The Change (Unbounded) (5 page)

My gaze shifted to Cort, who cleared his throat and said, “I’m almost five hundred, but who’s counting? Time isn’t something that binds us.” He rubbed his hands together again. “Though, you know, the term Unbounded didn’t come from the word bound or bind. It came from—”

“Unboundaried,” I interrupted. “I know. So you’re older than Ava.” I couldn’t think of her as my fourth great-grandmother yet. Maybe I never would. “But she seems to be in charge.”

He cleared his throat. “After the first hundred years, seniority hardly matters. But yes, she’s the mother of our little family, as you might call it.”

“And Dimitri’s the father?”

Stella laughed. “That’s as good a description as any. Dimitri and Ava coordinate our efforts here. And before you ask, Dimitri’s over a thousand years old. As the saying goes, he’s forgotten more than most of us have ever learned.” She glanced at Cort and grinned. “If Ava and Dimitri are the mom and dad, and Laurence the ugly stepbrother, who’s Ritter?”

Ritter? There was another one?

Cort took up the game. “Ritter’s the prodigal son who returns after extended absences only for the pure joy of beating the hell out of the Emporium.”

Stella laughed again, but I didn’t get the joke. “We’re fortunate Ritter’s on our side. You shouldn’t tease him so much, Cort. One of these days, he’ll squash you like a fly.”

“I’d just get up again.”

“Ava, Dimitri, Laurence, Ritter, and you two,” I said, “How many more are there?”

“There’s you,” Stella said.

“Besides me.”

Her face lost all amusement. “Here in Kansas City, that’s all, though we do employ some non-Unbounded security personnel—most of whom formerly worked for our government in secret operations. Not stuff you’d ever hear about. There’s a larger group of Renegade Unbounded based in New York and several other groups spread throughout the world. Less than a hundred total now, with fewer and fewer being born every century. We don’t practice inbreeding like the Emporium.”

“Maybe you should.”

Cort cleared his throat. “I’ve told everyone I’m perfectly willing.” Stella shot him a disgusted stare, but he only shrugged and continued speaking. “Anyway, our low Unbounded birth rate is why you’re so important, Erin. You’re the first Unbounded to Change in America since Kennedy in 1999.”

“President Kennedy?” My jaw was hanging, but I didn’t care.

“No. His son, but yeah, the father was Unbounded, too. Back in sixty-three, we had to get President Kennedy out of the public eye before it was too obvious. Makeup just wasn’t working to age him anymore, and a few aides became suspicious.”

“You faked his death?”

“Technically he did meet the mortal criteria of being dead long enough to fool the doctors, but yes, that was our doing. However, the son’s plane accident was real enough, a little gift from some enemies. Fortunately, we were able to get to him in time. But besides the Kennedys there were only three other American Unbounded born to our side in the past century. During those same hundred years, we lost more than a dozen to the fight against the Emporium—including the older Kennedy. We need you.”

“Need me for what?” The survival and re-death of an American icon was more than I could assimilate at the moment, much less the idea that I could actually be of value to these assured people. “For my genes?”

“Well, that too, I suppose.” Cort’s eyes focused briefly on my lips, and I found myself wondering how many women he’d kissed during his half millennium of life. Talk about practice. “But it’s more of what you can become after we train you. Your potential.”

Ava had hinted at something similar, but I had trouble believing either of them. I didn’t have too much confidence in my potential—law school was only one example of my failures.

“Saturday morning we’re flying to New York to deliver software to a company in exchange for something they’ve developed,” Stella said. “You’ll be coming with us. We need an Unbounded they don’t recognize.”

“But I don’t know anything about it.”

“By Saturday you’ll know enough.”

“Why don’t you just e-mail or Fed-Ex the program to them?”

They shared an amused glance that irritated me. “Too risky,” Stella said. “We must be sure they fulfill their part of the bargain. I can’t give you details now, but suffice to say, it’s to our good fortune that you’ve joined us at this time.”

