Michael approached warily. He paused, then grabbed Tyler and hugged him so tight he could barely breathe.
“Take Tyler inside, Michael, and shut the door behind you. Input this code, 3-7-9-6-5-1-4-5, into the interior keypad by the door. The door is reinforced and the code will engage the deadlocks. Do you have it memorized?”
Tyler’s father muttered the numbers beneath his breath and nodded. “3-7-9-6-5-1-4-5. Got it.”
“For the release code, add one to all the digits. 4-8-0-7-6-2-5-6. Give it thirty minutes. This will all be over by then.”
“What are you going to do?” Tyler knew his voice was scratchy with fear and worry but he was unable to hide it from her.
Jay’s gaze locked on to his. “Whatever it takes to keep you and your sister and Marissa, and yes, even your misguided father, safe.”
Michael stuck out his hand, wincing slightly when Jay grasped it. “Thank you. And I’m sorry.”
“I know, Michael. You were lied to from the start and you were only trying to keep your family safe. If you’ve got any sense, you’ll make yourself scarce, and go on that extended holiday, too. Marissa will need your help. And if you get down on your knees and beg, you might even convince her to accept it. I’ve considered all the available men in this town, analyzed all the available data, and in my not-so-humble opinion, no one else is good enough for her.” Her features smoothed, blanked until it truly seemed to Tyler that she’d shucked off her humanity and he was gazing at something manmade. Something inhuman.
“Go,” she said to him. And launched herself down the stairs without a backward glance.
Michael yanked open the door and pushed Tyler inside. The instant before his father slammed it shut behind them, Tyler heard the unmistakable sound of breaking glass.
Michael input the code Jay had given him and waited until the deadbolts slammed into place. “Just act normal. We don’t want any of the kids panicking,” he told Tyler.
But acting normal, like he hadn’t just been locked in an apartment with a bunch of other kids to protect them from madmen with a terrifying agenda and no qualms about collateral damage, was gonna be the hardest thing Tyler had ever done in his life. He hoped Caro didn’t spot him. God only knew what he’d blurt if she asked what was going on.
Tyler squinted and dabbed his watering eyes with his sleeve. After the gloom of the stairwell, the bright flashing lights seared his eyeballs. From what he could see, none of the party-goers had heard anything untoward over the booming music. And no one seemed to bat an eyelid at the adult who’d suddenly joined them. They were all too intent on dancing, drinking, eating, talking, and doing what teenagers did at parties—even necking in shadowy corners, by the looks of it. All were oblivious to the danger Jay had put herself in for their sakes.
His father shadowed him as he headed for the nearest window. Which was just plain stupid, really, since all the windows were set so high up the walls he couldn’t possibly see out without a ladder.
A ladder…. With a ladder, he might even be able to get out through a skylight and onto the roof. But wasn’t like there was one conveniently lying around the place. He stared up at those tantalizingly unreachable panes of glass and fisted his hands. Better that than scream his fear and frustration, which sure as hell wouldn’t be acting “normal”.
“What do we tell them if someone wants to leave before Jay gets back, or—” Tyler didn’t want to think about the alternative. Couldn’t. “What do we tell them?”
“We tell them the locks are jammed and Jay’s gone to get a locksmith,” Michael said. “It’s only eleven. Can’t imagine any of these kids wanting to leave so soon. Not when there’s plenty of food and drink to keep them happy.” He slumped against the wall and slid down to the floor. He sat knees bent, chin propped on his hands. Tyler joined him.
“If I didn’t know how impossible it was,” Michael muttered, “I might actually believe she cared deeply for you.”
The flashing lights painted Michael’s face with lurid rainbow slashes. He looked alien, implacable. Hard. Completely unlike the man who’d raised him—the father Tyler had once believed could do no wrong.
“Why is that so impossible to believe?” he ground out. He knew what Michael meant but it hurt all the same. “Am I so unlovable? Is that why you left?”
Michael White, AKA Mike Davidson, his
father
, turned pain-filled eyes on him. “No! Of course not. Don’t be an idiot, Tyler. It’s just…. You do know what she—Jay—is, don’t you?”
“Yes. She told us—Caro and me. Showed us, actually.”
Michael blew out a relieved breath. “So. You understand why she didn’t mean it—why she couldn’t mean it. She’s a cyborg, Tyler. A machine. She can’t love anybody. She just pretends. She’s an outstanding mimic.”
Tyler burst out laughing, but it was a mirthless laugh laced with despair. “But she
did
mean it. She told us something was happening inside her, something not even she could comprehend. She did have feelings. And emotions—human emotions. I saw her crying. So I know she really could care for me. I know in here—” he thumped his chest with his fist “—in my heart, she really could love me.”
“Tyler. Son—”
“Don’t call me that,
Michael
.” His father flinched back from Tyler’s vicious emphasis of his name. “You lost the right to call me that when you took off five years ago.”
“You’ll always be my son. And no matter how much you hate me for leaving you, I’ll always be your father.”
Tyler sighed, his anger draining away, leaving him cold and bereft and very, very sad. “Funny,” he said, his voice cracking, “that’s what Jay said about
her
father.”
Michael snorted. “She might look human, Tyler, but she was created in a lab. She didn’t have a father, she had a creator. And she killed him.”
“She
what
?” The blood chilled in his veins.
“She killed him. Broke his neck just before our team got to him. From what they could tell from his medical records, the old man was dying, anyway. Incurable cancer. But she’s dangerous, Tyler, a killer. And now there’s no one alive who knows the sequence to override her inbuilt safeguards and command her obedience.”
Tyler closed his eyes. His mind whirled as he thought hard, winnowing through and discounting a myriad of possibilities, trying to justify Jay’s actions. She wouldn’t have killed her father. Not the Jay he knew, the Jay who’d been so gutted when she talked about his death. She couldn’t have killed him—not willingly, anyway.
