His Reboot Girl (Emerald City #3) (2 page)

Motion-activated lights flickered on, as we headed down a long corridor. Donny led the way, striding with clear purpose in every step. I hobbled behind, with Adele glued to my side. Nothing was familiar, yet my authentication had let us in. Did I work here? Passing a clock, I noted the time. Almost three in the morning. That would explain why the place was deserted.

“Here.” Donny waited at a door, and gestured to the security panel. “Do your stuff.”

The door was black, like all the others we’d passed, and the only marking was a number etched across the top. 420-1. What was different about this one? Again I placed my palm to the panel, and listened as the lock released.

Donny shoved the door open, and we followed. The lights were bright, and I winced, dropping my gaze for a second. This was a laboratory. Computer screens and keyboards littered long desks, and the walls were covered with densely packed shelves. I scanned the room. One side held a number of medical-style beds, each surrounded by computers and pieces of equipment I didn’t recognize. Or did I? Something lurked in my memory, just out of reach.

Behind me, I realized Donny and Adele had gone quiet. I turned slowly, and saw them poring over a computer screen inset into a bench top. They tapped the touch screen, intent on the data and ignoring me.

I needed a minute to myself. The bathroom door was just a few yards away. I sucked in a deep breath and made my feet move.

The face that stared back from the mirror was a mess. My collar length hair was matted and dirty, and bruises raked my face, along with more fine cuts and scratches. Another memory seeped in. My nickname had always been ‘Scarecrow,’ and now I looked like one—straw for hair, and a head full of stuffing.

A long, raw scrape ran from my right temple down to the top of my jaw. I touched it, curious as to why it didn’t hurt. It stung under my probing fingertips, and I realized why. The hospital had to have pumped me full of painkillers or sedatives, or something to dampen my neural responses.

My knees shook, and I sank onto the floor, my back to the wall. Fears crowded in, as though I’d given them permission to emerge. This wasn’t my life. It
couldn’t
be. A bomb on the Mag-Line? The breath jammed in my chest at the thought. What the fuck did I know about bombs?

Black spots danced in my vision, and I forced myself to breathe. In, and out. Slow and steady.

I had to start with facts. What did I know, as opposed to what I thought I knew? My name. The nurse had called me Scott. I’d had an accident of some kind, and landed in hospital. There was a head injury involved.
Another breath.

Adele said the police were going to arrest me. That I’d set a bomb and been caught in the blast. I dropped my head and rubbed the back of my neck, trying to ease the steady pounding in my head. I only had her word for both of these things, and my gut instinct screamed she was lying.

If she’d lied about those two things, it was entirely possible she wasn’t my girlfriend after all.

And if
that
was true, what was really happening?

A thump on the door broke my concentration. “Scott? You okay in there, baby?”

I licked dry lips and composed myself. “Yeah,” I rasped. “Out in a minute.” My throat hurt, but maybe a drink would help. I pulled myself up, cupped my hands under the tap, and gulped some cold water. The chill brought another wake-up moment. What should I do now? Play along with their story, while I tried to figure out the truth?

It was the best plan I had.

****

On my way back into the lab, it struck me that if there had been a bombing, it would be all over the news. Adele glanced up and caught my eye, but stayed with Donny. Did she really think I’d buy the story about them being siblings? It was as unlikely as the Mag-Line being bombed.

I settled at a desk close to the bathroom, and tapped the embedded screen to wake it up. Funny how I could remember some things, but not others. Moments later, I connected to the twenty-four hour news channel. The pretty anchor girl spoke rapidly, as screen after screen loaded with images. The rolling caption froze me in my seat.

Seventeen confirmed dead.

Images of a Mag-Line carriage, the entire side ripped out, as though a giant had tried to tear it in half.

Dozens missing.

The debris of what used to be a Mag-Line station. The designation plate was just visible in a pile of blocks and dust.

Emerald City West network closed until further notice.

I trailed my fingers across the screen. It was real. Somebody had bombed the Mag-Line. Not me. I couldn’t
do
that.

Footage of the bomber clearly captured on security cameras.

I couldn’t breathe.

It was me.

My world shrank to the screen in front of me. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the grainy image of my face. The same face that had stared back at me from the bathroom mirror just minutes ago.

The caption continued to scroll. Every word smashed into my head.

Scott Crowe. Bio-Scientist.

