“At a party,” he repeated doubtfully.
“It didn’t seem like she was enjoying being there,” I said gamely and he snorted.
“That’s more like my girl.”
“When I heard her, I knew she was…like me.”
“Like you?” He echoed and I nodded.
“A Nightingale kid.”
“And what exactly is a Nightingale kid?” Hope exclaimed, padding into the kitchen on bare feet. She poured half a cup of coffee and then filled the rest with creamer, skipping the sugar, and when I eyed her cup, she said defensively, “I like creamer.”
She eyeballed the crumbs on our plates. “I see you met Dad.” She smiled, “Glad you survived.”
“Near thing,” I grumbled, just loud enough for her ears and she laughed, plopping into the chair next to me, ignoring when it wobbled.
“So, what did I miss?” She asked eagerly, taking a sip of coffee.
“Mercy here was just telling me about your friends and the parties you go to,” Hope’s Dad informed her and she choked on her coffee, coughing until I pounded her on the back.
She shot me an accusing gaze and I shrugged. “How was I supposed to know you’re an antisocial freak?”
“Maybe because you’re one too?” She sassed right back, glaring at me.
“Okay, fair point, but I didn’t know what he knew,” I defended myself.
“How about we just tell me the honest truth?” Hope’s Dad interrupted, his voice bland. “I think I can handle it.”
I shot a glance at Hope, whose expression was equal parts terrified and hopeful. I decided to go first, just in case he couldn’t handle it. “I know where a person will die,” I stated bluntly, holding his gaze. He blinked but didn’t say anything so I continued. “All I have to do is hear them and I know precisely where they die.” I tapped my temple. “I also have a perfect sense of direction.” I shrugged. “Part of my ability, I guess.”
“And that’s how you knew Hope was like you? Because of your…ability?”
“Yes, when I heard her speak, I knew we died in the same place,” I declared. “It was enough to make me seek her out.”
“We die at the same time,” Hope whispered, wrapping her hands around her coffee mug, not looking at either of us. “That’s my ability…to know when you die.”
“Your,” Hope’s Dad cleared his throat, “Your mom?”
“That’s when I figured out what the dates meant,” Hope confirmed and I watched her Dad’s face crumple. “I call them expiration dates.” She still hadn’t looked at us, and I figured it was the only way she could finish. “I also know what time it is, down to the second.” Her voice broke and I knew she couldn’t continue so I asked what she couldn’t.
“Can you handle us, sir?” My question came out sharper than I intended, and looking at him I saw a man whose world had just been shattered.
“Call me Frank,” he replied heavily, scrubbing his face. “I knew they were experimenting with genetics, but this –”
“I doubt they had any idea of what they created,” I answered, rubbing the back of my neck as I told them what I’d come to believe over the years. “We were collateral damage, supposed to be taken out with the trash. Except, we weren’t. We grew up and found out we were just a little bit different.”
“A little bit.” Frank pressed his thumbs against the bridge of his nose. “Hope, why didn’t you tell me?”
“It was hard enough when we lost Mom. Knowing what I do, it doesn’t do a person any good to know when they’re going to die.” The note of finality in her voice cued him into what she didn’t say.
“Hope, your ability….it doesn’t,” he took a deep breath, steeling himself. “You don’t know when….your expiration date is, do you?” She nodded, as her gaze slowly rose to meet his. “I’m not going to like this, am I?” She shook her head. “Lay it on me, kid.”
“There are 18 days, 14 hours, 57 minutes, and 22 seconds until I die.”
His swallow was audible and I could see the instinctive denial on his lips. I wanted to deny her words too. It was too soon. We don’t have enough time, I wanted to protest.
“You’re absolutely sure?” He verified, and I could see the words cost him. He was accepting everything we said at face value and it made me wonder how much he knew about the Nightingale Foundation.
“Yes,” we answered in unison and he looked at me.
“Where does it happen?” He avoided the word death and I couldn’t blame him.
“4 miles, 676 yards, and 2 feet south, south west of here,” I rattled off, mapping the shortest route in my mind.
