Resist (25 page)

Read Resist Online

Authors: Tracey Martin

Tags: #Amnesia;Assassin;Suspense Elements

Epilogue

Several Months Later

Bass-heavy music from the house on the corner greets us as Kyle parallel parks in a tight spot. It's unusually warm out for a spring evening, and RTC students spill from a sorry-looking front porch and hang out the open windows, chatting. Those ever-popular red cups fill their hands like the latest must-have accessory.

Oh, how I've missed the sight of them. I never got the obsession with alcohol, but seeing those cups and feeling that music thud in my chest drives home the fact that I'm here again. My once and future school.

I came here as a lie, but soon I'll return in truth.

The faces on the people hanging out front are only vaguely familiar at most. None of them were my friends during my incomplete semester here. A few of them do recognize Kyle and shout a greeting, but they clearly weren't close enough to him to wonder why he vanished around winter finals.

The story Malone spun at the time was that we were both seriously ill and had to be removed from school, but that lie died with The Four. The truth is out, though not widely known. At least not among students at RTC.

After finally getting to meet Kyle's mother—Sarah Fisher—and Kyle's stepfather, we agreed that the safest thing for them to do was go public. No doubt they were sick of hiding and living a lie as much as I was. But Sarah Fisher's research is also too valuable to disappear into the black hole of a CIA investigation.

Without the people who had been primarily hunting her and Kyle all of Kyle's life, it just made sense. This way, even if the remains of RedZone—or any other terrorist organization that rises from The Four's scraps—gets their hands on her research, they alone won't have it. Legitimate scientists will have access to the secrets in Kyle's DNA and more—they'll have his mother to explain how she did it. And the world has her able to continue working on it.

It's been an ongoing process for Kyle and his family, meeting with the CIA and stepping into the light. Blissfully, I've been left out of it, although staying in the shadows hasn't been easy. While it was smart for Kyle's family to go public, neither I, nor anyone else in my unit, is convinced of the same thing for us. I don't want to be pressured to become anyone else's super soldier. For that reason alone, it's extra strange to be back at RTC as myself. The site of my first and only official mission.

Kyle seems to sense what I'm feeling, or maybe the whole visit is as surreal for him as it is for me, because he gives my hand a squeeze as we step into the living room. The party is in full swing, and the place is hot and overcrowded. Instinctively, I count the entrances and exits, check the windows and scan the crowd for signs of threats. Habit, I suppose, although I don't entirely trust that I'm safe from The Four's retaliation, and I probably never will be. For tonight, though, everything seems good.

I'm beginning to find more people I was friendly with, but there's one face in particular I search the crowd for. She sees us first.

“Kyle! Sophia!” Audrey bounds into the room at top speed, her round cheeks spread in an infectious grin. “Oh, my God!” The next thing I know, she's thrown her arms around both of us.

“You're killing me, Aud,” Kyle says, worming out of her grip.

She shoves him lightly and steps away. “That's not possible, is it?” Audrey is one of the few people at RTC who does know what's going on. Or what went on.

Back when we were roommates, I teased her for not paying attention to the news or what's important in world events. So while she might have learned about RedZone and Kyle's history on her own, Kyle thought we owed it to her to make sure she knew the truth. Malone dragged her into it, after all.

“And you. I just…” She blinks at me. “I can't believe. I mean, holy crap. You know how I want to be a writer? Can you please give me permission to write your story? I won't use your name or your alias, and I'll leave out anything you tell me to. I'll pretend it's fiction if I have to.”

I laugh because I don't want to disappoint her yet. “We'll talk. My people and your people.”

It's good to see she's as full of energy and enthusiasm as always. And she looks good. You'd never know she spent a week in a RedZone-induced coma, or that I had a few tense days when I was worried she'd never recover after we brought down The Four.

As expected, Malone hadn't kept his promise to cure her and the other RTC students. With the camp in shambles and many of its senior scientists on the run, it was up to us to make sure the ability to do so just happened to fall into the right authorities' hands.

Just like we silently nudged them in all kinds of directions—to the camp, to Fitzpatrick and toward any piece of the international puzzle we were afraid they'd miss or wouldn't get to before someone stole or destroyed it. While I'm certain personnel at the camp did destroy as much as they could, I'm also certain law enforcement found enough evidence remaining that it will take them years to sort through it. And that includes any of the younger trainees who weren't able to flee. As legal minors with deadly skills, their fates are something I'll be keeping an eye on. They need help, not punishment.

“Seriously, your people scare me,” Audrey says. Then she tugs me into another hug. “I'm so glad you're both okay.”

