Escape to Eden (36 page)

I
’m in my father’s lab, a room I’ve never been in before. It’s in the basement of the old, rundown building, yet is the brightest, cleanest room I’ve seen. It has been strategically designed with all the modern conveniences. By my father, I have no doubts. It’s a much larger version of the lab he had in our home, right down to the lab rats in glass cages in the corner of the room.

“What are we doing in here?” Colt asks.

I turn around. His face has some color to it. Not because he’s feeling better, but because it took great effort for him to take the stairs getting here, though he’d never admit it. He casually wipes sweat from his brow like he gets it all the time.

“I wanted to show you my father’s lab,” I say. “He’s close to finding a cure for the Kiss.”

Colt picks up a nearby beaker and stares at the crimson fluid inside. “That’s what people have been saying for decades.”

I stare at the red liquid too as Colt swishes it around inside the glass. It’s probably blood, but I don’t want to think about it. I’m here for one purpose. I shake my head and say, “It’s for real this time. That serum I stole from the Institute has the ability to prolong a man’s life for at least another five years. My father believes he can use it to get rid of the pDNA, which will make man’s DNA become pure again.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” His eyes narrow. “Don’t think for a second I’m going to take an oDNA injection, especially not right now.”

His posture has become rigid. I’m going to have to proceed slowly so he doesn’t suspect.

“Of course not.” I walk to a nearby cot and sit down. “Will you sit with me?”

He remains still. “There isn’t time for this. We need to get you and Max out of here.”

“But there is time. Please. Just for a minute.” I pat the nylon material next to me. When he still looks conflicted, I add, “I need to tell you something important before we leave.”

This time he comes. He sits next to me, our legs brushing, igniting a warm chill across my skin. I close my eyes briefly and then open them. I don’t want to do this, but I can’t think of any other way.

Very slowly, I slide my hand over his. Air escapes between his lips as if I’m causing him pain.

“This world,” I say, “is all about illusions. Your cities are shiny and new, the people are beautiful, smart, strong, exceptional. It all seems so perfect. But who decided that this was perfection? There is nothing beautiful about perfection. It’s the flaws that give character, that give true beauty.”

I tighten my grip on his hand. “Have you heard of the Mona Lisa?”

“That was a painting the Institute destroyed decades ago, right?”

I think back to the replica that had hung in my room for as long as I could remember. “It was flawed, they said. In their eyes the woman wasn’t beautiful. They thought she represented everything wrong with Original humans. They had spewed this rhetoric for so long that no one cared when they finally destroyed Leonardo da Vinci’s greatest work. That’s what ‘perfection’ has brought this world. Apathy.”

I slide off the cot and move to kneel in front of him. A shiver passes over him, and at the same time I quiver, but I ignore the feeling. I have to. For in this moment, I can’t let myself feel. To save his life.

I continue, “People don’t want to see past the illusion, because once they do they will realize how rotten their world is. They will see the decay and death beneath their perfect cities; they will see how they are still imperfect despite their perfect appearance. And
this awareness will make them start to care again. Care to make things right.” I let go of his hand and raise my hand to his cheek. Very slowly, I brush my fingertips over the skin on his jawbone.

“I have seen past your illusion,” I say. “You are kind and gentle, loyal and brave. But you’re also stubborn, reckless, and temperamental.”

“I’m not—”

My thumb brushes over his full lips, silencing his protests. “All of this is perfection to me.”

I don’t mean to pause, but I can’t help it. I never realized how deep my feelings went for him until this moment. My hand lowers to his chest, where it rests just above his rapidly beating heart.

I finally look up at him. “You’re dying, Colt.”

I expect some kind of emotion on his face, but there is nothing.

“We all die,” he says, but when I open my mouth to speak, he adds, “but not all of us die at peace.”

It’s his turn to take my hands. There is no hesitation in his action.

“You speak of beauty,” he says, his eyes burning blue, “as if it actually exists in this world. I didn’t believe that until I met you.” He takes a breath. “You’ve made me feel things I never thought possible. It’s like my heart is beating for the first time, and even though I know my life is about to expire, I can say what most others cannot—that I will die happy.”

Warmness spreads through me, turns hot when his fingers caress the underside of my wrists.

“You don’t have to die,” I say.

“I’m not going to do anything until I know you and Max are on that island safely. Nothing else matters.”

The look in his eyes is firm. He will never stay. He would rather die. All for me.

I hate what I’m about to do, but I see no other way. Moving slowly, I let go of him and slide my right hand behind his neck to pull him toward me. Our foreheads touch first, and I pause. Colt nuzzles his head against mine. His mouth parts just barely, but enough that the breath escaping from his lungs warms my neck.

Don’t feel don’t feel don’t feel
.

He turns his head a fraction of an inch, and I turn mine. His lips graze my jawbone, slide softly to my chin. His hands trail up my bare arms, every fingertip igniting a fire beneath his touch. The burn goes bone deep, searing doubt and fear from my heart and mind, and I know I will never be the same. Especially when his lips meet mine.

His mouth moves slowly, carefully, as if he might shatter me, but when my lips part and I press hard to him, his kiss turns deep and desperate. The suddenness of it brings me back to reality. I have a job to do.

While we continue to kiss, I slip my left hand into my pocket and remove the syringe my father gave me. In one swift motion, I jab it into his neck and inject the medicine that will make him fall asleep within seconds. He jerks back, his eyes wide.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, “but I can’t have you die. It would kill me.”

He mumbles some sort of protest before his eyes close, and his head falls back.

I carefully lower him onto the cot and lift his legs until they are lying with the rest of his body. He is safe now. My father will give him the Institute’s serum, giving him at least another five years of life. It will be a life where he will most likely hate me, but I’m willing to take that risk. Besides, I may never see him again.

