The Gene Rift (Destiny by Design Book 2)

by J. Andersen

  My first time in Arcanus, I wondered what life had in store for me and Micah. This time, I still wonder what my future holds, but now I know that what’s yet to come is in my own hands. It’s what I make of it. No more being controlled by anyone else.

  Despite what Saul says about taking Brody, I know we’ll figure out a way to stop him. Maybe it’s because Micah is here with me now, but I can’t help but have hope.

  Minutes later, we reach the end of the passageway, and again Micah does the honors to open up the doors to Arcanus. As soon as it’s wide enough, we rush through, back to our homes, safe and sound. All except Micah. He keeps his hand in mine, following me.

  We’re barely to the door of Ally and Hunter’s place when she comes running out and jumps into Hunter’s arms. He spins her around and kisses her cheek before setting her feet back on the ground.

  “I was so worried about you.” Then she pulls back and looks at Micah. It’s mere seconds before tears flood her eyes, and she pulls him into a hug.

  He cringes. “Careful.”

  “Sorry,” she whispers, but it’s loud enough for me to hear. “You were so stupid, you know that! You could have gotten yourself killed.”

  “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

  “Come on inside and get settled. Now that you’re back for good, we’ll have to find you a permanent place to stay. Until then, you can shack up in the guest room.”

  Inside, Micah heads straight for the shower. I, on the other hand, go find my son.

  The shower is still running as I check on Brody. Ally has him in a small play area in the corner of the living room, propped up with blankets. Benjamin sits beside him, playfully slapping his own tummy with tiny fingers.

  The sight of my son soothes me. I know everything will be all right, and I can officially begin my life here in Arcanus, the way it should have been four months ago. With Micah.

  “Hey, little man,” I say, taking him in my arms. He looks at me with big brown eyes and smiles a gummy grin. “What’s that? Did you smile at Mommy?” His toothless grin spreads over his face again. “You did! Yes, you did. I love to see you smile. I see Ally took good care of you while I was gone.” We walk back to my bedroom as I shower him with kisses. “How would you like to meet Micah? Remember Micah? He helped me bring you here safe and sound, you know.” Okay, so safe and sound is a relative phrase.

  Holding Brody in one arm, I knock on the bathroom door. The water has stopped, but noises from the other side tell me Micah’s still finishing up in there.

  “Just a minute,” he calls.

  “I brought someone to meet you.”

  The door opens, and he’s standing in a towel, jet black hair dripping water onto his shoulders. I’m speechless as a few drops trickle down his chest. Fading bruises cover his torso but don’t hide the muscles cut into his arms and chest. Tucked in at his waist, the towel barely wraps around him, revealing a beautiful body. And I don’t remember his abs ever looking like that.

  When my stare reaches his face, his eyes sparkle, and his smile is filled with mischief. Despite the bruises that will take a while to heal, he looks good.

  “I—I … You … you look better. I mean, like you’re feeling better.”

  “Not much to do in prison between being tortured, so I worked out as best I could if they let me heal enough in between, that is. Helped me keep my sanity. And the food is scarce for prisoners like me, so I lost a few.” He pats his stomach.

  “I see that.” I look him over one more time. There are a few patches of flesh that are still discolored and obviously tender from the beatings he took, but overall, he looks better.

  “I feel better, too. Thanks to you.” When his fingers touch my cheek, I’m brought back five months in time when I could see him and touch him whenever I wanted. Now he’s here in front of me.

  A few silent moments pass before he looks at the wriggling baby in my arms. “Who do we have here?” He takes Brody from me and moves into my room. “So, you’re the one who’s caused me all this trouble, huh?” Kissing Brody’s head, Micah looks at me, “I’d do it all again for you and your mom.”

  From across the room, I wait, watching him be … whatever he’s going to be to Brody. Father? Friend? Uncle? I don’t know. But whatever it is, it’ll be just what Brody needs. It’s odd, knowing how young we both are, yet he’s willing to take responsibility for someone else’s child. I should tell him, let him know who Brody’s father is, but something holds me back.

