“My life is less important than that of the well-being of society, is it not? In fact, my life becomes completely useless to all twelve of the Regions if I cannot produce children. But go ahead, check with your superiors and see what they say. I guarantee you they won’t advise taking me off the pills.” I settle back against the pillows and accept the glass Gwen holds out to me. As far as I’m concerned the conversation is over. The Regions would never so much as allow a leave of absence. They’ll expect me to be back on my feet and fulfilling my duties in less than a week.
Doctor Hunley considers me for a moment, a deep frown on her already worn face. “As my patient, you are my absolute priority, Mr. Donahue. Your health takes priority over any agenda the Statehouse may have. I will speak to them.”
She leaves the room before I can reply and I decide that I like her.
“You take pills to…” Gwen’s voice cuts through my thoughts. She’s been so quiet I’d almost forgotten she was here.
“Yes,” I say.
“With me…?” She’s standing stiffly in front of my bed, and I get the feeling we’re in a showdown.
“With everyone,” I tell her.
She’s pressing her lips together so firmly it looks like she wants to be sick.
“Of course,” she says, finally. “Of course.” She looks over her shoulder then quickly back at me. “They’re bringing you dinner. I’ll be back to check on you in a while. There’s also something I need to talk to you about—” She’s cut off when the door opens and a nurse wheels in a cart. It looks like she wants to say more, but she clears out of the nurse’s way, wringing her hands near the door before she calls out “Later” and darts out of the room.
Later that evening I hear a commotion in the hallway outside my door. There is the crash of metal hitting the ground and then the door bursts open, followed by the booming of a familiar voice.
“Folsom, you son of a bitch. I’m out there working my ass off and you’re lying around on vacation.” Jackal strides into the room, his imposing presence immediately making me sit up in bed. A smile breaks over his face when he sees me and I think he’s going to hug me when Gwen charges into the room behind him.
“Don’t you dare!” she says.
He turns around suddenly, looking half-shocked and half-amused by the commanding tone in her voice.
“Tiny woman!” he says. “Are you this man’s bodyguard?”
Gwen looks around the room like she can’t tell if this is really happening. I smile from where I’m watching them and wait to see what she’ll do.
“He’s just had a massive heart attack…” She takes a step toward him and Jackal backs up. “If you stress him out, touch him, or upset him in any way I will throw you out of here myself.”
“Noted,” he says, this time more subdued. When she leaves the room, he turns to face me, an evil grin on his face.
“You fucked that one, didn’t you?”
“Why are you here?” I ask.
Jackal, used to my bluntness, takes a seat in the chair beside my bed. He makes a face like he can’t believe I’m asking that.
“Foley, you almost died.” Jackal runs a hand across the stubble on his face, suddenly looking very tired. He must have jumped on the jet right away when he heard.
“You’re my best friend,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I be here?”
I raise my eyebrows. He’s never used the words best friend before. When you are an End Man, you learn to not put labels on things. You will never have a girlfriend, or a wife, or be around somewhere long enough to make friends.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I say, honestly. “Do they know you’re here or did you jailbreak?”
His smile answers my question, and I laugh. Typical Jackal with no regard for the rules.
He suddenly grows serious. “I spoke to Kasper on the ride over,” he says quietly. “He wanted you to know something.”
I narrow my eyes. Kasper is the third End Man, joining just a year after me at barely nineteen. We’ve never seen eye-to-eye on issues and tend to stay out of each other’s way. There’s something about him that I don’t like.
“He’s in the Black Region right now,” Jackal said. He closes one eye and makes a face at me.
“What is it, Jackal? Just fucking say it.”
“He came across some information. Look man, I don’t know how to tell you this, but they took Laticus. They have him.”
“They have him where?” I bolt upright in bed and the sudden movement causes the machines behind me to go crazy. I’m forced to stop talking when three nurses come pounding into the room, panic in their eyes. Jackal keeps eye contact with me while they check my vitals, quizzing me on what happened. As soon as they’re gone, Gwen walks into the room, eyeing Jackal suspiciously.
“What happened?” she snaps.
Jackal smiles at her when he shrugs.
She lifts her chin defiantly when she looks at me and says, “I’ve been told that I have to stay in the room for the duration of your visit,” she says. “It appears Mr. Emerson didn’t let anyone know he was leaving the Green Region.” She glares at Jackal who winks at her. “His exit has caused quite a stir. The Statehouse has contacted us, and we’ve let them know he’s here.”
“You can say the rest of what you need to say in front of Gwen.”
Jackal turns his body back to face me, and I see Gwen’s face tighten over his shoulder.
“We don’t know where they’ve taken him. But, Folsom, there are only two Genome Y labs on the continent and you’re lying in one of them.”
TWELVE
GWEN
“Laticus,” I say. Both of their heads swivel toward me, and I can’t believe I blurted that out. I could be fired. Corinne distinctly said it was to remain a secret that he was here.
“He’s here?” There’s bite in his voice and I shrivel back, desperately wanting to rewind time by thirty seconds. Stupid, stupid Gwen.
Folsom starts trying to undo all the leads that connect him to the various machines. I rush forward, holding his hands down.
