Future Shock (14 page)

12:27

For a heartbeat all I can do is stare at the car, but then my reflexes kick in and I start running. We took too long with Dr. Walters. I should have been checking my watch more and not asked so many questions. I should have made sure we got out sooner.

The car isn’t far, parked in a lot next to the retirement home. But the police are already on foot, chasing after us. “Freeze!” they yell again.

We make it around the building, but then I hear Trent cry out behind me. I’m tempted to keep running, to leave him behind, but I turn around. One of the cops has hit him with a baton and brought him to his knees. While the second cop approaches, the first one smashes Trent with the baton again. He flattens against the wet cement, eyes bulging. He’s frozen stiff, unable to move. The baton must be electrified or something.

Cop number two pulls out a thin pair of handcuffs. Which means we’ve lost Trent—maybe forever if he can’t get back to the aperture in time. Unless we do something.

“Go!” I yell at the others. I leap on the first cop, surprising him, and rip the baton from his hand. I slam it into his helmet as hard as I can and shove him against the wall. He bounces off and then hits the ground, his armor smacking against the sidewalk.

He won’t be down for more than an instant, and the second cop is already reaching for his gun. They’re wearing full body armor, so I’m not sure where to hit them. I know this is probably a losing battle anyway. But it feels good to fight. It reminds me I’m still alive. I grip the baton tighter in my hand.

From the ground, Trent kicks at the second cop’s leg, distracting him. I spring forward, bringing the baton down on a spot between the cop’s shoulder and his arm, where the armor looks weaker, probably to allow for movement. He instantly jerks and falls to the ground.

The other cop is back on his feet and smashes into me before I can react. He slams me into the wall, pinning me with his heavy armor. My forehead bangs against the concrete, hard, and for a moment everything goes dark. Pain screams along my temple and into my skull.

Instinct starts to take over. I have to fight. I have to get away, no matter what the cost. I won’t be a victim ever again.

The cop grabs me, yanking my arms back. His big, gloved hands bite deep into my skin.

Big mistake.

Fear and anger, my oldest friends, explode inside me. A red haze clouds my eyes as I fight back against the cop. I yank my arms free and spin around. I kick. I punch. I bring the baton down, again and again and again.

“Elena, stop!” Arms wrap around my waist and pull me back. I struggle, ready to kill whoever is touching me now. But this touch doesn’t make me flinch. The familiar voice shouts my name again and breaks through my fury.

Adam.

I blink and my vision clears. Sweat and rain cling to my face and hair. Both cops are on the ground. Neither one move.

Oh my God, what have I done? I’ve
killed
them.

No, they’re both alive. I can see one breathing, and the other groans softly. I pray their armor has protected them from most of the damage.

Adam helps Trent to his feet, while the car pulls up beside us with Chris and Zoe in front. “Get in!” Zoe says.

We pile into the backseat. I pull my knees in close, cold and wet and horrified at what I’ve done. My arms tremble from the adrenaline still pulsing through me, and my hand hurts from gripping the baton so hard.

“Holy shit, Elena,” Chris says as we drive away.

“Just drive!” I hate that the others saw me like that. And more than that, I hate myself for hurting those cops. I only meant to get them off Trent so we could escape. But I lost control, my rage taking over, turning me into something I loathe. And Adam saw me do it.

I haven’t hurt anyone like that in years. I don’t want to be that person anymore. But what if Adam hadn’t stopped me? Would I have killed those cops? I saw the evidence at Future-Adam’s house, but a part of me still couldn’t believe I’d actually commit murder tomorrow.

Now I believe it.

I’ve tried to bury this part of myself for my entire life, but it’s in my DNA. This is who I am. A killer.

“You’re bleeding,” Adam says, reaching for my face.

“I’m fine,” I say, jerking away from his hand. My forehead might be bleeding, but I don’t feel any pain. I’m numb, inside and out.

I turn toward the window. I can’t stand the sight of him looking at me like I’m something dangerous and unpredictable. Like I might snap at any moment and hurt one of them too. But maybe it’s good Adam saw the real me. Future-Adam told him to not get too attached to me, to be careful. Now he knows why.

“Elena—” he starts.

A siren blares behind us. I twist in my seat and spot the police car right behind us, lights flashing in the darkness. And even though they’re right on our tail and we’re pretty much screwed, I breathe a tiny sigh of relief that they’re okay. I’m not a killer—not today anyway.

“This is bad,” Trent says.

Lights flash on the dashboard and a robotic voice sounds from inside the car. “Police override. Your vehicle will pull over to the side. Please remain seated.”

“Make that
really
bad,” Trent adds.

