Unforgotten (20 page)

Toward me.

He looks familiar. Painfully familiar. And yet I can’t place him.

Not until my gaze falls to the breast pocket of his coat. Not until I see the small digital badge pinned to his lapel, illuminated with text like a tiny screen.

Not until I read his name, which appears just below the words
GenZone Research Laboratory.

And then my entire world goes fuzzy.

No.

It can’t be. It’s not him. He can’t be a part of this.

He looks me up and down. His expression matches mine perfectly. We are twins of disbelief.

Unable to accept the fact that we have found each other here. Now. In this strange, uncertain future.

I open my mouth to speak. But no sound comes out.

“You…” he croaks, his voice low. Too low. Too old. Too mature. It sends dizzying vibrations through my brain.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says.

I shake my head, feeling frost drift over me. I try to speak again but my voice is still lost in some deep abyss. I can’t tell him what I want to tell him. I can’t respond with the only thought that’s running through my mind right now.

Neither should you.

30

MOTIVATIONS

“Where would you like to go?” the disembodied female voice asks us as we get into a cab outside the Pelham Bay Park subway station.

“I don’t understand,” Kaelen says. “How could there not be a trigger? We went exactly where the memory directed you.”

He hasn’t stopped complaining about this since we left the train after riding it for another twenty-six stops, all the way to the end of the line, at which time we were forced to disembark. The whole time he stood there, staring at me, waiting for something to happen. And the whole time, I convincingly insisted that nothing had.

“I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with that destination,” the cab replies, referring to Kaelen’s rant.

“I don’t know,” I tell him, refusing to look him in the eye for fear that he’ll be able to read the lie. “Perhaps it’s been triggered but will take some time to activate. You said yourself that TDRs are activated by physical triggers or after a certain amount of time has passed. Maybe this is one of the time-triggered ones.”

He ponders this, his expression neutral with just a hint of aggravation.

“I’m sorry,” the cab repeats. “I’m not familiar with that destination either. Where would you like to go?”

I look at Kaelen. “Maybe we should just go back to the apartment and wait.” I silently pray that he’ll agree. The rest of my plan will only work if he agrees.

I hold my breath.

He sighs sharply. “I suppose that is an acceptable proposal.”

Exhale.

Relief.

Kaelen fishes the two forged DIP cards out of his pocket and waves them in front of the scanner. “173 East Seventy-Second Street.”

A
ding
sounds from the screen in front of us, flashing our pictures side by side again.

“Thank you,” the female voice replies. “Your account has been debited. Would you like to watch TV during your journey?”

“No,” we reply in unison.

I can’t have any distractions. I need all my strength and concentration to pull this off.

The car drives away from the curb. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Kaelen relax against the seat, looking fatigued.

Good,
I think.
That will certainly help.

We ride in silence, watching the busy New York streets pass by out the window.

“Based on current traffic conditions, we should arrive at your destination in approximately twenty minutes,” the cab announces.

Twenty minutes,
I think.
That should give me enough time.

Kaelen is seemingly lost in thought. He’s probably running back through the download of the memory he stole from my mind, trying to figure out what might have gone wrong. What we might have missed.

A flick of my gaze and I see the small lump in his left pants pocket.

The Modifier.

I remember him putting it in that pocket at the apartment before we left. If I can just get my hands on it, my plan might actually work. But since Kaelen is clearly stronger and faster than I am, the element of surprise is my only real chance.

My fingers tingle in anticipation. My legs burn with heat. I prepare my body to spring, mentally bracing myself for the current that will undoubtedly charge through my body the moment we touch.

And we will touch.

It’s inevitable.

Our skin will make contact. That mysterious pulse of energy will illuminate me from the inside. The relentless magnetism will suck me in like a gravitational field.

That warmth will wash over me. Spread everywhere. Erase everything …

Focus,
I command myself.

I think about Zen. Dying in that bed only twenty minutes from here. I have to help him. I can’t trust Diotech to do it. They’ll never hold up their end of the agreement. As soon as they follow this map inside my head and get their hands on whatever it is that’s waiting at the end of it, all promises will be discarded.

I’ll be back at the Diotech compound, strapped to a chair while they rewire my brain and turn me into someone incapable of questioning anything.

Someone like
him.

I eye the bulge of the Modifier in his pocket again and curl my fists into tight balls, preparing to strike. I suck in a courageous breath and spring toward him, one arm outstretched, aimed for his face, while the other veers toward his pocket.

Kaelen turns his head just as I’m starting to move and I crash to a halt. I quickly settle back into the seat, pretending that I was simply shifting my weight to get more comfortable and scratch an itch on my head.

His head tilts for a moment as he studies me, seemingly deciding what to make of my strange maneuver. He opens his mouth to say something and I’m positive he’s going to scold me for trying to attack him while his back was turned.

“Why did you run away from the Diotech compound?” he says at last.

I stare at him, completely baffled by this unexpected question. “What?”

“The intelligence I received before I was sent to apprehend you. It informed me that you had escaped from the compound with the son of a Diotech scientist. But it didn’t clarify your reason for departing. What would motivate you to do that?”

I feel myself relax. My heart eases back into a normal steady rhythm.

I hesitate, not sure how detailed I want to get about my true motivations for leaving. Especially with someone who couldn’t possibly understand them. “You’ve seen all my memories,” I argue sourly. “You should know.”

“Yes,” he confirms, “but many are incomprehensible.”

I have to laugh. “I guess I left because I wasn’t happy there. And I thought I
could
be happy somewhere else.”

I can tell from the crinkles in his forehead that this confuses him even more. “Happy?” he echoes. “Why is this obligatory?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. It just is. Apparently I was never as accepting of my
purpose
as you are.”

