I FELT THE gun in my hand then, as I was sucked back into Haven Valley. My finger was reacting to the trigger, and there wasn’t enough time to stop it. All I could do was tilt my wrist slightly so that when the bullet left the gun it didn’t sink into her heart.
I felt the bullet shoot from the pistol, its blowback rippling up my arm. A split second later, I heard it crush through flesh and tissue, grinding a hole through Zoe’s chest with a gruesome thud.
She inhaled in pain and stumbled backward, her face washed pale, before I could even drop my weapon. And then she fell to her knees, tears brimming in her eyes.
I recovered my breath then. It had all happened so quickly. I gasped and dived to catch her before she fell to the earth. She fell against my chest, and I could feel her ragged breaths as her body began to succumb to the injury. Propped up on my knees, I rolled Zoe so she was facing up toward me, her body in my arms.
Warm blood soaked through the front of her shirt. I could feel it thick on the place where it had transferred to my own shirt, and on my arms as it dripped down the side of her body.
“Zoe,” I said, holding her tightly, adjusting her face toward me. Tears blurred my vision. “I’m so sorry, I—” My words caught in my throat, and I couldn’t think of anything to say that could help.
My training broke through my emotions, and I remembered I hadn’t hit her heart. I’d sunk the bullet just off to the left. How far, I couldn’t be positive, hopefully far enough that I missed any ligaments attached to the spinal column or diaphragm or . . . Oh, God, I thought.
I shook it off. It wouldn’t matter what I’d hit if we didn’t get her to a hospital quickly. She’d bleed to death. I turned to look over my shoulder and saw Seeley standing a few feet away, looking on with a pale expression.
“Help me!” I shouted. “We have to get her help.”
He didn’t respond.
“Seeley, help me!”
“She was a loose end, Number Nine,” he said.
“She’ll die if we don’t get her somewhere quickly,” I said, shifting my weight so I could get my feet underneath me and lift Zoe. I turned toward the truck. “There’s a city close. If we leave now—”
“No, Number Nine,” Seeley said. “This was always her end.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Number Nine, I order you to—”
I stepped past him toward the vehicle. “I don’t follow orders anymore.” I could feel the familiar compulsion to obey that had been birthed into me, the desire to do as I was asked. But I could also feel the idea of a new truth growing beside it. I could change. Choose. Olivia had told me. Zoe had told me. I could be whoever and whatever I wanted. And right now, I wanted to save Zoe’s life.
“Number Nine!” Seeley shouted.
I ignored him, opened the back door of the Jeep, and carefully laid Zoe’s body inside. She’d gone limp a moment ago, which meant she was unconscious. There wasn’t much time. I shut the door and moved toward the driver’s side.
“Lucy, listen to me,” Seeley tried.
“Don’t call me that either,” I said over my shoulder.
“Then who are you?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet.”
I heard a familiar click and paused. I was facing away from him but could see the weapon in his hand through the reflection of a store window.
“I don’t care who you are,” he said. “You’re coming with me.”
“Or you’ll shoot me?” I asked. I was momentarily afraid, but again my training crept through and I started looking for exit routes and fixes for the problem I was facing. The gun I’d fired at Zoe lay on the ground to my right. If I moved fast enough, I could get it. But could I get a shot off before he did?
Did I want to be the kind of person who took another human’s life? The question popped into my mind and struck a deep chord within me. Killing was exactly what I’d been trained to do. But I wasn’t who I’d been trained to be anymore. If I acted out of the same programming, then what made me any different? If I wanted to be different, I had to react differently.
Who did I want to be?
I wanted to risk as much as Zoe had risked saving me. Even if it meant being shot in the back. I ignored the urge to defend myself and took a couple of steps toward the driver’s door.
“Number Nine! You have to come back with me,” Seeley said.
“I’m never going back there,” I replied.
“They have my daughter!”
I stopped and glanced at him to see tears welling in his eyes. Without needing explanation, the story of how he got here unfolded in my brain. Hammon was exploiting him by threatening his daughter.
“Hammon will kill her,” Seeley said, a tear streaming down his cheek. “You know he will. She’s not even eleven.” He barely got the words out before a cry blocked his airway. His extended arm began to quiver, then his shoulders started to shake. As if years of emotion balled up inside his muscles released all at once, he broke.
I had never seen a man cry, and the severity of his anguish broke my heart. Again the question Who do you want to be? echoed through my mind. And I knew. Moving swiftly, I approached Seeley, who’d dropped his weapon, his shoulders slumped forward, his agony threatening to drag him to the ground. I didn’t hesitate or wait for permission. I wrapped my arms around him and drew him close.
He didn’t resist. He fell into my embrace, and in that moment both of us ignored the way the world had taught us to act. Instead we leaned on one another, becoming more than what we’d believed we could be. I would have held him for as long as he needed, but Zoe was dying, and his daughter was running out of time. I reached into my programming and began to calculate a plan. The Grantham Project had given me these tools. Best to show them how I could use them.
SEELEY HADN’T WANTED to move, sitting there in an embrace of kindness—something he hadn’t encountered in as long as he could remember—but they couldn’t afford to linger there. He’d been a mixed bag of embarrassed and relieved. Regretful and hopeful. Something had started to break inside him. Whether it was because they were in that place or because he’d watched both Zoe and Lucy vacillate between what they should be and what they wanted to be, questions of his own had begun to manifest.