“The feeling is mutual.” I mentally bite my tongue so I don't apologize for what happened to her. Kyle's nagged me too much about feeling responsible for the many terrible things Malone did or made me do.

A short time later we're tucked on a beat-up sofa with the rest of the group I got to meet last semester. They were Audrey's and Kyle's friends, and many of them became Malone's victims through becoming friends with me. Chase, Yen, Alanna and others—they know differing amounts based on the astuteness of their questions and how much they've shared with each other.

“So are you coming back?” Chase asks. “They gave me a new roommate this semester, but we want to move off campus next year.” He motions to the group to signal who “we” refers to.

Kyle drinks his soda. Like me, his liver was perfected to process alcohol much faster than a normal person's. For us both, drinking is only worth it if the booze tastes good, and it doesn't take a mutant or an implant to determine that what's being served at this party doesn't qualify.

“We're going to take some summer classes to catch up on what we missed,” he says. “Then we'll be back in the fall.”

Audrey's eyebrows shoot up. “Both of you?” She regards me with surprise.

“Both,” I confirm.

Do I need to go to college? In many ways, probably not. I have enough knowledge and skills to keep me busy for the rest of my life, and then some. But many of those skills don't exactly pertain to things I want to do. I want to be free of RedZone, free to make my own choices, and to do that I need opportunities. Taking classes at Robert Treat College, and even earning a degree, will give me those. Then, one day, if I decide to put my life's training to use anyway, I can do so with an informed choice.

This is my chance to finally have the normal life I—Sophia—discovered I craved when I came here on my mission. And Sarah Fisher is a kind, grateful woman to make sure it happens for me. Either that, or she really wants to make sure Kyle has a bodyguard close by when he returns to college. She's obviously a sly, smart woman too. The more I think about it, the more I'm betting on both.

Whichever, it works for me.

As for the rest of my unit, our personalities and plans are as different as our appearances were created to be. Some of them are determined to fade into anonymity, keep low and see the world on their own terms. Others, like Cole and Jordan, aren't content with that.

Jordan was always driven to stop Malone, Fitzpatrick and everyone else at the camp. And Cole is determined to redeem himself, despite our assurances that he doesn't need redemption. As long as we can find intel on high-ranking members of The Four's organization whom the authorities missed, members of unit HY1 intend to bring them down.

“Soph?” Yen's voice brings me back to the present. “Wake up. I asked what kind of pizza you wanted.”

My brain feels like it's sliding back into my body. “Anything. I'll eat whatever.” After nineteen years of the camp's food, it takes a lot before I'll turn my nose up at something.

Kyle drapes an arm around me and pulls me closer. “You sure you're not going to get bored back here?”

“If I do, I'll take a philosophy class or one of Audrey's English classes. Something I'll have to work at.”

“You realize how messed up it is that the classes everyone else considers to be easy are the ones you struggle with.”

I punch him lightly. “Dork. You realize everything about me is messed up?”

“Well aware, but it's hard to be judgmental when you've been a mutant on the run your whole life.”

“And you like me anyway.”

“I was thinking—and you like
me
anyway, Hernandez. Or whatever your real name is.”

I lean over and kiss Kyle's perfect lips. “Why yes, I do, mutant. And you know my real name.”

I am Sophia—Seven—Hernandez. I'm an assassin, a spy and one of the good guys. And that's no lie.

Unit HY1 and Their Aliases

One—Cole

Two—Sky

Three—Gabriel (Gabe)

Four—Michael (Mike)

Five—Alan

Six—Summer

Seven—Sophia

Eight—Octavia

Nine—Jordan

Ten—Dylan

Eleven—Lev

Twelve—Eva

About the Author

Tracey Martin grew up outside of Philadelphia, the lucky recipient of a drama-free childhood, which is why she spent so much time reading about other people's lives. It was while she was working on her doctorate in psychology that she had an epiphany—imaginary people are way more fun than real ones. And so she began writing. Never able to choose just one of anything, she currently writes both urban fantasy and sci-fi for adults and contemporary stories for teens.

She likes her coffee simple, her music epic and her movies to contain explosions. A city girl at heart, she doesn't understand how she and her husband ended up living in New Hampshire, but writing keeps her off the mean, small-town streets. To learn more, you can visit her website at
tracey-martin.com
, or say hi on twitter to
@TA_Martin
.

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Warning: Contains blackmail, betrayal, and sex that's literally to die for. Plus plenty of bad stiff jokes to go with it. Remember, just say no to magical drugs.

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