“Okay, I’ll put in my notice at work tomorrow. We’ll start packing tonight. The three of us should be ready to leave within the week,” he decided, gulping the rest of his coffee. I blinked as my eyes started to burn. He was ready to uproot their entire lives because he thought it would save us. I hadn’t been able to convince Kendra to move to save her own life.
“We can’t leave,” Hope spoke up, her expression mutinous. Frank matched it with one of his own. “I have friends here, friends I have to save. Running away isn’t the answer.”
“Yes, it is. Live to fight another day. You know where you die, you know when, staying is foolish,” he roared, banging his hand on the table. “I lost your mother. I refuse to lose you.” He was breathing heavily when he finished, an unspeakable agony in his eyes.
“We have time,” Hope pleaded, reaching out to her father. “Let me save them and then I’ll go.” She glanced at me. “We’ll go. Joy too.”
“Joy?” Confusion crossed his face. “Who is Joy?”
“The last Nightingale kid,” I answered and he dropped back in his chair.
“Another one?” We nodded and he rubbed his eyes. “What can she do?”
“She feels someone’s death when she touches them,” Hope said, her voice hushed. “You never explained what you meant by Nightingale kids.”
“The Nightingale Foundation is where Kendra worked. They oversaw the experiments,” I replied, glancing at Frank for confirmation. “From what Kendra told me, we were the only survivors of the experiments, which made it very easy to fake our deaths.”
“What exactly were they doing?” Horror coated her question, but I’d barely scratched the surface.
“Manipulating genes to prolong life,” I answered. “They started with women who were pregnant, injecting their embryos in utero. All of the infants were born with age related diseases, dying within weeks of birth.” Hope covered her mouth but I still heard her gasp. “The scientist leading the experiments decided that she needed to manipulate the genes before the embryo formed, then use IVF and surrogates to produce the super babies.”
“It worked,” Frank stated, his eyes meeting mine. “The three of you are the result of that last experiment.”
I nodded, “Kendra said there were originally six embryos implanted, one pregnancy wasn’t viable, two were stillborn, and then –”
“Us,” Hope murmured.
“But by then, the experiment was considered too costly, too many deaths, and questions from the original experiment were causing problems. The women who had signed up for the original trial thought they were getting additional testing, nothing was mentioned about gene mutations being done on their unborn babies.”
“Your mom participated in this?” Hope sounded disgusted and I couldn’t blame her.
“She did, but she didn’t agree with it. She was one of the ones who reported what was going on, and smuggled documents out to prove it.” I glanced down, knowing Kendra’s efforts didn’t exonerate her, but unable to stop myself from defending her. “She took care of me when there was no one else. She gave you to Frank,” I revealed, filling in one of the blanks in Hope’s past. “I know that’s not really enough, but she tried in the end.”
“She was the nurse in scrubs,” Frank murmured, shaking his head. “I’ve prayed for that woman every night since that day.”
I swallowed. “She
died a few weeks ago.”
“I’m sorry, son,” Frank replied and I nodded, unable to speak. “If I’d known about you, I would have taken you too.” My startled gaze lifted to meet his and I saw the sincerity in his eyes, and my own started to burn. Hope rested her hand over mine and as I gave her a sideways glance, I had a glimpse of what my life would have been like if Frank had taken me that night. I would have had a family, a sister, and a home. People who believed in me.
“I’m sorry for what I said about Kendra,” she murmured and I squeezed her hand.
“It’s late and you kids should be in bed,” Frank grumbled, hauling himself to his feet. “She got you in the closet?” He asked me and I practically heard her eyes roll.
“Yeah,” I replied, smirking slightly. “I’m firmly in the closet.”
“Funny,” she retorted. “I’ll have to let Amber know.” She darted away before I could grab her, laughing.
“How do you do that?” Frank shook his head. “Talk about death one minute and laugh the next.”
“Years of practice,” we said in unison and our startled gazes met. “Death is inevitable,” Hope murmured, glancing away. “Laugh while you can.”
