“People have taken nanites for lesser reasons than that.”
Paige sighs. “Maybe.”
“I think you should give yourself a break.”
“I think we should all give ourselves breaks. But unfortunately, we’re stuck hiding in a cave.” Her voice hardens. “We don’t have time to grieve what could have been.”
A breeze winds around our heads and lifts our hair from our shoulders. “You can’t carry it around forever. You need to let it go.” I let the acorns tumble from my hands and we both watch them roll down the slope.
She smiles. “Like you, you mean.”
I chuckle. “Do what I say, not what I do.”
Paige picks up the binoculars again. She fiddles with the magnification, then pats my thigh. “Silver, I think there’s something over there. I think it’s a compound.”
We jog along the narrow clifftop path. I don’t use any super speed; my energy has only just returned and I don’t want to leach it all away again. Wind buffets my hair and Paige’s wings. After a half mile, Paige pulls me into a thicket of bayberry shrubs.
“There.” Paige points. “Do you see it?”
Tucked around the edge of the cliff and spilling onto the beach are two grey prefab buildings, their edges lined with razor wire. They sandwich a courtyard fenced with chain link and more razor wire running in strips to make a roof. Nothing will be flying in or out.
“Hand me the binoculars.”
I hold the lenses high and scan the building. In the courtyard, I count five armed guards wielding aggressive firepower. Several clumps of people sit around on broken benches or wander aimlessly without shoes. Their clothes are in tatters, and several show bloodstains and bruising.
“It’s a compound, right?” Paige asks.
“I think so.” I strain to see more. “So much for them being treated all right.”
A flash of blonde catches my eye. Combined with the ballet slippers, which are now a shredded mess, the girl is unmistakable.
Lyla.
Matt’s sister. Her blonde hair trails loose from a ponytail, and her pink ballet tights are more suggestion than reality. But physically, she looks unharmed.
“That’s Matt’s sister.” I hand Paige the binoculars. “We need to get her out.”
“We do, but not today. Who knows when your abilities are going to turn up again and I can’t do much with a pair of wings against bullets and trolls.”
I peer around the edge of the bush. “I can’t just leave her in there.”
“We need the others,” Paige says, rising to her feet and retreating into the woods. “Come on, let’s see if those wings of yours are working again.”
It’s been five hours. It’s worth a try. I jog after her into the trees, leaping over roots, squashing the urge to use my speed and instead concentrating on the feeling of lifting into the air.
My wings rise once more, but they ache with fatigue. Nevertheless, I beat them hard and follow my friend into the sky, hoping I have enough in me to get home again.
Flying straighter than an arrow, it takes us less time to reach the meadow we left hours earlier, but as it comes into view, a tense ache runs from shoulder to wingtip, then my wings abruptly disappear into my back.
I scream as I plummet at an alarming speed. I try to grasp at trees but come away with nothing more than leaves. Small cuts open on my arms and cheeks. I taste blood. “Paige!”
She presses her wings against her side and tunnels after me, her hand reaching. Claus and Joe stand in the meadow, their faces stricken. Joe runs around in circles, his arms out, as if he thinks he can actually catch me. Maybe he can, but it will hurt.
“Paige!” I scream again.
I hit a branch and a sharp pain stabs into my ribs. My vision clouds, and I stop grabbing for branches.
Paige shoots past me, grabs hold of my outstretched fingertips and yanks. Her wings beat furiously over our heads and we slow, just as my feet smack down on hard ground. A new wave of pain judders into my ribs. The momentum pushes me to my side into a haphazard forward roll, but I come up the other side like it was all intentional. I manage a weak smile at Joe and Claus, but inside my heart thunders.
Claus drops his cane. “What was that?”
Before I can answer, Joe steps close and peers down at me. “You OK?”
I cradle my ribs on my right side and sit, a little dizzy. “I’m not sure.”
Joe crouches at my side. “Take a deep breath.”
I suck in air and moan when the pain intensifies.
“You might have broken a rib,” Joe says.
