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Cheating Time

Page 4

by T. R. Graves


  Elle was right, and few things frightened me more than knowing my mother was that sick without me realizing it.

  In the space of a heartbeat, Mom began sinking back into the depression that had overcome her when she realized she could not prolong life no matter how many hours she spent testing theories. Much like she had that first day, Elle had heard the desperation in Mom's voice.

  "Selma, I'm going to get you a cup of tea. Which flavor would you like?" Elle had asked in a soothing manner meant to calm Mom's nerves and bring her back from the brink of despair.

  Elle's ease with Mom had been the primary reason we'd taken up residence at the Coxes' farm for the last six months. She'd worked miracles on Mom, and for that, I'd forever be grateful. To this very day, I had no idea what Elle had been putting in the tea, but I did know she'd insisted Mom drink it several times a day and sleep at least eight hours every night. Turning into the perfect patient, Mom had been doing just that, and I had to believe her drastic improvement had something to do with her following Elle's orders.

  Under Elle's care, Mom's entire attitude had become happier and more carefree than ever before. By all accounts, the quietly patient Mom of the last six months was the complete opposite of the highly motivated woman who'd spent the majority of my life tied to her lab and determined to do whatever necessary to please President Barone.

  Basically, Mom had stopped drinking Barone's caustic Kool-Aid and switched to Elle's herbal tea.

  And that was the crux of my problem. I knew firsthand that Barone and his intentions for Mom were dangerous to her mental health. What I didn't know was how lethal Elle's political aspirations were to Mom's life. While there was not one thing she'd ever done to raise my suspicions, I had a gut feeling Elle considered Mom a dispensable pawn in SNP's war against Barone and his barbaric regimen.

  The distrust I felt for SNP in general had me worried that my parents had jumped from the frying pan with Barone into the fire with the Coxes. Despite their pleas suggesting they had everyone else's best interests in mind, I suspected the Coxes were leading my parents down a path they shouldn't be following.

  One where they'd never allow me to follow because of the dangers awaiting at the end.

  On the night when I'd stood on my bed listening to my parents and the Coxes, I could tell by the clinking of cups as they were rested on their saucers that Elle had brewed and served her infamous calming tea. Approximately twenty minutes later, their fate had been sealed when my still anxious mother had asked, "If-if we were to do this, how much danger would Carlie, Tawney, and Gran be in?"

  Mac had answered, "The risks are minimal, Selma. Now… in order to keep things like that, we'd ask that you get Carlie and Tawney off to the preparatory academy a few weeks before they are due to turn seventeen. We don't want Surrogates coming here and collecting them. Those damn Surrogates are infamous for their snooping. In order to keep them from poking around the farm, we'll have to arrange to have Carlie and Tawney picked up at a location away from here. The good news is that should be a relatively simple task."

  Speaking for the two of them, Dad shocked me when he said, "We agree to that. Still, we need to know with as much notice as possible if there is any danger coming this way. We want to get them out of here. We'll stay if we have to, but we won't put any of them at risk."

  Mac's response had been eager. "Agreed."

  Mom's voice was still faraway and small when she said, "I-I'll never work for Barone again in my life. No one knows this, but he's using the MicroPharm to kill babies that aren't perfect in his eyes."

  "What did you just say, Selma?" The shock in Elle's tone had not been lost in the distance between the living room downstairs and my room upstairs.

  Dad had answered for Mom, and his emotions had been almost as flat as hers. "She read a top secret report Barone had commissioned. It included a summary of the long-term benefits of utilizing the MicroPharm to perform selective termination as fetuses are identified as having genetic mutations. According to the report, each termination could save the government approximately four million dollars over the course of the child's lifetime. As if that weren't enough, there was a suggestion that the MicroPharm should be used as constant and consistent birth control in order to save the government even more money."

  That time the curses that made their way up to me had come straight from Mac. "We knew he couldn't be trusted."

  Dad kept going. "Basically, Barone was considering the use of the MicroPharm to medically sterilize woman and men in order to prevent all of the accidents that happen today. According to the report, families desperate for children will continue to pay the stiff penalties levied for having more than one child, and unplanned pregnancies will still happen—coming with them a lifetime cost to the government of around two million dollars—unless they begin using the MicroPharm to control the population.

  "Barone gave the report to Selma and asked her to read it, asked her opinion. When she told him the MicroPharm wasn't created to end lives or control the population, he couldn't believe she'd not seen the benefits of the plan the same way he had. He also couldn't believe she'd stood up to him. She'd never done that before.

  "Even when he suggested she insert the first MicroPharm in our unborn baby's heart, she agreed. Without thinking, she agreed because she believed in her device and his intentions. After reading the report, she fully understood what she'd done, what Barone was capable of. She now believes we've signed our only child's death certificate, giving Barone the perfect means to blackmail us into doing anything he wants. That's what has been the hardest on her." Dad revealed.

  Everything about what I'd learned disgusted me in ways I'd never expected. I'd complained for years about the MicroPharm, but it had never occurred to me that it could be used as a way to manipulate my body in such a malicious way or to blackmail my parents into doing things that were morally or ethically reprehensible for them. Mom had always focused on the good it could do for me. After hearing the MicroPharm separatists concerns and Dad's revelations, I'd become as convinced as the separatists that Barone would use the MicroPharm's ability to administer drugs to control people. To control me.