We start to slow and veer to the right. Chris grabs the steering wheel. “What? No, don’t pull over!”

The car crawls to a stop. I tug on the door, but it’s locked. Even the windows won’t roll down. We’re trapped here. But we can’t get arrested, not now, not with only a few hours left in the future. We still need to find Lynne, and if Future-Adam’s right, break into Aether Corp—all with enough time to make it back to the aperture.

“What’s going on?” Adam asks, leaning forward to peer at the dashboard.

“The police must have control of the car or something,” Chris says. “Wait, let me try…” He presses the button Future-Adam showed us that switches to manual driving, and the car takes off again. Yet another thing Future-Adam planned for.

“There we go!” Chris yanks the steering wheel to the side and we dart into another lane. He makes a quick right, the car’s tires squealing in the rain, and we speed down a smaller street. But the siren stays behind us.

With the others helping to direct him, Chris weaves us through traffic at a dangerous speed, turning down random streets. Next to him, Zoe rocks back and forth, clutching her bag. I stare out the back window, giving updates on how close the cops are. But after a couple more twists and turns, their lights vanish in the haze.

“We lost them,” I call over my shoulder.

“Yes!” Chris says, pounding on the steering wheel.

The others cheer, and I relax back into my seat. “Now we can head to Lynne’s and—”A siren cuts me off with a flash of red and blue.

Adam leans forward to examine the dashboard. “The car must have a tracker or something. We’ll never get away from them.”

“You’re probably right,” Chris says. “I think I can disable it, but someone else will have to drive.”

“I can drive,” Adam says.

“No, I might need your help. Anyone else?”

Trent and Zoe mutter that they don’t know how. The sirens get louder as the police car creeps up our ass.

“I’ll do it.” I got my license a couple months ago, although I’m definitely not experienced enough for a car chase with the police. But there’s no one else who can do it.

“Okay,” Chris says. “I have to put the car back on automatic so we can switch seats, so let’s make it quick.”

He hits the button and the car slows down again, dashboard lights flashing. Zoe climbs in back first, squeezing between us, and then Chris takes her spot in the passenger seat. I jump into the driver’s seat, grab the steering wheel with shaking hands, and hit the manual button.

“Go, go, go!” Trent yells from the back.

I slam my foot on the gas and we zoom forward, tires squealing on the wet road. Chris pulls a mini toolbox out of his backpack. He uses a screwdriver to open the screen on the dashboard, revealing the wires behind it. Adam leans forward from the middle of the backseat, and the two of them quietly discuss the inner workings of the car’s computer.

I want to watch what they’re doing, but I’m too busy trying to keep us on the road. Rain pounds against the windshield, and I have to squint to see anything ahead of us. Sirens blare behind us. I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white. I don’t bother trying to lose the cops. With the tracker on, there’s no point. I just try to keep ahead of them, barreling down the street and darting around other cars.

“I think I found it,” Chris says. “Adam?”

“Yeah, that must be it. But if you cut that, it’ll kill the navigation too.”

“Just do it!” I yell. The cops are gaining on us, and I don’t know how much longer I can stay ahead of them.

“Give me one minute…” Chris says, using pliers from his backpack to pluck at the wires.

Adam points to something in the panel. “Watch out for the—”

“I know, I know!” Chris leans close, and a second later every screen and light on the dashboard dies. “There! Done!”

“Great…now how do I lose them?” I ask.

“Make lots of quick turns,” Chris says. “Once we lose sight of them, we can turn off the headlights and hide somewhere.”

I take a sharp left, and we’re all thrown to the side of the car. But the cops stick right behind us the entire time. I have no idea where I’m going or what I’m doing. I’m running on fear alone right now, my limbs so jumpy I can barely hang on to the steering wheel.

“You’re doing great.” Adam puts a hand on my shoulder. “Just focus.”

Something about his touch, or maybe his confidence in me, clears my head a little. I check the road around us and brace myself for what I’m about to do. “I have an idea. Hang on.”

I jerk the car to the left, onto the wrong side of the street, straight into oncoming traffic. Zoe screams and my heart jumps into my throat, but the other cars swerve out of the way or stop before they hit us. One side of our car scrapes against another one with a shriek of metal.

“Watch it!” Chris yells.

The police hang back now, thrown off by my reckless move. It was a gamble, but I’d guessed that the computers inside the cars wouldn’t let them hit us. Luckily, I was right.

While Chris guides me and Trent yells at me to go faster, I drive through streets I’ve never seen before. I don’t know where I’m going or where we are. I’m just trying to escape the flashing lights behind us. But soon we’re lost in a city that’s become a stranger.

Finally Zoe says, “They’re gone!”