“Silver?” Claus limps closer. “Why do you have wings?”
Paige lands softly next to me. “That was close.”
Claus raises his voice, startling a bird. “What is going on? Does everyone apart from me know you seem to possess wings?”
The three of us look at him. I’ve never heard him shout before.
“It looks like my parents might have done something to me in vitro. Matt thinks it’s harnessed from a chameleon. So far it seems I can take on the abilities of adjusteds I touch skin-to-skin.” I pause, trying to catch my breath around the throbbing in my side. “But my abilities aren’t as big or strong or fast. They only last an hour tops if I use one at a time.”
“How long does it take you to recover?” Claus asks, pulling at his mustache.
“Not sure,” I say. “I just had a five-hour break but I wasn’t quite back at full power. Hence the crash.”
“Interesting,” Claus says, accepting the cane Joe retrieved for him. “Very interesting.”
“Understatement of the year.” I wince and hold my ribs again.
He takes a step closer. “With great power comes great responsibility.”
I smile at the familiar words from my favorite superhero movie, then contemplate their reality. Until now, it has always been just a clever line. Now those words hold a new truth, one I don’t know if I want to face.
He taps his cane on the ground. “Francesca will—”
I sit up. “We’re not telling anyone.”
“It will be hard to hide,” Claus says. “There are people who should know. Francesca is only trying to help. She wants to find the strongest team to rescue your parents. You, Silver, just made that team.”
I sigh, but even that hurts. “I’m not ready for that.”
“Hm.” Claus offers me a hand up. “And you wonder why I never pitted you against Kyle.”
I frown. “What do you mean? You knew I was an alt?”
“No, not that, but I suspected something. I couldn’t put my finger on what. I’ve never seen an unadjusted so skilled, so agile in karate.” He puts a hand on my collarbone and squeezes paternally, then bows.
I automatically mirror his action.
“Do you want a regeneration nanite?” Claus asks.
I look at his injured leg. “My ribs will heal.”
His eyes shine. “I’m proud of you.”
I shrug, but the small movement causes me to wince. “Enough about me. More importantly, we found Lyla.”
“Lyla?” Joe asks.
“Matt’s sister. There’s a compound near the beach and she was there.” I start walking to the cave. “We need to tell him, then we can rescue her.”
Matt and Erica appear over the top of the ridge.
“Where have you been? It’s way past dinner.” Matt draws near.
“Practicing.”
Matt looks between me and Claus and makes a little ‘o’ with his mouth. He leads us back to the cave for food. When we’re inside I put my hand on Matt’s shoulder, slowing his pace. “Matt, I’ve got something to tell you.” I lead him into a quiet niche. “Paige and I found a compound along the beach. Lyla was there.”
Matt pales and his lips twitch. “Is she OK?”
I nod. “A little dirty, but physically unharmed.”
Matt bites down on his trembling lip and wraps his arms around me. “I need to go get her.”
&n
bsp; “I know.”
He pulls back. “My parents went off yesterday to look for her, left me in charge of Megan. I don’t know what to do, Silver. I can’t just leave her here on her own, but I don’t want to wait for my parents to get back either. They could be gone a week.”
“Megan will be fine here.” Her and her kickass Disney team. “There are plenty of people to keep an eye on her. She’s twelve, not two. She won’t go wandering off.”
Matt rakes his fingers into his hair and grips at the roots. “It’s not that. If we’re all gone and something happens to us, she’ll be alone.”
A sad smile forms on my lips.
Matt must’ve realized what he said, because he grimaces. “Oh, Silver. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
I hold up a hand. “I know what you meant. It’s OK. I get it. She’s only twelve. She can’t lose her whole family.”
Matt paces, knotting his fingers in his hair. “I can’t just sit here knowing Lyla is out there. They could be harvesting her DNA.” His voice starts to shake. “Damn it, if they harm her…” He turns abruptly and slams his fist into the wall. Wincing, he shakes out his knuckles. They’re scraped and bloody.
