Finding Fiona (17 page)

Part of it was attractive, not having to worry
about money. She bit her lip.

“
The health industry would be
revolutionized,” Greg continued. “Think about it. We could explore
all the possibilities of human replication. We could work together,
Fiona.” He held eye contact for a moment.

“
Work together?” she repeated. “You
just shot at my friends. You–” She shook her head. She doubted the
Alarias would ever let her live in freedom. She held the keys to
their fate, and they to hers.

“
You’re smart. That’s why your
parents let you in,” Greg said. “You should know how the world
would receive this.”

No one could predict how the world would
receive such a machine. It fascinated Fiona, but it worried her
more. It had already wreaked havoc, killing three people and
changing her life forever. “It’s too dangerous. What about all the
ethical issues?”

“
You sound just like your
parents.”

She shook her head; he didn’t care about the
morality of it. He’d set fire to her home in order to get the
codes. He didn’t understand the uncertainty, the fear of knowing he
may not be a true person. Not like Fiona did. “What about the
replicas?” she asked. “How would you explain to them where they
came from? How would you stop people from treating them like lab
rats?”

“
We’d find a way.” He waved a hand
as if he was swatting away a fly. “It’s miniscule in
comparison–”

“
Miniscule?” she repeated. “This is
someone’s life you’re talking about. Two lives, if you include the
original.”

“
Just like your parents,” he
mumbled, shaking his head. “We wanted to go public, maybe even
commercial. We wanted to be a part of history, and your parents
just wanted it for private research. Too many ‘ethical
complications.’ They were like snails.”

“
Is that why they pushed you
out?”

He nodded, his eyes on the road. “My sister
didn’t help, either.”

“
What do you mean?”

He didn’t respond.

“
Maybe they were just being
cautious.”

Greg shook his head. “Too
cautious.”

“
Why don’t you do your own research
and pursue it?”

“
We have been for years… but your
parents were invaluable. Especially your father–but it’s all in
your head. You don’t have access to it right now, but we could get
it back.” He glanced over at her. “We could pay for psychiatrists.
We could do neurological research.”

Fiona looked out of her window, letting out a
shaky breath. She wanted to remember more. Everyday, more came
back, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted everything. Of course what
he said was tempting, but she didn’t forget the gun he held in his
hand.

“
I am sorry,” Greg said. His throat
sounded constricted.

She looked at him in alarm.

His expression was blank, whatever emotion
he’d just had gone. “I told you the fire was an accident. I wasn’t
lying.”

She believed his regret, and she knew she had
to use it to her advantage. “You should just let me go,” she
whispered.

“
No.”

“
I don’t remember anything,” she
said, raising her voice.

“
You’re going to remember
eventually,” he said firmly. “You know the theory right
now.”

“
But not the details. Theory is
nothing compared to practice. I don’t have the right memories. And
what are you going to do, keep Hannah and Troy–I mean, Walter–while
you wait for my memory to return?”

“
I’m not letting you go,” Greg
said.

“
You killed my parents, and now
you’re going to try to ruin my life–”

“
I’m not ruining your life! This is
going to change it for the better. Now just be quiet.”

“
I’m–”

“
No, stop talking!” he yelled. He
waved his gun at her.

Fiona fumed, gritting her teeth. Maybe saying
he’d killed her parents was too much–though completely true. She
fell silent, looking out the window again and crossing her
arms.

The next few hours passed slowly. Eventually,
they passed signs for Mystic.

“
This is about where you crashed
the van,” Greg said, motioning to the exit. “Drove the van into the
barrier, ran down the off-ramp.”

Fiona watched the exit as they passed. What
would keep her from doing it again?

Hannah.

Greg said he wasn’t a murderer, but his
actions sent a different message. There was a small chance they
wouldn’t follow through with their threats, but Fiona wouldn’t risk
it until she was with Hannah. He was too unpredictable. She glanced
at Greg, whose revolver was now in the door.

As they approached signs for Boston, Fiona
realized how hungry she was. It was nearly ten thirty, a couple
hours past the time she usually ate breakfast. Fiona hesitated
before speaking again. “Is this where you were going to take me
last time?”

Greg nodded.

A few minutes later, Fiona asked, “Does your
sister know about the Remus project?”

“
Yes. Your parents were upset when
we told her about it.”

Her stomach stirred as she tried to piece
together a plan and the courage to carry it out. He had the gun,
but if she could grab it from him… and his phone… maybe it was too
much to risk. She wasn’t even sure they were going to Fillerton and
Company. He didn’t take any of the exits for Boston, but drove
through the congested areas and approached the east end of the
city.

When they got off the highway, Greg turned his
gun on Fiona. “Don’t think of doing what you did a year
ago.”

She bit back a remark. Now on the outskirts of
Boston, Greg drove through the streets, his gun pinned on her the
entire way. They finally drove through the gates of a tan building
with a large sign that read, ‘Fillerton & Company’. She didn’t
see much around–a car dealership to its left and a field on the
right. The building stood a couple stories high. Greg pulled around
back and parked near some garages. “I have plenty of four bullets
left,” he warned her. “Let’s go.”

Fiona stepped out of the car. Greg half-led,
half-dragged her to one of the garage doors. About two dozen cars
were parked in the front parking lot, but only a few back here.
Greg tapped on the metal door with his gun, and it rolled up. They
slipped under when it was halfway up, entering a garage large
enough for a couple of semitrucks. A gray, window-less van was
parked there.

