Cheating Time Page 8

  "Sir, I thought you and I agreed that I'd chaperon Professor Enoche back."

  "Carlie helped me see the flaw in that plan. Still, I don't want you to worry. I'll speak with Barone as soon as I get to the capital. I'll let him know you followed my orders, that I asked you to make sure my family was safe. Once the coast is clear, I'll contact you. Then and only then will you escort Carlie and Tawney to the academy." Dad paused for a few minutes, debating his next words. "I-I'm even going to speak with Barone about letting you enroll at the academy. I know you've always wanted to be more than a Soldier, that you've always wanted to be a writer. This might be your only chance at that."

  My shocked stare jerked toward Jayden at the same time Jayden's reverent stare jerked Dad's way. Speechless with the offer, one that only my father would ever make to a Surrogate, Jayden watched Dad and waited to see if he was going to put conditions on their deal or tell him at the last minute he'd changed his mind. He held his breath and I understood perfectly how much this gesture meant to Jayden, how much he wanted to continue his education, how much he wanted to become a writer.

  I never knew.

  My inner conscience took over. You never tried to find out anything about him, she admonished.

  Catching sight of me and the way my mouth had dropped to my chest, Jayden's cheeks reddened. Suddenly, he was uncomfortable that Dad had shared his hopes, his dreams, and his aspirations in the presence of anyone. In my presence. Jayden glanced around the barn, making sure he avoided any and all contact with me.

  "Sir, I'm more concerned for you than some dream that I have no right in having," Jayden said after clearing his throat.

  Dad waved his hands as if his safety were the least of his concerns.

  "I'll be fine. If you go back with Selma, they'll separate you from her first thing. I am her husband. They'll have a harder time doing that with me. Appearances mean everything to Barone. The last thing he wants is to have to explain to his faithful followers that he's keeping a husband from his wife… especially if that husband is his former Secretary of the Department of Defense and that wife is his former Chair of the National Genealogists Committee.

  "Conspiracy theories would taint everything he does and open him up to even more scrutiny, something he can ill afford right now. I'm pretty sure that's the reason he's been letting us lay low here on the farm for the last six months." Dad chuckled cynically. "Of course, the fact that he needs Selma to get back and continue her research won't harm our chances of getting most of what we ask for."

  Jayden was appalled that Dad was making light of the situation. "Sir, he might not hurt her, but he'll put you in front of a firing squad in a heartbeat," he said right before he caught sight of the horror on my face. He jerked his chin over his shoulder, signaling for me to leave him and Dad. I was too shocked to move.

  Since time was of the essence and I was going nowhere, he reluctantly continued. "I-I mean… he'll do his best to convince everyone you've broken a law, one that comes with a death penalty. Because he wants you dead, he'll set you up, making it look like you committed treason or murdered someone. You know him better than me. You know he'll do it."

  Bobbing his head, Dad shrugged. "Theoretically, I have broken laws. There's a law that says I must make my whereabouts known to the government. Thanks to Selma, I've been on and off the radar for six months. It was the only way I could do things that the DOA would execute me for. I'm not naïve. I knew the risks when I walked away from Barone's umbrella of control. There'll be even more risks trying to get back underneath it." Dad put his hand on Jayden's shoulder and squeezed. "If you could keep the rest of them out of danger until we've tested the waters and called you back to the capital, I-I'd appreciate it more than you know, son."

  With Dad's request, Jayden stood taller. Like me, he wore his commitment to live up to Dad's expectations as if it were a badge of honor meant to be displayed proudly.

  For him, it is.

  Jayden turned into the loyal soldier, snapped his heels tight, looked straight ahead, and saluted my father. "Sir. There's not an order you could give me that I wouldn't follow. Sir."

  Dad's sad smile was one of sincere appreciation and absolute respect.

  "Thank you, son. My family means the world to me. You're the only person I'd ever consider trusting them with."

