Expiration Date
Page 22
I knew the likelihood of us ever being able to come back here was unlikely, but I still wasn’t ready to let it go.
I settled against the wall, waiting for Houston and my Dad to get back. They’d had to replace something on the camper and Dad was going to pick up his last check from work, then we were hitting the road. I kept hoping when we got away from here, the expiration date would disappear like it had for Amber and Brandon.
The door knob rattled and I started to get to my feet, eager to leave as the countdown grew closer. “About time. I was starting to get worried,” I said, turning. “I thought you wanted to be gone hours ago.”
“Sorry to disappoint, dear, but Houston was delayed,” Miranda said, stepping delicately over a bag as I stood frozen. “You’ll have to put up with me, I’m afraid.”
“What did you do to him?” I growled, rage snapping me out of my frozen state. “I swear to God if you hurt either of them,” I threatened.
“He’s my son,” she hissed. “I would never hurt him.” She straightened. “He unexpectedly had a flat tire so I came to keep you company.” Her gaze swept the room. “Going somewhere?”
“Why?” I asked tiredly, feeling the heavy beat of each second of my countdown. “It didn’t have to be this way. We were leaving.”
“She has Joy,” Miranda cried, shocking me.
“What?”
“She took my daughter and I’m going to get her back,” Miranda said, her eyes wild and a little desperate for my liking. “And you’re going to help me.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Joy
The wind blew my hair as Brandon drove down a back country road to his grandparent’s farm. It had taken two days to get here driving and I was excited to finally see my new home.
“Almost there,” Brandon called over the rush of the wind, both our windows rolled down. He was happier than I’d ever seen him, content in a way that I envied. This was a new adventure for me, but he was coming home to a place he adored.
When he’d mentioned he had a safe place where we could be together and I could live without gloves, I’d questioned his sanity. It sounded impossible to me, but he’d swore it was true. I just had to take a leap of faith and go with him.
I shifted in the seat, feeling the hard edge of the burner phone Mercy had slipped me at the hospital. It was my only connection to Hope and Mercy in this new life and I refused to lose it.
“You’re happy,” I commented and he gave me a wide smile. “I kept thinking I was ruining your life, but this is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“It’s more than I ever wanted,” he replied, reaching over to take my hand, the one I hadn’t bothered to put a glove on since I didn’t need it with him. “Coming to the farm was always my dream, but I never in a million years thought I’d have you by my side when I did.”
“Why go to college when you knew you wanted to run the farm?”
“Mostly my brother,” he answered, barely a hitch in his voice now when he mentioned Bradley. He was still under observation since he admitted to wanting to kill Brandon, but the doctors suspected he had schizophrenia and that with treatment he could have a semi-normal life. “Brad never wanted the farm life, but he wanted us to experience college together. I figured I could get a degree in farm science which would help me in the future.”
“It was a good plan,” I told him, squeezing his hand.
He smiled. “This is a better plan,” he shouted, his excitement infectious and I laughed. “As long as you like it,” he added, glancing over at me. “It’s not an easy life. Some call it lonely. It’s hard work,” he cautioned.
“Sounds perfect,” I confessed. “I always knew I couldn’t live or work around people. This is a dream I never allowed myself to have.” I leaned across the seat to kiss his cheek, reveling in the fact that I could. “You are more than I ever dreamed.”
He turned off the highway and we rumbled over gravel for a couple of miles before coming to a white, two-story farmhouse with a wide wraparound porch. I stared at it in awe, not even noticing when Brandon stopped the truck.
“Welcome home, Joy.”
“This is it?” I asked disbelievingly.
“Yes, it’s a little rough, I know. No one has lived here since my grandparents died a couple of years ago, but with a little work it’ll be –”
“It’s perfect,” I cried, stopping his flow of words as I scrambled from the truck and ran up the low steps, stopping when I saw the swing. “It’s more than perfect,” I bawled as he slowly came up the steps behind me. “It’s everything.”
