Eat the Ones You Love (The Thirteen Book 2) (19 page)

“Yes, him,” he said. “And others.”

“So you have to fill people with metal before they become immune to this thing, right? You have to slice them open and replace their bones with metal, their nerves, mess with their bodies.”

“Goodness, no,” he said. “What you are, what Faron is, that’s not for the rotters. That’s for life. To live forever. You’re the fountain of youth, Jenny. Forever young and never dying. Not for long anyway.”

“Lucky me.”

“I know you see it as a cross to bear,” he said. “I can see that now. But that’s not how we intended it. We wanted our children to survive whatever catastrophe came our way. We wanted you to live forever.”

“You should have asked us what we wanted.”

“Yes. Yes, we should have. We should have done a great many things differently. Or not done them, as the case may be.”

“So this Group,” she said. “They got Sully to switch out the samples, right?”

“I didn’t know that,’ he said.

“He said there was a test,” said Jenny. “In a subway. To see how far contagion spreads in the city. The sample was harmless. I don’t know what it was, but Mom was in charge. Sully switched them out.”

“Oh. Oh, I see.” He was looking at Anna oddly. “I thought…Well, it doesn’t matter.” He squeezed Anna’s hand tighter and closed his eyes.

“You thought she did it, too,” said Jenny.

He looked up at her and shook his head. “I didn’t know what to think,” he said.

“You took care of her all this time thinking she caused all this on purpose?” said Jenny. “Why?”

“Because you take care of the ones you love,” he said. “You take care of them as long as you can. You do everything to help them.”

“Unless they’re your kids,” said Jenny.
 

“Now, Dove—Jenny—that’s not fair,” he said.

“Who did they take?” said Jenny. “Who was Anna tinkering around on? Who did you let her torture this time?”

“Jenny, it’s so much more complicated than that.”

“Bullshit. Who was it?”

He sighed and looked down at his hand still clasping his wife’s.
 

“Sarah was always a handful. She was always getting into trouble. When your grandfather found her, she was living wild with a bunch of other children. Teenagers. It was unacceptable.”

“Teenagers?” said Jenny. “How old was she?”

“Fifteen,” he said.

“Jesus Christ,” said Jenny. “Jesus fucking Christ. Was she at the lab? Was she at the fucking lab the same time I was?”

“Jenny…”


ANSWER ME!

“Yes,” he said. “She was kept away. But she got out when Frank…your grandfather turned his attention to you.”

“No,” she said. “No, no, no.”

“She pried open the lock where your grandfather kept you.”

“This isn’t right,” said Jenny.
 

“She got you out of your restraints.”

“Oh my God.”

“She told you how to escape.”

“How do you know all this?”

He hesitated. “Because Sarah stayed behind to keep anyone from following you. She killed several men before they restrained her. And then she told your grandfather everything she did. She laughed at him. She laughed.”

“I left her there,” said Jenny. “No, no, no. NO!” She pulled out the knife and held it against her father’s neck. He simply closed his eyes as though he’d been expecting it. “Tell me you’re lying,” said Jenny. “Tell me I didn’t leave her there. Please, tell me!”
 

Her father opened his eyes and looked up at her.

“I’m sorry, Jenny. I wish I could take it all back. She escaped again, much later. And when we found her, she was…”

“What?” said Jenny, still with her knife to his throat. Her hand was shaking, though.

“Pregnant,” he said.

“What in all the fucks is wrong with your fucking family, Jenny?” Trix yelled.

“A baby,” Jenny said. “She had a baby.”

“She never did die,” he said. “Not like you. From what your mother said, you died many times. But your grandfather wouldn’t give up. Not until you were perfect.”

“A baby,” she said again.

“Rafael, she named him. As if there were angels. She called him Rafi.”

“And what did Anna call him,” said Jenny, motioning to her mother.

“It’s not important.”

“No, really. It is.”

He cleared his throat and pushed the knife away. Jenny let him.

“Patient 672.”

“Her grandson,” said Jenny. “Your grandson. You let her carve him up.”

“We sedated him. He felt no pain. We integrated the newest technology into him. It will actually grow
with
him. Rafi will never have to worry about disease. Never.”

