The Fox Inheritance (31 page)

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Authors: Mary E. Pearson

Tags: #Social Issues, #Survival Stories, #Action & Adventure, #Bioethics, #Juvenile Fiction, #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #General, #Survival, #Identity

BOOK: The Fox Inheritance
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Kara smiles. "You have no idea how many times I uttered those same exact words, Jenna. All those years, I hoped someone would come and save me. Someone would come and take my hand and walk me out of the darkness. My best friend, maybe?"

"Kara." Tears flow down Jenna's face. "You
were
my best friend. I tried to save you, but I couldn't. I was only seventeen, but I never forgot. Never. When I had Kayla--" Her words come in sobs. "Kayla," she whispers. "Her name. It was for you, Kara. You and Lily and Locke. Pieces of your names so that every time I looked at her--" Her voice chokes.

Kara looks down at Kayla in her arms. Her eyes scan the length of her body. She gently brushes a strand of hair from Kayla's face. Her head tilts to one side and then she looks up at Jenna. "I made the perfect choice, then, didn't I? If I wanted to destroy you, she would be the way." Her pupils contract to pinpoints.

I take a chance and step closer. "Please, Kara, come with me. Let's go back to the house. We still have a life to live," I whisper.

"We're not people, Locke. There is no life to live. We're only the memories of a boy and girl who lived a long time ago. Memories housed in look-alike bodies. Kara's dead. She died a long time ago." She talks like she has already detached herself from Kara, like she is talking about someone else

"No, Kara. We made it. We're alive."

"It was her fault. She was driving. If any part of her still exists, it deserves to die too."

"No. I need you. I still--"

"My lovely Kara."

I jerk my head to the side. Gatsbro is just feet from me right behind the spider, his hand extended to Kara.

"Come, my dear. Come away from that cliff. Let's go back to the estate where you can be treated the way you deserve. Like a queen. We'll forget this little indiscretion." He touches his forehead. "We'll even forget your unfortunate fit of anger."

I would be enraged, but I see Kara's brows rise like she's interested in his offer. She takes a step away from the edge. For the first time since we escaped, I am grateful for Gatsbro's presence.

"That's right, my dear. This is not the life for you."

She steps closer again, close enough that I think it might almost be safe to grab her and Kayla. I watch the smile on her face and the ice in her eyes. The calculations, Kara playing to the audience, Kara with impeccable timing. She looks back down at Kayla in her arms.
Someone has to pay
.

"Kayla," she whispers. She smooths the hair away from Kayla's cheek and looks back at me and Jenna. "Kara loved you," she says. "She loved you both." She holds Kayla out to me.

I hear Jenna choke back a moan. I step forward, and she pours Kayla's limp body into my arms. Jenna is already grabbing Kayla from me, sobbing, carrying her away.

Kara lifts her hand, waiting for Gatsbro to come and take it.

He turns his head to me and smiles like he has won. "Look behind you, my boy. You should never trust your work to the hired help. We'll all be going back--whole or in pieces. I can't leave valuable merchandise lying around for others to steal." I turn and see Hari with the tazegun aimed at me. Gatsbro looks back at Kara, the same smug grin still on his face, and he takes her outstretched hand in his. "You always were the smarter one."

"Yes, Doc, I was," she says. Her fingers tighten in an iron grip on his hand. "You ready to go for a little ride?" With a quick, graceful backward kick of her foot, she hits the control panel on the spider. It lurches, its back foot snapping, and clamps around her leg. My horror is reflected in Gatsbro's eyes as he tries to shake loose from Kara's grip.

"No!" I yell, but the spider is already bucking and moving forward. My fingertips graze Kara's other hand just before she goes over, taking Gatsbro with her, and I stumble to the edge of the cliff, watching her fall out of reach. In those microseconds, I think I see her eyes, the eyes of the Kara I knew, floating away from me.

For you, Locke ... always ... always there....

The spider crashes to the rocks below and then the wreckage of metal and bodies tumbles into the river. They're swallowed by the swirling waters like they never existed.

Kara
. My hand is still stretched out to her. Whatever she's become, whatever is left, I can't let it go.
Focus, Locke. Focus. You can turn back the seconds.
But I can't. Not then. Not now. Not ever.

* * *

I hear voices behind. Yelling. And then a hand on my back.

