Cheating Time (12 page)

I stood behind Mom while she took a handheld
device and scanned it over Jayden's chest and then his retina. Once
it identified him as Jayden Thomas St. Romaine, she pulled from the
back of the device a tiny wireless keyboard, and a few keystrokes
later, she had the device's hologram spinning above the scanner. My
gaze followed hers.

At first, there was a green luminescent dot
within the scene, which happened to be the middle of a
geographically accurate aerial view of the farm and its
surroundings. There was no doubt in my mind that the shot was
real-time because of the darkness and because I saw the hoe I'd
left out of place and against the chicken's cage before supper the
night before.

Beside me, Mom stared on intently. After a
flash of red so quick I questioned its existence, she began
counting down.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

As soon as the word
one
left her mouth, the green dot representing
Jayden disappeared. Mom's exhalation was loud enough for me to
assume she'd had some doubts that she'd be able to block Jayden's
MicroPharm from Barone's view.

If she was worried she was
going to have trouble, how in the world does she expect me to be
able to block anyone from being tracked?

The task felt intimidating and daunting. I
prayed that I'd never be put in a position where I'd have to do
such a thing.

Everything about what she'd just done—what
Dad had burdened him with—had Jayden on edge. His nerves were so
tight and he was so revved up I suspected I could reach over and
pluck him like a guitar.

As soon as Mom packed up the device and
handed it to me, I realized it was time for us to leave, and again,
I wondered if I'd ever see my parents again.

After hearing Jayden's comments about death
by firing squad being a very real option for Dad, I wondered how
long it would take for President Barone to convince the world that
my loyal father was a traitor. Barone's need for Mom, regardless of
her mental health, and her knowledge would be the only thing saving
either of them. I hoped and prayed for his sake—
for all of our sakes
—she held it together.

With the scanner in hand, I threw my arms
around Mom's shoulders and hugged her as if for dear life. Tears
pricked my eyes.

"Stop acting like this," she admonished.
"We're going back to the capital. Once we've taken our medicine and
know it's safe, we'll contact Jayden. We'll be back together soon
enough."

Mom sounded as if she believed what she was
saying, because that was what she needed in order to go through
with our plan to separate.

I nodded. "Don't forget to take some of
Elle's tea with you."

My voice was thick with the tears I refused
to shed.

"I will," she assured me and kissed my
forehead long and hard.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Dad and
pulled him into our hug.

His voice was as hoarse and crackly as mine
when he said, "Jayden. He's going to need you, Carlie. Help him as
much as you can."

"I will, Dad. I promise."

From the barn door, Jayden interrupted our
good-byes. "Sir, we need to get going."

Dad kissed the top of my head before pushing
me from our hug and gently nudging me toward Jayden, who was
holding the barn door open. Nothing about our futures was certain,
but that door unquestionably held promises of a life unlike
anything I'd ever known, planned for, expected to encounter, one
without my parents.

Ignoring my dread and apprehension, I
dropped the scanner in my backpack, threw it across my shoulder,
and headed toward my destiny. Jayden held the door open for me as I
passed through. Tawney and Gran—filled with trepidation so deep it
was palpable in their wake—followed close behind me. We all jerked
with a start when the door separating us from my parents
closed.

The night's darkness coupled with the
deafening cacophony of nighttime chirps, hoots, and croaks put me
on high alert. Thinking about my parents was no longer a luxury any
of us could afford.

Surrogate Soldier St. Romaine was back, and
it was going to take everything I had in me to keep up with him and
not get myself killed as we maneuvered our way through the dark
forest's terrain in the middle of the night.

* * *

It had been hours since we'd left the barn
at the Coxes' farm. The dawn had come and gone, and the sun was
sitting high up in the sky. We'd been tracking our way through the
woods for at least eight hours. I was craving a drink of water in a
way I'd never craved anything in my life, but I refused to show the
first sign of weakness.

The late spring day, its unseasonal heat,
and its one hundred percent humidity were stifling. The sweating
caused by the toxic combination only made me thirstier.

