Earthbound
Page 21
She pauses, listening, for a long time while I assume Elizabeth is talking. As the seconds tick by, I start to sweat, wondering what in the world Elizabeth is telling her now. Finally Reese makes an affirmative noise, then says, “If it really is him, then she must be—” Her feet stop. “Liz, do you think she’s too damaged to resurge?”
I swallow, hating the word damaged coming from Reese’s lips, no matter how frequently I apply it to myself.
Reese sighs. “I wish I shared your confidence. But then, you’ve observed her much more closely than she ever lets me. Thank the gods for you or we wouldn’t know anything.” She changes position now, one hand resting on a jutted hip. A power position. “The triangle changes everything. He knows something. What are the chances he’s a Reduciate? Oh forget it; anything higher than zero is bad news. No, no, I think trying tonight is hurrying too much. Especially when we’re so close. Might be so close.”
Not tonight. Not for whatever it is that they want to do to me. Is relief the right thing to feel in the face of all this?
“I’ll move my trip up; I don’t think I can get out today without the higher-ups finding out, but I can swing tomorrow, assuming the sketch matches our descriptions.” Reese murmurs several affirmative noises before taking a shaky breath. “We have to watch her carefully. If she figures it out on her own, best-case scenario we lose her. Worse case, it damages her beyond use.”
Damages me?
“I hope so,” Reese says after another long pause. Her voice carries a melancholy I can’t reconcile with the content of the conversation. “We can’t hide her forever. I’m already worried. My sources are giving me mixed messages. That usually means they’ve found something and are trying to hide it. We all know what happens when they start circling,” she adds, and though I can’t say why, a tremor of fear shoots down my spine. “We can probably keep her alive for at least another week, but after that … all bets are off.”
Keep me alive? I can’t breathe. It’s like taking one hard punch after another. Darkness scrabbles at the edges of my vision and I want to throw up and black out all at once.
Reese turns, heading back to the kitchen, and I try to curl up smaller—draw even deeper into the shadows.
“Just pray this Phoenix connection is legit. I have zero leads if it’s not, and we’ll have to proceed on our own. And that probably means running.” She sighs. “I hate running. Yeah, I know; one step at a time. I’ll be there soon.”
I hear the beep of the phone disconnecting, then the familiar sounds of Reese pulling on a coat, grabbing her jingly keys, the hum of the garage door opening.
I throw myself away from the wall and crouch by the window, parting the blinds just enough to watch Reese’s car slip down the street.
Once she’s out of sight, I count to ten, slowly, then flee from the house, half running down the sidewalk, momentum fueling my gait until I have to slow down, clutching an ache in my side. My breath comes in ragged gasps and all thoughts of hunger have flown from my mind.
I look around, unsure for a few moments of where I am. My mind tries to sort through the conversation I just heard, but nothing makes sense; everything is wrong. So very wrong. I don’t know what to think and all I really want to do is sink to the ground and cry.
The words I heard ring through my head over and over, but the more I consider them, the less sense they make. Why would Quinn have anything to do with my past? I would remember if I’d met him before.
Wouldn’t I?
My memories were pretty patchy right after surgery, but they’ve been mostly whole for months now. Surely I wouldn’t forget him. Not with the way he affects me.
Unless that’s why he affects me.
But why would the triangles change anything? They’re just weird glowing things. I want to groan out loud. Why did I have to tell Elizabeth about them? Stupid!
I’m walking without any sense of direction and hardly see the other people on the sidewalk as I pass. I don’t know what to do. Betrayal is an icy spike through my chest; I’m more alone than ever with no idea who I can trust.
It was always Elizabeth.
Now there’s no one.
Only myself.
And Benson.
My phone is in my hand before I can reconsider, a toneless ringing trilling in my ear. “Please answer, please answer,” I whisper as three rings sound, then four.
“Tave?”
“Benson.” I look in both directions before whispering, “Can you come get me? I’m in trouble.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Benson parks against the curb in front of his off-campus house and by the time he gets around to my door, I’m already out and shifting from foot to foot, anxious to get inside. “You okay?” he asks, his hands softly rubbing up and down my arms. It’s the first thing he’s said since picking me up.
It was a little awkward—should I have greeted him with a kiss? Are we pretending last night never happened? I don’t even know.
So I said nothing.
Did nothing.
“Yeah. No,” I mumble. What was the question? “Can we go inside?”
Benson opens the door and beckons me in. There are a half a dozen guys lounging in the great room; three are playing some sort of video game in front of a humongous television and one in a chair near the front window looks at me with a flirtatious grin.
