MILA 2.0: Renegade

by Driza, Debra

“Mila?” Hunter again, more anxious now.

  “It’s okay. Just don’t move.” I turned back to the door. Fear pricked along my skin. My android sensors had never been wrong before, but it didn’t matter. I had to try.

  I extended my index finger, reaching toward a cloud of shimmering red.

  My flesh made contact . . . and then the room exploded into a haze of static.

  The shock knocked my legs right out from under me and propelled me back, one, three, five feet. I made a frantic grab for the table on the way down, but it couldn’t hold me. As my back slammed the hard floor, the table tipped, pelting me with a barrage of vials, bandages, and ointments. My ears rung, and the world moved around me in staticky, jerky waves.

  Disjointed commands burst through my head: Override lock. Upload. Project.

  And then my hands collapsed to my sides, and my thoughts were no longer my own—my brain, completely derailed. Robotic voice. Taking. Control.

  Systems check:

  Impact: 500 volts, damage possible.

  Checking internal functions.

  Checking data processing.

  Checking memory.

  A red light.

  Blink. Blink. Blink.

  From somewhere in the distance, I heard Hunter’s voice, heard a clatter as something hit the ground. “Mila? Mila?”

  Panic. Mine, or his?

  Blink. Blink. Blink.

  I tried to free my thoughts from the systems check, but every . . .

  Checking internal transistors.

  . . . time I pried my brain free, the . . .

  Checking living tissue.

  Oxygen levels low. Increase uptake.

  My chest expanded and deflated, rapidly. A machine, breathing for me.

  Part of me wanted to fight; but acceptance won out. The android part knew what it was doing, and I had to let it help. I had Hunter’s life at stake.

  Finally, a slowing in the streams of red commands, the contraction of my lungs.

  Oxygen levels: Acceptable.

  And just like that, I slipped back into my own mind.

  What the hell had that been about? It wasn’t the first time I’d frozen up, but it was definitely the worst. All of that malfunctioning, all of the weird memory fragments . . . something was wrong inside me. I could feel it.

  A warm hand grasped my shoulders. I opened my eyes to see Hunter kneeling over me, pale and tight-lipped, his bad arm dangling awkwardly. But his eyes were wild, his movements choppy and frantic. “Mila? Mila!”

  “Don’t worry, I’m okay,” I managed, but the words came out all wrong. No, not the words—my voice.

  My hand flew to my mouth, as if I could take back the deep, impersonal, digitized sound emitting from my throat. The same sound that echoed through the garage.

  Not my voice at all. A robot’s voice.

  Hunter’s hand went slack. His lips moved, but the only thing I heard was a sharp hiss of air between his teeth. Finally, he said, “I don’t understand . . .”

  And then he did the thing I’d always feared, from the moment I’d learned what I truly was. The entire reason I’d lied from the start.

  In angry disbelief, Hunter backed away from me, one, two, three steps. Like I was something too terrible to touch.

  “Hunter,” I started, only to stop when he flinched at the wrongness of my voice.

  I closed my eyes, balled my fists. What the hell was happening? Had the electricity fried something inside me? There had to be a way to reset, surely. I couldn’t live with this masculine, robotic noise spewing forth every time I opened my mouth.

  Voice software: Systems check?

  The words blinked, at the ready.

  Yes.

  Running scan . . . systems check complete. Restore original voice?

  My chest heaved in relief.

  Yes.

  A slight vibration in my throat; a tightening sensation just under my chin.

  Restoration complete

  Too late, though. I knew that as soon as I registered Hunter’s horrified expression.

  “What are you?” he whispered.

  Inch by inch, I raised my eyes, until they connected with his. When I’d pictured this moment in the past, I’d always finessed my way to the ultimate reveal, circling the reality in hopes of slowly breaking Hunter in. That way, I’d figured, maybe he’d be less likely to be repulsed.

  But not now. I would apologize for lying, but I couldn’t bring myself to apologize for what I was.

