Wynter's Horizon (27 page)

“It all sounds horrible.”

“Yeah. Well, it goes with the territory. I’ve done a lot of bad things, even if it was meant for good. Some of it … maybe it’s not so bad. I’m just not sure killing is justified. It makes you question life, any life. It makes you cold and distant. It makes you … a monster.”

She was quiet then, and we listened to the bugs chirping and the frogs croaking. “I don’t think you’re a monster.”

I didn’t answer. I knew what happened when my control broke. I knew the truth.

***

A few weeks after the semester started, someone asked her out on a date. She spilled the news to me over coffee one morning when I had made the trip down to see her. It was one of those perfect fall days in New York—sunny but with little humidity and a crisp feeling in the air, a hint of autumn, which made walking around enjoyable.

When she told me, my stomach dropped for what felt like an eternity. I tried to play it off. I knew she would be asked out. The rational part of me even wanted it—the part that had taken a rather long and extended vacation over the summer—knew that if I wanted the best for her then I needed her to do this. But appearing disinterested and nonchalant at that moment took all my acting skills, and even more control of my immense jealousy.

She seemed upset after our conversation, and we spent the rest of the day wandering aimlessly through the city streets and in and out of stores, the emotional energy rumbling between us but neither of us able to say anything. I returned to Newport that night in a foul mood, annoyed I had wasted the day with her and jealous beyond words. After confiding in Quinn, he convinced me we should follow the guy and make sure he deserved her.

We spent the next few nights tailing after him and watching his every move. We discovered nothing unusual, which did nothing to improve my mood, and I waited for the inevitable date.

“Do you think she’ll actually go?” We sat out on the deck enjoying drinks and watching what would most likely be the last of the summer thunderstorms move through the area. The rain descended in an almost horizontal pattern, and the canopy blew wildly. The lightning forking out of the sky and into the ocean provided a spectacular show.

“Sure. Why wouldn’t she?”

“Well, she hasn’t been with anyone since you walked into her life, besides that fucker Jason. Don’t you find that highly suspect? She likes you as much as you like her. She probably only mentioned it to see your reaction.”

“I don’t know. Why would she want that?”

“Because maybe, just maybe, she wants to figure out how you feel. You hardly tell her.”

“We’re only friends. She knows that. It’s the only logical way to be. She should go.” I was lying, of course, hoping I sounded convincing.

Quinn snorted, “Do you actually buy that line of bullshit you’re dishing out?”

“Sure.”

“Whatever. I bet you anything she doesn’t even go on the date. She wants you. You hear her heart when you’re around. You think its beating that loud and quickly because of the view here?”

I tipped my beer back, pausing to relish the slow slide of the cold liquid down my throat. My stomach twisted at the idea of Wynter wanting me. There were so many times I had wanted to confess just that to her. I shook my head, trying to bring my guard back up.

I had to believe she felt only friendship in order to keep this going. “I’ll take that bet, if it’s for a bottle of Laphroaig.”

“Sometimes you’re a damn mystery, and sometimes you’re just plain crazy.”

I didn’t answer.

“Lagavulin is way better scotch,” he added.

Chapter Fifty-One

Unraveling

His fingers shook so badly he could barely dial out on the prepaid phone he had just bought. Folding the paper with the number, he slipped it back into his overcoat pocket. He fought the urge to hang up as the phone started ringing.

“Hello?”

“Hello. I’m looking for … Mr. Phineas Cooper.” He took a deep breath, trying to settle his stomach and slow his heart. He wasn’t used to doing anything this risky.

“This is he. Who is this?”

“This is Graham Baxter. I am employed by…”

“Mr. Baxter, I know exactly who you are. What can I do for you?”

Baxter swallowed and played with the lining of his overcoat pocket.
Should he do this?
Once he did, there was no going back.
“Did you know they released…”

“Yes. I do. Damn fools. What about it?”

“They won’t let me warn the others.”

“Of course they won’t.
They
want your department closed. And the easiest way to do it is to kill off your agents. And the best way to do that is for them to kill themselves. They are super beings. Engineered to be better. And your new boss there doesn’t understand a thing about them.”

“But she’s crazy.”

“Well, yes. She was one of my firsts. . I didn’t do enough research. Her mother had a family history of schizophrenia. I got the beauty and the appeal but couldn’t control the crazy. It’s all about balancing. I got better as the process went on.”

“What should I do?”

“If I were you, I’d hang up, forget you talked to me, go back to your job, and hope no one ever finds out.”

“But…”

“Or you will wind up like me. Fired with nowhere to work at the end of your life or, even worse, dead.”

‘But…”

“Mr. Baxter, you cannot save a Jason Bourne. Now, hang up and let it take care of itself.”

“They are people.”

“That may be. But they are also government assassins, and that’s what you need to remember. Take care of yourself and stop worrying about them. Good night, Mr. Baxter.”

He hung the phone up and went back to his study. Lighting a cigar, he thought about Baxter, remembering the little man and feeling a surge of admiration that he would put himself in jeopardy to make that call. Baxter was trying to do the right thing, stupid, yes, but courageous.

He thought about each one of his creations, theirs gifts and flaws. Their mothers had all had trouble conceiving, and he had offered in vitro. They hadn’t known how he would manipulate the eggs and sperm he received. His favorite had been Sara but, like a parent, he had affection for each of them. He had altered the embryos’ DNA to be special, and, while all of them were unusually strong, they also had a variety of other special qualities. Nature had taken its own course with providing the faults. In some ways, each had been a surprise, just like normal children.