Frank’s expression was disconcerted, the deep set furrows on his face telling me it had been a long time since he’d laughed. “We’ll wait until you can save your friends, but I want both of you far away from here when the time comes,” he said adamantly and Hope surprised him with a kiss on the cheek. “Losing you is not an option,” he whispered, the pain in his voice making me glance away.
“You either,” she replied, flicking a glance my way to let me know she included me in that statement. “Now, I need some sleep. School starts in 8 hours, 9 minutes, and 47 seconds.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Mercy
Light streaming through the window woke me and I blinked, trying to recall where I was. The day before flooded through me and I sat up, the soft bed underneath me telling me it hadn’t been a dream. I padded through the silent house until I reached the kitchen where I found a note on the table.
Mercy,
Rode with Houston and Joy to school. Bessie’s keys are in the bowl.
Hope
P.S. Don’t run away.
I laughed at the last line and set the note back on the table. Running away was no longer an option. I had to see this through, even if it meant dying.
I poured myself a bowl of cereal, hooking my foot around the chair to pull it out as I sat down. The sound of the front door opening distracted me from the chocolaty puffs and I tensed, my fingers curling around the spoon defensively.
A blonde bombshell wandered in, studying everything curiously, and came to a stop when she saw me. “You’re still here,” she commented, her gaze raking over me. “Gonna spoon me to death?” She questioned sardonically and I flipped the spoon around, relaxing. “Hope said you would be here, but I didn’t believe her. You seem like the type to run away.”
“Glad I proved you wrong then,” I answered around a mouthful of cereal and milk and she cast me a disgusted glance. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”
She gave me a careless shrug. “Dying gives a girl a pass,” she replied, her voice belying the casual gesture. “I figured it was more important to make sure you didn’t disappear.”
“So, basically you wanted to hang out with me,” I concluded and she glared at me. “It’s understandable. Faced with death you want to live a little. Take a walk on the wild side.”
“If I wanted to walk on the wild side, I would have went to the zoo,” she snapped, leaning over the table and giving me a nice peek at her cleavage. “I want to make sure you don’t hurt my friend. She’s been through enough. I don’t want her to lose me and you,” she declared, her gaze raking over me as she muttered under her breath, “Not that I know why she cares so much about you.”
“Probably because I’m her brother,” I answered, giving her a toothy grin when her lips parted. “And don’t worry, it’s not like Hope and I have that long to live.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she asked, “What do you mean?”
“We have less than three weeks, according to Hope.” I tilted my head. “Unless I can stop it.”
“What?” She yanked a chair out, sitting down as she continued to stare. “Start at the beginning.”
I explained everything Hope and I had discovered, the Nightingale Foundation, and when we were supposed to die as I finished my bowl of cereal. “You want a bowl?” I asked her finally as she sat absorbing the entire story.
She surprised me when she said, “Yes,” but I just shrugged and poured another bowl for her and me. “You said you can stop it,” she mentioned, scooping up a huge spoonful and cramming it into her mouth. “Explain.”
I blinked at her, wondering if this was what love looked like as I watched her demolish the entire bowl without an ounce of self-consciousness. She waved her spoon at me when I didn’t speak, breaking the trance she’d created. “Hello? Earth to Mercy.”
I cleared my throat, lifting my own spoon. “I didn’t say I could stop it,” I corrected, taking a bite. “We’re missing something and I plan to find out what it is.”
“You have a theory,” she stated, picking up the bowl and drinking the chocolatey milk out of it.
The sight sealed my fate as I declared, “You’re perfect,” and she glanced at me archly.
“And you’re a long-haired, tattooed loner,” she summarized succinctly, her tone distinctly ‘what of it?’
“You like it,” I stated, a slow grin forming.
“Not the point,” she chided, tilting her chin up. “Back to the actual point, what’s your theory?”