"Locke," Jenna whispers, "come away from the cliff." She's on her knees next to me. I ease back from the edge. Loose dirt and stones tumble over the side.

Jenna stands and takes my hand, pulling me to my feet and farther away from the edge. I can't think. I look at my hands, fingers, all numb like they are no longer there. Useless. They couldn't save her.

"At least I still have one to take back."

I look to the side. Hari still has the tazegun aimed at me.

"You didn't even try to save him," I say.

"Why would I? I didn't like him any more than you did. And I don't need him. I already have some buyers for you. Let's go."

Allys puts Kayla back into Jenna's arms and steps forward, shaking her head. "I'd think again, jerkwad. That tazegun can only shoot one person at a time and has a pretty slow reload. On the other hand..." She glances into the distance behind Hari.

Hari turns his head while maintaining the aim of the tazegun. The two other goons turn to look too. Walking up from the bottom of the field is a line of land pirates. At least twenty. Their black coats flap in the breeze like a flock of menacing ravens--ravens with a purpose. Bone is among them.

"Those aren't tazeguns they're carrying," Allys says. "Those are old-fashioned rifles. The kind that can blow a five-inch hole through you. Or ten-inch. It's hard to tell with all the mess."

Hari turns to look at the others. They shake their heads.

"And I should warn you--their aim is terrible. Sometimes they shoot off arms, feet, all kinds of things before they hit dead center. But they're persistent little devils."

Hari looks at me, a mix of frustration, fear, and fading dollar signs in his eyes. His lip pulls up in a sneer, his last weak grab at power. He turns to the others, who are keeping an eye on the advancing land pirates. "Let's get out of here," he says. They don't hesitate and scramble into the car and roar off.

Three of the land pirates raise their rifles and take aim, hitting the roof and the road just ahead of the car. Bad aim or a warning? It doesn't really matter. Either way, it does the job, and the car accelerates.

Allys drives back to the house. Jenna sits between us, cradling Kayla in her lap. None of us speak. Kayla is saved. Kara is gone. Just like that. In an instant, reality has flipped again. Do they feel as numb as I do? Right now life is harder than a century of darkness.

It is only the unanswered question of what has happened to Miesha that keeps my eyes on the road at all. When we pull into the driveway, we see her sprawled at the bottom of the porch steps. There is no sign of Dot.

Allys stops the truck, and we jump out and run to Miesha. She is breathing but unconscious.

"They must have shot her with the tazegun," Jenna says. "Let's get her inside."

I know the routine. First it was for me. Then Kara. Now Miesha. I lift her and carry her to her bed, praying that Miesha has tougher skin than three elephants. Allys and Jenna take over, and I go back outside to look for Dot. I see her assistance chair in an oleander bush near the driveway and run to it. And then just beyond it, almost hidden in the vegetable garden, I spot her lying in a bed of lettuce. I hurry to her. Her eyes are open and staring into the sky, sightless. Her torso is shattered, the skin torn away from her neck. I fall to my knees next to her.

I reach forward and fold the flap of skin back against her neck. The smell of her burned circuitry hangs in the air.

"Dot," I whisper, unable to believe that she's gone too.

"Is that you, Customer Locke?"

I fall back on my butt. "Dot?"

"I cannot see you. I'm afraid that. That. That. Portion of my circuitry has incurred dam. Dam. Dam."

"It was damaged," I whisper.

"It was that stray shot from the tazegun. Miesha saw me. Disabled. She was. She was distracted. That's when they grabbed her. Is she all right?"

"Yes," I lie. "She's fine. What happened to you?"

"Car. They swerved. To hit me. They. I cannot see you. I'm afraid that. That. That. Portion of my circuitry has incurred dam. Dam. Dam."

"Yes, I know. It was damaged," I say again.

"Correct. But you are free?"

"Yes, Dot. Because of you, I'm free. What should I--"

"Mission accomplished. Your success is. Is. Isss."

I hear a pop, and smoke seeps from the opening in her neck. There are no more words, only silence and her sightless stare into the sky. Her jewel blue sky. I stand and pick her up. Broken bits of her fall away, but I carry the bulk of her to my room and lay her on my bed.

Chapter 74

The next two weeks go by in a blur. We bury Dot beneath a tree near the greenhouse. We give her a marker with her name--the full proper name she chose and the title she deserved too. Officer Dot Jefferson, Liberator.