He wrapped his arms around me, rocking me as tears streamed down my cheeks. “So,” he drawled. “You like it.”
“I…I never thought I could have this,” I choked out, twisting until I faced him. “You, this, it’s a perfect life.”
He led us to the swing, wincing when it creaked, but it held and he pushed us with his foot as I curled next to him. “Most of the fields are leased, but there a few acres we can work. Enough for a huge garden, some chickens, a cow, pigs, a couple dogs?”
“A cat?”
“That too,” he agreed. “The town is small and they don’t like outsiders. We’ll get plenty of warning if someone comes around asking questions. It’s a quiet life on the farm, but you won’t have to wear your gloves unless you’re working in the garden.”
“I don’t know the first thing about farming or gardens,” I admitted, “But I’m willing to learn.”
“That’s all it takes. I spent every summer out here with my grandparents learning the farm. It’s why they left it to me. They knew how much I loved the place.” His lips skimmed my hairline. “And now I get to show you.”
We sat there swinging back and forth as the sun slipped behind the trees and the crickets came out. “I’m gonna go inside and make sure everything is working,” Brandon said and I started to get up with him. “No, stay. I’ll come back. I just want to make sure we have hot water later.”
I eased back onto the swing, lazily pushing my foot to continue swaying. The phone in my pocket poked me uncomfortably and I remembered I was supposed to text Mercy and Hope. I pulled it out of my pocket, typing out the phrase we’d agreed to use, the one that meant we were safe. Mercy had sent one a couple days after he’d left and now it was my turn.
I checked, but there was no message from Hope and after doing a little math because of time zones, I realized our expiration date was in less than an hour. I gazed at the wide open sky above me, seeing the first stars coming out and prayed she was safe.
Chapter Thirty
Hope
“Miranda, she doesn’t have Joy,” I repeated for the thousandth time. “Lillian has no idea where Joy is, I promise you.”
“No, you don’t know my Joy. She would not leave. She’s fragile. She needs my protection. I owe her that much.” Miranda paced. “I set up a meeting with Lillian this evening. I’ll give you to her and she’ll give me Joy. That’s our arrangement.”
Fear crawled up my spine at the possibility of Lillian having Joy. I tried to convince myself it was impossible. Brandon and Joy had left. There was no way Lillian had her. I rubbed my hand over the phone in my pocket, praying I’d get the text telling me she was safe.
I didn’t need a clock to tell me there was only 56 minutes and 44 seconds until my expiration. Desperation gnawed at me, but Houston and my Dad hadn’t shown up yet, and until I got the text from Joy, I couldn’t leave. If there was even the remotest possibility Miranda was right and Lillian had Joy, she was my best chance at getting her back.
“Just a little longer,” Miranda told me and I nodded warily. She’d steadily grown calmer as the hours ticked by, and I was afraid it was the calm before the storm.
A slight vibration against my leg sent a spark of relief through me. It had to be Joy. Mercy had already texted us, so it was Joy, I convinced myself, carefully sliding my hand in my pocket. I kept a careful eye on Miranda as I discretely checked the burner phone.
“A man with hope will know joy and keep mercy.” The text was from Joy and relief almost made me lightheaded. She was safe. Lillian didn’t have her and I needed to get the hell out of Dodge.
“Okay, Miranda, it’s been swell, but I’m gonna have to go. Joy is safe, I swear to you, but I’m not. Not here, so I’m leaving. I wish you the very best in life.” I talked as I edged backwards to the door, hoping Houston and Dad were seconds away from pulling up.
“You’re right,” Miranda said. “You’re not safe here.” She pulled a revolver from her purse, pointing it directly at me and I considered taking my chances. “Don’t,” she barked, her hand coming up, far more steady than I would have guessed and I remembered Mercy saying she died in prison. “You are my only bargaining chip with Lillian and I’m sorry, truly I am, but my daughter comes before you.” She waved the gun. “Now, let’s go. We don’t want to be late for our meeting.”