I had a surname. That seemed insignificant now.

If you see him, call the police immediately.

Considered dangerous. Do NOT approach.

If I hadn’t been sitting, I would have crumbled to the floor.

Death toll now: eighteen
.

Vomit rose in my throat, and I jabbed at the screen to switch it off. The images continued to swirl through my head. I felt the sensation of heat again. Immense pressure constricting my lungs. A roaring wave of noise that swept through my head. That must have been the blast. I was a pretty fucking useless bomber, if I couldn’t even get clear of the blast zone. I dropped my face into my hands. The pictures were relentless. Broken bodies. Blood, smeared across the remains of a seat. Officials ripping away the broken plas-crete blocks with their bare hands, in hopes of finding a survivor.

I’d done that. Dear God, who was I?

Taking a deep breath, I lifted my head and stared at Adele.
Did
I know her? When I’d touched her hair, I remembered doing that another time, but no, that’d been a different girl. Another blonde. That one had been shy, always hiding behind her hair.

The longer I sat here wallowing in emotion, the longer it would be before I had any answers, and right now, that was what I needed.

I pushed at the bench, and used it to steady myself as I stood. My head protested at the movement, a wave of pain blind-siding me, but I stayed upright. One wobbly foot in front of the other, I lurched across the floor to Adele. “What are you looking for?” My voice was ludicrously faint, so I dug deeply, to find something stronger. “You said this would help get my memory back.”

She tugged out a stool, and patted it with her hand. “Sit,” she murmured, her gaze fixed on the lines of code that scrolled off the inset screen.

“I’m not a fucking dog.”

This drew her attention. Wide eyes stared at me. “Baby, I just meant—”

“And
don’t
call me ‘baby.’”

Her mouth opened for a moment, then snapped shut. “I can see you’re upset.” She spoke slowly, carefully, as though to an imbecile. Or an invalid. “I think you should sit down,
Scott
, before you fall down.”

I curled my fingers into the edge of the stool, tempted for a second to do as she said.
Answers
, I reminded myself. “Tell me what you’re doing. Why we’re
here
.” I glanced at Donny, but he ignored me, his focus on the screen and a datapad at his side.

“Your optogenetics work.” Her smile looked genuine. “You were working on accessing parts of the brain—”

“Using flashing lights to activate and deactivate specific neurons,” I finished for her, the brain-fog clearing for a second. “And that will help, how?”

Adele sighed, and then reached out to touch my face. I steeled myself not to react to her cool fingers. “We don’t believe you set the bomb, but you might have seen who did. If we can get your memories back, you can prove your innocence.”

It sounded plausible. Maybe. I nodded toward the screen. “What are you looking for?”

“The vault with the right section of code.” Her smile was flawless, but I didn’t believe her for a second.

“This is taking too long.” Donny joined the conversation. He lifted his head and scowled at Adele. “You need to hurry.”

Irritation tugged her brows together, and her smile faltered. “Okay.” She spoke firmly to me. “You need to access your vault. We’re only in the shell data at the moment, and we need to be in the sub-structure before we can access the optogenetics records.” Her smile returned. “From there, we can find your triggers, and see if we can retrieve your memories.”

Knowledge flooded in, riding the wave of her glib speech. I’d set different visual triggers for everyone taking part in the user testing. That rang true, but I knew with a bone-jarring certainty, that I’d never included myself as a test subject.

“Scott”—Adele nudged my arm—“you’re going to log in now. It’s probably best if you don’t try to remember the authentication. Just let it flow naturally.”

The authentication was multi-level. I knew that. I’d created the security protocols, after all. I needed to tread carefully, find out what they knew, and then figure out how to get out of here,
and
clear my name. As a plan, it sucked big time, mainly due to the gaping holes. I’d play for time first.

I swayed on my feet, and grabbed at the bench as though for support. “I need to lie down,” I mumbled. “Don’t feel good.”

The look that flashed between Adele and Donny was loaded. She leapt to her feet and took my arm. “Come on. Ten minutes might help, and we can carry on searching a little longer without you.”

I let her lead me toward one of the beds, and accepted her help to lie down. My unsteadiness wasn’t completely faked. Every step sent a river of pain up my spine.

How badly was I injured? I pushed that fear down, and tried to lock it away. Closing my eyes, I balled my hands into fists and pushed them into my temples. Christ, my head hurt. Think of the blonde girl. Her shy smile. A name glowed in the distance.