  "Oh my God, Selma! Surely not even Barone would do that," Elle had insisted.

  Mom had been cold and hard when she replied, "He can, and he will."

  These revelations had been so life-altering that I'd tuned out the rest of their conversation. I'd been entirely too busy thinking about how much I hated Barone and the control he had over me, my body, and my family.

  All because of the damn MicroPharm I had inserted in my heart right after I was born. At his suggestion.

  After that night, I'd begun watching everything closer and noticed there were weekly meetings between my parents and the Coxes. With each meeting, I'd learned a little more about the world my parents had hidden from me. When they weren't having their late-night meetings, my family had worked side by side with the Coxes doing every farm chore known to man.

  During our time together, I'd learned a few things about the Coxes. Some obvious. Others not. First, they were a childless couple who'd inherited the strawberry farm and produce market from their family. It was theirs to use however they wanted. In their eyes, turning traitor, a crime punishable by death, and providing shelter and safe passage to those who were being hunted by the DOA was the best use of their resources.

  Everything about Jayden's unexpected appearance told me that my parents were determined to get Tawney and me away from the farm, the Coxes, and the risks associated with what they were doing. Just like they'd said that night, none of them wanted Surrogate Soldiers (ones other than Jayden) coming here to take us away to the preparatory academy. If Barone's loyal Surrogates found even the first DOA refugee hiding out at the farm, everything they'd worked for would be ruined and every adult in and around the farm would be executed without trial.

  Snapping out of my reverie and following Jayden as he and I sneaked our way out onto the back porch, I asked, "Did Dad
call you to bring me to the academy?"

  The law ordered that I be delivered to the preparatory academy on or before my seventeenth birthday. If I conformed, they'd never come looking. If not, they'd be here within days of my birthday because illness and imminent death were the only reasons one could give in order to get a pass on academy attendance.

  By design, MicroPharm provided the academy's leaders with readings that told them everything they needed when it came to determining if the no-show was sick or on the run. Nothing was left to chance when it came to the Aspect Nation's need to control our every action.

  "Not to the academy, but to a location where the Surrogates will pick you up. One as far away from this farm as possible," Jayden answered over his shoulder.

  As I stepped off the last step of the back porch, my life—my options—became surreal in a way I'd never expected. I have to leave. If I wanted to keep my parents as safe as they could possibly be now that they'd teamed up with the Coxes, I had to travel away from the farm and to the academy. With or without Jayden.

  I stopped and pulled my hand away from Jayden's. It took him a few seconds to realize he'd lost me. When he saw the defiance on my face, he rounded on me.

  "You're coming with me to the barn even if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you. I don't have time to convince you this is the best thing for you and your parents," he said, no longer whispering or trying to be quiet.

  "I-I know. It's just that I forgot the bag I packed," I mumbled.

  "Your mom has a bag for you. She packed everything you need," Jayden assured me.

  "Yeah…" I rolled my eyes. "I can only imagine the things she packed. I knew this was coming. I have a backpack under my bed. It has the things most important to me."

  "You're kiddin' me, right?"

  I shook my head. "No. I'm not. I'm going back to get it. Wait here. I'll be right back."

  Jayden grabbed my arm and pulled me back toward him. "No, princess. I'll go back and get it. Wait right here for me and don't you move."

  "If the Coxes catch you in there, they'll kill you on the spot. It'll be better if I go back," I pleaded.

  Jayden treated what I'd said as a challenge. I may have barely been able to see him within the shadows of the porch, but I was sure his cocky, lopsided grin was back when he glanced between me and the house.

  "You need to have more faith in me. It's been a while, but you should remember if I don't want someone to know I'm there, they won't know I'm there."

  I knew immediately he was referring to all the notes he'd left in my safe room in the middle of the night in order to prove to me that he could get in and out of places without being seen or heard and in order to prove to me that I slept too hard to ever be a good lookout.

  "All right. Go get it. I'll be right here when you get back," I dared, crossing my arms.

  Jayden took off like I'd clicked a stopwatch and was timing him. Again, the dark shadows of the house made it impossible for me to see him, and as always, he was entirely too graceful for me to hear the first sound. I had complete confidence in Jayden, but I still worried. The Coxes were not Surrogate fans. They saw Surrogates as the satanic creation of Barone himself. If they found Jayden in their farmhouse (or anywhere near it), they'd kill him in the same way the DOA would kill a separatist.

  Right before I worked myself up and into enough of a frenzy to go into the house after him, Jayden materialized in front of me. He was wearing a shit-eating grin and holding the backpack up for me to take. I snatched it from him.

  "Took you long enough," I barked.

  "It took a few more minutes than I'd expected because I had to see what you cared enough about to let me risk my life for," Jayden said with a smugness that made my stomach drop.

  If he looked into the pack, he would have found some pretty benign things: my e-reader, which was filled with my favorite books and music; my school computer, which was filled with research papers and math algorithms; a photo album, which was filled with pictures of my family—Jaden; and my journal, which was filled with months and months of documented proof that I'd been thinking entirely too much about him and what he'd been doing without us.