“Just as well he’s dead,” he said. “If he’d been alive when you came for him, you’d have tortured that sequence out of him so you could command her and use her as a weapon. But now you can’t. No one can.”
Michael frowned as he processed Tyler’s words, absorbed the surety, the belief in his voice.
Tyler’s gaze drifted to a blank space on the wall. Something had hung there recently. He could still see the picture hook. A psalm. Yeah. That was right. Something about sacrifice and eternal life—
And he was hit by a moment of pure clarity that left him struggling to catch his breath and give voice to the words that had formed on his tongue. “He used the command sequence on her. He forced her to kill him so they wouldn’t get their hands on him. God. No wonder she cried when he died. No wonder she was so damned gutted. Shit. Being made to kill your own father. What a fucking awful thing to be forced to do.”
Michael made a strangled noise of protest.
“You just don’t get it, do you?” Tyler stared into his father’s eyes, willing him to understand. “To Jay, her creator
was
her father. She even called him Father. She loved him. Just like she loves me.”
Michael blinked. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then shut it with a snap. His face was all tight and pinched, like he’d eaten something gross.
“None of it matters now,” Tyler said. “Doesn’t matter how I feel about her, or how she feels about me, or even whether you believe she actually could feel anything at all.”
“It matters,” his father said, staring off into space. “Believe me, it matters more than you realize.”
“Whatever.” Hope joined the churning mass of emotions battering him. “So what are you going to do? What’s your plan?”
Michael gave a bitter little laugh. “I don’t know quite what you think I’ve become, Tyler, but I’m just a computer geek who caught the attention of the wrong people, and got caught up in their schemes. I’m a button-pusher, not an action hero. I’m unarmed, and even if I wasn’t, I’m no match for those mercenaries out there.”
Tyler searched his father’s face and knew he was speaking the truth. His heart twisted. Jay was on her own.
Caro spotted him just then. She stood on tiptoe to wave at him over the crowd of bobbing heads. And then she frowned at his companion. She started to drag Matt through the dancers, and from the look on her face she was all set to give Tyler the third degree. Then he got an unexpected reprieve. The iPod cut off mid-song and the lights died, plunging the room into darkness.
Over the squeals and excited laughter, Tyler whispered to Michael, “What do you think’s happened?”
“My guess is they’ve used the new EMP combo weapon they’ve developed.”
“EMP? What’s that?”
“Electromagnetic Pulse.”
Tyler had a really bad feeling about that. “Like in the movies? When everything electronic gets fried?”
“Near enough,” his father said. “The first one they developed had no effect on her whatsoever, so they went back to R and D and started from scratch.”
“That’s not good. Is it?”
“Maybe she’ll be—” Michael seemed to think better about trying to sanitize the situation for him. “No. Probably not.”
Tyler began to wish his sister
had
made it over before the lights went out. Because he really need a hug right now, and if he didn’t watch it, he’d be asking for one from the man he’d convinced himself he despised. “What Jay said about you only trying to keep us safe—did those people threaten to hurt us if you didn’t do what they said?”
“Among other things. I left because I had no choice. I left the way I did, without saying goodbye, because I had no choice. I did it because I needed to keep you all safe. And if I had to make the choice all over again, I would do the same thing.” Michael was silent for a long while. And then he asked, “Does that make any difference?”
Tyler thought about it. “I think so. It doesn’t make it hurt any less but at least now I understand why you left.”
“Good.”
They waited in the darkness, Tyler hoping, praying….
And Michael? He didn’t have a clue what his father was thinking or worrying about. And that was okay, ’cause right now, he only had the strength to worry about one person.
Jay.
“What’s that humming sound?” he asked. Lights flared, the stereo blared to life, and loud chatter resumed. Within seconds, the party was in full swing again. It was as if nothing had ever gone wrong.
“Huh,” Michael said. “She must have hooked the electrics up to a portable generator somewhere that automatically kicks in after a few minutes. Smart kid.”
Tyler unclenched each quivering muscle and crawled to his feet. His father input the release code and stuck his head out the doorway. He ducked back in to say, “You stay here with your sister. I’m going downstairs and check it out. I’m locking you back in, okay? In case anything happens, do you remember the release code?”
Tyler nodded. “Yeah. It’s 4-8-0-7-6-2-5-6.”
“Good boy. If I’m not back in ten, call the cops. Tell them you heard shots or something, so you locked the door and you’re too scared to come out. That ought to do it. Then promise me you’ll do whatever it takes to convince your Mom to leave town, okay?”
Tyler swallowed. “Okay. Be careful. Dad.”
His dad grinned and ruffled his hair. “I will.” And he disappeared through the doorway, leaving Tyler to face the wrath of Caro, which was bearing down on him like a small and very determined, but very stylishly dressed, tank.
His sister confronted him, hand on hips. “What the eff is going on, Tyler? Where’s Jay? I haven’t spotted her in a while. And who was that guy I saw you talking to just now? And—”
“It was Dad.”
Her brows drew together in an ominous frown. “Have you been drinking, Tyler Davidson? What the hell would our AWOL father be doing at Jay’s farewell party? And where is Jay, anyway?”
“She…. She had to leave. In a hurry.”
Caro paled and he gripped her arm to steady her when she wobbled. “Shit. What happened, Tyler? Is she all right? Tell me!”
So he did.
And he was just finishing up when the door opened and Michael entered the apartment. “Looks like a bomb site outside,” he said when he spotted Tyler. “Couple of cars toppled on their sides, broken windows, one storefront completely demolished—that’s all I know and— Shit. Caro?”
She glared at him, lips thinned into a tight white line, eyes glinting with tears. “Don’t you ever walk out without saying good-bye again, you big dumbass.”