Miesha still hasn't wakened. Jenna says the tazegun was set to kill rather than stun and that Miesha is lucky to be alive. She doesn't know when or if she will wake. Kayla doesn't mind when I tuck one of her stuffed animals under Miesha's arm. It is a small blue elephant that is missing one eye. I check on her each day before I go outside to work and again when I return.

I have finished the stone wall for the herb garden, fixed Jenna's sagging porch, and dug more trenches. I work from morning until the last light of day is gone. I work alongside Bone and the others getting the field ready to plant. They don't talk. Neither do I. When I run out of trenches to dig, I wish there were more.

The blisters. The sweat. It is all good. But sometimes it is not enough, and my mind wanders anyway. Miesha might not have been hurt if I hadn't left her alone, but if I hadn't left her, Kayla might be dead. If I had snapped Gatsbro's neck when I had the chance. If I had loved Kara more ...

There are a million different directions life can take. When my mind tries to wander in one of those directions, I dig twice as fast, pound twice as hard, and haul twice the rocks.

Even then, when sweat is stinging the scratches on my face and hands, when my back aches from lifting rocks, when every part of me feels so human I want to scream, I see Kara's eyes, whatever was left of her, letting go, whatever was left of her wanting a last bit of control over her destiny, I see her floating away because something inside of her had already died. The nights are different. Even with all the work, I still can't sleep, so after Kayla has gone to bed, Jenna and I walk, and we talk.

"I loved her, Jenna. But never in the way she needed. Never with everything inside of me. It was never enough to bring her back."

"She was gone, Locke. I saw that the minute I looked into her eyes, but I didn't want to believe it, either. There was nothing you could have done. I don't know when it happened or how it happened, but she was gone."

"She told me we were dead. That we were just memories housed in look-alike bodies."

"That may have been true of her, Locke, but not you."

"How can you know? Maybe the real Locke is gone too. I've had thoughts as dark as anything we ever saw in her."

"We all have a dark place in us. It's what we do with it and the choices we make." She reaches over and turns my face to hers. "The mercy you showed Gatsbro. The risk you took for Kayla. Your kindness to Dot. Your eyes. Your face. That's how I know. The real you is still here. My Bio Gel may not be BioPerfect, but it has years of experience at reading a face."

I need to hold on to that. Maybe we all have a dark place inside of us, a place where dark thoughts and darker dreams live, but it doesn't have to become who we are.

We walk around the pond, across the bridge, through the forest, down trails that lead nowhere and then back again. We walk in the dark, and we walk by starlight. We talk about our lives, our families, and the unexpected turns they all can take. But mostly we talk about Kara. We talk about all the befores. The stupid things we did. The funny things. The times she made us laugh. Sometimes we stop and hold each other, and we both cry. And then I imagine Kara there with us. Rolling her eyes. Hooking her arms in ours. Holding us too.

We tell some stories twice, three times, or more, so those memories are fresh. We tell stories so those memories will rise above our last days with her, so that is what we will remember when we think of Kara. Sometimes we sit at the edge of the pond and just listen to the silence. The moon plays tricks on the surface, and I see all of us from a distance. I watch three friends pointing at stars, three friends sitting in the dean's office, three friends dangling feet from a bridge and spouting poetry.
We held hands. We crossed a line. We made one another braver
. Three friends forever frozen in time.

Chapter 75

Today when I limp up the porch steps and collapse in the rocker, Jenna comes out on the porch and frowns.

"Do I smell that bad?"

"You can't keep doing this, Locke. Why are you working like a maniac? To prove to the world that you're human?"

I sit up straighter in the rocker. I hadn't thought of that, but it's probably true. Kara's words still haunt me. I can't just be a memory housed in a look-alike body. Technology gave me my life back, and each aching muscle, cut, and scratch seems like proof that I'm still human. "I suppose that's part of it," I answer.

She hops up on the railing across from me. "And the other part?"

The other part is easy for me to figure out. With Gatsbro no longer after me, and with Kara no longer dipping into my thoughts, I've breathed in freedom--the most I've ever felt--but almost in the next breath, as I work alongside Bone, I see how limited my freedom really is. "Anger is the other part, Jenna. I figure it's better to swing a pick into the ground than throw another chair through a wall."

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