  Even if that meant Hunter never looked at me with acceptance and longing again. If I couldn’t be true to myself, then I was worthless to anyone else, anyway. I looked him right in the eye, and with a steady voice, finally stopped lying.

  “I’m an android.”

  If my heart hadn’t been knotting itself into a painful ball, the expression on his face would have been comical.

  “An android?” he repeated, with a slight lilt. Like maybe he’d misunderstood.

  I nodded.

  “You’re joking. Right?” In his voice I heard hope, doubt, and fear. I watched as his mind whirled, undoubtedly playing back the parts of our journey that, up to this point, hadn’t really made much sense.

  The way I’d overpowered Grady and Ashleigh. The ease we’d had breaking into this very house. My driving without headlights. And, I saw the second he realized—my arm.

  With his attention firmly focused on my arm, he backed up another step. “It’s not possible.” But I heard the lack of conviction in his voice. I’m sure he wanted his words to be true. But wanting didn’t affect reality. I could tell him that.

  I tilted my head to the side, pulling back my earlobe hard. We might as well get this over with. “Look,” I said, exposing the hidden USB port.

  He stepped closer, gingerly, leaning forward to take a peek. His gasp twisted the pain deeper.

  “How . . . when . . . ?” One finger reached out as if to touch, then he recoiled before contact was made.

  Another twist. But I managed a brave smile. “It’s a long story. But I can give you the short version. Here, come sit down.”

  He immediately retracted another step. “I’m fine right here.”

  “Hunter, please,” I said, forcing the hurt from my voice and trying to sound soothing. “You need to sit—”

  “Don’t talk to me like I’m a child! And don’t you get it? I don’t want to be near you. Not now!”

  His words slashed like razors, but I pushed that aside because in his weakened state, his vehemence made him stumble. I darted forward as he regained his balance. He held up his hand.

  “Don’t. Don’t touch me.” A beat and then, “Please.”

  Soft and pleading, and coated with a world of hurt. My heart bled for Hunter and for me. And for this unbridgeable chasm between us.

  This was the way I’d always known it would end. Inevitable, from the first moment I discovered what I really was. And, despite coming to terms with my own otherness, I didn’t blame Hunter. After all, it had taken me a long time to get here.

  I turned away from him. No longer able to bear the repulsed expression on his face.

  “This doesn’t change anything. We’ve still got to find a way out.”

  Hunter’s strangled gasp punched me straight in the gut. “Doesn’t change anything? Are you out of your mind? It changes everything. Everything!”

  I whirled back, concerned that he was overexerting himself. Sure enough, his legs trembled, and his forehead beaded with sweat. But his eyes glittered with a dark, feverish anger.

  It felt awful, knowing I brought out the worst in him. But I couldn’t back down. “Why? Because I’m different than you? Trust me, I’m not as different as you might imagine. I think. I feel. I want.”

  “Don’t try to turn this around on me! That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

  I winced.

  “And it’s not because you’re different. Even though we’re not talking you’re-from-out-of-town-and-like-to-eat-with-your-toes differe
nt here and more like this-makes-me-wonder-if-I’ve-been-sniffing-glue different. It’s not,” he insisted, when I shot him a skeptical look. “Not just that anyway. It’s because you’ve been lying to me from the start. About everything.”

  I had no comeback for that. I mean, I could argue that I hadn’t known from the start, either, but what was the point?

  I stared at the floor, my eyes swimming with tears.

  “Can you name even one thing you’ve been honest about? One part of your life where you told me the truth? Or how about just telling me something that’s true right now?” His voice was soft now, resigned.

  I lifted my head bravely, even as the tears slid down my cheeks. A million thoughts poured through my head. You’re amazing. No one has ever made me feel this alive. But what finally came out was pure. Simple. And unfortunately, far too late.

  “I love you.”

  For a moment, the hard shell of his expression cracked, and I caught a glimpse of the old Hunter beneath. The vulnerable, open, easy boy I’d fallen for. His lashes fluttered down, and he sighed. But then the stranger’s mask slipped back on. His eyes were guarded, before he presented me with his back. Not even acknowledging what I’d said. “You were right—we need to focus on finding a way out.”

