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amusing, or finds what he’s doing to her amusing, even if
she doesn’t.
She motions for one of the soldiers to give her some-
thing. He does. A gun.
She puts the gun against his head. 8-Bit looks directly
at the surveillance camera. His gaze is steady, resigned,
imploring.
“I can’t watch this,” I say.
Thomas and I both hold our breath, unable to look.
Unable to not look. Hodges leans in and gives 8-Bit a long,
lingering kiss. Our heads snap toward each other. I don’t
know who’s more shocked, Thomas or me.
Actually, on second thought, it’s definitely Thomas.
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he must be messing with his head, right? That’s the
“Sonly explanation,” I say.
Thomas says nothing. I can’t tell if it’s the pain of his
injury or the image of 8-Bit and Hodges together that’s got
him looking so wrecked.
Then I lie. “We’ll get to him in time. We’ll get him out
of there. Don’t worry.”
“It’s not that . . . I—play it back again.”
“What?”
“I need to see it one more time. It’s a digital file. Just
slide the little time stamp bar back so I can watch it again.”
“Why?”
“Keep your eye on his left hand while he’s talking to
her.”
I would have dismissed it as a nervous tic, but now that I
focus on it, I can see that 8-Bit keeps making a fist and then
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extending his forefinger like he’s pointing straight ahead as
Hodges stands over him, shouting into his face. There does
seem to be a pattern to it. We play it back two more times.
“What is that? Sign language?” I ask.
“Kind of. It’s binary code. Ones and zeroes.” He holds
his finger up. “One is for ‘on.’” He closes his hand into
a fist. “Zero is for off. It’s the most basic language of all
computers.”
“So what did he say?”
Thomas stares a minute, thinking, and then types some-
thing into the computer.
“Go.”
“What? I’m not leaving you here!”
“No, that’s what he was trying to tell me. He knows I’m
here, and he wants me to leave him behind.”
We hear a crackling sound overhead, like a staticky
radio. The PA system comes alive. There’s a bit of feedback
at first, and then someone blows into the microphone and
clears his throat.
“Sarah.”
It’s Larry. He sounds exhausted, but I know it’s him. My
heart leaps at the familiar sound of his voice.
“I guess I should call you Angel now. . . . I just heard
the good news from our very irate consultant that you’re
still alive and somewhere in the building. And that you
have all our research data. I’m so proud. Although I wish
you were miles from here, free from all of this. Angel, I
need you to listen carefully . . . .”
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I listen. Oh boy do I listen.
“I couldn’t let Dr. Buckley do it. I couldn’t let him
destroy you just because she wanted you to go away. I
haven’t got much time, and you need to know some things
about yourself. Things that may save you. I’m going to say
a word in a few moments, Angel. It will unlock abilities
that you didn’t even know you had. But you must be care-
ful. Using them builds you up and tears you down.”
And they make people want to kill me, apparently.
“The process you’ve undergone is different from the
tabula rasa treatment. You’ve had your memories sealed off,
yes, but the pills I gave you will bring them back. We made
some additional changes to your brain chemistry. And for
that I want to apologize. I can only say this: I lost my way.
We had so many failures, and sometimes when you’ve been
working on something for a long time, you get frustrated
and you do things you know are wrong. You think you
can sort it all out later. That your discovery will more than
justify what you’ve done.
“She sent you to us, and you became our first success. At
first we didn’t know why. I didn’t know why, but Buckley
did. I found out much later, and when I discovered what
they were planning to do to you during your last surgery, I
couldn’t let it happen.”
In the background I can hear people shouting and bang-
ing on the door.
“They’re coming for me now, Angel, and I can’t hold
them off any longer, but I’m going to level the playing field
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a bit. I want to give you the chance to survive that you
deserve. Do you know what a psychological trigger is? I
created it so we could ease you into your new skills when
the time was right. Once I say this word, you’re going to
be able to access all of your abilities. It may not seem like
much at first, but what our Velocius project gave you is a
huge advantage in battle.”
Battle.
I never asked to be in the middle of a battle. How could
Larry have done this to me?
My anger dissolves even before it’s fully formed as I
hear gunfire over the loudspeaker. I stand up, helpless. A
door bangs against a wall. Then a small explosion. Larry
is shouting. I can’t hear what he’s saying, something about
my mother’s name.