Hannah was tied up next to a set of concrete
stairs leading to a door. She still wore the clothes she had on
earlier, her black slacks and red blouse. Her hair had fallen out
of its bun, and she had a swollen lip and a bruise forming over her
right eye. Fiona fought back her tears; she didn’t want to give
Greg the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She walked forward and
pulled the bandana out of Hannah’s mouth.

“
Oh, I’m so sorry,” Fiona said,
dropping to her knees and throwing her arms around her. “Are you
okay?”

“
I’m fine,” Hannah said
weakly.

Another man, slightly shorter than Greg,
approached him. He was older with lines of gray showing in his
hair. They talked in low tones. The man kept raising his voice, and
Greg quieted him repeatedly.

“
Is that Daniel?” Fiona asked
Hannah.

Hannah nodded.

“
What happened?” Frowning, Fiona
ran her fingers over Hannah’s bruise and blinked away more
tears.

“
He must have been following us; we
were hardly out of the car,” Hannah said. “Had a pretty good
struggle, but he ended up dragging me in here.”

“
What about Troy?”

Hannah let out a sob, and tears streamed down
her face.

“
Hey!” Greg called. “We’ve got work
to do.”

“
Where’s Troy?” Fiona asked,
standing up.

“
Who?”

“
Walter!”

Daniel cleared his throat. “Greg, I told you
this wasn’t a good idea.”

Greg silenced him with a glare before turning
back to Fiona. “He’s fine.”

“
I want to see him,” she
said.

Greg pointed his gun at Hannah, which made her
shrink toward the steps. “We’re going to the lab.”

He grabbed Fiona’s arm. She struggled for a
moment, but stopped when she saw Hannah sobbing.

“
They’ll find us out here,” Fiona
said. “They know your sister works here.”

Greg pulled Fiona up the stairs. “Dan, call
Sarah and see what’s going on.” He turned to Fiona. “If you try
anything, I’ll call Dan and he’ll shoot her.” Fiona swore there was
a tremble in his voice.

Dan showed her his gun without meeting her
eyes. She tried to make eye contact, but he turned away and got on
his phone.

Fiona glared at Greg, who motioned to the
door.

“
After you,” he said.

The hallway they entered had blue carpet and
cream walls with the occasional motivational poster. He led her
down the hall and knocked on the third door on the left. Fiona
glanced over her shoulder as they waited. The door opened, and the
woman from the website, Mary Alaria, greeted them. She had brown
hair pulled back into a tight bun, her eyebrows drawn up toward her
forehead.

They walked into a lab with bright lighting.
“How’s Dan?” Mary asked Greg.

“
A pain in the ass.” Greg motioned
to Fiona. “Show her what you have.”

The white countertops were arrayed with
microscopes, different liquids, sinks, and a few notebooks. A
fridge stood by the door. Fiona tried to discern what she could use
as a weapon. She had to get out of here. She knew they couldn’t
keep Hannah hostage forever. What were their plans for Fiona? Were
they actually going to wait until she remembered everything? Send
her to a psychiatrist? The situation couldn’t hold forever. They
could get rid of Hannah at any time.

Mary walked to the whiteboard, which had an
array of equations and underneath those, a few unanswered
questions, ones Fiona herself had while working on Remus yesterday.
Mary moved her hands expansively as she spoke about the machine.
They only had the beginning of it, though, and Fiona had run into
the same problems. They were missing too much
information.

“
I had the same questions,” Fiona
said, approaching the whiteboard. She needed to stall.

Mary had a keen mind; it didn’t take long for
Fiona to explain things to her. She was shorter than Fiona, but
looked thicker. She might be stronger too if it came down to a
fight. As they were talking, Fiona noticed a chair next to the
door. Wiping her sweaty palms on her pants, she tried to remember
if the door opened inward or out. It was out; she was almost sure
of it.

She explained to them what she knew, leaving
out what she could. Her mind raced. James and the others couldn’t
be far. They had to guess he’d be coming here. Or they had to at
least call the police and tell them, replication device or no. She
knew they wouldn’t leave her behind. She wasn’t sure how much time
it gave her, though. If she could lock Mary and Greg in here, she
thought she’d be able to persuade Daniel to let her and Hannah go.
It would only be minutes, but they could run to the front office
and find help.

Greg’s phone rang. He stepped away from the
whiteboard to answer it. “Dan? Yeah… okay, good… she’s not acting
up?” He paused. “Good, we’ll be down there soon.”

Fiona crept toward one of the countertops. The
moment Greg hung up, she picked up one of the microscopes and hit
him across his face with it. He yelled, fell backward, and dropped
his phone.

Mary grabbed Fiona’s hair and
yanked her back. Fiona screamed, struggling for a moment. She
struck out, hitting Mary in the face and kicking her in the shin.
Mary let go, and Fiona ran to the dish of sulfur
she’d seen earlier. She flung it into Mary’s face
before she could grab her again. Mary darted away, screaming as her
hands flew to her eyes.

Fiona dove for the phone. She turned to run to
the door, but as she passed Greg, he grabbed her leg. Losing her
balance, she fell hard on her hip. His fingernails broke skin as
she struggled against him. She kicked him in the face and stumbled
to her feet.

When she saw him reach for his gun, she ran to
the chair, dragged it to the door, and pulled it out into the
hallway with her. She propped the chair up under the doorknob. A
gunshot came through the doorway, hitting the metal of the chair.
She gasped and took off running down the hallway, limping from her
fall. She flung doors open, but all the rooms were empty. Behind
her, the door began to rattle, and someone pounded on
it.

She dialed 911 on Greg’s phone and ran for the
garage.

* * *

Chapter Eleven

When Fiona entered the garage, Daniel was
sitting on the steps. He quickly stood up when the door opened.
“What are you doing?” He took out his gun.