Unforgotten(104)

“Sera.” Kaelen’s voice interrupts my thoughts and I peer over at him.

“Yes?”

“What happened last night?” he asks. “After they used the Modifier on me.”

The fact that he asked the question means he didn’t take my memories while I was sleeping. He left them alone. The thought comforts me.

I shake my head. “Everything went wrong. Maxxer gave me the cure and I tried to kill her.”

“I’m sorry,” he admits. “I didn’t know what I was doing. I was just—”

“Following orders, I know. I don’t blame you.”

“So you have the antidote, then?” he asks.

I feel tears start to well up again. “No. It was a fake. Maxxer was testing me. She had a suspicion that you—I mean, that Diotech would try to manipulate me. And she was right.”

“So she can’t save Zen?”

The sound of Zen’s name in Kaelen’s deep, smooth voice sends a series of flutters through my stomach. Like a flock of birds scared out of a tree. It’s all wrong now. As though he shouldn’t be allowed to say it. As though I shouldn’t be allowed to hear it on his lips.

Lips I touched last night. With my own.

“I don’t know,” I say in a broken voice. “She said only we”—I drag my finger through the small crevice of space between us—“have bodies that can sustain the gene. It’s why Alixter made you. Any normal human who receives the transplant will inevitably…”

My voice quivers to a halt as last night plays back through my mind. I fast forward, I rewind, I pause, I replay, I search for signs. Symptoms. A shiver. A bead of sweat. A hint of weakness. Anything.

But there’s none.

Maxxer appeared to be perfectly healthy.

And she’s had the transession gene in her system for the longest. After all, she was her own first test subject.

“Come on.” I spring to my feet and tug Kaelen’s arm.

“Where are we going?”

“To figure out why Maxxer is still alive.”

Kaelen hesitates, pulling back. “She won’t divulge any information in my presence. She knows I work for Alixter. You’ll never get her to talk.”

I nod in agreement. “Which is why I don’t plan on talking to her.”





58

PURSUED



The warm dry air slams against Dr. Maxxer’s pale, sunken face as she opens the door of the lab and gazes into the desert night. Her heart thuds against her ribs. Sweat trickles down her face as a shiver tremors through her body.

Clutched desperately in her palm are three capped vials.

She peers into the darkness, listening.

She is alone.

But it won’t last.

A loud, earth-shattering cough rises up in her throat, thrashing to get out. She cements her lips together and pushes it down, tears stinging her eyes. Blood trickling down the back of her throat.

She shudders. Gauging the distance. Wishing she had the stamina to transesse there. Knowing she has to conserve enough energy to get back. Otherwise she’ll be stuck here forever.

She shoves the vials of clear liquid into her pocket and slips out the door. Her legs scream with pain as she forces them to run. Her heart sputters helplessly trying to keep up. Her body threatens to give out. To collapse. To finally let itself be destroyed by the very process that was designed to protect it.

She is too weak to do this.

She waited too long to return.

But she knows she has to reach the house. She has to get there.

If he dies, it will be her fault.

She takes the long way, knowing there will be fewer sensors to dodge. But she knows that means more time on her feet. More opportunities for everything to fail and for her to become food for the foxes.

She stumbles along the rough dirt terrain. One particularly large divot sends her smashing to her knees. The impact of the fall crushing her like a thousand horses galloping across her organs. She gasps for breath. Her stomach convulses, attempting to vomit up empty air. She gags and expels more blood onto the desert floor.

She wills herself back onto her feet.

GET UP!

Another chill rocks her ailing body but finally she’s able to push herself up and stagger forward.

She reaches the concrete wall that separates the house from the rest of the compound. Knowing her fingerprint will never open the gate, she has no choice but to go over it.

Her feet scrape ineffectually against the façade as she fights to get traction up the side. The rough concrete rips at her palms, shredding her skin.

She crashes onto the other side, biting her lip to keep from screaming in agony.

A light shines down from above, blinding her. She squints into the sky, barely managing to make out the sharp silent blades of the hovercopter circling above.