I check my rearview window but don’t see anything through the rain. We take another few turns to be safe, and then Chris points ahead. “Quick, pull in there.”

I speed into the parking lot for a storage facility wedged underneath a freeway overpass. We drive around back so we’re blocked from the view of the street by the large building. I shut the car off and we crouch down in our seats, waiting in the darkness. Listening to rain drum against the roof. Straining to hear sirens.

After the longest five minutes of my life, we peek our heads out and look around. No one yanks the doors open. No one yells at us to freeze.

We’ve escaped. Barely.

13:05

I stare out the front window at the downpour. Now that my pulse is slowing and we’re out of danger, my earlier thoughts crash back into me. Memories flash of everything I did to those cops. Of the crime scene photos showing what I’m going to do. And the knowledge of what I am and what I’m going to become. The others talk around me, but it’s almost like they’re in another room, their voices muted and distant.

“But the navigation is dead—how will we find Lynne’s house?” Zoe asks.

Chris inspects the open panel on the dashboard. “I can probably fix it, but it might take me a few minutes.”

“Wake me up when you’re done,” Trent says, pulling his hood over his head.

The warm air in the car suffocates me. I can’t be with these people for one second longer. I throw open the door and jump out into the rain and the darkness.

“Elena, where are you going?” Zoe calls after me.

“I need some fresh air.” I shut the door and walk away. My shoes splash through deep puddles, soaking my socks. Water trickles down my hair and into my jacket. I’ll probably catch a cold, but what does it matter? I won’t be alive after tomorrow anyway.

Once I’m on the other side of the building, out of sight, I slouch against the wall. I close my eyes and try to block out all thoughts but the sound of the torrent around me. I try to forget what’s going to happen tomorrow. I try to forget that we might be brain damaged soon. I try to forget what I did to those cops. But of course I can’t. I remember every single second. Every tiny detail.

Right now, future shock doesn’t sound so bad. I’d do anything to wipe these twenty-four hours from my brain.

I finally understand why I’m going to kill myself. I’ll never be able to escape the memory of killing the others or the guilt. How could I live with myself after that?

I pull the gun out of my backpack, the metal heavy and cold in my hand. I should pull the trigger now and save the others’ lives. What exactly am I living for, anyway? There’s no one who would miss me. Even if I live, I won’t have much of a future. Not a monster like me.

Footsteps approach and I shove the gun into my backpack. Adam stands in the rain, dark hair clinging to his face, wet clothes clinging to his tall, lean frame. His eyes find mine through the downpour. I don’t want him to see me like this, but it’s too late.

“You’re still bleeding,” he says. “Let me look at it.”

Am I? I touch my face and find a trace of blood mixed in with the rain. Not enough to worry about.

He moves closer and opens his first aid kit. I want to tell him not to bother, to leave me alone, but my throat aches and I can’t summon the energy to speak. I keep my eyes to the side, unable to look at him as he cleans my wound. He works quickly but his touch is gentle. I feel the heat rising off his body and his breath on my cheek.

When he’s done, he brushes damp hair out of my face, his fingers trailing lightly across my skin. “Are you okay?”

His touch makes me feel things I can’t allow myself to feel right now. I pull away. “I’m fine.”

“Elena, you can trust me.”

My breath catches at his words. Is this what Future-Adam meant when he told me to trust Adam when the time came? Is this
that
moment?

Adam’s blue eyes study me from behind his glasses, and they’re so sincere I want to tell him the truth. I want to spill everything I know, to have someone else to talk to about it. But I don’t want him to look at me like I’m a killer. I shake my head.

But he doesn’t leave like I’d hoped. Instead he leans against the wall and pulls something out of his pocket. Silver origami paper.

“Where did you get that?” I ask.

“From my house. My future house, I mean. I figured my older self wouldn’t mind me taking some paper.”

I can’t believe he’s doing this right now. But as he creases and folds, I find I can’t pull my eyes away, hypnotized by his long fingers patiently working on the paper.

In a minute he’s made a tiny origami boat. He offers it to me. “Hold this.”

“What…?” I take it, resting the silver ship on my palm. It looks sort of like a triangular party hat. It’s pretty cute, but it’s not as impressive as the unicorn he made me (twice).

“My mom’s the one who first taught me how to make origami.” He whips out a sheet of gold paper and begins to fold another boat for himself. “I was about seven or eight. She found me crying on the back porch, sitting in the pouring rain, because some kids had beat me up at school again. She folded an origami boat out of paper and said, ‘Put all your troubles into this.’ Then she placed it in one of the puddles and let it float away with the rain.”

