Enders (26 page)

We walked out into the brisk, sweet night air. We were outside. Free.

“Where’s the car?” I asked.

Michael pointed toward the far corner of the building, out at the end of the parking lot, toward the street. “That way.”

We ran, crossing the street and making our way to the next block. We tried to stay behind cars and in shadows as much as possible. Finally, we reached the car, and I unlocked it so we could climb in.

Hyden started the engine. The sound broke through the quiet night.

“Hurry,” I said.

Hyden drove down the empty street. Michael reached over to give me a high five.

“Don’t celebrate so fast,” Hyden said. “I want some distance between us and that place.”

I looked past Michael to the airscreen in the back. It was still closed, but a faint glow peeked out from under the cover.

“My dad’s z-drive,” I said. “Maybe it finished processing.”

We needed a quiet, safe place to view what my father had left. Hyden knew of a place that would be open—an underground hydroponic co-op garden.

“What’s that?” I asked him.

“A place where we can also get some fresh food,” he said.

“Let me guess. It’s belowground because they want to avoid spore dust?”

“It’s the new ‘organic,’ ” Michael said.

“That,” Hyden said, “and some of the people stay low as much as they can. The Enders come right after work. They’re that afraid of a future attack.”

We got out of our car. A Starter immediately wiped it down like at the flea market. The air here was humid and warm and smelled earthy. We didn’t care; we were so glad to be free from Dawson.

We had to step into shallow troughs filled with a murky liquid before we were allowed to enter the green market. They had several set up.

“So we don’t track in spore dust?” I asked Hyden as I swished my shoes in the trough.

“It’s got a chemical agent in it.” He stepped out of his trough. “We’re lucky the head gardener isn’t here today. She makes you put a paper gown over your clothes.”

I looked to my right and saw Michael shaking his wet shoes like a cat coming in from the rain. Inside, there were tables of tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, all manned by Enders and Starters alike.

“They get the light from tubes leading to the outdoors,” Hyden said. “And from lights run on portable batteries they charge in their cars.”

The garden itself was behind the tables of produce. Large trays of vegetables were set in larger trays of a water bath. I looked at the range of gardeners spraying water on the plants.

“The people here …,” I started to say quickly.

“All kinds,” Hyden said in a low voice. “They just don’t trust the safety of food sold up there.”

“Can’t blame them,” Michael said.

We picked up fresh tomatoes and cucumbers and juices. Having paid for the produce, we were able to stay in the
parking spot to look at the airscreen. Hyden and I got in the backseat and popped up the airscreen while Michael stood outside, leaning in, munching on a cucumber. The drive had finished deciphering the encryption and was ready to play. Hyden started it and an image of my father appeared on the airscreen.

Dad looked worried. His hair was uncombed. There were dark circles under his eyes. He seemed to look directly at me when he spoke, as if he knew I would be here someday.

“This drive contains confidential proprietary material not intended for any other transmission. In the case of my death, I, Ray Woodland, declare that the research contained herein should benefit my two children, Callie and Tyler.”

He was doing this for me. My heart ached.

“Callie, if you are watching this, the work I leave behind may provide for you and Tyler. I’ve been developing a process of transposition, a mind-body transfer. I know I am not alone, that others have succeeded and surpassed me, but my findings on reverse transposition have a particular function that I believe no one has been able to achieve to date. It will be of value for you to sell to provide for yourselves.”

“Reverse transposition?” I asked.

Hyden froze the image in the air with a tap of his fingers. “That’s when a donor body, like you, gets back into the body of the renter and controls it. It’s something no one has done yet.”

Me? Control my jacker? What a concept.

“Going into my jacker’s body? Seeing through his eyes? Making him move? That would be incredible.”

“It’s still just theory,” he said.

Hyden touched the airscreen and it resumed playing. My father continued speaking. I’d never seen him so serious.

“I may not be alive by the time this is played, I know that,” he said.

It hurt to hear those words. But he’d just been in my head. He had to be alive. Unless …

“During the past month, I’ve been followed and confronted and harassed because I refused to work for a man whose vision for the technology did not match mine. I’ve documented my key research on this drive in the event that something happens to me. Protect it and use it wisely.”

His image cut to black and then a series of numbers and formulas flashed at a rapid pace. Hyden watched the screen with fascination. Suddenly, it went blank. Just like that, gone.

“What happened?” I asked.

“It’s okay, it’s all there,” Hyden said. “Don’t worry. I’ll examine it later.”

The video “visit” with my father was painfully short. I longed to play it again and again.

“Those numbers you saw flying across the screen?” Hyden said. “Well, now I can use his program and upgrade your chip. This opens the path for you to reverse the transposition.”

“Then if Brockman jacks me, I can see through his eyes,” I said slowly. “Make him do what I want.”

I was sure my father never could have imagined that I’d be the one to use his discovery. We had to make it work.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Hyden believed the transmission would be easier outside. With time closing in on us, he wanted to increase our chances of success, so we parked outside, near a shut-down miniature golf course. The barbed wire at the top of the fence made me sad and afraid. It was late and dark, but I could see that the windmill inside was broken, with only two blades left. It reminded me of the last time I was at a place like that, with my mother. It was the day the spores fell.

“You coming, Callie?” Michael poked my arm with his finger.

I got out as Hyden opened the back of his vehicle and started up the airscreen.