  Everything about the scene before us: the respect my father had shown Jayden; the obligation the Surrogate felt; the fact that we were merely minutes away from being separated—possibly forever—had Mom, Tawney, and me sniffling back the tears and gulping down lumps. Soon, everyone but Jayden was gathered around hugging each other desperately. When I glanced over and saw him standing stoically to the side, I reached my hand out, intertwined my fingers with his, and pulled him into our circle of trust, love, and loyalty.

  Suddenly, Mom pulled back and said, "Sam, I blocked Carlie's and Tawney's MicroPharm from Barone's programs. I need to do the same for Jayden. If I don't, they'll follow them through him."

  Everyone jolted to attention. There was only one person in the world who could reprogram the MicroPharm chip, and that was its inventor, my mother.

  She grabbed her scanning device and said, "Carlie, I need you to watch me do this. I've uploaded the instructions in your MicroPharm—password Mommy2020—but doing it on your own will be a lot easier on you if you watch me while I block Jayden's chip," she explained in her most patient teaching voice. The one she always used in her lab.

  Mommy2020.

  Mommy2020.

  Mommy2020.

  I studied her every move while mentally reciting the password in my head, embedding it thoroughly. It was easy. Mommy and her favorite number doubled. Still, it made me feel better to practice my usual memorization exercise.

  I stood behind Mom while she took a handheld device and scanned it over Jayden's chest and then his retina. Once it identified him as Jayden Thomas St. Romaine, she pulled from the back of the device a tiny wireless keyboard, and a few keystrokes later, she had the device's hologram spinning above the scanner. My gaze followed hers.

  At first, there was a green luminescent dot within the scene, which happened to be the middle of a geographically accurate aerial view of the farm and its surroundings. There was no doubt in my mind that the shot was real-time because of the darkness and because I saw the hoe I'd left out of place and against the chicken's cage before supper the night before.

  Beside me, Mom stared on intently. After a flash of red so quick I questioned its existence, she began counting down.

  Ten.

  Nine.

  Eight.

  Seven.

  Six.

  Five.

  Four.

  Three.

  Two.

  One.

  As soon as the word one left her mouth, the green dot representing Jayden disappeared. Mom's exhalation was loud enough for me to assume she'd had some doubts that she'd be able to block Jayden's MicroPharm from Barone's view.

  If she was worried she was going to have trouble, how in the world does she expect me to be able to block anyone from being tracked?

  The task felt intimidating and daunting. I prayed that I'd never be put in a position where I'd have to do such a thing.

  Everything about what she'd just done—what Dad had burdened him with—had Jayden on edge. His nerves were so tight and he was so revved up I suspected I could reach over and pluck him like a guitar.

  As soon as Mom packed up the device and handed it to me, I realized it was time for us to leave, and again, I wondered if I'd ever see my parents again.

  After hearing Jayden's comments about death by firing squad being a very real option for Dad, I wondered how long it would take for President Barone to convince the world that my loyal father was a traitor. Barone's need for Mom, regardless of her mental health, and her knowledge would be the only thing saving either of them. I hoped and prayed for his sake—for all of our sakes—she held it together.

  With the scanner in hand, I
threw my arms around Mom's shoulders and hugged her as if for dear life. Tears pricked my eyes.

  "Stop acting like this," she admonished. "We're going back to the capital. Once we've taken our medicine and know it's safe, we'll contact Jayden. We'll be back together soon enough."

  Mom sounded as if she believed what she was saying, because that was what she needed in order to go through with our plan to separate.

  I nodded. "Don't forget to take some of Elle's tea with you."

  My voice was thick with the tears I refused to shed.

  "I will," she assured me and kissed my forehead long and hard.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Dad and pulled him into our hug.

  His voice was as hoarse and crackly as mine when he said, "Jayden. He's going to need you, Carlie. Help him as much as you can."

  "I will, Dad. I promise."

  From the barn door, Jayden interrupted our good-byes. "Sir, we need to get going."

  Dad kissed the top of my head before pushing me from our hug and gently nudging me toward Jayden, who was holding the barn door open. Nothing about our futures was certain, but that door unquestionably held promises of a life unlike anything I'd ever known, planned for, expected to encounter, one without my parents.