Again, puzzlement flickers over his face. “Why not?”

I throw my hands up. “Because unlike you,
I
actually have the ability to think for myself.”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. They were rash and imprudent. I realize insulting him is not a wise course of action right now. The last thing I need is for him to get defensive, or worse, angry.

I need him calm. I need him off guard.

I quickly try to think of something to say that might reverse the effects of my mistake.

“I guess I was …
defective
, as you said.” I pray that this will be enough.

But I suppose I’ll never know. Because Kaelen doesn’t respond. He simply turns back toward the window.

It’s now or never.

Without another moment’s hesitation, I take a deep breath and launch my body toward him.

31

DISTURBANCE

I move faster than I’ve ever felt myself move. So fast my eyes can barely track my hands as they tear through the air and land on him. My left hand goes to his face, knocking his head against the window, as my right hand grapples for the device in his pocket.

I yank hard, ripping it clear through the fabric of his pants. I flick my thumb up on the switch, feeling the device hum to life, and bring the metal-pronged tip toward Kaelen’s forehead.

But I’m stopped inches away from his scalp line as his hand wraps around my wrist and pushes back. I press forward, scooting onto my knees and putting my body weight into it. We struggle, but it soon becomes apparent that he’s too strong. I can’t beat him like this.

Kaelen leans back and wedges his leg between us, using the sole of his shoe to catapult me off him. I hit the ceiling of the cab, my head smacking hard, my neck whipping back.

As I plummet down toward the seat, I twist my body, wrapping my arms around Kaelen’s torso, dragging him onto the floor with me. A loud crash reverberates through the car as I land with Kaelen on top of me.

“Please remain in your seats.” The cordial voice of the cab is a humorous contrast to our raging battle in the backseat. “You are disrupting the journey.”

With the Modifier still in my hand, still charged, I reach for Kaelen’s face again, releasing a throaty grunt of effort as I force my hand upward. He elbows me in the lip, knocking my head against the floor. I feel blood start to trickle. I nearly drop the Modifier as I scramble to get out from underneath him.

I jump to my knees, the movement sending Kaelen crashing into the window. He looks slightly stunned from the blow. I use this to my advantage, throwing my body toward him, Modifier outstretched, ready to make contact.

“Please remain in your seats,” the pleasant cab voice advises again. “You are disrupting the journey.”

Kaelen thrusts out his open palm, slamming it against my chest, sending me soaring onto my back across the bench seat.

He eyes the Modifier in my hand and makes a move toward it. I hold it high above my head, my knuckles smashing against the window. Glass crunches around my skin as the cold winter air streams in.

Kaelen lunges forward, landing on top of me. All the air in my lungs vanishes from the impact.

I squeeze my hand as tight as I can around the Modifier, stretching my hand outside the broken window, over the rushing street below. I can feel cars zooming past, threatening to knock the device right out of my grasp.

Kaelen reaches toward it and then seemingly changes his mind halfway there. His hand changes direction, this time descending toward my forehead.

Oh, no.

He’s figured out what’s happening. He knows I have the memory. He’s trying to read it.

I squirm, tossing my head to avoid contact. His fingertips continue to dive toward my face. I use my free hand to block them, shoving him away.

I cannot let him see this memory!

“Please settle down,” the cab warns, “or I will notify the police.”

I know I’m incapable of holding him off much longer. There’s only one thing left to do. And I really, really don’t want to do it.

Plus, I’m not even sure it will work. But I’m out of options. I’m out of everything.

I whip my head around to face him, reaching out and grabbing his cheek, forcing him to look at me. He appears confused by my action, unsure what I’m trying to accomplish.

I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and yank down with all my strength. Heaving his face toward mine. Our noses inches apart, almost touching. Closer and closer until he has nowhere else to look. Until I am the only thing he can see.

BAM!

Our gazes collide.

Our eyes lock.

The hold is more powerful than either of our individual strengths. Unyielding. Uncompromising. And utterly unbreakable.

Rendering us both motionless. Useless.

The spark ignites somewhere in the tiny crevices hidden between us. Sending electricity bouncing back and forth, back and forth. Like a bolt of lightning dancing between two trees. Growing stronger with each exchange.

I don’t understand it. I certainly don’t want it. But I can’t fight it.

And even more important, neither can he.

I feel myself being pulled in to him. Like he’s a red-hot dangerous sun, and I’m just a lonely rock hurtling through space. And somehow I
know
he feels the same mysterious pull.

I know it like I know my own self. Like I know my arm will reach when I tell it to reach. Like I know my fingers will clasp when I tell them to clasp.

Like I know if I move my mouth toward his, he will meet me halfway.

It’s as though we’re speaking some strange silent language that only the two of us can hear.

Now!
I scream at myself.
Do it NOW! While he’s immobile. While he’s held captive by this inexplicable spell.

Deactivate him!

I will myself to move. Pull my arm back into the cab, touch the Modifier to his temple.

But I just …

Can’t.

I let my eyes drift down the rest of his face, taking in his beautifully shaped nose, his strong, chiseled jaw, his pale pink lips. I can see that they are drawn back in a grimace. He looks pained. Anguished. Fighting this as hard as I am.

We inch closer still.

Neither of us able to control it.

This … thing that imprisons us without our consent.

This … inevitability.

Our lips
will
meet. Our worlds
will
collide. Our lives
will
never be the same.

I watch his eyes drift closed as our mouths linger a whisper apart. I allow mine to close, too.

And as soon as they do, I see his face.

Not Kaelen’s.

But Zen’s.

And not sick and dying in a bed. Not unconscious and helpless on the pine needle carpeting of the forest. But alive. His dark eyes gleaming. His lips curved in that crooked smile. His soft, gentle voice whispering
Always yes.