I lifted my hands, conceding defeat as she nudged me out the door and to her car. My gaze swept the street but I didn’t see Houston’s truck. I could only hope they were safe and didn’t try to come after us.
Miranda forced me to drive and I debated crashing the car and making a run for it, but she kept the gun pressed right up against my side. She gave me directions and as I pulled into a parking space, I wasn’t the least bit surprised to see where we were. The streets were almost empty in the downtown area, people long since gone home from work, but the taco truck still sat at the corner, reminding me of the night we’d met Mercy.
“Come on, let’s go,” Miranda said, her eagerness apparent and I almost felt bad for her. She thought she was getting her daughter back, but she’d lost her the day she sold us out to Lillian, and I doubted she’d ever see Joy again.
I came around the front of the car, trying to keep my distance from Miranda and the gun, but she pressed right up to me, the nose of the gun wedged by my ribs. Dusk had fallen and the streetlights were just starting to come on as we made the familiar walk to where I’d seen Mercy the first time. A woman in a long coat stood there now and I squinted, trying to make out her features in the almost dark. I expected to see horns, claws, and fangs; the very devil himself.
What I didn’t expect to see was an older version of myself, one who happened to have the exact same expiration date. I stumbled and the gun jammed into my side hard enough to leave a bruise. “Do not mess this up,” Miranda hissed and I nodded, now less concerned about her and more concerned about the monster who was our mother.
“Finally,” Lillian cried, her gaze scraping over me greedily. “I’ve waited so long to meet you,” she cooed, but her eyes were hungry. “When I found out about your ability, I knew I was right all those years. I was on the right track with my experiments and now I can start them up again.” She clapped as I stared at her in horror. “The investors want to meet you, of course, but first, you know when someone dies, correct?”
I nodded mutely, already knowing what she was about to ask.
“When?” She stepped forward eagerly. “When do I die?”
Before I could inform her she had 3 minutes and 23 seconds left, Miranda spoke. “Where is Joy? Where is my daughter?”
Lillian gave her a condescending smile. “Your daughter? Really, Miranda, it’s lovely that you care so much but really, she’s not yours and never was.”
“She’s more mine than she will ever be yours,” Miranda growled. “Now, where is she?” She revealed the gun she had pressed against me and Lillian’s lips compressed. “I want my daughter and you want Hope, so we make a trade.”
“I don’t have Joy,” Lillian gritted out, gazing at me longingly, but I saw the truth in her eyes, she wanted me for what I knew. She was desperate to know how long she would live. A woman who chased the idea of creating a genetic version of the fountain of youth would never let someone like me go.
“You used your own genes for the experiments,” I claimed, wanting to hear the truth before it was too late, needing to validate my own theory about the expiration date rapidly counting down in my head.
She smiled, a hint of pride peeking out. “I did. I wanted to make sure I had a perfect specimen to work with and it worked. You are the first step. The things we’ll learn from your DNA,” she clasped her hands together, practically bouncing in excitement. “I informed the original investors and they are so eager to meet you. Just like me.”
Her words sealed both our fates as she destroyed any chance of us having a normal life. The three of us would forever have to hide from those who would attempt to use us for our abilities.
“You don’t have Joy,” Miranda whispered, her gaze wild and I tried to lean away as she snapped. “You don’t have her.”
“No, but when you find her, I’d be glad to study her too,” Lillian stated, tearing her gaze from me. “She would be a valuable control for my studies.”
“Your studies,” Miranda repeated, her face disbelieving. “She’s a person,” she enunciated and I felt the gun move from my side as Miranda swung it toward Lillian. “My daughter isn’t a control for one of your experiments. She will never be a part of your experiments.”