  Unable to bear his rejection, my phantom heart cracked, shattered, burst. I stared at his rigid shoulders and decided we needed a plan. Because the faster we escaped Jensen’s garage, the faster I could get away from Hunter.

  At this precise moment, the idea of being stuck with him in a confined space was more terrifying than a thousand Hollands.

  I walked the perimeter of the room. If even one of the lasers had a weakness, maybe we could force our way out.

  “What are you doing?” Hunter asked, as he eased himself back onto the table. His face held an unnatural pallor that worried me.

  “Inspecting the lasers to see if there’s a chink in the system.”

  Keeping a respectful distance this time, I started at the one closest to the door and worked my way clockwise around the room.

  500 volts.

  500 volts.

  500 volts.

  “You can tell? Just by looking at them?”

  “I can sense the voltage.”

  Silence, so I resumed my inspection. Two hundred and twenty-two stops later, I was back in the center of the room. Whatever tiny bit of hope I’d been clinging to regarding a flaw in the system had long since disappeared. All the beams were functional, and they were way too close together to even attempt to squeeze through. I’d pulled a ladder into the middle of the room and pounded on the ceiling, but it was every bit as solid as the door.

  It was like Hunter and I had been locked away in a glowing, metal tomb.

  In frustration, I picked up the nearest object—Jensen’s keyboard—and chucked it at the lights with all my might.

  Sparks exploded like fireworks. Without thinking, I dove for Hunter and threw myself on top of him, protecting his body with my own. Lightning streaks of red flashed overhead. I had hoped that maybe the power would dim somehow, but the red poles glowed as brightly as ever.

  I became aware of Hunter’s stiff body beneath mine, and scrambled back. “Sorry, I was trying to . . .” I scooted away, blowing a stray piece of hair out of my eyes. No sense explaining.

  “I know what you were trying to do,” he said, in a hard-to-decipher tone. A pause. “So basically, we’re stuck inside a giant booby-trapped garage, in a prison made out of . . . of . . . lights? Who the hell is this guy, anyway? Since obviously he’s not your father.”

  He wasn’t and yet . . . he kind of was. “He’s former military. Part of the original project to create me. Then he left and fell in with another group who wanted to steal me from the government, and ultimately left them too.”

  He pondered that. “So what you’re saying is, he’s some kind of whacked-out loner?”

  Yeah. That about summed him up.

  “What does he want with us?”

  This one was simple enough to answer. “I don’t know.”

  What I did know was that none of the possibilities were good.

  “Jesus,” he muttered. He forgot about his injury and shoved both hands into his hair, then yelped and grabbed at his shoulder. He chewed his lower lip, suddenly thoughtful. “This other group who wants to steal you—is that the Vita Obscura?”

  I nodded absently before realizing my mistake. Too late.

  His eyes narrowed, and his chest rose and fell. “You thought I was part of a group that was trying to steal you? And then what?”

  I opened my mouth, closed it, clenched my hands together and opened them again. No sense in lying now. “They want to take me apart and assess my technology. Strip me and sell off the most valuable pieces.”

  I watched his jaw muscles work, beneath his skin. Teeth clenching and unclenching. “And that . . . GPS thing you found? That’s one of theirs?”

  I nodded. “Mom and I found one when they were chasing us before.”

  A curt nod, that was all. I had no idea what he was thinking. Maybe it was better that way.

  “You never trusted me at all, did you?” A hint of sadness. Of resignation.

  “That’s not true,” I whispered. “I just didn’t really trust myself.” No response, so I said, “You should sit down, try to get some rest.”

  “You think I can just lie down and sleep? Now?”

  I hadn’t said that sleeping would be easy, not after all the shocks he had had. But that didn’t mean he shouldn’t try. If we were going to escape, he needed to be as rested as possible. And even then—

  A shrill buzzing sounded.