  Ignoring my dread and apprehension, I dropped the scanner in my backpack, threw it across my shoulder, and headed toward my destiny. Jayden held the door open for me as I passed through. Tawney and Gran—filled with trepidation so deep it was palpable in their wake—followed close behind me. We all jerked with a start when the door separating us from my parents closed.

  The night's darkness coupled with the deafening cacophony of nighttime chirps, hoots, and croaks put me on high alert. Thinking about my parents was no longer a luxury any of us could afford.

  Surrogate Soldier St. Romaine was back, and it was going to take everything I had in me to keep up with him and not get myself killed as we maneuvered our way through the dark forest's terrain in the middle of the night.

  * * *

  It had been hours since we'd left the barn at the Coxes' farm. The dawn had come and gone, and the sun was sitting high up in the sky. We'd been tracking our way through the woods for at least eight hours. I was craving a drink of water in a way I'd never craved anything in my life, but I refused to show the first sign of weakness.

  The late spring day, its unseasonal heat, and its one hundred percent humidity were stifling. The sweating caused by the toxic combination only made me thirstier.

  Like me, Tawney had her light-brown hair pulled up in a tail and its loose ends worked into a ball and piled onto the top of her head. The strays were caked onto her cheeks and forehead and dripping wet. As I watched a bead of sweat trickle from a strand of hair, over her brow, and into her eye, I instinctively wiped my own brow.

  My cousin had always been frailer than me. Her weaknesses were invisible to anyone looking in from the outside. It was the people within our circle of trust who knew and understood how hard it was for her to keep up when we hiked long ways or for long periods of time.

  During our years of survival training, Jayden had always gone out of his way to keep an eye on Tawney and pretend as though he needed rest breaks so she wouldn't have to ask for them… so she wouldn't collapse beneath his unrealistic expectations.

  The fact that he'd not stopped the first time or catered to Tawney's frailty by slowing down the tiniest bit was a reminder of just how much danger we were in. Pure adrenaline was all that had kept us going this far and this long.

  When Tawney took a stumble, one that she had a hard time coming up from, anger lanced through me.

  I stopped next to her, offered my hand, and yelled in Jayden's direction.

  "She needs to rest!"

  He was so lost in his world that I'm not sure he would have ever noticed that he'd lost his entourage if I'd not said anything. Shaking himself from his daze, he looked behind him, toward us, and furrowed his brow.

  Tawney saw Jayden's disappointment as he looked down at his watch, one that was doubling as our navigation, and sighed.

  "I-I don't need to rest, Jayden. I can keep going," Tawney said weakly.

  Visually, Jayden performed a critical assessment of my cousin and nodded his head. "Carlie's right. We've gone long enough. Everyone needs a break."

  Gran didn't wait for any more permission. He dropped down next to a log and leaned his head back, closing his eyes and looking like he'd just sprawled out on a luxurious bed of feathers instead of a hard ground covered with moldy bracken.

  Tawney and I quickly followed his lead. As soon as I was off my feet, I understood how Gran could look so contented. My feet throbbed in relief to be weightless and still. I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to get my shoes back on if I took them off or I'd have done just that and massaged the arches, balls, and heels of my feet.

  With the respite we'd been granted, every muscle in my body relaxed in gratitude. I could barely breathe much less move or speak. At least, that was what I'd sworn until Jayden pulled from his backpack four bottles of water. As soon as I saw them, I contemplated leaping over Tawney and Gran and snatching all of them from his hands. I was sure I could drink every last drop in all of them and still be thirsty.

  Jayden saw how thirsty we were and tossed one to each of us. I caught mine and had it downed within a minute. As I'd suspected, I greedily wanted more, but I was sated enough and lucid enough to know I'd had all I needed.

  As if Jayden were superhuman, he stayed upright and protectively walked circles around us. He, making me hate him more than ever, looked like he could hike another eight hours and never break a sweat.

  If he hadn't been glancing nervously in the direction from which we'd come, I'd have thought he was calm and casual as ever. It was then I admitted to myself that nothing was as it seemed with Jayden.

