Blood Ties (33 page)

And yet, at that moment, I don’t think I’d ever been happier.

‘You did it,’ I whispered. ‘You got us away.’

Rachel looked up at me. Her eyes were shining. ‘You hurt yourself,’ she whispered. Her breath was white mist in the cold air. ‘To save us.’

‘To save myself too,’ I grinned.

Like the Nazi I am.

The smile fell from my face.

‘We should go.’ I pulled back a little.

Who am I kidding? I don’t let people in.

That’s who I am.

‘The Jefferson Memorial, yeah?’ I frowned, trying to remember what Rachel had said the night before.

Rachel nodded. ‘Lewis told me to go there if we got separated. If he’s alive, that’s where he’ll be.’

I sat up, colliding with the bush leaves. My head spun. ‘Let’s go.’

‘Are you okay?’ Rachel’s voice was full of concern.

‘Sure.’ I closed my eyes, fighting the nausea that swelled inside me. ‘We have to find Lewis. Get started with the relocation stuff you said Max had worked out.’ I took in a deep breath. It helped. The air was crisp and cold.

‘Theo?’

I opened my eyes. Rachel was sitting up beside me.

‘How’s your arm?’ she said gently.

I looked down. The pillowcase was a mess of dried blood, stuck to my skin. I tugged part of it away, exposing a centimetre or so of jagged flesh.
Ow.
I felt sick again.

‘That looks nasty.’ Rachel made a face. ‘Maybe we should get you to a hospital.’

‘I’m fine,’ I lied. ‘Anyway, I’m not going near any hospital. If Elijah finds me in one he’ll have all my internal organs out before you can say
clone-boy.’

Rachel smiled.
Man
, she was so pretty when she smiled.

‘Hey,’ I grinned. ‘Maybe having my heart’d make him a nicer guy.’

Rachel gave a sort of hiccupy laugh. I put my hand on her cheek and stroked the dirt off her face with my thumb.

‘We’ll be okay,’ I said. I bent my head so my nose almost touched hers. Her eyes were shut, her lips slightly parted. I could feel her breath, warm against my mouth.

My heart was beating fast. I wanted to kiss her.

I’d never wanted anything so much.

Too much.

I don’t let people in.

I pulled away, then twisted round and stood up carefully, using the bush we had slept under for support.

‘Come on.’

I stretched out my good arm to her. The sun was an orange disc on the horizon. The air was still. The distant hum of traffic the only noise.

Rachel stood up, silently, ignoring my offered arm. She kept her face turned away from me too, or maybe that was just a coincidence.

Then, together, we dragged a complaining Daniel to his feet and set off to find someone who could tell us how to get to the Jefferson Memorial.

‘I’m hungry,’ Daniel said for the tenth time.

I took his hand. ‘Won’t be long now,’ I said.

We had been walking for what felt like hours, though it couldn’t have been that long really. The sun was properly risen now, and there was loads of Monday morning traffic. Commuters were bustling about the busy Washington streets. Apart from the many people I’d asked for directions to the Jefferson Memorial, no one had taken much notice of us, even though it must have been obvious we’d slept outside. Our clothes were creased and dirty, and Daniel’s face in particular was covered with specks of earth.

I guess big cities are the same everywhere. It’s easy to ignore what you don’t want to see.

I didn’t know what to say to Theo. When he’d moved so close to me earlier my heart had practically stopped beating. For a minute I almost let myself believe that he liked me. As in ‘liked’. Big time.

But then it was over and since we’d left the little park area he’d hardly said a word. I had no idea what I’d done wrong. Maybe when he got up close to my face he’d realised how ugly I was under all the dirt. Maybe he was just worrying about finding Lewis. And it was obvious his arm was hurting him badly. He held it gently, using his other arm like a sling.

‘I’m hungry,’ Daniel whined again.

I was hungry as well, but I was more tired than anything. I’d hardly slept all night what with the cold and worrying about Theo and being terrified by the rustling noises all around us. I glanced at Theo. His face was drawn and horribly pale. He must be hungry too.

We passed a busy pretzel stand on the corner of two busy streets in a business district.

‘Let’s sit down for a minute,’ I said.

Theo slumped to the ground and leaned against the wall of some office block. He closed his eyes. I watched men and women in smart suits buying coffee and pretzels from the stand. Then I shuffled forwards, slightly away from the building we were resting against. I held out my hand and dipped my head.