Dorothy.

I dozed off, lulled by the murmur of conversation in the background, and the faint hum from the computer systems surrounding me. For the first time since my leaving the hospital—
since waking up
—my head calmed a fraction. If I stayed absolutely still, I could hold the pain at bay.

New images slid past me in the fractured mess that remained of my brain. Somebody making coffee for me, the way I liked it. Black and strong, with one and a half spoons of sugar. She pushed the cup along the counter to me, and then turned back to the chiller unit. She was naked underneath a white towel, her hair obscured by another, piled on top of her head.

“You caught me by surprise.” Her voice was low and husky, as though she’d just woken. “What brings you here so early?”

I know how to make it work
. The words had been on the tip of my tongue, but I’d held back, my mouth dry at the sight of the freckles adorning her pale skin. I’d been excited, intent on something, but it could wait. Ignoring the coffee, I’d stepped up behind her, my hands itching to close around those slender hips. I could almost taste her skin. “I wanted to see you,” I’d whispered.

A noise in the background pulled at my senses, and I cracked my eyes open, reluctant to leave my almost-dream. That must have been Dorothy.

“What the hell? You said nobody would be here.” Donny’s fury dragged me fully conscious again, and I stared across the lab.
What the fuck?

“I forgot the cleaning crew.” Adele sounded flustered. “Shit.”

A young woman stood in the open doorway, a utility cart stacked high with sprays and rags by her side. Her fingers clung to the cart handles, and her fear was tangible. What was she so scared of? “I won’t tell anyone.” She rattled out the words, her dark eyes wide and terrified.

I froze, unease trickling through every nerve. Swallowing down a groan, I sat up, and waited for the world to stop spinning before I eased down from the bed.

“Get in here. Now.” Donny grabbed her arm, and she cried out. I couldn’t tell if it was from fear or pain, or both. From this upright position, I could see Donny clearly. Holy. Fuck. He had a laser weapon pointed at the cleaning lady. “Are you alone?” He barked the question, and she trembled under the verbal blast.

“Yes.”

Adrenaline surged in my veins, and I forced myself to move. I tried to speak, but my throat was too dry to form any sounds.

“Fuck it. Adele, lock her in the closet if you have to, but get her out of here.”

I worked my way along the lab, leaning on one bench after another, while I found my balance. It was only a few yards, but it felt like miles.

Donny spun around to face me, the weapon pointing briefly at my chest. “Stay back, Scott,” he said, a warning in his voice.

The cleaner gasped. “
Scott
. Oh, my God!”

It felt as though the ground shifted beneath me. Our gazes met, and I knew her.
Really
knew her.

Everything happened in slow motion.

Donny whirled back to the cleaner, his weapon swinging in a high arc.

Her words sank in. She
recognized
me.

“Shut up,” yelled Donny. She opened her mouth to speak again, just as Donny’s weapon hit the side of her head. “I said, shut the
fuck
up.”

Her knees crumpled. Her eyes beseeched me, and she dropped to the floor.

I dragged in a tight breath and sank to the bright white tiles, by the motionless woman that lay there.
Please God, let her still be alive.
I almost didn’t dare to look for her pulse, but my fingers slid to her neck without my conscious thought, and I located a strong heartbeat. Relief made me dizzy. There was no blood, but she was out cold.

Adele caught my arm and pulled, but I shook her off. “Don’t touch me.” With care, as gently as I could, I guided the woman’s head to rest on my thigh. It would be softer than the floor.

Chaos reigned, but I ignored it. Donny yelled at Adele. She shouted back. The unconscious woman continued to breathe.

“Who are you,” I whispered. “How do you know me?”

Her eyelids flickered and opened. For a brief moment, warm brown eyes gazed at me, but then she was gone again.

The anger already simmering inside me was getting harder to suppress. I scowled at Donny. “What the fuck is going on?”

Adele cleared her throat. “We’re trying to prove your innocence. You know that.”

Yeah, right. “You’ve been lying from the minute you dragged me out of the hospital, haven’t you?”

“
No
.” She looked stricken, one hand fluttering on her chest, her eyes innocent. “Donny just gets carried away.”

“Try again,
baby
.”

For some reason, I’d assumed that Adele had been in charge. When Donny twisted her arm behind her back, making her cry out in pain, I realized my mistake.