  When Jayden mentioned Isaiah earlier, I'd known exactly whom he'd been referring to. I'd met the Surrogate Isaiah Manniless several times. Every time, Isaiah had leered at me like he was as desperate to be with me as I'd been for water a few minutes ago. The last time, the only time Jayden had been around, he'd eyed me with that curled-lip smirk, and Jayden had gotten in lots of trouble with Dad.

  "I'm here because your father and President Barone told me to wait here," Isaiah had informed me after he'd scared me nearly to death when I'd run into him wandering uninhibited and unannounced through my house.

  I'd just returned from school and hadn't expected anyone to be home. Finding him had been more than just a little frightening. Once my racing heart had slowed, I'd walked toward the kitchen. "Would you like to have a snack? I'm starving," I'd said over my shoulder.

  He'd followed behind me and said, "Sure."

  I'd assumed that while I stepped into the walk-in pantry to retrieve a snack meant to tide me over until supper, Isaiah would wait where he'd been standing near the island. Rather than do that, he'd followed me into the rather small pantry and studied the options himself. I'd pretended to ignore him, but his proximity made that nearly impossible.

  "How about some pita chips and hummus?" I'd finally asked.

  When Isaiah didn't respond, I glanced back at him. He was staring—leering—at me, studying me much more intently than either of us had studied our snack options.

  "Do you know how pretty you are, Carlie?" he'd asked.

  Glancing away, I'd shrugged and tried my best to act as though he and his question hadn't made me uncomfortable.

  "Pita chips and hummus it is," I'd sung, grabbing the chips, attempting to squeeze my way out of the pantry.

  Isaiah had put his hand on the doorframe, blocking my exit.

  "You're the only Procreate girl I've ever met who doesn't treat Surrogates like they're less than them," he'd mumbled after leaning into my ear.

  "I reserve the right to treat all assholes as if they are less than me. Other than that, I don't believe there's any difference between Procreates and Surrogates. We all have hearts, souls, and the facilities to kn
ow and understand the difference between right and wrong," I'd said, hoping honesty would gain me passage out of the pantry.

  "Yeah. That's what I mean. You treat St. Romaine as if you actually consider him your equal."

  I rolled my eyes. "Isaiah, I've seen you at the ice cream parlor. You always have several girls hanging off your arms and onto your every word."

  "They see a pretty face they'd like to date… maybe even roll around in the hay with a time or two. They don't see me as a long-term option. You're not like them. St. Romaine is one lucky son of a bitch," he'd whispered close enough to my ear that I could feel the warmth of his breath.

  Swallowing my fear, I'd pulled back and said, "You do know Jayden, right? I'm not his equal because he has no equal. My goal in life is to be half the person he is."

  Isaiah closed what little distance there was between. "He has an equal. It's me. There's nothing he can do that I can't do better. The only thing he has that I don't have is you… a Procreate who'd put his wellbeing before her own."

  I'd put my hands on Isaiah's chest and said, "I'm not here to debate who is the better fighter. I can tell you that you seem to have the wrong impression about Jayden and me. We're like brother and sister. Not boyfriend and girlfriend."

  Isaiah put his hands over mine, imprisoning them to his chest.

  "That's all the better. He won't give a shit if you and I hook up, and hook up is what I'd love to do with you," he'd said before leaning over and kissing me on the lips.

  I'd been too shocked to move out of the way, to stop the kiss, to do anything but stand frozen in my spot while he'd kissed me thoroughly, sliding his hands around to my back and pulling me into him.

  One minute he'd been kissing me. The next he'd been sprawled out on the kitchen floor, holding his bleeding nose and glaring up at a very angry Jayden who'd been standing over him and looking as if killing him was a very real possibility.

  Before I could reason with Jayden and let him know Isaiah hadn't harmed me—not really—Dad and Barone had come barreling into the kitchen. Since neither man had known about the kiss and I'd been too embarrassed to mention it, there was an assumption that Isaiah and Jayden's long-standing rivalry had finally escalated to the point of brutality.