I had never begged before in my life, but I’d seen plenty of people do it at home in London. Sometimes they had cardboard signs round their necks saying they were hungry or homeless. I had to rely on my dirty face – and on Daniel, who huddled pitifully against me as I sat there. He was shivering from the cold air, even though the sun was really quite fierce now.

A few minutes passed.

Somebody pressed a coin into my hand. Change clattered down onto the pavement beside me. I quickly gathered the money into my lap and held out my hand again.

It took about fifteen minutes to collect three dollars. Armed with this, I bought two large pretzels and shared them between us. The guy on the stand gave us further directions to the Jefferson Memorial. It wasn’t far now. We just had to keep going down Fourteenth Street, past the turn onto Independence Avenue, right down to something called the Tidal Basin – a little bay that the memorial stood on the edge of, apparently.

We trudged on. Daniel was munching on his big pretzel, holding my hand. I could see trees and water up ahead. Then Theo pointed.

‘That’s gotta be it.’

Set against the clear blue sky was a raised stone structure. At the top of some steps was a huge statue, covered with a roof and flanked on three sides by tall columns.

We walked closer. There was hardly anyone about. It must still be very early. I walked round the base of the memorial. There was no sign of Lewis.

‘If he’s . . . he’s probably sweeping for us,’ I said as I reached Theo and Daniel again. ‘It’s what he’d do. Sweeping the area every hour or so to see if we’re here yet.’

Theo squinted down at me, shielding his eyes from the sunlight. I couldn’t read his expression.

‘Let’s go up to the statue,’ I said. The air was still as we walked up the steep stone steps. The sun disappeared as we entered the memorial itself. The figure of Jefferson loomed high above our heads.

‘Who’s he?’ Daniel asked.

‘One of the American presidents, I think,’ I said. There was still no one about. ‘Why don’t you race round the monument ten times, Daniel?’ I said. ‘Warm you up. I’ll count how quickly you do it.’

Daniel shoved his last bit of chewed up pretzel into my hands. ‘How fast will you count?’

‘Like this.’ I drummed a beat on my hands. ‘One. Two. Three. Yeah?’

He nodded, then dashed off.

Theo wandered over to the wall on the right far side of the statue. Some writing was carved there, in large, clear letters.

He read out loud: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident.’ He turned to me. ‘What does that mean?’

‘It’s obvious,’ I said.

Theo raised his eyebrows. ‘Not to me, smart-arse.’

I blushed. ‘No, that’s what it means: “To us the following is obvious”. And then it goes on to say
what’s
obvious . . . that all men are created equal.’

‘Well, that’s a load of crap.’ Theo snorted. ‘People aren’t equal. Some have money and talent and power while—’

‘No,’ I said. ‘It says “created equal” as in “start out equal”, deserve equal rights to . . . to . . .’ I searched the writing again. ‘To those things it says right there . . . life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.’

Theo stared at the words.

‘This is from the American Declaration of Independence,’ I burbled on. ‘They wrote it when they got independence.’

‘Independence from what?’ Theo asked.

‘From us. From Britain. Hundreds of years ago.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Don’t you study history at your school?’

Theo shrugged. There was an awkward pause. ‘Bet they didn’t have clones in mind when they wrote that.’

I looked round at Daniel. He was still hauling himself round the statue. I could hear him checking off laps under his breath.
Three. Four.

‘Hey, Rachel.’ Theo grinned at me, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘I’ve got a history lesson for you.’

I told her everything that Elijah had told me. I don’t know why. Once I started I couldn’t stop myself. It was a relief to get it off my chest. She listened silently. Sympathetically.

Daniel ran up. ‘How long did I take?’ he panted.

‘Two hundred and twenty-three seconds,’ Rachel said instantly.

I smiled. I was sure she hadn’t been counting.

‘Can we go to the toy shop now?’

‘Later,’ Rachel said. ‘Why don’t you do ten more laps? See if you can beat your record.’

He ran off.

Rachel looked at me. ‘All that, about who Elijah is and who his parents were. You know it doesn’t mean anything, don’t you?’

‘Of course it means something. All that terrible stuff they did is in me too, like it is in Elijah.’