  As Micah watches me, I take in the scene again. Micah … home. Holding my son. It’s perfect. Just like it should be. But suddenly his features blur and pull back into focus again.

  Rubbing my eyes, I look at the two of them. His face goes fuzzy again. And when he says, “Kate, are you okay?” I can barely hear him through the fog that’s covering my head. I’m hot and sweaty and cold all at the same time, and after I wipe the sweat from my forehead, I have to lean against the wall to keep from collapsing.

  “Kate?”

  I’m numb, but I sense my body sliding down the wall to the floor. I clench my eyes shut because if I keep them open, I know I’ll throw up.

  “Kate? Kate!” His voice is distant, drowned out by the cries of a baby somewhere near. “Ally. Hunter. Get in here!”

  I open my eyes for a moment. I see him, but not clearly. “Micah, I don’t feel well.” My muscles are limp, and I can’t lift my arms. I’m only semi-conscious when he picks me up and transports me to something soft. The bed.

  “Kate. Look at me.”

  There are hands on my cheeks, guiding my head. And I try, I really try, but my eyes won’t focus. It hurts to open them.

  “It’s gonna be okay, Kate. You hear me? You’re gonna be okay. Stay with me. Kate! You stay with me.”

  I’m pretty sure that’s what I said to him only hours ago. As he calls to me, his voice fades until I can’t hear him anymore. He’s farther and farther away, and his face is darkening, shrinking into a gray mass. Some-thing in my head pops and pain shoots through the back of my skull and neck. “Ahhhh!” I grasp my head in my hands. Putting pressure against it eases the pain for a moment. That’s when I hear it. Loud and clear.

  “Katie-did? Can you hear me?”

  It’s my father’s voice.

  Then everything goes black.

  TWENTY FOUR

  RELATIVELY IMPOSSIBLE

  (MICAH)

  Jaxon, Jessica, Ally, Hunter, Silas, Dr. Bartholomew, and I surround Kate when she wakes up. “Welcome back, Katherine,” the doctor says.

  “What happened?” She looks a bit groggy, and the way she squints her eyes makes me think her headache hasn’t gone away.

  Her hand feels cold in mine, so I gently rub her skin. “You collapsed in your bedroom. We brought you here when we couldn’t arouse you. The doctors have spent the last few days running tests.”

  “Did you say days?” Her panic-stricken eyes shift from one of us to the next.

  Dr. Bartholomew motions for us to move back. “Katherine, you’ve been here for four days. During that time, we’ve run all sorts of tests.” He looks to the crowd of friends behind him and speaks in an ominous tone. “If you could excuse us, I’d like to talk with Kate in private.” She tugs at my arms as I rise to leave. “Micah stays,” she says.

  “Very well then.” The doctor sits on the edge of her bed as the rest filter out into the hall. Not a good sign. Whatever he’s discovered, it’s bad news. “Micah, would you please shut the door?”

  From the moment I let go of her hand till I’m holding it again, the panicked expression remains. Like if she blinks, I’ll disappear. She’s been so strong up until now. Joining the rest of the rebels on my rescue mission that could have easily ended poorly, escaping The Institute with Brody, and adapting to live in Arcanus didn’t faze her. But a short hospital stay has her frantic? I don’t get it.

  There has to be something more. What are we missing?

  As soon as I’m back by Kate’s side, th
e doctor continues. “The tests ruled out any medical condition, so the only thing we can figure is it’s—”

  “Because of my chip,” Kate finishes.

  “You knew?” I ask.

  “I suspected.” She rubs the back of her neck with one hand.

  The doctor continues. “In The Institute, advancements are programmed into the chip at certain intervals. Age five, age ten …”

  “Age eighteen,” she says.

  “You’re due for an upgrade.”

  “But I don’t turn eighteen for another month.”

  “It’s not an exact science. Not yet, anyway. The dizzy spells and blackouts are just the first symptoms. They’re meant to inform you that an upgrade is due.”

  “But we don’t have the technology here to upgrade her chip, do we?”

  I ask.