I let it go, not missing the way her gaze skimmed over the tangled waves of my hair. Blond streaks mingled with copper in my dark brown hair, a color Kendra used to jealously describe as tawny. “It doesn’t make sense to me – the way we die. All three of us dying in the exact same spot, at the exact same time, in the exact same way. It’s not possible.”
“Some would say knowing where someone else dies isn’t possible either,” she pointed out and I nodded grudgingly.
“I agree, but this defies the laws of physics and simple coincidence,” I argued passionately. “We don’t all die.”
She squinted at me, lips pursed, and I resisted the urge to lean over and kiss her until we both forgot what we were talking about. “You think only one of you dies,” she perceived, tapping her fingers as she concluded, “And you plan for it to be you.”
Her perceptiveness amused me. “Breaking all those blonde girl stereotypes, aren’t we?”
“Am I wrong?”
“I don’t know. Would you miss me?” I countered, scooting closer, seeing something in her eyes as her body mirrored mine.
“Honestly?” I dipped my head, wanting her truth as my body swayed closer to hers, an almost magnetic energy pulling us together. “I would.”
The two simple words threatened to shatter my control as I leaned closer, our lips a hairsbreadth away. “So don’t do anything stupid,” she snapped, destroying the moment as she shoved me back with one sharp fingernail. “You dying doesn’t fix anything.”
I sat down hard in the wooden chair, rocking backwards at the force. I gritted my teeth as she folded her hands under her chin, smiling at me in satisfaction.
“This has been fun, but I’ve got things to do.” I stood, picking up our bowls and taking them to the sink, dismissing her.
“I’ve got nothing but time.”
A glance over my shoulder revealed her settling back, her bared teeth telling me she had no intention of moving.
“You enjoy yourself,” I smirked, strolling past her. “Lock up when you leave.”
“Where are you going?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
I felt her gaze on me as I disappeared down the hall. When I got to my room, I stripped my shirt off, tossing it on the bed. I tugged the last clean shirt I had out of my bag
, resolving to wash clothes tonight. I kicked off my sleep pants and picked up the jeans off the floor.
“Well, that answers that question.”
I turned, holding the jeans in my hand as her gaze drifted up. I rolled my tongue over my teeth, not bothering to cover myself. When her gaze finally hit mine, I arched an eyebrow. “Like what you see?”
Her gaze dropped to the bulge outlined by my briefs. “I do appreciate a well-endowed pair of briefs.” Her tongue slicked over her lips, the slow movement causing my lower body to tighten. I rubbed my hand over my stomach, one thumb looping under the waistband of my briefs as I gave an experimental tug. Her breath hissed in, and I rolled the hem down, feeling her gaze follow the motion. “Are you finished teasing me?” She accused, breathing a little faster as she clamped her hand around mine, stilling it.
“And here I thought you liked a good tease,” I rasped, my hair falling forward and tickling her face as I ducked my head lower.
“You’re not going to distract me,” she answered, the hitch in her voice giving her away. “I’m sticking to you like glue. You’re not going to abandon Hope.”
“Hope or you?” I asked, my lips skimming her cheek as I stepped back, forcing her hands to drop. I stepped into the jeans, zipping them but leaving the snap undone as I grabbed the shirt and pulled it over my head. “And I didn’t invite you along,” I murmured, gripping her hips and walking her backwards until we were out of my room. “Don’t forget to lock up,” I whispered in her ear as I sidestepped around her and went out the front door.
I whistled as I walked to old Bessie, her rusted sides giving her an authentic feel. It was only when I opened the driver door did I realize I’d forgotten something. I spun around to see Amber at the top of the steps, keys dangling from her finger tips as she smirked. “Forget something?”
I exhaled, glancing up at the bright blue sky. “I’ll take those,” I answered, holding out my hand.
“Hmm, yeah, I don’t think so,” she retorted, stomping down the steps. “You’re stuck with me, like it or not.”
“Oh, I like the idea of you being stuck all over me,” I leered, keeping track of the keys in her hand as my gaze traced over her body. “When I get back, I’ll show you exactly what I mean.”
Expiration Date Page 16