I take his injured hand in mine and wrap it tight. “For starters, don’t go punching walls and injuring yourself. There aren’t many regeneration pills left.”
A small chuckle tumbles out of Matt’s lips. He blows his hair out of his eyes.
“You’re not alone, Matt. I’m here. We’ve been friends as long as I can remember.” I stroke the back of his hand. “We’re family.”
His free hand rests on his stomach as he sags against the wall. “Family?”
I nod and press my cheek against his knuckles. “Yes, and first thing tomorrow, we go get Lyla.”
He wraps me in another hug, his breath tickling my ear. “Thanks, Silver.”
Late that evening, Joe finds me in my hollow, trailing a long ribbon of cloth bandage.
I point at it. “What’s that for?”
“I remember breaking a rib before I took the nanite. Not fun. You need support.” He kneels, ready to wrap the bandage around me.
“Where did you get this bandage?”
“I used to wear it around my knee. Should just about be enough for your ribs.” Joe unravels it around his wrist. “Lift your shirt.”
I hesitate. His bare fingers are only millimeters away from my skin. I’m fully rested, so any contact will set off a change.
“Be careful,” I warn.
He locks eyes with me and stretches the bandage out. I lift my shirt and suck in my waist. The soft material of the bandage winds around my torso.
“Hang on.” Joe stands and walks around me. Gently, he grips the edges of the bandage. I can feel the warmth from the proximity of his fingers. So close. I brace myself for a change, but he manages to grab the edges and tuck them in without touching my skin. Once it’s in place, I let go of my shirt.
I take a couple of trial deep breaths. With the support of the bandage, it doesn’t hurt so much.
“That’s so much better,” I say, bending my waist.
“Don’t overdo it,” Joe says. “It’s still going to take a while to heal.”
“We’ll see about that.” I twist at the waist, bend over and touch my toes. The pain is still there, but bearable. Maybe they’re just bruised.
Joe puts a hand on my arm, through my shirt, stopping my movements.
Matt sticks his head around my archway. Deep lines run across his forehead.
I tense as I take in the way he’s clicking his finger repeatedly. He only does that when he’s really stressed. “What’s wrong?”
He steps into the hollow, but he doesn’t stand still. He keeps clicking his fingers. “I’ve been listening to the army channels. Something’s going on in the compounds. They’re burning bodies.”
Joe’s skin turns pale. “Why are they burning them?”
Matt looks heavily between the three of us. “They’re experimenting on the unadjusteds. Live autopsies.”
“Live? What for?” I stumble back until I hit the wall.
“They didn’t find the answers they needed when looking at the unadjusteds’ blood,” Matt says. “Now they’re looking deeper.”
The next day, Matt and I sneak out of the cave before dawn. Wearing a baseball cap low over his brow, he carries a heavy backpack full of his homemade grenades. I’m armed with a pistol. It’s heavier than my knife, and I’m not sure I feel comfortable with it.
“You sure you’re OK to go now?” Matt asks, pushing branches out of his way as we jog through the woods. “Your ribs…”
“I’m OK,” I say. “I don’t think it’s broken, just badly bruised.”
Dappled sunlight flickers around our feet. I quickly break into a sweat as the humidity winds through the trees.
“I never thought I’d say this,” Matt says, stumbling through a dense patch of ferns. “But right about now, I wish I had an ability. Wings or speed would do.”
“I totally get that. Never thought I’d want one either.” I watch his broad shoulders as I walk behind him. “The wings…” I pull in my bottom lip. “They’re amazing. If only they were strong enough to carry you too.”
As the forest thickens, we slow, unable to negotiate the sprawling root networks and hanging branches at speed. After an hour, I stop and gulp water from my canteen. My ribs ache and I press a hand to my side.
Matt’s eyes twitch with concern. “You sure you’re OK to go on? You could just give me directions.”
I cock my head. “Then what? I know what you’re like. You’ll charge the compound by yourself and end up getting locked inside.” I don’t mention I was ready to do exactly that when I was with Paige. “Or worse.”