His voice is filled with so much love that it sends pangs through my heart. I touch my mother’s watch, a wave of longing and grief washing through me. I’m honored he shared this memory with me, even If I doubt an origami boat can actually help ease my troubles.

He bends down and sets his golden boat adrift in one of the larger puddles, where it spins in a circle. “Your turn.”

I feel silly, but I place the silver boat in the puddle next to his. The two race around, chasing each other, then dip into a little stream and drift away toward the street. And as they vanish into the darkness I do feel lighter somehow.

“Why did you make me a unicorn before?” I ask.

He shrugs. “It’s from my favorite movie,
Blade Runner
.”

“Never seen it.”

“It’s old but still good. We should watch it together when this is all over.”

I can’t believe he still wants a future with me, even after what he saw me do. He needs to know the truth.

“I would have killed those cops,” I say. “If you hadn’t stopped me.”

“That’s not true.”

“You don’t know.” A single tear breaks through my defenses and slides down my face, getting lost in the rain. “You don’t know what I’ve done. What I’m going to do.”

He takes my hand, his fingers entwining with mine. “Tell me.”

“I’m the one who kills the others.”

As soon as I speak the words, everything else pours out of me. Everything I learned at the library. Everything Future-Adam told me. Everything I saw in the safe. I don’t hold anything back.

Adam looks shocked at first, but he doesn’t let go of my hand. With each confession, I’m sure he’ll turn on me, sure he’ll look at me like I’m a murderer and run away. But he doesn’t.

“They set you up,” he finally says. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. You’re not a killer, Elena.”

“I am.” I close my eyes and lean back against the wall. I have to tell him everything. “Remember how Trent mentioned Bright Haven, the group home? And how I messed up three girls?”

“Yeah.”

“I lost control then too.” I’ve never told anyone about this. I’ve buried the memory as best I could, but I can’t deny this part of me anymore. “There was this one girl there, Nina. She was small for her age and real dainty, like a doll. But there was something off about her too. She didn’t talk much, and she’d just stare at you with these big brown eyes, like she had no idea it was rude.

“She’d wear her clothes inside out and she’d walk around with a huge stack of books balanced on her head. She didn’t bother anyone, but the other kids thought she was weird. They picked on her a lot. I saw it, but I didn’t do anything, ’cause I didn’t want to get involved. I just wanted to keep my head low and get through my time there. But it got worse and worse, and the taunts turned to bruises…”

My voice breaks, and I have to stop a moment to breathe against the rush of painful memories flooding me. “One day I heard moaning from another room. I knew someone was in pain, and I had to check it out. There were these three girls, really nasty girls who pushed everyone around, and they had Nina. She was on the floor, and…and they didn’t even need to hold her down anymore. They’d beaten her within an inch of her life and covered her in lighter fluid. I walked in right when they were about to light her up. And when I saw her—broken, lying there, unable to protect herself—something within me snapped. I turned on those girls and I hurt them. By the time someone stopped me, none of them could move.”

“They would have killed her.” Adam squeezes my hand. “You saved her life.”

“But I nearly killed them. I
wanted
to.”

“Elena, don’t you see? Both times you lost control you were trying to protect someone else. That girl and then Trent…and the cops weren’t even that injured. You’re not going to kill the others or yourself.”

“But what if I lose control again? What if something happens and…”

He puts his hands on my shoulders, staring into my eyes. “You won’t. I know you, Elena. You’re not a killer.”

I want to believe him. But there’s one more thing I haven’t confessed, one thing I’ve held back. My father. And even though I’ve told Adam everything else, I can’t tell him that being a killer is in my blood. He’ll turn away from me, and I want him to keep looking at me like he is now, like he wants nothing more than to kiss me.

But he doesn’t kiss me. He waits for me to make a move, always patient, always understanding. Adam is too good for me, and I’m…I’m a mess.

I pull away from his touch and turn my back to him. “You should stay away from me.”

“Elena…”

“Please. Leave me alone.”

For a long second he doesn’t move. But then he sighs. I hear his footsteps heading back toward the car. Something tightens in my chest at the sound.

I don’t understand how I can have feelings for someone so different from me, someone I’ve known for only a day. Someone I’m completely wrong for. And yet…

“Adam, wait!” I sprint into the rain, catching up to him.

This time I don’t hesitate. I don’t think. I slide my hands up to his neck and pull him toward me. My lips press against his and he responds immediately, wrapping his arms around my waist. Our kiss is desperate, intense, like we know this might be our only chance. He holds me close and his body is warm against mine, igniting something inside me. As water pours down on us, together we’re a bonfire in the middle of a storm. And as I cling to Adam, suddenly, more than ever, I want to
live
.