I hadn’t actually “joined” anything. Not of my own will. But already I could tell that these people excelled at using whatever—or whoever—was at their disposal.

Standing, I paced a few steps under the pretense of stretching. They didn’t move to stop me, and my gaze shifted to the automatic doors. If I made it outside before they stopped me, I could get away and call my family. I could be safe in Tom’s arms, this nightmare behind me.

Yet what if everything they’d told me was real? What if I was different? Special. Not the ordinary middle child in a family of overachievers. I’d seen the video. I’d watched my burned body heal, felt my body absorbing that sticky gelatin and the clear substance in the IV bags. My two most notable scars—on my thumb and my eyebrow—were gone, and more miraculous, my arm regrown.

I ran a hand over the stubble on my head, abruptly feeling naked and exposed. Vulnerable. I didn’t know how much more strangeness I could take without losing it.

Stella made a sympathetic noise in her throat. “Your hair should grow back pretty fast now. All the curequick will affect that, too.”

“Only as a side effect of your entire body speeding up to make repairs,” Cort clarified. “Give it another few days, and it’ll look like any short haircut.”

“Meantime, I have something you could wear.” Rising to her feet, Stella motioned me to one of the large metal lockers against the wall. Numerous pieces of clothing hung inside, some obviously period pieces. She laughed when she saw my wonder. “I’m a bit of a packrat. I keep them here so my husband doesn’t—” She broke off, the smile vanishing, and I knew I’d learned something about her. Stella was married, and not to an Unbounded. Did he know her true nature?

That made me wonder how it would be telling Tom. I wondered if he’d believe or if I’d have to cut myself or something to prove it. Yet wasn’t the accident proof enough?

Stella took out a red-and-black checkered hat, a thing I’d never be caught dead in before, but I let her put it on, and when she angled the mirror on the door to the locker so I could see myself, I decided it looked good. But the short hair reminded me of the accident, the terror I’d experienced, and what I’d lost. Who I’d lost.

The now-familiar pain exploded in my chest, and for a moment I was stunned at its magnitude. My heart, apparently, was one thing they couldn’t fix with any amount of protein concentrate. I struggled for breath, struggled not to collapse to the floor and curl into a fetal position. “I have to see Tom,” I said, forcing the words between clenched teeth. “His sister, she was in the car. She’s dead. He grew up in foster homes until she found him. He doesn’t have anyone else but me.”

Because I’d been trying not to repeat mistakes that had caused me so much embarrassment and pain in the past, he’d barely met my family. They had no idea how I felt about him—which I guess put them about even with me since I didn’t quite know how I felt either.

“I know. He’s holding her funeral tomorrow.” Stella’s eyes showed pity. “Yours is tomorrow, too.”

I whirled then and started for one of the huge automatic doors. I was leaving, going back to Tom and my family. That was more important than any secret software or Unbounded struggle for control. Afterward, I would return to learn more—on my own terms, and not as their prisoner. Because a part of me desperately wanted what they were saying to be true. I wanted to
be
someone. To make a difference as I hadn’t attempted doing since leaving college.

Stella didn’t move to stop me, and Cort only kicked his feet up on one of the computer desks and leaned back, his hands folded over his stomach. I received a brief impression of somber amusement and hoped that didn’t mean all the exits were locked.

Next to the huge outer doors, I spied a smaller one with a regular knob. I angled toward this, praying it would open. It did. In a second I was through and hurrying over a cement loading dock that connected to the parking area by means of a concrete ramp.

It was early evening, as far as I could tell, and the day had been a hot one even for early September. Heat radiated off the parking lot, the hot air rising in visible distorted waves. In every direction I saw buildings and cement, and only one road leading away. Though no people were in sight, the honk of a horn and the racing of distant engines were welcome sounds after the isolation of the warehouse. I might have to walk some distance before I knew where I was, but with the stolen cell phone, it would be only minutes before Tom was on his way to me. I quickened my pace.