  “No.”

  “Can you remove it?” It’s a simple question, but my words upset Kate.

  She breathes in and exhales slowly through quivering lips. Her eyes meet mine, and I give her a nod of encouragement.

  “Removing it is … tricky to say the least.”

  “Why? You said mine would be a cinch to remove. What’s the difference?” I finger the scar on the back of my neck and flinch at my own touch. The incision is still sore.

  “It’s not that simple. Your implant is fresh. While it’s healing, no nerves or muscles have embedded themselves around the chip yet. With Katherine, it’s different. It’s been in her body since birth. The muscles and nerves have fused around it. Taking it out could possibly be fatal.”

  “There has to be a safe way to remove it.”

  “None that we know of. Not without taking her back to The Institute. We all know how that would turn out.”

  Kate rests her hand on my arm to calm me. “Micah, I don’t want to take it out.”

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. She’s got to be crazy. That chip is deteriorating faster than we thought. I search her face for any sign that she’s kidding, but I don’t find one.

  “Keeping it in will kill you.”

  Her jaw flexes. “So could taking it out.”

  “Kate, it’s a guaranteed death sentence if we don’t at least try.” This isn’t happening. She can’t possibly be choosing this, not after she just risked her life to save mine. I will not let this happen.

  “Micah …” She squeezes my hand. “I can’t chance it. Not yet.”

  “What do you mean, ‘not yet’?”

  Dr. Bartholomew stands. “Why don’t I give you two a few minutes?” He accepts my silent thank you and backs out of the room, closing the door behind him. When it clicks shut, I flop down on the edge of her bed. She scoots over to give me room.

  “The other night, right before I passed out, I heard my father’s voice.”

  “What are you talking about? ‘Your father’s voice’?”

  “He called my name. He tried to contact me.”

  The chip must be making her hallucinate. “Kate, do you hear yourself? How is that even possible? You couldn’t have heard your dad. It’s the deterioration of the chip.”

  “No. I know it sounds crazy, but I think my dad’s trying to get a message to me. Call it a gut feeling. I won’t make a decision regarding my chip until I know for sure what’s going on.”

  “You’re really serious?” I ask.

  The way she’s set her jaw answers my question. I’m silent for a moment. What can I say that would possibly change her mind? More than anything, I want to tell her about her father. But if she knew his role in my imprisonment, it would devastate her. And I’m not sure what the information would do to her health right now. But at the same time, she needs to know the truth. I can’t have her trusting him when he’s the enemy. There’s no telling what his agenda is or what he’s willing to do for The Institute.

  Deep breath. “There’s no changing your mind?” I mumble.

  “Nope.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She gives me a look.

  “Okay then. What do we do?”

  Kate shakes her head. “Not sure. I guess we wait for my father to contact me and hope I don’t have another episode before then.”

  “You’re sure it was your dad? He’s not exactly the guy you remember.” I regret the words as soon as I say them. But it’s too late now.

  She furrows her eyebrows. “What do you mean? What do you know about my dad?”

  This isn’t how I want to tell her, but I know she won’t stop until I do. “He’s not who you think he is, Kate. Not anymore.”

  “I don’t understand.” She pulls her hand out of mine and tugs at the neck of her hospital gown. Her eyes try to hold my gaze steady, but they scan frantically around the room.

  This is exactly what I was afraid might happen. “Kate, you don’t need to—”

  “Tell me, Micah.” That frantic look creeps back over her face. “Tell me. I can handle it.”

  My mouth opens to speak, but nothing comes out.

  The veins in her temple bulge with her widening pupils. “Now, Mic—”

  “—He questioned me. When I was in that prison, he was the one who interrogated me.”

  “What?” Her hands clamp over her mouth.

  “He works in the Data Collection Agency, Kate. He was assigned to program MIHs. My MIH. He’s in charge of brainwashing the state’s enemies. Of brainwashing me. They wanted me to come out of that surgery a robot just like the rest of them.”