“I wonder if you should have taken on more abilities before we left.” Matt looks to the path ahead, scanning the trees. “Maybe we’re rushing this.”
I can’t deny Matt has acted impulsively, and it’s not like him. He’s usually so measured and considered. But it’s his sister, goddammit. Who knows what the altereds are doing to them. “It’s not like we’re going to storm the compound,” I say, pointing at his bag, which sags under the weight of the grenades. “We’re just going to check it out.”
Matt readjusts the straps of his backpack. He grits his teeth and I know he’s wondering if he can launch all his grenades at the building.
“This isn’t about me taking on more abilities. This is about you not going off half-cocked.” I narrow my eyes at him. “I think you should leave your backpack here.”
“No.” He turns his back and stomps through the undergrowth. I run to catch up with him. It’ll be up to me to make sure he’s safe, whatever it is he plans to do.
I grab his shoulder. He flinches. “It’s going to be OK.”
Matt looks at me with watery eyes, then down at his feet. “You don’t know that.”
“I don’t, but I have hope. Remember my song?”
Matt nods. “She’s so close.”
“Two more hours,” I say, starting to walk again. I ignore the throb in my side. Matt needs me at my best. Lyla needs us both.
We walk in silence for a while. Then Matt asks, “Are you going to take on other abilities?”
“You want me to?”
He shrugs, but I can’t see his face to read his expression. “Imagine if you were Sawyer. You could just create a hole in the fence or wall or whatever. Rescue mission accomplished. How easy would that be?”
“I guess.” A wall of expectation forms between us.
Since I discovered my abilities, I’ve been thinking of little else. I can see the advantages of these abilities, especially now when they’re useful, but I don’t want to lose myself in them.
I step over a fallen trunk. The bushes and trees are beginning to change. More low-growing, hard-wearing shrubs indicate we’re approaching the beach.
“I think I’m OK with taking on the human ones,” I say eventually. “Jacob’s teleportation and S
awyer’s telekinesis would be valuable. As much as I like the wings, I’m not sure I want to stick out any more than I do already, but if I have to take on something physical, I’ll just get my parents to take it out when we find them.”
Matt steps on a long bramble branch and holds it down until I’m in the clear. “No armadillo shell for you.”
“God, could you imagine?” I shake my head. “I don’t understand some people’s choices.”
“I guess it depends what level they qualified for.”
The light brightens and I look up. The trees have thinned to reveal the golden sand of a wide beach and the gray struts of a compound.
I point. “We’re here.”
We creep around the edge of a bayberry bush like the one Paige and I hid behind. The courtyard where I last saw Lyla is deserted.
“Where is she?” Panic lines Matt’s voice. He moves the binoculars back and forth across the width of the building.
Loud trampling noises sound behind us and I turn, bracing myself for a fight. I relax as soon as I hear Joe’s booming voice. A moment later his head pops into view and he holds up a hand in greeting. Paige and Sawyer are with him.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask.
“Figured you might do something stupid,” Joe says, looking between Matt and me.
Matt scowls and drops his backpack on the ground. “This is looking more like a rescue mission every minute.”
“Just a recon.” Sawyer’s voice wavers, glancing at Joe. The scent of a recently smoked cigarette rolls toward me. “You promised.”
“That’s right.” Joe steps forward and rummages through Matt’s bag. “We’re not blowing up any compounds today.”
“Do you want my ability now?” Sawyer’s hands are tucked up his sleeves despite the heat, revealing the tips of nicotine-stained fingernails. I’m glad he doesn’t use his hands to cook.
I take a step away. “No. It’ll drain me too much if I take it now.”
Sawyer hunches into the shadows. “I don’t know how to fight.”
“But you lived on the streets,” Matt says.
Sawyer shrugs and his blonde curls bounce. “I was good at staying in the shadows. With my ability, I never needed to use my fists. I pickpocketed with my mind.”
The Unadjusteds Page 16