The PA goes dead.
Larry.
Larry, who saved me. I would have liked to meet him,
just once.
I hear Hodges’s voice now. “Angel, you need to come
upstairs and let us kill you. No more of this cat-and-mouse
stuff, darling. I’ll also be needing that data file. I know you
have it. I’m sure your little boyfriend must have given it to
you, and yes, of course, I know about him now. I’m sure
you don’t want anything to happen to him. But I will tell
you this, Angel: you’re going to have his blood on your
hands if you don’t do exactly as I tell you.”
I look at Thomas. He can’t even keep his head up any-
more.
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“I know that if you don’t get the pill you need to flush
the plasticizer from your system, you’re going to gum up
your brain. And I have them all. Or rather, I did, before
I popped them all with my heel. All except one. So here’s
the deal. You bring me the data files and I will give you the
pill you need and a five-minute head start. That’s my first,
last, and best offer.”
The PA cuts out. I feel numb, and lost, and confused.
What am I going to do? I try to think if I have any cards
left to play. I don’t.
And then I remember one thing. One small, pathetic
hope, probably no more effective than casting a message in
a bottle. But it’s all I have.
That external security feed. Someone has been watch-
ing all this time. What if it isn’t Claymore who’s been
observing me? What if it’s someone else? Who, I can’t
even imagine, but I’m about to place all my trust in that
person. It’s cruel to try to rouse Thomas, but I’ve got to. I
shake him, gently at first and then so hard that I’m afraid
I’m breaking his neck. “Thomas, I need two things from
you! I need you to turn on the feed!” I shout directly into
his face. “That external feed you were telling me about
before.”
Slap!
“Thomas!”
I’m about to slap him again when he grabs my wrist and
holds it. “What’s the second thing?”
“I’m sorry. I thought I was losing you.”
His eyes open to slits. “I’m still here. For you.”
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“What is it? What is the Velocius thing?”
“We should kiss now,” he says.
“Thomas, please.”
“No, I mean it. These tragic circumstances require it.
Plus, it’s the second thing on my bucket list: Kiss a bald girl.
You can’t say no.”
“I’m not going to be a tragic victim, and neither are
you.”
“Kiss me and I’ll tell you what Velocius is. What you
are.”
“That’s not fair.”
“I know. I’m a huge jerk.”
I kiss him quickly.
“That didn’t count.”
I growl. “Thomas, we don’t have time for this!”
“Kiss me like we have all the time in the world,” he
says lazily.
I lean toward him and kiss him again, softly this time.
“That’s a little better, but not much. Do it again.”
“I don’t have much practice with kissing.”
“That’s okay. I have some theories about what makes a
good kiss, if you think you’d like to hear them.”
“No. I don’t.” I put my hand against the side of his face
and close my eyes. I kiss him just like he asked me to, like
we have all the time in the world. Like this is the last good
thing that’s ever going to happen to me. Because in all
likelihood, it is.
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CHAPTER 34
efore I’ve even pulled back from him, he begins mov-
Bing his fingers across the keyboard, without opening
his eyes.
“I know you’re only kissing me for my mad hacking
skills, but that’s okay. I’ll take it.”
He opens a file, and I see that he’s showing me a doctoral
dissertation from MIT written by Joseph Purcell Wilson.
“I really don’t have time to read an entire book right
now.”
“Too bad. It’s interesting stuff.” Thomas’s voice is barely
a whisper now. “See, when people are under extreme
stress, they literally think faster. It’s why people say they
feel time slow down when they’re in a car crash or a similar
situation. It’s not that time slows down; it’s that your brain
speeds up. Amazing, eh?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
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“It’s not just that. You can push your body further, sur-
vive longer in extreme conditions—you can be stronger,
better, faster—all because your life is threatened. The only
trouble is, it only works when your life is truly in danger.
The brain kinda knows if you’re trying to trick it.”
“Okay. And?”
Thomas tries to sit up, but I make him lie back down.
He’s exhausted but somehow frantic at the same time. His
hands tremble as he points to the computer.
“Buckley wanted to figure out a way to replicate what
the body does in those rare moments of extreme stress.