“You took Sarah's child away,” said Jenny.

“I don’t regret it. That child is so much better off than he ever would be out there. It’s chaos out there. It’s blood and dirt and evil out there.”

“I’m not going to kill you,” said Jenny.

“Oh thank God.”

“I’m going to let her do it.”

Jenny turned toward another sound, something that she’d been hearing for a while. A fourth heartbeat, slow and steady. She started toward it, stopping when she saw Declan. His skin was gray and his face was skeletal. He met her eyes and weaved on his feet. Jenny turned to her mother.
 

“Mom, please look at me. Please be in there. I need you right now.”

Anna Hawkins didn’t seem to hear her. Jenny crouched down.
 

“I need you, Mom. Just this once, the only time I’ve ever needed you. I hate it, but it’s true. I need you to fix him. I need you to help him. Please.”

Anna turned and looked at her and for a moment, there was recognition in her eyes. Jenny’s chest filled with something that felt like hope. She smiled at her mother.

“It isn’t any use,” Anna whispered. “The maids are stealing all
my
cotton balls, too.”
 

Jenny’s heart sank as Anna went back to her book. She looked at Declan, who looked away from her. Her mother was her one shot to help him. And she was gone. Jenny stood up and walked toward the door. She nodded at Robin on her way out.

“Be patient,” she told her. “This will all be over soon.”

There was no hope for Declan, but maybe she could still help someone. Jenny left the library, wiping away bitter tears, following the sound of the heartbeat. The sister she had just left there. She hadn’t even looked back. The drugs wore off and she just forgot.

She just left her there.

Her own sister.

Her twin.

She just left her there.

It was all coming back now. Everything. All at once.

TWENTY-FIVE

Jenny woke to pain. She tried to scream, but only a husky whisper would come out. He had done this. It was always him. Frank Bierce. Her grandfather. She was going to kill him someday. She thought about it whenever he hurt her. She would be strong one day and she would kill him. No one could take that from her.
 

She tried to call out for her mother, but her voice didn't work. The pain was too much. She felt the tears wetting her face. It was so dark and cold and the sheet that covered her legs and feet was too thin. She began to shiver. She was strapped to a metal gurney lying on her stomach and the metal was colder than the room.


Jenny
,” said a voice. Tinny and soft and far away.
 

“Who’s there?” she rasped. “Help me. Please. It hurts so much.”


I can’t help you. Not yet.

“Then kill me,” said Jenny. “No more of this.”


I’m not going to kill you, Jenny. We’re going to kill
them
. Together. You and me.

“Who are you?”


Don’t you remember, Jenny? It’s me. Sarah. Your sister.

“I don’t have a sister.”

The voice didn’t talk again for a long time after that. Jenny thought she might have slept or passed out for a time. But when she woke someone was screaming. She didn’t hurt as much now, or at all really. She lifted her head experimentally and found she had no pain. She wiggled her feet, her hands. All good.
 

“Mother?” Jenny called, in full command of her voice again. “Mother? Are you there?”

There was a loud clang at the door. Metal on metal. Jenny jumped. She watched the door. Was Frank coming back? Would he hurt her again? Or just bring her food and water and feed her in complete silence in that creepy way he had? In all the years living with her little brother, Jenny never imagined that she would fear silence. But now she did. Frank did that to her. When he cut her without speaking. When he watched her from across the room, making notes in a little book. Silence. Always. But Frank had a key.

CLANG

“Who’s there?” Jenny said, hating the fear in her voice. “What do you want?”

CLANG

The sound of something breaking. Metal falling on concrete. And then the door creaked open. Jenny strained to see in the dark. She felt dizzy as she tried to raise her head. The drugs were still in her system. Expired morphine, probably, it was all they had anymore.

“Jenny.” The silhouette stepped toward her. A woman, obviously. Maybe a young woman. She sounded older, but Jenny couldn’t be sure. As she came closer, Jenny saw that her hair was long and wild, tangled and dirty with leaves. There was something strange in the way she was looking at her. Jenny felt her heart speed up.

“What do you want?” Jenny said.
 