I lean over him and lightly kiss him on the forehead. “Goodbye,” I say. It’s the most painful word I’ve ever said.

U
pstairs Tank, Anthony, and Jenna are waiting for me, standing around a small table with papers scattered on its top. They stop talking and look at me expectantly.

“It’s done,” I say.

“Good,” Tank says. He hands me two small daggers. “You might need these. Do you know how to use them?”

I nod and slide one into each of my boots. My father taught me how to fight with knives, but it has been awhile. Hopefully, I won’t need them.

Jenna swings a backpack over her shoulder. “Maybe the new DNA serum will fix Colt’s face.”

“Not now, Jenna,” Anthony says and walks away.

We follow after him, down the hall and back into the room I arrived in. We are greeted by two men and one woman, all dark skinned. The woman is just as tall and muscular as the men. From behind I probably couldn’t tell them apart, but her feminine features, high cheekbones and pouty lips, give her away. All three have black hair with a single blue stripe down the middle. They are Dresdens, incredibly strong and skilled in combat.

My father’s there too, kneeling down and speaking to Max in a quiet voice. When he sees me, he straightens and comes over to me to give me a tight hug. He is cold and smells like chemicals.

“I’ll take care of Colt,” he says. “I promise.” When he releases me, he motions to the newcomers. “Meet Tori, Summa, and Rowdy. They will guide you to the Originals who will take Max and Sage to Eden.”

Anthony nods at them. They do the same back.

Tank slaps the nearest one on the back, Summa, I think, and says, “I didn’t know we had Dresdens on our side. Spectacular!”

“Don’t touch me again,” Summa says. He speaks with a beautiful accent.

Tank smiles and raises his hand as if they put a gun on him.

“Great,” Jenna says and crowds past me to exit the room. “More moody people. Bloody fantastic.” Anthony and Tank follow after her along with the Dresdens.

It’s only me, my father, and Max in the room now. I place my hand on Max’s small shoulder.

My father looks down at us, his expression a mix of emotions I can’t place. Is he worried about us? Is he anxious to get started on his work? I hate that I can’t tell. “Take care of Max, Sage. And take care of yourself. I’ll see you when I can.”

I wait for some type of emotion to come, but it doesn’t so I take Max’s hand in mine and leave.

The Dresden Tori drives us to the edge of the city where the shiny metal ends and the wild country begins. Trees, tall and wide, stretch and twist toward the sky. Beneath the canopy of trees, an endless darkness stretches on. It’s a darkness I’m familiar with.

Tori parks the vehicle. “We’re here. Everybody out.”

I do as she asks, taking Max with me. Before I have a chance to ask our location, the Dresdens disappear into the forest.

“They are the most boring Primes I’ve ever met,” Jenna says, her voice low. “I almost fell asleep in the car. Or died. I would’ve been happy with either.”

Tank rounds the backside of the vehicle. “I’ll pay you twenty dollars if you can get one of them to smile.”

“Deal.” She slaps the top of the car and hurries after the Dresdens.

“Let me know if you need any help with Max,” Tank says to me before he goes after her.

The path through the overgrown forest is well tread, sometimes dangerously so. Where it dips and turns, huge chunks of earth have slipped into steep ravines, and I have to inch carefully
just to stay on the trail. It brings me some comfort to know that so many Originals made this journey before me.

Max is clinging to my chest, my arms wrapped around him tightly. He’s been whimpering softly for the last ten minutes. It’s not a sound I’m used to.

“What’s wrong with him?” Anthony asks. He’s walking just behind me.

“I’m not sure. He’s upset about something.” I whisper encouraging words to him and caress the back of his head while my other arm holds him up.

“Maybe he misses Colt,” Anthony offers.

My chest tightens at his name, and I quickly push images of Colt to the fringes of my mind where painful memories wait to be forgotten. But I won’t forget. I will return for him, to see again the contours of his face, the way his eyes look into mine as if he might slip into them forever, and feel the way my skin ignites beneath his touch.

“It’s going to snow soon,” I say. Clouds crowd the sky in grays and blacks. It’s cold, but I’m much colder on the inside.

Up ahead, Jenna is trying to engage one of the male Dresdens in a conversation, but he’s having none of it, which I can tell is really bothering her. She keeps trying different topics from celebrity gossip to politics. Tank is behind her muttering and swiping at branches as he passes.

Everyone seems on edge. Even I’m feeling apprehensive, but I don’t know if it’s because of Max’s continuing whimpers or the fact that I’m moving to a new home with others like me, and I’m not sure if that’s what I really want.

It’s for Max, I remind myself and squeeze him tight.

As the day wears on, I begin to limp on my leg that was stung. There’s not much pain, but I just can’t get it to do what I want. It’s like the monster’s poison is still inside, threatening me even now.

Anthony offers to hold Max, but Max won’t let him, so I alternate between carrying Max and making him walk. By late afternoon, his cat-like protests have grown louder.

“Can’t you do something about that kid?” Tori calls. She’s several yards in front of us, standing to the side of the trail. Her skin
is stretched so tight over her high cheekbones that it looks like wax.

“Leave them alone,” Tank says.

Her waxy face chunks into a scowl. “How are we supposed to go unnoticed with that wailing?”

“How am I going to keep from driving my fist into your face?” Jenna says. She takes an equally threatening stance, even though she’s at least a foot smaller. Behind her, Tank chuckles.

Anthony pushes past me. “Enough. Max just needs a break. We’ll spend the night here and push on in the morning.” He unzips his backpack and begins to set up camp, giving them no time to argue.

“About time,” Jenna says, dropping herself onto a nearby tree stump. “Hey, Patch, we can tent together. It will be like old times. Except don’t ditch me this time. I like having you around.”