Like me, Tawney had her light-brown hair
pulled up in a tail and its loose ends worked into a ball and piled
onto the top of her head. The strays were caked onto her cheeks and
forehead and dripping wet. As I watched a bead of sweat trickle
from a strand of hair, over her brow, and into her eye, I
instinctively wiped my own brow.

My cousin had always been frailer than me.
Her weaknesses were invisible to anyone looking in from the
outside. It was the people within our circle of trust who knew and
understood how hard it was for her to keep up when we hiked long
ways or for long periods of time.

During our years of survival training,
Jayden had always gone out of his way to keep an eye on Tawney and
pretend as though he needed rest breaks so she wouldn't have to ask
for them… so she wouldn't collapse beneath his unrealistic
expectations.

The fact that he'd not stopped the first
time or catered to Tawney's frailty by slowing down the tiniest bit
was a reminder of just how much danger we were in. Pure adrenaline
was all that had kept us going this far and this long.

When Tawney took a stumble, one that she had
a hard time coming up from, anger lanced through me.

I stopped next to her, offered my hand, and
yelled in Jayden's direction.

"She needs to rest!"

He was so lost in his world that I'm not
sure he would have ever noticed that he'd lost his entourage if I'd
not said anything. Shaking himself from his daze, he looked behind
him, toward us, and furrowed his brow.

Tawney saw Jayden's disappointment as he
looked down at his watch, one that was doubling as our navigation,
and sighed.

"I-I don't need to rest, Jayden. I can keep
going," Tawney said weakly.

Visually, Jayden performed a critical
assessment of my cousin and nodded his head. "Carlie's right. We've
gone long enough. Everyone needs a break."

Gran didn't wait for any more permission. He
dropped down next to a log and leaned his head back, closing his
eyes and looking like he'd just sprawled out on a luxurious bed of
feathers instead of a hard ground covered with moldy bracken.

Tawney and I quickly followed his lead. As
soon as I was off my feet, I understood how Gran could look so
contented. My feet throbbed in relief to be weightless and still. I
wasn't sure I'd ever be able to get my shoes back on if I took them
off or I'd have done just that and massaged the arches, balls, and
heels of my feet.

With the respite we'd been granted, every
muscle in my body relaxed in gratitude. I could barely breathe much
less move or speak. At least, that was what I'd sworn until Jayden
pulled from his backpack four bottles of water. As soon as I saw
them, I contemplated leaping over Tawney and Gran and snatching all
of them from his hands. I was sure I could drink every last drop in
all of them and still be thirsty.

Jayden saw how thirsty we were and tossed
one to each of us. I caught mine and had it downed within a minute.
As I'd suspected, I greedily wanted more, but I was sated enough
and lucid enough to know I'd had all I needed.

As if Jayden were superhuman, he stayed
upright and protectively walked circles around us. He, making me
hate him more than ever, looked like he could hike another eight
hours and never break a sweat.

If he hadn't been glancing nervously in the
direction from which we'd come, I'd have thought he was calm and
casual as ever. It was then I admitted to myself that nothing was
as it seemed with Jayden.

When Jayden mentioned Isaiah earlier, I'd
known exactly whom he'd been referring to. I'd met the Surrogate
Isaiah Manniless several times. Every time, Isaiah had leered at me
like he was as desperate to be with me as I'd been for water a few
minutes ago. The last time, the only time Jayden had been around,
he'd eyed me with that curled-lip smirk, and Jayden had gotten in
lots of trouble with Dad.

"I'm here because your father and President
Barone told me to wait here," Isaiah had informed me after he'd
scared me nearly to death when I'd run into him wandering
uninhibited and unannounced through my house.

I'd just returned from school and hadn't
expected anyone to be home. Finding him had been more than just a
little frightening. Once my racing heart had slowed, I'd walked
toward the kitchen. "Would you like to have a snack? I'm starving,"
I'd said over my shoulder.

He'd followed behind me and said,
"Sure."