He leaned back, enjoying his smoke. As one of the firsts, Lilly showed the most ill effects. She was going to wreak havoc. He wondered who would die
next.

Chapter Fifty-Two

Wynter—The Weekend

“So, what about you?” I dragged my attention back to the present and desperately searched for the last few pieces of conversation. Evan, my date and classmate, looked at me expectantly. I couldn’t remember a word he’d just said, having spent the last few minutes staring out the open door thinking of my last day with Beck and how dismal it had been.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” I smiled sweetly, hoping that alone would make up for not paying attention.

“I asked what your favorite part of your summer was.”

I thought of the past few weeks with Beck, of how I waited impatiently all day for the moment he knocked on my window, climbing out and traversing the woods and the Watson Estate with him at night, holding onto him as he carried me up the hill and over the creek, climbing through a broken window of the deserted house and exploring room after room. We had discussed my plans for the future, the places he had lived, what he would do in life if he wasn’t what he was. I had dragged him to summer blockbuster movies and miniature golf on the nights he showed up early. I wanted the summer to last forever. And night, which had before seemed so scary, became
our
time. I wouldn’t have traded that for anything. It was like we existed in our own world, carved out from daylight’s problems, away from regular people and jobs.

I sighed and glanced down at my barely eaten plate of spaghetti. “I loved going to the beach and sunbathing,” I lied. He nodded in understanding. He was good looking—nice blue eyes and brown hair, slightly wavy on top. Tall and lanky, though still athletic looking, he’d asked me out the second week of school. I kept waiting for my heart to pick up a pace as I sat there looking at him, but the pasta held more interest.

I finished my glass of wine, declined dessert, and we left, winding our way through the crowded sidewalks and open shops towards my apartment. I thought of Beck’s recent behavior as we walked, letting Evan drone on about some class we had together. Beck had become preoccupied since I’d started school. It wasn’t like he avoided me or was mean; he was just more distant than he’d been all summer.

I had a hunch something was going on but no real evidence to back it up. I didn’t want to let him go, but I refused to be some simpering girl, whining for attention. I’d never been that way, not even with Jason. And I wasn’t ready to ask him what he felt, fearful that my own feelings were only one sided or, even worse, would scare him away.

Sometimes, though, I wondered, as he stared at me over a beer or a coffee, what he really felt. I wondered if the things he wanted to say were the same as mine, but the moment always passed, and he never did, smiling and laughing off the awkward silence that often settled over us. It drove me crazy.
He
drove me crazy.

In front of my building, Evan leaned in for a kiss, but I ducked to look at my cell phone. I made some excuse about Julia being sick and hurried inside. I confided all this to Julia as we split a bag of chips and salsa, waiting for Brian to return from a hockey game.

“So, you can’t tell him how you feel but you also can’t go out on a date and like someone else?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that sucks.”

I groaned at her response, flopping backward on the floor and spreading my arms out wide. “I know. I like him, like fricking crazy like him.” I stared at the ceiling, picturing his face.

“So, just tell him. Aren’t you going up there this weekend? Stop waiting for him and just go for it.”

The lock turned in the door, and Brian appeared, dropping his stuff on the entryway table and making a beeline for the open bag of chips. “What are you girls talking about?”

“Wynter’s love life,” Julia volunteered.

“My pathetic love life,” I corrected, sitting up and grabbing another handful of chips.

“English man still hasn’t made a move?”

I shook my head. Brian had that innate guy quality of reducing an hour-long conversation into one sentence.

“I don’t think he likes me.” I threw it out there hoping they would disagree.

“Didn’t that guy find you in the woods?” Brian asked in between mouthfuls of chips. I scowled at Julia.

“You didn’t say it was confidential.” She answered defensively.

“Webster, the guy’s English. Probably raised on some proper English custom, you know, stiff upper lip kind of thing. Stop waiting for him and just tell him,” Brian suggested, tipping the remains of the bag of chips into his mouth.

“You think?”

“Absolutely,” Brian mumbled back through the chips. “And then just jump his bones. Didn’t that always work for you before?”

I reached out and swiped at him, dragging my body off the floor at the same time. “On that note, I’m going to bed. Thanks for the advice.”

“Anytime. Hey, hot stuff, come over here.” Brian threw an arm around Julia and lifted her over onto his lap. I watched jealously. I never felt like an outsider with them, but it was hard not to envy
what they had. I wandered down to my bedroom, rehashing Brian’s advice and wondering if I had enough courage to follow through.

***

Dropping my bags in the front hall, I called out for Quinn and Beck. Silence answered me. I walked from room to room in search of life. The mahogany, wide plank floors creaked under my feet. The walls in most rooms were painted gray with white accents, and the furniture was a combination of rustic and English antiques. I wondered if Beck had help from a decorator.

I finally ventured down into the basement. Quinn lay sprawled across the couch watching television.

“I called. Why didn’t you answer?”

“I didn’t hear it.”

I looked at him sideways.

“Okay. I did, but I figured it was Beck calling to tell me to clean up. He’s a Mary when you’re coming to town. You’re early.”

“I ditched my last class. I left him a message. Where is he?”

“Acupuncture. Now he can get home and be all pissy that you’re here with me.”

I thought of Beck’s reaction when I told him of my date with Evan. “Why would he care?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Seriously? You have to ask? You and he are a fucking matched pair.”

“Whatever!” I changed the topic and pushed his legs off the end of the couch, depositing myself in their place. “You know…”

“Shh. This is a good fight scene. Have you seen this movie? Or is it before your time?”