  "You didn't really go through it, did you?" I snapped, color draining from my face.

  "That wouldn't have been the gentlemanly thing to do. Now would it?" Jayden teased.

  I refused to look up at him, but the smirk in his voice was unmistakable. His mischievousness had always been relentless. All I could do at that moment was hope and pray his taunts were nothing more than his attempts at rekindling our bickering… that he'd not gone through the backpack and found proof that I'd missed him terribly.

  I decided the only way to stop this line of bluffing was hard and fast. "Then you'll know the backpack is filled with pads and tampons. I'm going to need them since I'm about to start," I replied with a haughtiness that didn't come naturally to me.

  The bands holding Jayden's smug grin in place snapped. His face fell and his cheeks turned pink. He'd definitely not expected that.

  That'll teach you.

  Deciding not to dwell anymore on what was or was not in my backpack, I took off running, dashing past Jayden and toward the barn that was about a mile away from where we stood. By the time I'd gone a few dozen feet, he caught up to me, slowing his pace so we could run together.

  "You don't have to wait on me," I spat, nodding my forehead in the direction he could run while I followed behind him.

  I knew he'd recovered from the zinger I'd gotten in on him when he said, "Do you exercise at all? It never occurred to me that I could walk faster than you could run. It looks like I'll be getting those back rubs after all."

  The fact that he wasn't even winded reminded me that Surrogates could run for miles before their bodies showed even the first sign of stress.

  Again, I rolled my eyes. " I can't help it if your legs are freakishly long and mine aren't. I run five miles every day. I'm faster and stronger than I was the day you let us leave without you. You'll be reading Tawney's book to me. I won't be giving you back rubs. That much I can promise you," I swore.

  Jayden chuckled. "Now that I can see them, I have to agree. Your legs are pretty short. Do you want me to carry you like I offered earlier? We'd get to the barn quicker."

  "Only if you're up for a throat punch," I murmured, biting back the rest of the hateful words I wanted to fling out at him.

  He's a bigger ass than I remember.

  He laughed again. This time, it was louder and more sincere. "So you do remember some of the things I taught you… just not the importance of running every day and keeping up your stamina."

  "Yes, asshat. I remember perfectly the day you told me the only way a five-and-a-half-foot girl would ever get in the first hit on a six-foot trained soldier would be to land a throat punch and run," I snapped. "And I'm completely prepared to test your theory."

  Squabbling with Jayden brought to light for me the reality that he really was back with me, that he was fine. The relief hit me with an abruptness so unexpected that I couldn't put one more foot in front of another. I came to an immediate stop, and like before, it took Jayden a second or two to realize I was no longer running beside him. When he cursed and turned back, I wished I'd never stopped.

  Because we were no longer hidden within the shadows of darkness, this was the first time in months we'd come face to face with each other, that we'd really, truly seen the other without the filter of shades and shadows. At the sight of him and his magnificence, I took a long, loud gulp.

  Jesus! I forgot how beautiful he is.

  He may still be an ass, but I'm not sure there'd ever been a more perfect Surrogate Soldier created within Aspect's labs. Like me, he used the light from the moon and his unnatural green eyes—the most distinguishing feature of a Surrogate Soldier—to size me up. His Adam's apple moved up and down with his own gulp.

  Finally, he broke the silence. "What the hell are you doing? Do you think this is a joke?" he growled hoarsely
with little sprays of his spit sprinkling my forehead.

  In any other situation, I'd have made a big deal of his flying spittle, but it was the least of my concerns.

  "Do I think this is a joke? Really? Do I think this is a joke?" I laughed, and everything about it was hysterical. Maniacal. "I'm not sure what's going on. No one's told me. We've been gone for six months. There's not been one of those days… No, scratch that. There's not been one of those minutes that I haven't worried about Mom, who is just one step away from the psych ward, and you… you." I poked my finger into his chest. "I've been so worried about you. We've never been apart that long. Didn't it bother you at all?"

  Jayden's entire body softened. The tough Surrogate Soldier took a step toward me and looked like he wanted to pull me into his arms for another hug. The problem for me was the fact that he didn't say anything. He didn't admit that he'd missed me at all, and that hurt me in ways I'd not expected. I stepped backward and away from him and kept rambling.

  "Tonight, my mother woke me in the middle of the night and told me to get dressed and meet her in the barn. Since you know so much more than me, you can fill in the blanks. Why are we going to the barn and why are you, one of President Barone's most trusted Surrogates, here, the last place on the planet you should be?" I asked loud enough to scare the night crickets into complete and utter silence.

  Jayden's jaw clenched and his teeth ground. Whatever relief he'd felt over seeing me earlier had vanished. His voice might not have been as loud as mine, but it was one that commanded attention.

  "I don't need to explain myself to you. Your father trusts me. That. Is. All. That. Matters," he said, and his last individually uttered words were deadly serious.

  I glanced to the side. Toward the direction of the barn. My eyes slitted tighter. "How often have you and Dad been talking?"

 

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