Questions he’d lay aside for now so he could focus on the task at hand. First they had to deal with Zoe. Lucy was right, she needed medical attention, but Seeley knew they couldn’t just walk her into a hospital. For starters, any gunshot wound would immediately alert the authorities. Second, Hammon had ears and eyes everywhere.
Seeley managed to convince Lucy to listen to him. Using a burner phone he found in McCoy’s Jeep, he placed a call to an old army buddy who specialized in undocumented medical help. He owed Seeley a favor and wasn’t too far away. He needed an hour, so they assigned a rendezvous spot and used the time to hatch a plan. It was clear. It could work. If not, he’d pay with his life. But Cami wouldn’t. That’s what he told himself over and over.
They met Seeley’s old colleague at a dingy motel outside of Chattanooga. They paid for a couple days in cash and stepped aside as the retired doctor got to work. He didn’t say so, but Seeley could tell from the expression on his face that Zoe was in bad shape.
“How’d this happen?” the doctor asked.
“I shot her,” Lucy replied.
He glanced up at her with a pensive expression. “You narrowly missed her heart.”
“I know,” Lucy said.
Without any further discussion, Seeley’s comrade began his work.
“Please don’t let her die,” Lucy whispered, more tears gathering in her eyes.
The doctor didn’t pause as he injected Zoe’s limp arm with a clear liquid. “I can’t make any promises.”
“We need to go, Lucy,” Seeley said.
She looked at him, her expression pleading for there to be another way. He could see the struggle she was facing, leaving Zoe here. But she also knew they didn’t have another choice.
As they stepped out of the hotel room she said, “Call me Number Nine, because that’s who I need to be for now.”
He nodded. He knew that what was going to be required of her would be difficult. She was going to carry the weight of it, and he would support her the best he could.
They left McCoy’s Jeep stashed in the woods that surrounded the city and drove Seeley’s agency car back to Xerox. It took them eight hours, which they rode in silence.
Seeley glanced over at Number Nine as he pulled the truck up to an entry point, a group of armed agents approaching. “Ready?” he asked.
She didn’t reply but glanced back, focused as ever.
That was answer enough.
The doors on both sides of the truck were opened, and half a dozen weapons aimed at them as they climbed out, arms raised. The moment Seeley’s feet hit land, an agent yanked him from the vehicle, and another secured his hands behind his back. They carefully led Number Nine away from the truck as well, but without the restraints.
Both were led into Xerox’s main building. The same one Seeley had regarded as home at one point. Now it felt foreign and uninviting. They were taken through the main entrance and toward the back elevators. A walk of shame for agents who didn’t follow orders.
The elevator dropped to the last accessible level without high security clearance. The doors opened to Hammon, who was accompanied by four more armed agents. His suit was crisp as always, his eyes calm.
Seeley’s fury toward the man raged like fire under his skin. He was yanked out from the elevator with Number Nine close behind. The doors shut, and for a moment those gathered stood in silence.
“Good to see you understand reason,” Hammon said, his eyes on Seeley.
“I want reassurances that Cami is safe,” Seeley said.
“And Miss Johnson?” Hammon asked.
“Dead,” Number Nine said. “I shot her.”
Hammon stepped toward her and cocked his head slightly, as if surveying a painting to determine its authenticity. Seeley felt a knot form in his chest.
“You brought her body with you for disposal?” Hammon asked.
“No, sir,” Seeley answered.
A spark of intrigue lit his expression.
“Traveling across state lines with a dead body in the back was too much of a security risk,” Number Nine jumped in. Her voice was calm and collected, as if her explanation was the only acceptable course of action. “We burned the body outside of Haven Valley and disposed of the remains. If you want to recover them, you can do so.” She lied as if she believed it herself.
There were no remains, of course. But travel to Haven Valley would take a few hours. If Hammon insisted on sending a team, Seeley and Number Nine would have time to execute the rest of the plan.
“You should have transported the subject back to Xerox according to protocol,” Hammon said.
“Yes, unless following protocol endangers the security of home base, then I’m to take lead on protective measures,” Number Nine answered. “The security of home base must be protected at all costs.”
Hammon took another pause. He was an intelligent man who wouldn’t be fooled easily. He glanced back to two of the waiting agents and nodded. He would send a team, which just shrank their timeline.
He turned his attention back to Seeley. “Escort Agent Seeley to level A.” Prison, as promised. The other two agents moved forward to comply.
Seeley yanked against their hold. “I want to see that Cami is safe,” he called toward Hammon. “That was the deal.”
Hammon took a long look at Seeley, then pulled his cell phone out of the inner pocket of his jacket. He keyed in a short number and held it to his ear, his eyes never leaving Seeley’s face. When a voice answered on the other side, he said, “Stand down.” He snapped the phone shut.
“I want to see her,” Seeley pressed.
“Take him,” Hammon said to the agents, ignoring Seeley.
“If anything happens—”
“Nothing will happen to her, Agent,” Hammon said. “But you will not see your daughter again.” He nodded to the agents, who yanked Seeley away.
Seeley stole a quick glance at Number Nine, her face cold as stone. Dread opened up inside his chest. He’d watched her flip back and forth many times now. What if she flipped again? What if they really were walking him to his eternal imprisonment? What if she never came for him?
Number Nine and Hammon disappeared from view as Seeley was escorted around the corner and down the hall. He had no control over what happened next. It was all up to her now. God help them.