But instead of the process being dependent on a near-death
experience, what if you could choose to turn it on and
off whenever you wanted? The government paid him a lot
of money to do further research. That’s what’s in all the
files I have on this flash drive. Top-secret research. That’s
the reason Dr. Wilson had his little accident and became
Dr. Buckley. They knew that if Buckley could pull it off,
figure out how to give soldiers this ability, it would change
the world as much as the atom bomb did. Imagine whole
armies of guys with the ability to think at hyperspeed, all
the time. That’s what this whole place was devoted to doing:
helping soldiers become better soldiers and then helping
them recover from being good soldiers who couldn’t hack
remembering all the brutality they dished out. Velocius and
Tabula Rasa were distinct research projects that got sort of
murkily combined at some point. Probably once Buckley
discovered that only certain kinds of people should be used
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as test subjects for the tabula rasa process, or else it didn’t
work so well. See Elmer, Sam, Jerry, and Sylvester for proof
of that.”
“Young people,” I say.
“Yes, that’s what they thought at first. That’s why they
started trawling juvenile detention centers for test subjects.
They said it would help them reclaim their lives, rebuild
their futures. It was the only way they could get anyone to
allow them to experiment. Most of these kids were wards
of the state anyway, and they had nowhere else to go except
jail, so why not give them a chance to fix their lives, right?
Makes perfect sense. And just about every kid they offered
this opportunity to jumped at the chance.”
“Maybe that’s why they were always telling us how
lucky we were, and that we should be grateful for this sec-
ond chance we were being given.”
Thomas squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, trying to
gather the last of his strength.
“I’ll jump right to it, Angel. They realized that the pro-
cess could work, but only on an undamaged mind. That’s
why it worked on you.”
“On me?”
“Buckley gave you this Velocius ability. The same stuff
that happens during an ‘I’m gonna die’ adrenaline rush.
But you can access it whenever you want.”
“But I can’t!”
I realize Thomas must have missed when Larry
explained the trigger mechanism.
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“But what about Claymore?” I ask. “What’s he got to
do with any of it?”
“I don’t know. He’s been putting money into this kind
of research for years. Claims he’s just trying to push the
frontiers of medicine, but who knows what he’s really
after.”
Thomas fumbles toward his jacket pocket. He takes out
the flash drive. “Take it and go. When you get far enough
away, destroy it. This is scary.” He opens his eyes and glares
at me. “You’re scary.”
“That’s right. I’m scary.”
“So scary,” he says, putting his fingers to my face.
He grabs the front of my shirt and pulls himself up
toward me. I lean closer and he kisses my bottom lip.
“That’s my theory, by the way,” he says.
“Your theory?”
“My kissing theory. You kiss one lip and then the other.”
He kisses my upper lip. “Then both at the same time.”
He gives me the kind of kiss Sleeping Beauty would
envy. Slow, sweet, full of promises that everything will be
all right because he will make sure I get my happy ending.
As I look into his eyes, I no longer feel not good enough.
I know this has nothing to do with me, and everything
to do with him. When someone looks at you like that, it
elevates you.
For a moment anyway. I blink, and all the good feelings
vanish.
“Take this and go,” he tells me again.
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I push the flash drive away. “After all this, you think
I’m just going to run off? I’m not leaving you here so that
woman can kill you.”
“You have to go.”
“Thomas, please.”
“She won’t kill me, Angel.”
“Of course she will!”
“I opened the file.”
“What file?”
“The ‘In Case Something Happens to Me’ file that
8-Bit left me. Didn’t even have to hack it. Her name was
the password.”
“Who’s name?”
“Evangeline.”
“I don’t understand. Why would—”
“Angel, she’s my mother.”
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CHAPTER 35
he room spins. Thomas turns away from me, arms
Tcrossed over his chest. He’s shaking from fever, and his
teeth are chattering.
Three times I try to speak before I can finally manage
to ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I told you I was adopted. 8-Bit came and got me eight
months ago. I’ve never met her, but some of the things he
told me before this job . . . they make sense now.”
“No,” I say as I back away from him. “There’s some
mistake. That can’t be right.”
“Look for yourself!” He tips his head forward. “See
that? My roots are showing. Red hair.”
I run my hands through his hair.
“She probably dyes her hair. Maybe she’s got gray hair,”
I say.
“Yeah. Maybe she dyes her hair the exact same color it
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