daynight (25 page)

I passed three guards without incident, they having ignored me after seeing my uniform. The fifth guard required some horse tranquilizer and a good kick in the ribs. I felt bad for sharing needles between the two guys but didn’t want to waste any, not knowing for sure what lay ahead. Number six weighed at least two eighty, so I got out the new needle for him and gave him a half dose, and even with that he broke three of my fingers, a rib, and dislocated my left shoulder before he got woozy. I gave myself four minutes to recover and assess my wounds before proceeding. I searched my victim’s pockets. He had a passkey on him, which I used to enter the building.

My dad had purposefully kept me out of the basement area, so that I’d have to improvise and find my way up six stories to the data center. I wasted many precious moments sorting through all the crap before finding a doorway blocked by a bookcase stacked with file boxes. I unloaded the bookcase before inching open the door and climbing the staircase.
 

I didn’t expect much activity upstairs given the off-hour, but my dad was roaming the halls of floor five in attempt to block my success. The anesthetic worked magic on him and his passkey worked magic on the lock to the data center. Not knowing how long he’d be out, I quickly located what I needed—which was a trophy my father had hidden—and reversed my path out of the building and through the tunnels. Carrying a large shiny metal object past the other guards gave my disguise away, so I’d had to deal with the three remaining guards by giving a third dose to one, and quarter doses to the other two. Using the trophy as a weapon compensated for my injuries, and I was able to get back to my ‘house’ with only a few extra cuts and bruises.

Exhausted and in extreme pain, I waited out my dad who finally arrived an hour later to give his usual verbal thrashing, but at least he popped my shoulder back into place and let me get a few hours sleep. Despite the extended lecture to the contrary, I could tell he was impressed I’d found, stolen and used the drugs to my advantage.
 

The day after, I returned to school to start my junior year, still injured. I hid the cuts, bruises and breaks beneath a baggy hooded flannel, not wanting to have to spew lies to cover for them. After that, I left the hood on and let myself go until now, my hair growing long and shaggy, my interactions with others less frequent, my disgust for my dad at an all time high.
 

My dad wants to have a conversation,
so my immediate task is to figure out a legitimate reason for visiting that beach. Perhaps if I could get Kira to ride with me, we could find an excuse to have a pretend romantic picnic there one sunset or sunrise? Any plan will require her help and even though she’s forgiven me for my failure to disclose, and admitted she has feelings for me, I have no freaking clue where our relationship stands or if she still has my back now that she knows my mission.

I guess I better ask.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.

Edgar Allen Poe

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Kira

Even though our conversation warrants completing, I march towards the gym as an obedient Recruit should do.
The look on Blake’s face when I told him I imagined my whole future revolving around him… priceless. Guys don’t react well to going zero to sixty on the emotional front in a relationship. They’ll go from ‘hello to sex’ in 5.5 seconds flat, but ‘you suck to I want to marry you and have your babies’ and that’ll cause them to sprout wings and fly away at supersonic speed. Blake clearly is inexperienced in the relationship front, because instead of running he got the whole deer in the headlights expression and for a moment I might have caused an aneurysm.
 

Speaking of aneurysm close calls—when I believed I had Cleaved to Tristan I truly did panic. Blake really did a number on me. Then I out-gamed the gamer with my spectacular performance. And it was going perfectly until I decided to seal the deal with a kiss. And he kissed me back. Really kissed me. In a completely turned on kind of way that made me think he wants to drop the ‘fake.’ Not that I let him know I agreed the kiss was hot. After his ‘joke’ he gets no ego stroking.

Then things got blurry really fast the moment Blake mentioned a tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed Intern named Ethan who’s here on Thera. It can’t be a coincidence given my sightings and hearing his voice. If he’s here, why has Blake run into him ‘a couple times’ and he’s managed to avoid me entirely? Blake said the Ethan he met was ‘really into a girl he met at a party.’ The same longing I’ve felt for months returns in force at the thought it was my Ethan and he might have meant me. If he liked me enough to consider marriage, kids and old age by my side, why would he avoid me? And guys accuse girls of playing games.

“Hold on,” I hear from behind, as Blake grabs my hand, caressing it until I meet his gaze.

“We’re late,” I protest.
 