“New girlfriend?” he asks, addressing the question to Benson, though his eyes never leave my face.
I swallow, hating the word damaged coming from Reese’s lips, no matter how frequently I apply it to myself.
Reese sighs. “I wish I shared your confidence. But then, you’ve observed her much more closely than she ever lets me. Thank the gods for you or we wouldn’t know anything.” She changes position now, one hand resting on a jutted hip. A power position. “The triangle changes everything. He knows something. What are the chances he’s a Reduciate? Oh forget it; anything higher than zero is bad news. No, no, I think trying tonight is hurrying too much. Especially when we’re so close. Might be so close.”
Not tonight. Not for whatever it is that they want to do to me. Is relief the right thing to feel in the face of all this?
“I’ll move my trip up; I don’t think I can get out today without the higher-ups finding out, but I can swing tomorrow, assuming the sketch matches our descriptions.” Reese murmurs several affirmative noises before taking a shaky breath. “We have to watch her carefully. If she figures it out on her own, best-case scenario we lose her. Worse case, it damages her beyond use.”
Damages me?
“I hope so,” Reese says after another long pause. Her voice carries a melancholy I can’t reconcile with the content of the conversation. “We can’t hide her forever. I’m already worried. My sources are giving me mixed messages. That usually means they’ve found something and are trying to hide it. We all know what happens when they start circling,” she adds, and though I can’t say why, a tremor of fear shoots down my spine. “We can probably keep her alive for at least another week, but after that … all bets are off.”
Keep me alive? I can’t breathe. It’s like taking one hard punch after another. Darkness scrabbles at the edges of my vision and I want to throw up and black out all at once.
Reese turns, heading back to the kitchen, and I try to curl up smaller—draw even deeper into the shadows.
“Just pray this Phoenix connection is legit. I have zero leads if it’s not, and we’ll have to proceed on our own. And that probably means running.” She sighs. “I hate running. Yeah, I know; one step at a time. I’ll be there soon.”
I hear the beep of the phone disconnecting, then the familiar sounds of Reese pulling on a coat, grabbing her jingly keys, the hum of the garage door opening.
I throw myself away from the wall and crouch by the window, parting the blinds just enough to watch Reese’s car slip down the street.
Once she’s out of sight, I count to ten, slowly, then flee from the house, half running down the sidewalk, momentum fueling my gait until I have to slow down, clutching an ache in my side. My breath comes in ragged gasps and all thoughts of hunger have flown from my mind.
I look around, unsure for a few moments of where I am. My mind tries to sort through the conversation I just heard, but nothing makes sense; everything is wrong. So very wrong. I don’t know what to think and all I really want to do is sink to the ground and cry.
The words I heard ring through my head over and over, but the more I consider them, the less sense they make. Why would Quinn have anything to do with my past? I would remember if I’d met him before.
Wouldn’t I?
My memories were pretty patchy right after surgery, but they’ve been mostly whole for months now. Surely I wouldn’t forget him. Not with the way he affects me.
Unless that’s why he affects me.
But why would the triangles change anything? They’re just weird glowing things. I want to groan out loud. Why did I have to tell Elizabeth about them? Stupid!
I’m walking without any sense of direction and hardly see the other people on the sidewalk as I pass. I don’t know what to do. Betrayal is an icy spike through my chest; I’m more alone than ever with no idea who I can trust.
It was always Elizabeth.
Now there’s no one.
Only myself.
And Benson.
My phone is in my hand before I can reconsider, a toneless ringing trilling in my ear. “Please answer, please answer,” I whisper as three rings sound, then four.
“Tave?”
“Benson.” I look in both directions before whispering, “Can you come get me? I’m in trouble.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Benson parks against the curb in front of his off-campus house and by the time he gets around to my door, I’m already out and shifting from foot to foot, anxious to get inside. “You okay?” he asks, his hands softly rubbing up and down my arms. It’s the first thing he’s said since picking me up.
It was a little awkward—should I have greeted him with a kiss? Are we pretending last night never happened? I don’t even know.
So I said nothing.
Did nothing.
“Yeah. No,” I mumble. What was the question? “Can we go inside?”
Benson opens the door and beckons me in. There are a half a dozen guys lounging in the great room; three are playing some sort of video game in front of a humongous television and one in a chair near the front window looks at me with a flirtatious grin.
“New girlfriend?” he asks, addressing the question to Benson, though his eyes never leave my face.