He used my father’s program to try to wirelessly upgrade my chip. “Stand over there,” he said to me, pointing to a small tree about ten feet away. “No guarantees it worked. We’re going to have to test it.”

Michael stood behind Hyden and looked over his shoulder. “What’re you doing now?”

“Setting her chip ID,” he said. “There. Got it.”

Hyden then climbed into the lounge-seat and closed his eyes.

In a few seconds, I could hear Hyden inside my head.

Can you hear me?

“Loud and clear,” I said.

It was strange having Hyden inside my head again. The last time had been when Dawson was forcing me to shoot Michael at the range. But now we were the ones pulling the strings.

Okay, don’t move, don’t do anything. I’m going to establish control
.

I stood there and waited, my arms at my sides. Then my right arm rose slowly, until it was over my head.

Good. So now see if you can resist. I’ll keep your arm up there and you try to bring it down
.

It was sort of like arm wrestling with an invisible opponent. Hyden was strong, mentally, and I was not making any headway. I focused, even gritted my teeth, but my arm stayed up.

“I can’t,” I said.

It’s because you’re not scared. You know this is safe. Okay, I’ll lower your arm
.

My arm came down. I felt like a failure.

Let’s try the reversal. Just work on getting inside me
.

“How?”

I found something in your father’s notes on the drive. He suggests focusing on imagining a string between us. A taut cord. Visualize a blue light around it running from me to you. Now picture a gold light going from you to me. Take the blue light and turn it gold. See the flow from you to me
.

I tried to see what he wanted me to. I understood it
intellectually, but making it real was something else. I worked at it for several long minutes, but I never was able to get inside his head and see what he was seeing. I was still in my own body.

Now I really felt like a failure.

“It’s not working,” I said.

Hyden got out of the special seat. He looked at the airscreen, examining the program. And then he climbed out of the car and joined me.

“I looked at the program. I did it right. It should work.”

Michael came over and put his arm around my shoulders. Hyden looked back at the car.

“Let’s try another location,” Hyden said.

“Isn’t all this exposure dangerous?” Michael asked.

“If he jacks her, then we’ll really have a test,” Hyden said.

We all got back in the car, and Hyden drove.

I realized we were missing something important. “We have no phones.”

“They’re all back at Dawson’s.” Hyden motioned with his head. “Wanna go back?” He grinned.

I grabbed a bottle of water from the car’s cooler and handed one to Michael. Behind him, I saw a looming shape following us on the lonely road. A massive SUV.

Its headlights were off.

“We’re not alone,” I said.

Michael turned around to look. The hulking SUV drew closer.

Hyden squinted in his rearview mirror. “How long has he been behind us?”

“Just saw him,” I said.

“It could just be a guy who forgot to turn his lights on,” Michael said.

“I don’t think so,” Hyden said.

“One of Brockman’s?” I asked.

Hyden nodded. “I shouldn’t have done the test outside. He scanned us.” He slapped the wheel. “Hold on. I’m going to lose him.”

He sped up and did a fast turn down a small street in this mixed industrial area. A cat darted out in front of our car.

“Watch out!” I said.

“I see it,” Hyden said.

He swerved and hit a trash can, knocking it into the street. The SUV behind us just plowed through it, sending garbage flying.

I turned around. “Michael, is that a Starter driving?”

He looked. “Sure is. A guy.”

I squinted. “And he looks jacked. Do you know where you’re going?”

“No! I’m just trying to lose him,” Hyden said as he held on to the wheel.

I pulled up the airscreen nav and saw a dead end ahead.

“This road is blocked,” I said. “There’s no way out.”

“Good,” Hyden said.

“Good?” Michael shouted.

Hyden went faster. The jacked Starter was right on our tail. I could see a tall concrete wall at the end of the street.

“We’re heading for that wall!” I shouted.

“I know.” Hyden gripped the wheel. “We’re not going to hit it.” The wall was coming up fast. “We’re going to hit
him
. Get ready.” He slammed on his brakes and jammed into reverse.

The SUV rammed into our vehicle with a horrible, ear-splitting metallic crunch. Our airbags deployed, cushioning us from all angles.

We all caught our breath.

“You two all right?” Hyden pressed a button; our airbags deflated and seat belts released.

“I guess,” I said. My body was shaking from the impact. “Michael?”

“I’m a lot better than that guy.” Michael stared at the SUV behind us.

Hyden grabbed a gun—so did I—and got out of the car. “You stay,” he said to Michael.

Hyden’s vehicle was essentially a tank, but I hadn’t expected we’d come out of that without a dent. The front of the other guy’s SUV had accordioned against our rear, a mess of metal, but Hyden’s ride was as solid as ever.

We approached slowly. Hyden aimed his gun, looked in the driver’s side, then opened the door.

The Metal fell out.

“No seat belt,” Hyden said. “He’s dead.”

He was bleeding from the head and his eyes were open in a frozen last stare.

Hyden checked his pockets and came up empty. I checked the SUV to make sure no one else was inside. I opened the passenger’s-side door and looked around. There were no papers to tell us where he was from.

Hyden stepped over the body and reached in the driver’s seat, calling up information from the nav airscreen. “I want to find out the last place this thing has been.”

A moment later, he found it.

“Joshua Tree,” he said. “Used to be a national park in the desert.”

Brockman’s place.