to my feet and start for the kitchen. The solution in her IV was only enough to keep her nourished while she was deactivated. She’ll be hungry when she wakes.
As I leave, I take one more look at her sleeping form. Her genetic implant—the thin black line that runs across the inside of her left wrist—is visible on her arm. It’s identical to mine, but just like the microscopic nanosensors swimming in her blood, the implant won’t work here. The satellites Diotech uses to track the implants won’t be launched into space until the next century. It’s the reason it took them so long to find her in the first place.
But now, I am here.
I am her guardian.
I am her tracker.
I am her keeper.
But just until Dr. Maxxer can be found, the Repressor can be obtained, and I can return Sera safely to the Diotech compound.
Then they will be able to fix her. Then they will do whatever is necessary to make her whole again. To make her more like me.
The only problem is, I’m not sure what that means anymore.
They told me I was perfect. They told me I was superior. They promised whatever defects they found in her were fixed in me.
But as I glance back at her face one last time, as I feel the mysterious effect she has on me, I know I have to start accepting the truth.
I might be broken, too.
Farrar Straus Giroux Books for Young Readers
175 Fifth Avenue, New York 10010
Text copyright © 2015 Jessica Brody
All rights reserved
eBook edition, January 2015
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eISBN 9780374379797
Jessica Brody, Unleashed
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