A rush of air blew against me, and a man stood in my way. He was tall and tanned and muscular, and his black hair was longer than I generally liked on a man, yet it fit him perfectly. Power poured off him like the heat from the tarmac. By the hard lines of his square jaw and his determined stance, I knew he wasn’t there to wish me well in my bid for freedom.

I
TRIED TO MOVE AROUND
him, but he stepped in front of me again. He was closer now, his wide shoulders level with my eyes, his muscles tight under the navy T-shirt. I let my eyes trail downward, taking in hiking boots and faded jeans that he filled out to good advantage before moving back to his tanned face. Despite my irritation, I couldn’t help but stare. If Stella could possibly have a male opposite, this man would be a good candidate for the job. His face wasn’t as perfect as hers but it was attractive in a rugged, compelling way, the bronze skin marred only by beard stubble.

“You’re Ritter, I take it.” I didn’t hide the bitterness in my voice. He certainly wasn’t the overweight Laurence, whom I’d presumably have the chance of outrunning.

His face twitched in what might have been a poor attempt at a smile. “Ava wants you to stay here.”

“Ava doesn’t own me.”

Irritation echoed in eyes so dark I had to call them black. “Sometimes people have to be protected from themselves. So they won’t do something stupid.”

I searched for something to say, and Cort’s comments about Ritter’s hatred for the Emporium came to mind. “Oh, but wouldn’t that be Emporium rhetoric?” I said it mockingly because I had no idea really who the Emporium was, except what the others had told me, and for all I knew they were making everything up. I was pleased to see Ritter flinch.

“Stay put before you get us all killed.” The confident way he spoke told me he wasn’t accustomed to being disobeyed.

I turned and went the other way, sprinting now. But somehow he was there before me, blocking my path. I ran into him before I could halt my momentum. Strong hands grabbed my arms. I beat at his chest. “Let me go!”

His hands tightened on my arms, his fingers biting painfully into my skin and bringing my struggle to a quick end. “You’ll have enough time to act like a mindless idiot later,” he gritted. “You aren’t starting tonight.”

“What kind of monsters are you? My family thinks I’m dead! Do you know the pain they’re going through?”

His face was expressionless. “Right now the only thing I care about is that you’re wasting my time.”

“What do you care about your precious time? You’re Unbounded, remember?”

“Am I?” He lifted one dark brow.

More mind games. I yanked myself from his grasp and lurched into a run. I hadn’t gone five steps before he blocked my path again, one strong hand gripping my arm, his mouth twisted in a grim smile. It was no use. He was too fast. I’d never seen anyone move the way he did. “How?” I asked.

“Years of practice.”

“See? Unbounded.”

He shrugged. “You’d better go inside.”

“Or you’ll
make
me?” I didn’t know what had overcome me. Usually, I wasn’t into confrontations—or hadn’t been since law school. In my family, I was the peacemaker, the one to smooth everything over. The one who felt guilty when she didn’t deliver what her parents expected. What was happening to me?

I didn’t want to change. I wanted to remain who I’d always been. I wanted my life back.

My turmoil must have shown in my face because Ritter’s grip loosened slightly on my arm and something akin to pity chased across his face. “It’ll be okay.”

“It’s not okay!” I went up on my toes to shout as close as I could to his face. With luck someone in the neighboring buildings would hear and come to investigate. “I want my family. I want Tom. I want out of here!” Tears came then, the flood I’d been holding back. I felt the fabric of my heart rip, a small hole becoming as large as the missing pieces of my life. What if they meant to keep me from my family forever? I started to slump to the ground, my hands coming to my face to block out this whole terrible nightmare.

As if I weighed no more than a bag of salt, Ritter picked me up, slung me over his shoulder, and stomped back to the warehouse, barely halting to fling open the door. I struggled half-heartedly, but it did me no good. Every part of him was solid as if he’d been working out for years.