  I frowned, shook my head. Thinking it might just be internal.

  “Is everything okay?” Hunter asked, with a slight frown. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was worried. But that was just me being hopeful.

  “Do you hear that?” I asked, while at the same time, my prompt flashed:

  Hearing function: Maximum levels.

  The buzzing rose, higher and higher, drowning out everything but the insistent drone. Around us, the red light beams of our prison pulsed brighter.

  “Hunter?” I whispered, hands over my ears, watching the lights with growing suspicion.

  “I see it.”

  The buzzing subsided and a rumble sounded from overhead. It felt like the entire garage shuddered. Then a whir, coming from the direction of the automatic door.

  “Get up!” No time to worry over his sensibilities now. I reached down, preparing to yell if necessary, but to my surprise he clasped my outstretched hand and allowed me to pull him to his feet. As he gained his balance, the red lights flashed off.

  I steadied him, then took a step forward, ready to act as a shield, while beneath the door, a strip of dim light formed.

  “Get ready. The garage door is opening.”

  Hunter moved up and wrapped his hand around mine. I fought not to be undone by the relief and comfort I felt by his presence. I glanced over at him. His features were set in a determined mask.

  The door continued to rise at an ominously slow pace, revealing a pair of narrow black boots with just a hint of a heel. A woman’s feet.

  More ground was revealed, showing more feet in the background—four pairs. But not all soldier’s boots, as I’d been expecting. Boots, navy blue high-tops, white-and-yellow track shoes, black basketball shoes. No uniformity.

  I allowed myself a moment of hope. Maybe this wasn’t as bad as I thought. Maybe Jensen had called people to help. Because so far, this didn’t have the feel of an organized army.

  Weapons scan:

  A flicker, in the red words. And then:

  Information lost.

  I shook my head again to clear it. Perhaps there was some interference? But I was distracted by the garage door continuing its grinding climb, revealing more of the scene on the driveway.

  Night vision: Activated.

  The shadows brightened into recognizable shapes for just an i
nstant, long enough for me to make out Jensen’s SUV a few feet away, and beyond it, a white van, at the far end of the driveway.

  Night vision lost.

  Human threat dete—

  Information lost.

  My hand tightened on Hunter’s. I tried to remain focused, despite the panic clawing its way into my heart. There were five of them, and I had no idea if they were armed. Maybe I could engage them by myself—but with Hunter to protect . . .

  Although he’d rejected me, I could never reject him.

  I shifted my attention back to the woman in front. She stood the closest, so the automatic outdoor lighting was enough to inspect her. Black pants. Black shirt, under which I could detect the faint outline of a vest. Kevlar? Finally, the door rose high enough to reveal a round face with familiar cheekbones. She had short blond hair, wide-set eyes.

  Faded blue eyes. A variation of which I’d seen a hundred times before . . .

  Beside me, Hunter’s startled intake of breath confirmed my suspicions.

  “Mom?”

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  ..................................................................

  EIGHTEEN

  A man of average height with broad shoulders stepped out of the shadows into the light. Overall, there was nothing particularly memorable about his appearance. Faintly receding brown hair, oval-shaped face. Neither slim nor obese. Attractive in a plain way. The kind of man you’d see and never think of twice.

  Only, I recognized him, too.

  “Peyton?” Hunter’s stunned exclamation confirmed it.

  The man was Peyton Lowe. Hunter’s stepfather.

  Once Hunter’s initial shock faded, he released my hand, his relief evident. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you guys. How did you know where we were?” He half-turned to me. “Mila, that’s my mom, Sophia, and my stepdad, Peyton.”

  Sophia gave me a hesitant smile, while Peyton nodded. I gazed at the pair of them, taking in more details. Sophia wore little makeup, and though her good posture suggested confidence, the way she shifted her weight from side to side meant she was a little antsy. That fit with the ragged skin next to her nails, which suggested a nervous biting habit.

  Peyton, on the other hand, stood easily, with a quiet confidence that hinted at capability under pressure.