“I know. I just have to ask you a couple things. First, is my mission really your mission now? Are we still partners and do you still have my back?” Committing to this will put my life in danger. But, my life and future are already at risk, as is Blake’s, and I’ve already decided our futures are tied, like it or not. His eyes intensify in purpose as he awaits my answer.

“Yes. I’ll cover for you while you do your whole try to take down the bad guy thing,” I respond. “I really do want off this rock.” He closes his eyes, lifts his head upward, and clasps his hands together for a moment, before staring at me again.

“Thank you,” he says. “Because I don’t know if you noticed that flare a minute ago, but that means my father has arrived and will be eagerly awaiting an update on how my mission is progressing.”

“That firecracker thing?” I ask, remembering vaguely a small blast and light in the sky, higher than the canyon lights, yet not a star. He nods. So, his dad’s here to put on the pressure, which means whatever he’s got planned is a ‘sooner rather than later’ kind of thing. Great if successful, potentially disastrous if not. “So, when will you fill me in on the plan?”

“From now on, every bit of canyon time will be devoted to it,” he says. “I have so much to tell you.”

“Yes you do have a lot of explaining left to do,” I answer. He twitches at my jab.

“My last question is… where do we stand? Are we resuming our quote-unquote ‘relationship,’ or what?” he asks. I know to complete Blake’s mission we will need the canyon time, but I’m hesitant to define our relationship given the complicated nature of my feelings towards him and the news about Ethan. It takes a couple deep breaths to be able to answer.

“For public appearances, sure, we can resume our, as you put it ‘quote-unquote relationship,’ but it’s going to remain fake.” He looks disappointed.

“What about that kiss?” he asks.
 

“What about it? You’re on a mission to take down the SCI, not on the freaking Bachelor. We keep up the ruse so we get our canyon time, but the PDAs going to be kept to a minimum,” I respond.
 

“Surely after they observed that kiss, the powers that watch are going to expect more of the same. An escalation even,” he says, leaning into my ear. My breath hitches a smidgen and I hope he didn’t notice my body’s betrayal.

“You guys have about two minutes to get into the gym,” Bri yells. Saved by the yell. Thank you, Bri.

I look Blake right in the eyes with my best sultry look that used to get Tristan all hot and bothered. “In. Your. Dreams.” And then I turn and run.

“You look absolutely freaking Cleavable,”
Blake says as I enter the living room in full party attire. We’ve been summoned to an all night to early morning dance-a-thon on the football field, mandatory for all students freshman and up, and so I’ve squeezed into my tiny tube top and skirt to appease the powers that be. I even dusted myself with Industrial City Party Sparkles and look like a human disco ball. Thankfully I’ve had a week off from clinic visits so my abdomen is flat and firm, the swelling from my surgery gone.

“You look like a 70s movie extra,” I respond. He looks ridiculous in his party vest and pants. The SCI has no issue killing off a whole party full of teenagers, but can’t give a single decent fashion designer a second chance? “Ready to get your groove on?”

“Absolutely,” he says. “Happy to show you my moves.” He pulls me close and grinds against me. The last couple weeks have been absolute torture as Blake seems hell bent on getting a repeat of that kiss. Sure, we’ve spent a lot of time discussing his mission in the canyon, but I’ll be darned if he hasn’t figured out how to discuss the SCI and their evil minions with bedroom eyes. But I’ve also seen him use the same look on Bailey and vice versa. So, I haven’t given him more than a couple chaste pecks to keep our cover.

“You,” I say poking him on the exposed part of his chest, “have become Testosterone’s poster boy.” He twirls me around and laughs.

“Ready to go?” he asks with a smirk. “I know how much you love parties.”

“Why? You going to drug me?” I ask.

“Despite how hard you’re trying to resist me, I know you want me, even without the drugs,” he jokes.

“Yep, I’m right behind Bailey in line,” I say and pull him out the door. I need some fresh air. I’m quite conflicted. Sure, I haven’t been able to forget that kiss. But after hearing from Blake that an Intern named Ethan was in the city, I can’t take things further. Blake thinks I’m playing hard to get, and Bailey thinks Blake’s playing hard to get. Though the more Bailey plays ‘easy,’ the more he seems to be softening to her advances. Despite the fact he’s been all over me.