‘Who says?’ Rachel frowned. ‘Anyway, didn’t you just say that Elijah hates his parents for what they believed? For what they did. That he’s tried to create life, not destroy it.’

‘Exactly.’ I clenched my jaw, feeling a terrible rage boiling up inside me. ‘He’s tried to be different, but he’s ended up exactly the same. Prepared to play God and experiment with people’s lives. Even to kill me to save himself.’

Rachel shook her head. ‘No, Theo. That’s not the same thing. Who you are is up to you. It’s down to the choices you make, the things you decide to do with your life.’ She pointed at Daniel, still padding round the monument. ‘He’s got the same genes as you and Elijah. Look at him. He’s just a little boy. Not a murderer.’ She laughed. ‘Exactly when do these killer genes kick in?’

‘You don’t understand.’ The anger ripped out of me in a shout. ‘I
am
like Elijah. I’m tied to him by . . . by the exact same blood, even. I don’t care about other people. I look after myself. Only myself. Other people don’t matter. I hate other people.’

I stared at Daniel as he disappeared behind the monument. The pain in my arm was intense. I felt like driving my fist into the stone walls of the memorial.

‘If that’s true,’ Rachel said scornfully, ‘then it’s because that’s how you
want
it. Not how it
has
to be. But I don’t think it is true. I think you just feel sorry for yourself, which is—’

‘How
dare
you say that. You don’t know anything about . . .’ I stopped. Daniel hadn’t reappeared round the other side of the monument.

I paced forwards.

‘What is it?’ Rachel was at my side. ‘Did you see Lewis?’

‘Daniel?’ I called out.

There was no sign of him round the sides or front of the statue. I strode to the top of the steps and looked round as far as I could.

‘DANIEL!’

Rachel clutched my arm. I swivelled round and followed her pointing finger.

There, emerging from behind one of the columns opposite, was Daniel, his arm tightly gripped by a man with a short, grey ponytail and cold, blue eyes. My stomach flipped over. The man’s hand was over Daniel’s mouth. Daniel’s eyes shone wide and terrified above it.

There was no sign of Lewis.

‘That’s Simpson,’ Rachel breathed. ‘The man from RAGE.’

He beckoned us towards him.

Rachel’s hand slid off my arm and I took it in my hand. I could feel her shaking as we walked over and stood in front of Simpson and Daniel.

‘Where’s Lewis?’ Rachel said.

‘In the car.’ Simpson pointed beyond the memorial grounds to the street. Several cars were parked in a row. It was impossible to see if anyone was really inside them. ‘If you don’t walk down there quietly with me now, my men have orders to shoot him. There are also people positioned all around the memorial who will catch you if you try to escape.’

‘Is Lewis really okay?’ Rachel let go of my hand. ‘What about Mel?’

Simpson stared at her. ‘Both fine,’ he said shortly. ‘We found them half conscious as we were leaving the building. They’ve told us a lot.’ He looked meaningfully down at Daniel, whose face was creased with terror. ‘An awful lot.’

I froze. ‘Lewis and Mel wouldn’t tell you anything.’

‘To stop us hurting the other, they would tell us everything,’ Simpson sneered. ‘Come on.’ He gave Daniel a little shake. ‘I told you, I’m going to take you home.’

He turned and trotted down the memorial steps, still clutching Daniel by the arm.

Rachel and I stared after him.

‘If we get in that car we’re dead,’ I said.

She nodded. ‘I know, but what about Lewis and Mel? What about Daniel?’ She started walking down the steps after Simpson.

I raced after her and grabbed her arm.

‘We don’t even know if Mel and Lewis are really alive.’

Rachel shook me off.

‘I’m not giving up on them now. And anyway, we can’t leave Daniel. It’s obvious RAGE knows who he is – he’s in as much danger as we are.’

She walked on, down the steps.

The memorial was busier now. A coachload of tourists was spilling out in front of the cars. Several elderly couples were puffing their way past us up the steps.

The sun shone harsh on my face. My cut arm felt hot and heavy and sore. I looked at Rachel. She had reached Simpson, who was halfway down the steps. He stopped and stared back at me, impatiently.

I looked beyond him towards the water in the distance. Something glinted behind one of the trees. I couldn’t work out what it was. It moved. The sun flashed off it again. It was long and narrow and . . .
Jesus
, it was a gun, the barrel clearly pointing towards Simpson, Daniel and Rachel.