“No,” I say firmly, looking into his eyes. He stills and I feel mildly victorious. The furious protectiveness I feel over him has consumed me since I saw him lying in this bed.
I get right in his face, so close that our foreheads touch. “You don’t want to set off the alarm again. Breathe. Okay? Just breathe. I’ll tell you what I know—which isn’t much at the moment.”
He blinks and gives a slight nod, settling back into the bed, though his shoulders are tense like two invisible cords are holding them rigid. I stare at the peppery stubble on his jaw, tiny daggers that turn to smooth skin on his neck. What to say, and how much?
“Can I trust you?” I ask, my hands still clamping down on his.
“No,” he says.
Jackal laughs and I throw a scowl his way. That man is entirely too pretty for his own good.
“I wish I knew more, but it’s what I wanted to tell you earlier. He’s here,” I say quietly. “They wanted to test him, evaluate his health, but he fell asleep, so someone is assigned to do it later. I’ve been a little…tied up with seeing about you. When your alarm went off…” I flush and hope he doesn’t notice. From the sound of Jackal, it doesn’t get past him. “And then I was assigned to watch over this twit.” I point my thumb toward Jackal.
“Is he…okay?”
“He seemed…scared,” I tell him honestly. “But he’s been through a lot. We’ll take care of him. I will,” I say, resolute.
His face doesn’t relax; he actually looks more worried than he did a minute ago.
“He’s only fifteen, Gwen.”
In the Regions, eighteen is considered an adult, and some families give their daughters over to the End Men at sixteen, the chances of pregnancy seen as higher the younger you are, but the men have all been at least eighteen. Men have to earn their place in the world, but this is much too soon.
“I understand,” I assure him.
“Is
his mother with him?”
“She was not complicit with him coming here,” I say quietly. I still haven’t come to grips with what that means. Was the boy really kidnapped? “From what I’ve surmised, he was taken without her permission.”
Folsom’s eyes fly to Jackal’s, the alarm in them making me take a step back.
“Find her,” Folsom tells Jackal. “Let her know…” His voice cuts off and he looks tormented. He turns to me. “Go be with him, Gwen. Please. Make sure they don’t…” He tries to sit up again and I put my hand on his arm. He gives up and leans into the pillows, his face dark.
I clasp his hand in mine and squeeze. “I’ll take care of him. You just worry about getting well.”
I walk toward the door and Jackal follows behind me.
“Thank you,” he says when we’re out of earshot. “For helping him. He’s a good man. The best man I know.”
“You only know eleven,” I smart off.
A smile breaks out across his face. “That’s ten more than you, smart ass.”
I narrow my eyes at him, shaking my head. “Will you try to contact the boy’s mother?”
He looks away distractedly. “Yes. I’ll find her.”
“Good,” I say, thinking about how awful it would be to give birth to a child and then have him ripped from your life. Absently I touch my belly and Jackal notices the motion.
“We don’t belong to each other anymore,” he says. “Be careful what you wish for.” And then he’s gone, striding down the hall away from me. I sincerely hope he can find her.
There’s a flurry of doctors and attendants outside the domes, reading over the graphs and studying the screens for minute-by-minute updates on the two patients. I walk briskly past as they’re consumed by their data.
I move to the Silverbooks that suspend in every central area and select Hamari. Her face fills the screen, looking harried.
“Are you busy?” I ask.
“Are you kidding?” she says. “We have two men in the building…”
“Right,” I say. “I need all of the printouts you’ve collected for Laticus so far.”
“Sure,” she says. “I’ll have them on your desk in ten.”
“Thanks.” I release the button and hurry back to dome five. Corinne is standing outside Laticus’ door. She sees me walking toward her and stands straighter, hands moving to her hips.
“Where’s Mr. Emerson?”
“He’s left the building,” I tell her. “I’d like to take over the patient’s care.”
Corinne nods. At times like this, it’s helpful being the boss’s pet.
“Fine,” she says. “I trust you the most anyway.”
I feel a pang of guilt at her words. I have every intention of breaking her trust and taking information about the boy back to his father.
“May as well get a start before this afternoon’s filing is due.” She hands me his file and I tuck it under my arm.
Since my promotion a few months ago, every afternoon at two and five, I conduct an extensive report for every test run in Genome Y. Some days it takes fifteen minutes at the most. Days like today have never happened since I began working here, so I can’t imagine how long the report will take today.
“You go do what you need to do,” I tell her. “I’ve got this.”
“We still have a few labs to do on him, and so far we’ve been unsuccessful in getting a sperm sample…”
I struggle to not let my eyes widen. “Okay…how do you want me to—”
“You hand him a dirty magazine and get him to ejaculate into a cup,” she says quickly.
“Got it.”
“I’m just going to remind you that everything we find in the tests is classified. The only ones privy to this information are the doctors on the case, you, me, and the few designated in the Society. No one else can know the contents, including the patients themselves. Laticus is asking a lot of questions, if you could just put his mind at ease. You’re good at peopleing.” She opens his door and I follow her in, mouthing “peopleing?”
I am absolutely not good at peopleing. I hide from most people.