I'd assumed that while I stepped into the
walk-in pantry to retrieve a snack meant to tide me over until
supper, Isaiah would wait where he'd been standing near the island.
Rather than do that, he'd followed me into the rather small pantry
and studied the options himself. I'd pretended to ignore him, but
his proximity made that nearly impossible.

"How about some pita chips and hummus?" I'd
finally asked.

When Isaiah didn't respond, I glanced back
at him. He was staring—
leering
—at
me, studying me much more intently than either of us had studied
our snack options.

"Do you know how pretty you are, Carlie?"
he'd asked.

Glancing away, I'd shrugged and tried my
best to act as though he and his question hadn't made me
uncomfortable.

"Pita chips and hummus it is," I'd sung,
grabbing the chips, attempting to squeeze my way out of the
pantry.

Isaiah had put his hand on the doorframe,
blocking my exit.

"You're the only Procreate girl I've ever
met who doesn't treat Surrogates like they're less than them," he'd
mumbled after leaning into my ear.

"I reserve the right to treat all assholes
as if they are less than me. Other than that, I don't believe
there's any difference between Procreates and Surrogates. We all
have hearts, souls, and the facilities to know and understand the
difference between right and wrong," I'd said, hoping honesty would
gain me passage out of the pantry.

"Yeah. That's what I mean. You treat St.
Romaine as if you actually consider him your equal."

I rolled my eyes. "Isaiah, I've seen you at
the ice cream parlor. You always have several girls hanging off
your arms and onto your every word."

"They see a pretty face they'd like to date…
maybe even roll around in the hay with a time or two. They don't
see me as a long-term option. You're not like them. St. Romaine is
one lucky son of a bitch," he'd whispered close enough to my ear
that I could feel the warmth of his breath.

Swallowing my fear, I'd pulled back and
said, "You do know Jayden, right? I'm not his equal because he has
no equal. My goal in life is to be half the person he is."

Isaiah closed what little distance there was
between. "He has an equal. It's me. There's nothing he can do that
I can't do better. The only thing he has that I don't have is you…
a Procreate who'd put his wellbeing before her own."

I'd put my hands on Isaiah's chest and said,
"I'm not here to debate who is the better fighter. I can tell you
that you seem to have the wrong impression about Jayden and me.
We're like brother and sister. Not boyfriend and girlfriend."

Isaiah put his hands over mine, imprisoning
them to his chest.

"That's all the better. He won't give a shit
if you and I hook up, and hook up is what I'd love to do with you,"
he'd said before leaning over and kissing me on the lips.

I'd been too shocked to move out of the way,
to stop the kiss, to do anything but stand frozen in my spot while
he'd kissed me thoroughly, sliding his hands around to my back and
pulling me into him.

One minute he'd been kissing me. The next
he'd been sprawled out on the kitchen floor, holding his bleeding
nose and glaring up at a very angry Jayden who'd been standing over
him and looking as if killing him was a very real possibility.

Before I could reason with Jayden and let
him know Isaiah hadn't harmed me—
not
really
—Dad and Barone had come barreling into the
kitchen. Since neither man had known about the kiss and I'd been
too embarrassed to mention it, there was an assumption that Isaiah
and Jayden's long-standing rivalry had finally escalated to the
point of brutality.

"JAYDEN ST. ROMAINE! I won't have fighting
in my house or in front of my daughter. Apologize to Soldier
Manniless and retire to your quarters. I'll meet you there later,"
Dad had seethed.

Hating to see Jayden in trouble for doing
nothing more than coming to my rescue, I'd stepped forward. Jayden
shook his head, silently pleading for me to stay quiet.

Before I could say the first word, he'd
bowed elegantly toward Isaiah and said, "Please forgive me,
brother. I should not have lost my temper like that."

Just like he was today while pacing around
Gran, Tawney, and me, he looked calm, cool, and composed. The exact
opposite of what he'd been when he'd snatched Isaiah off me,
punched him in the face, and threw him to the kitchen floor.