Unforgotten(78)

I squint up at him, confused.

“TDRs cannot be implanted in the average brain.”

Cody stops pacing and glowers at Kaelen. “Hey! Who are you calling average brained? I’ll have you know I have an IQ of 172. I went to Harvard.”

But Kaelen promptly disregards this. “They can only be implanted in enhanced neurological systems.”

“Like you and me,” I say numbly.

“Precisely.”

Cody glances anxiously between us. “I don’t get it. So what does this mean?”

“It means,” Kaelen continues stuffily, “that the memory has always been active. You may just not recognize it for what it is.”

“Then it doesn’t matter that I didn’t come here last night!” I say, a mountain of guilt lifting right off my shoulders. “If the memory is already active, he already has the information we need.”

“No, I don’t!” Cody yells. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I don’t know ANYTHING!”

Kaelen juts his chin toward him in agreement. “Just because it is active doesn’t mean he knows how to access it. He said so himself, he doesn’t know what we’re looking for. Which means Dr. Maxxer directed you here last night with the specific intention to draw the buried memory out of Cody’s brain. But because you failed to follow her direction, the proper stimulation was never introduced. Therefore, our only option is to find the information another way.”

Kaelen takes an ominous step in Cody’s direction and I watch his hand rise slowly in the air, reaching toward Cody’s forehead.

“No!” I leap between them, my arms splayed out to the sides, protecting Cody. Protecting his mind. I won’t let Cody become what I’ve become. A human database. A hard drive. I won’t let Kaelen scrounge around in his brain like he’s searching through a drawer.

I remember how betrayed Cody felt when he found out what Maxxer had done to him in that storage unit. I won’t make him go through that again.

I won’t.

“There must be another way,” I say.

“There isn’t.”

I spin around and face Cody, placing my hands urgently on his arms. “Cody, please. Try to remember. You’re Zen’s only hope.”

Cody shrugs my hands away. “What do you think? I’ve been holding out on you? That I know where she is and have been keeping it all to myself? I don’t know how many times I can tell you this. I. DON’T. KNOW. ANYTHING! You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

But I’m not deterred. “Think, Cody,” I urge. “Think about everything that happened after the day I disappeared. Try to focus on anything unusual that sticks out in your mind. Anything that doesn’t quite fit.”

Cody shakes his head and walks to his desk. “This is pointless.”

“I agree,” Kaelen adds from somewhere behind me. I turn and shoot him a glare.

“Please,” I beg.

Cody pulls out a drawer and removes a bottle filled with light brown liquid. Unscrewing the top, he takes a long swig, then grimaces at the taste.

He sighs. “That’s nineteen years of memories. You’re asking me to find a needle in a haystack. A needle that I’m still not convinced is there.”

“This is ineffective,” Kaelen determines, and walks toward Cody again. Cody flinches and backs up against his desk. Once again, I step between them. “Give him a chance.”

“No,” Cody asserts, slamming the bottle down. “You know what? I don’t want a chance. I’m done with this. All of this. Just … leave me alone, okay?” He pushes past me and doesn’t stop until he’s out the door.

I feel Kaelen react next to me, preparing to follow, but I stop him with a single word. “Don’t.”

He looks at me, clearly thinking I’m insane.

“Give him some time. He just needs to process this. He’ll help us. I know he will.”

Kaelen crosses his arms. “He gets one hour. Then we do it my way.”





45

SHIFT



The small park across the street from Cody’s town house is cold and dreary. There’s a fountain in the center that has completely frozen over and the small brown sparrows are actually standing on its solid surface. Kaelen and I sit on a bench as far apart as we can. We are completely silent. I hear the faint sounds of children laughing on a nearby playground. I convinced him to wait until Cody came home, knowing that Cody just needed time to process.

I watch him out of the corner of my eye. Despite his handsome, chiseled features, he looks tired. A thin layer of dirt shadows his hands. His hair needs to be combed. And his clothes are rumpled. There’s still a large, frayed gash in the side of his pants where I ripped the Modifier from his pocket.