The woman seemed taken aback. She reached out to touch Jenny’s hair, but stopped just short and pulled back her hand.

“You asked for help,” she said coldly. “I’m here to help.”

“I’m feeling much better,” Jenny said.

The woman started to tug at the restraints.

“No, he’ll be angry,” Jenny said. “Please don’t.”

“You’re never going to see him again,” said the woman, unclasping the cuffs and then focusing on ones on her ankles. “He’ll never hurt you again.”

“Who are you?” said Jenny.

The woman froze for a moment before recovering and undoing the last ankle restraint.

“A friend,” she said. Jenny rolled over and sat up slowly, her head swimming. She felt drunk and nauseous.
 

“Why are you doing this for me?” she said.

“Because you’ve been hurt enough,” said the woman. “It’s someone else’s turn.”

“I have to get my brother.”

“There’s no time.”

“But he’s just a little boy,” said Jenny. “I have to get Casey before we go.”

The woman took a step away from her.

“You know you have a brother,” she said.

“Of course I do,” said Jenny. “Are you crazy?”

The woman looked toward the door.

“Something like that,” she said. “But I didn’t start out that way.” She looked back at Jenny. “I’m not going with you. You’ll have to go alone. No time to get your brother. They’ll stop you if you go back that way.”

“Alone?” she said. “How am I supposed to survive alone?”

“Sometimes alone is better. No one hurts you when you’re alone.”

Something about the woman felt familiar. Jenny squinted in the dark to try and make out her face. She turned away from Jenny and walked toward the door.

“What’s your name?” Jenny said.

“Ophelia,” she said after a pause.

“That’s pretty.”

“You have to go, Jenny. Now.”

Jenny eased off of the gurney, holding it for support until she got her feet. She was so dizzy.

“Thank you, Ophelia.”

The woman turned to look at her.

“You’re welcome, Jenny.”

She went through the door and Jenny heard her running toward where they kept the children. Jenny walked slowly to the door and looked down the hall after her and thought for a moment that she should follow. Casey was down there, with all the other kids. But then she remembered. The cutting. The bleeding. The pain. The silence.

She turned and went the opposite way, holding onto the wall for support, blinded as she opened the door to the outside. Odd how it was unlocked. She could have sworn there had been a padlock before. She walked out into the sunlight and then everything became a blur.

She woke some time later on a heap of garbage. A woman was crouching down next to her. A beautiful woman. She smelled of lilacs.

“You okay, sweetie?” she said.

Jenny sat up groggily.
 

“I escaped,” she said. “They were hurting me and I escaped.”

“Where did you escape from?” she said.

“My mother. The lab.”

The woman looked around.
 

“Was anyone with you?”

“I don’t remember.”

The answer seemed to make the woman happy.
 

“Come with me. I’ll give you a place to stay.”

“I’m Jenny.”

She smiled.

“They call me Josie.”

TWENTY-SIX

The walls were covered in scientific formulas and markings, some in pen or marker, others in paint, some carved into the wall with a sharp edge. Jenny tried not to look at the ones that had been hastily done in what she was pretty sure was dried blood. Maybe they were nonsense, but it was obvious that her mother did, indeed, have her lucid spells. Maybe she could save Declan after all.
 

Jenny followed the heartbeat. It was beating along with her own now, she could feel it in her fingers and ears. Down one hall and up another, and then she was there. The door was sturdy wood. A janitor’s closet back in the day. Jenny reached out and turned the knob. It wasn’t even locked. And when she opened it the smell of sweat and urine assaulted her. The closet was deep and seemed to be emptied out. The heart beat grew stronger until it was all she could hear. She felt for a light switch, forgetting herself.

There was creak and a rattle of metal and a face leaned into the light.
 

“Jenny,” she croaked.

Her head had been shaved badly. Probably with a sharp knife. And Jenny saw firsthand just how deep her scars went. Her scalp, riddled with patches of hair where the blade missed them, was a road map of pain. One scar ran down one temple and ended at the corner of her mouth. Her lips were cracked and her eyes watered in the light. The face was dirty, but Jenny stared and saw her own face staring back at her.

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