I need to find Ethan and figure out what his deal is. I cornered Spud to ask whether he could get me in touch with him, but he told me that he’d do no such thing and that I should just focus on my own assignment. He didn’t, however, refute Ethan’s existence, so I’m as curious as ever about where he’s hiding and why. And how he’s here on Thera. If he has high enough DNT to cross over could that mean his being at that party wasn’t a coincidence? The thought sends shivers down my spine.

Spud scored Blake a scooter that’ll fit us both, so I’ve learned to close my eyes and hang onto Blake for dear life while he maneuvers us through the canyon paths at high speed. The pleasant breeze created outweighs the threat of injury, since walking the dark canyon in one hundred ten degree plus temperatures only results in sweat. The ride takes less than two minutes by scooter, so we’re at the dance quickly.

Teens litter the football field, dancing to some new age crap that sounds like it belongs as the soundtrack to the canyon light show. At least it’s music, I think. When I see Tristan eyeing me in my skimpy attire and licking his lips, I pull Blake in to dance with me.

“I like you in your skimpy party swag,” Blake jokes. “You really move well in it.” I push away and do a back handspring and flip to a split that gets everyone’s attention. “That’s what I’m talking about,” he says, pulling me up and into a tight embrace.
 

We dance in a large group for an hour, rotating between slow and sweet, fast and crazy, and sheer athleticism. While Bailey pulls Blake off for a private dance that looks more like a strip-tease, I teach a line of girls several dance routines I know from cheer to tamp down my jealousy. My subjects eventually burn out and collapse into the arms of TB-enhanced boys.
 

“You’re losing him, frigid minute by minute,” a teebed out Bailey whispers into my ear. I turn to face her.

“He’s been all over me lately, Bailey. Not all guys are into the ‘I’m so teebed that I’ll gladly spread my legs for you’ thing,” I snap.

“Little kitten Kira tries to have some bite, eh?” she says. “Well, my dear little promo for purity… what do you think has had Blake so hot and bothered these days? Surely, you don’t think that one kiss you shared in the canyons did it, do you? Blake and I have had a… lot… to debate lately and he’s been so… receptive to my arguments. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Whatever, Bailey,” I say. “If he wants your brand of skank, he and I aren’t meant to be anyways.” I push through the crowd to escape her. Unbelievable. But then again, her case makes sense. Every time Blake returns to me from a conversation with Bailey, he’s more aggressive about ‘giving the powers that be a good show’ than usual. If he’s so into her, why’s he still pursuing things with me?

I continue my brisk walk across the football field until I run straight into Blake.

“Where have you been?” he asks.

“Discussing your imminent Cleaving with Bailey,” I say.

“Like that’s going to happen,” he says, though he refuses to meet my eye.

I glare at him and hope he can feel the heat, even if he can’t see it. “According to Bailey, the only reason you’ve been so amorous with me as of late is because she’s done such a good job of getting you worked up… and you guys just haven’t had a chance to seal the deal yet.”
 

Blake grabs me around my waist and presses his body to mine and whispers in my ear, “I have some rather bad memories of Bailey from my time back on Earth. You have nothing to worry about.” The crowd considers Blake’s move to be foreplay and shouts, “Cleave, Cleave, Cleave.”

“Raise my bet to thirty berries that they’ll Cleave off after the dance,” Bri says to Tristan. When she says ‘they’ she means Blake and me. Bri and Tristan have been dancing next to us, as have Lucas and his new squeeze, Brooke. Bri adds, “They’ve been downright gooey since they got back together. Have you ever seen two kids more in love?”

“We heard that,” I yell back. “It’s a good thing you don’t value your berries.” Bri started a Theranberry pool to predict our Cleave date, and I believe everyone over sixteen (with the exception of Bailey) has entered since berry season ends soon. It’ll be a long summer for those without good stock. Bri bounces over to Blake and me, dragging Tristan along.
 

“Come on guys. Help me out,” Bri says, eyes twinkling. Her usually heavy makeup is doubled and particularly sparkly tonight, the effect being pretty sultry and I wonder if she’s going to make a play for a Cleaving of her own with Tristan by morn. She pleads with Blake, “My summer party schedule depends on you. Blake, how can you possibly resist her dressed like that?” Tristan scans me, thinking he’s safe holding Bri from behind, but Bri’s sixth sense kicks in and she grinds her heel into his foot and Tristan whimpers like a dog.