  “That’s not right. It’s not possible. I’m his daughter. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. He loves me.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be the one to tell you, but it’s the truth. He questioned me. He programmed my MIH. And he’s waiting to turn it on. But that doesn’t matter right now. I’m home. And so far, I haven’t had any questionable thoughts running through my head. If you believe he’s trying to get a message to you, then we’ll figure it out. The rest we’ll leave for later.”

  “But nothing’s happened to you yet, right?” She shakes at my admission.

  “Hey …” I take her in my arms. “I’m fine. It’s going to be okay. You hear me?”

  She nods her head, but the tears on her cheeks soak through the fabric of my shirt.

  “We’re going to be all right.”

  As if it knows, the bump on the back of my neck starts to itch.

  TWENTY FIVE

  HOW MUCH MORE CAN ONE GIRL HANDLE?

  (KATE)

  The doctor released me with strict instructions that if I feel the least bit dizzy, I’m to return to the hospital immediately. Micah assured him he’d never leave my side and would see to my medical care. So since the day we left the hospital, he’s been hovering. That was two weeks ago.

  We’re sitting at Ally’s breakfast table, simultaneously poking our eggs. Whenever he thinks I’m not looking, he glances sidelong at me. After the third time, I set my fork down, clinking it against the ceramic plate in front of me.

  “Okay, look … I appreciate you wanting to make sure I’m okay, and I love that you’re looking after my every need, but if you keep hovering, I might have to slap you. I’m supposed to be the one worrying about you.” It’s a joke, but part of me is very serious.

  “You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’m not going anywhere.” There’s a long, awkward pause while I decide whether to respond to his comment. I decide to ignore it. “Jessica wants me to meet her at the bookshop. You trust her to take care of me, right? Besides, when you weren’t around, I managed just fine.”

  He cringes slightly, and I realize my words were a slap in the face.

  “That was before you started having symptoms,” he says.

  “Not true. I had a dizzy spell the night we brought Saul to the elders to make a deal to get you out.” Oops. He wasn’t supposed to know about that. His smooth blue eyes turn stormy and his jaw clenches. My shoulders drop as I explain. “Okay, I should have told you about that. I will.” I pause. “In excruciating detail. Promise.
But right now, I need some air. If you have a problem with that, take it up with Jessica. I’m meeting her in a few minutes at Silas’s place. You can spend the after-noon resting and tending to those bruises.”

  “My bruises are fine. Healing.” He places his fork gently on his plate and folds his hands above the table. “Has your father contacted you? Through your chip, I mean.”

  I shake my head. “Not since that first time. Keep waiting. I’m sure he will.”

  Taking the dishes to the sink must be his way of gaining a moment to process what I’ve said. Hearing from my father through the chip in my head must have him totally freaked out, and he probably wonders what to expect when they activate his chip or if he’ll start hearing voices, too. Either that or he’s wondering if I’m losing my mind tiny bits at a time.

  Turning back toward me, he leans cross-armed against the sink and studies me with concern.

  “Micah, you’ve got to stop this. There’s nothing we can do but wait, and until something else happens, I’m not going to live in fear of the unknown. I’m going to live my life the best I know how. Isn’t that what Arcanus is all about?”

  Finally, he smiles and loosens his stance. I go to him, and he pulls my forehead to his lips for a kiss. “Fine,” he says when I pull away. “I’ll watch Brody for you. Guess I could use some male-bonding my-self. We’ll go house hunting. Staying with Ally and Hunter is a little crowded.”

  He smiles as he picks up my son. When I see him take Brody into his arms, it’s hard not to think of him as Brody’s father. But he isn’t.

  And the man who is isn’t exactly my favorite person in the world. I cringe at the thought of telling Micah about Saul. The way Micah cradles Brody in a hug causes my belly to clench as the urge to tell him the truth wells up in my gut. Ready to blurt out the information, my lips open, but clamp shut just as quickly. Right now is not the time to drop a bomb like that, so I smile, kiss Brody on my way out and promise myself to tell Micah the whole truth the first chance I get.

  ****

  I grab my bag and head down the street to the shop where Silas lurks behind the counter.