The gun went off, startling me even though I’d expected it, the sound echoing in my ears as Lillian fell to the ground. Miranda collapsed next to me, sobs tearing from her as she dropped the gun. I walked over to Lillian as she lay there, staring up at me in shock. “Spoiler,” I said, crouching down. “You die in 1 minute, and 38 seconds.” Her head shook slightly, trying to deny it even as she lay bleeding out. I jerked a thumb to Miranda. “She dies in 12 years, 2 months, 5 days, 17 hours, and 19 minutes…oh, and 10 seconds. Can’t forget the seconds. She dies in prison if it makes you feel better.” I leaned closer and she tried to speak. “Nope, I’m talking,” I told her. “You’re a monster. What you did, those infants you killed to further your own science, you’ll pay for that, but you will never hurt your own children again. We will do what you wouldn’t. Save lives instead of take them.” I watched the light fade from her eyes, sirens piercing the night air, as I heard my name being shouted.
I stood and saw Houston and Dad running toward me, relief coating their faces. I smiled, as for the first time, hope for the future filled me.
Epilogue
Mercy
Pink and blue stripes streaked her blonde hair, but she was unmistakable as she walked across the campus. Her mouth was drawn in a frown instead of her usual snarky smile, but it didn’t matter as I strode toward her, setting our trajectory on a crash course.
“Oomph,” she wheezed, as I slammed into her, pushing me away. “Watch where you’re going.”
“You automatically assume it’s my fault. Just like a woman,” I muttered, trying to keep the laughter out of my voice as I shook my head, and her body tensed against my own. “Did it ever occur to you that you might have run into me?”
Her head slowly lifted, almost as if she was afraid of what she’d see, and the first thing she said was, “You cut your hair.”
“You dyed your hair,” I stated, since we were going with the obvious. “Going for the unicorn look? I hear it’s all the rage with the girls these days.”
“You came.”
“You thought I wouldn’t?”
“It’s been a year.”
“Eight months,” I corrected and she rolled her eyes. “I had to make sure it was safe,” I told her, dipping my head next to hers. “I had to make sure you would be safe.”
“I got a text from Hope,” she whispered, the words brushing my cheek. “It was months ago, just telling me she was alive and that your expiration date was gone, but it still wasn’t safe for you.”
“It’s not,” I murmured. “Not really. There are people who would love to find us, study us, and recreate what we can do.”
“You still came,” she breathed, her nose pressed against my jaw. “You risked your safety. Why?”
“Because I promised you I would. Because I don’t want to exist, only to run from shadows. I want to live, to love,
to be with the one meant for me.” She turned her head at my words, her lips hovering a bare millimeter from my own. “I’m here to stay,” I promised and her mouth met mine, electricity arcing through me as we kissed, tongues tangling as we made up for lost time. “Maybe we should take this somewhere more private,” I gasped as we broke apart, glancing around the green campus. “I have an apartment.”
“What kind of girl do you take me for?” She questioned sassily and I grinned.
“The kind who waits for the perfect guy to show up,” I responded, my tongue darting out to lick my lower lip and her eyes tracked the slow motion.
“A girl has to have a little faith,” she threw back at me and my grin widened.
“It’s a good thing you have me then,” I answered, stepping back and holding out my hand. “Allow me to introduce myself,” she took my hand, eyeing me warily, “Matt Faith, at your service.”
“You’ll always be Mercy to me,” she replied, pressing against me and I groaned.
“I missed you, Amber,” I whispered, nuzzling her hair. “I came as soon as I could.”
“I know you did,” she replied softly, leaning into me. “Hope and Joy? Are they okay?”
“Yes, they’re both safe. We’re going to meet up in a few months,” I told her, my hand skimming down her side. “Will you come with me?”
“I told you once that you were stuck with me. I meant it,” she answered and I held her tightly.
“Consider me yours,” I murmured, taking her hand as we walked down the path. “Where you go, I go.”
Hope
“Where are we headed next?” Dad called, flipping a burger over the campsite’s grill. I glanced up from what I was writing, staring at him cluelessly until he repeated himself. “Where to next, Hope girl?”