Laticus is watching the Silverbook hovering high on the wall across from him, and when I hear Folsom’s voice, I follow the sound. It’s live footage of the party last night and Folsom says “brilliant” before picking the lottery number. Another shot flashes across the screen of Folsom getting his picture taken with a group of women. I see Sophia in the background and inwardly groan. She’s going to be furious with me for avoiding her all day.
Laticus glances over at me with an expression of boredom and fear. I try to look comforting and safe, but I probably look more manic than anything. There’s no reason he should trust me.
“Hi, Laticus.” I flinch at the sound of my voice, so unsure. I clear my throat and force my next words to sound more confident. “I’m Gwen,” I say. “I’m here to make sure you’re comfortable.” He just stares at me so I continue. “Have you eaten? Are you hungry?”
He shakes his head.
“I’m hungry,” I say. And it’s true. I realize I haven’t eaten at all today. “I’ll just order something up in case.” I pull out my Silverbook and send a message to the cafeteria. Assuming teenage boys eat the same things we do, I order half a dozen dishes and then switch the Silverbook to idle.
“Your father…?” I ask, nodding toward the Silverbook on the wall. He nods.
“I’ve never met him.” Those are the first words he says to me and I sigh, relieved we are on speaking terms.
“I have,” I say brightly.
Laticus sits up straighter in his chair, his eyes suddenly interested. “Is he here? I saw about the…”
“Yes, he’s here. He’s doing okay,” I reassure him.
He settles back down, returning his eyes to the screen.
“What’s he like?”
I study his face and am struck by how similar his facial structure and eyes are to Folsom’s. His hair is lighter and he’s not as muscular, but he looks how Folsom must have looked at his age.
“Well, the two of you favor one another a lot,” I say quietly. “Mind if I sit?” I motion to the chair next to the bed.
“Please,” he says, his curiosity chipping away at his reservation.
“From what I’ve seen, he’s dedicated to helping the Regions to the best of his ability, even if it means he suffers in the process.” I shake my head, as it registers how awful he must have been feeling yesterday, even when we were together, to have had such a massive heart attack by last night. “He’s serious, even though he’s capable of teasing.” I grin and Laticus grins back faintly. “And he’s kind.”
“Is he tall?” he asks.
“At least 6'3" maybe more.” I nod.
“There’s hope for me to get there still then.” He smirks and I swear it’s like Folsom all over again.
I groan. “The girls are going to love you.”
“Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?” he says, just as there’s a knock on the door.
Vera pushes a cart filled with trays and starts unloading it on the table. “I might have to leave the cart here. There’s not enough room on the table for all of this food!” She lowers her eyelashes at Laticus and smiles shyly, while I move closer to him, folding my arms over my chest. I dare her to flirt with him on my watch.
“Thank you, Vera. We’ll take it from here,” I tell her.
I uncover the trays and Laticus’ eyes grow wide when he sees the array of seafood, baked potatoes, two salads, fruit, and an assortment of desserts.
“Anything look good?” I ask.
He laughs. “Uh, yeah.” He reaches for the lobster tail and takes a bite, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Oh my God, what is this?”
“Lobster? Have you never had it?”
“Never. It’s so good.” He then stuffs five pieces in his mouth at once.
I laugh at him. “I take it you were hungry.”
“Always.” He motions to the shrimp.
“Is it okay if I eat that too?”
“You can have all you want. I’ll just take this baked potato and salad. Have at it.”
“When can I meet my father?” he asks, mouth full.
I spend extra time chewing while I try to think of how to answer him. “Well, technically, you’re not really supposed to know he’s here, and vice versa, but I couldn’t lie to you when you asked.”
“Oh. Does he know I’m here?”
“Yes, he does,” I say quietly.
“Is he dying?” He sets the fork down and wipes his face with the napkin, his eyes searching mine.
“He’s in critical condition, but I have every hope he will recover. Just trying to keep him relaxed and—”
“I have to see him,” he says. “I can’t believe we’re in the same place. I’ve always wanted—”
Corinne knocks then peers through the door. “Got that sample yet?” she asks.
“He’s eating. We’ll get to that after he’s done,” I tell her.
She nods and backs out of the room.
“What’s that about?”
I look at the ceiling and hate my life right about now. “I’ll work out a way for you to see your father, I give you my word. I’m sorry for how awkward this is, but…as soon as you’re done eating, I need to collect a sperm sample from you.” I point to the magazines on the table next to him. “If those aren’t satisfactory, let me know. I can get more.”
His cheeks darken and he looks down at his empty plate. He points to the brownie covered with ice cream and hot fudge. “Is it okay if I eat that first?”
I feel a pang in my chest and want to cry. He’s just a baby.
THIRTEEN
FOLSOM
The days drag by, molasses days. They need me to heal, but they constantly prod me about how I feel like I have the ability to speed up the process on my own. The Society is not pleased. Good fucking days gone to waste.
“They are, of course, deeply concerned about you, Folsom,” Robin says, and I want to laugh. “It’s just that you only have a year here and you’re already behind schedule.”
Folsom (The End of Men Book 1) Page 7
