31

ALORA

MARCH 30, 2147

I don’t know what to say. As soon as Zed and Elijah walk up with Bridger trailing behind them, I realize I’ve been set up.

My head swivels from Everly to Tara. “Seriously? You two had to do this?”

“You need to get over whatever little spat you two had,” Tara says to me. “I can see you’ve been miserable, and when I’m with the boys, it’s obvious Bridger isn’t happy either. You two need to talk.”

Everly holds up both hands. “Hey, I’m going along with what Tara said. I don’t know anything about him,” she says with a glance at Bridger, “But I do know that you’re not acting the same as you used to. You’re more … sullen.”

My first thought is to tell them that they’re ridiculous, but that would be a complete lie. I’ve carried around a heaviness for the past month, and it all started with the fight with Bridger, and immediately after finding my father—only to discover that he had been forced to kill all those people to protect me. Which is why I told Professor March, who in turned informed his sister at the DTA. From there, she delivered the information as a tip from an anonymous source. I got some satisfaction, at least, from learning that most everyone at that farm house had been arrested.

And that didn’t include Dad. He got away.

But it’s been still been hard to get through each day, and I’m not sure I would have made it without my mom, Tara, and Everly. The girls have been my lifeline. Even though they don’t know what I learned about my Dad, they both noticed that I was sinking into an abyss afterward, and they tried to cheer me up. Soon, we were spending time together at school every evening before curfew.

I lace my fingers together in my lap and stare at them. What should I do? Get up and go find Mom? She’s shopping at the vendor booths with Everly’s mom. They became fast friends just as Everly and I did. It’s through my mom that I learned that Everly and her mother applied to come to the US to get away from Everly’s abusive father. No matter where they went in England, he always followed, ignoring the restraining orders they had against him. They were only able to escape him by getting approval from the NAF to come here, where he couldn’t follow. The NAF would never agree to let a freaking psychopath like him in the country.

Elijah pushes Bridger forward. “What are you waiting for, man? Go talk to her. We’ll give you some privacy.”

Zed gives us a wolfish grin. “Yeah, I’m sure you two could use a little of what I saw the last time you were together.”

Heat blooms in my cheeks while Bridger glares at him. “Will you shut up?” he says.

Zed clutches his chest, still grinning. “Oh, the heartache I’m experiencing. Your words slay me, Creed.”

My lips twitch. God, I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed being around Elijah and Zed until now. So I decide to give in. “Oh, fine. I’ll talk to you,” I say to Bridger.

Tara and Everly scramble to stand. I shake my head at them. “You two owe me.”

“Oh no, I think you’ll owe us. Right, Ev?” Tara says.

“Absolutely. Now to figure out how she can repay us.”

“You can leave now,” Bridger says, still scowling.

Tara loops her arm through Elijah’s. “I want to dance. And don’t even think about telling me no.”

Elijah gets a pained look on his face. “You know I have no rhythm.”

“I do, and I don’t care,” she answers as she pulls him away. Over her shoulder, she calls out, “We’ll be back soon. Ev, get Zed out of there.”

Zed turns to Everly and holds out his arm to her. “Care to join me, beautiful?”

She raises her eyebrows. “I’m just gonna tell you up front. I’m not into boys, so don’t even think about hitting on me.”

Zed doesn’t miss a beat. “Well, that’s unfortunate for me, but whatever. We can get something to eat. I haven’t been invited to any feasts—unlike Bridger here.”

Everly looks like she’s not sure what to think about Zed, but she says, “You know, you’re really odd. But I think we’ll get along.” Her eyes cut to me. “I hope we do, anyway.”

After they’re gone, Bridger sits on the bench next to me, careful not to touch me. We watch the crowd all around us. There don’t seem to be as many Purists in the audience as there are Gen Mods. I had such a hard time identifying Gen Mods at first, but it’s become easier over time. Almost every Gen Mod looks, well, perfect. Perfect skin, unless they have a scar like my mom’s. Perfect hair. Perfectly proportioned bodies. Many are Talents, but they’re impossible to tell unless they’re wearing a uniform.

Bridger looks at me, his eyes wary. “I thought you hated me.”

I lean back a little, surprised. “I don’t hate you. Well, I did a little bit, then, but I had the right.” I force myself to look him in the eye. “You dismissed everything I said the last time we were together. Why wouldn’t you listen to me?”

“You know why,” he says, looking around nervously. “This was a bad idea. What if my dad is spying on us again? He’ll make good on his threat to turn you in.”

“I don’t think he will. I mean, if he wanted to, he would have done it already. How long has it been since you talked to last talked to him?” I ask.

“Over a month,” Bridger replies.

“You know what I think? I think he’s been too busy going on whatever missions Anderson has been assigning to him. Try to relax. At least for today.”

Bridger flashes a grin at me, displaying his dimples. “I’ll try. So what’s been going on with you? Did you ever go in search of your father?”

Here it is, the moment of truth. Answer honestly and risk rejection, or lie? But I don’t want to lie anymore. Carefully, I say, “I did find him.”

A tiny crease forms between Bridger’s eyes, and nothing else. “Okay. And how did that go?”

My mouth goes dry. “Things weren’t that great.”

I tell him about the Purist compound run by Jode Lincoln, where Dad was practically being held prisoner. How they were threatening to hurt me to control him, how he wouldn’t leave with me because he thought he was a monster.

“What did he do that made him think he was that bad?” Bridger asks.

If there was a time to stretch the truth, this would be it. But I don’t want any more secrets between us. Still, I can’t look directly at Bridger as I say, “Dad was the gunman at the museum massacres. They forced him to shift back in time over and over again, until he shot up all the museums that Jode Lincoln had chosen.”

Bridger’s eyes seem to bulge out and his face flushes. “He what? He was the person who hurt my brother?”

Oh God, I didn’t think of how that information would affect Bridger. Now he will hate my father forever.

Bridger starts to say something, but the deafening sound of an explosion cuts him off. Fire and smoke shoot up into the sky to our right. Screams pierce the air like knives, and people begin running, trying to flee the area. Then another blast goes off to our left. And thirty seconds later, another goes off directly across from us.

I jump to my feet, but Bridger grabs my hand.

“Wait a second,” he says, his eyes searching the crowd. My instinct is to get away as fast as I can. What if another explosion goes off closer to us? But I also understand what he’s doing—we need to find our friends.

Elijah and Tara run at us through the throng of people trying to flee. When they reach us, Tara asks, “Did you see what happened?”

“No. Did you?” I ask.

“No,” Elijah replies.

“Have you seen Zed and Everly?” Bridger asks.

Elijah and Tara shake their heads. Bridger suggests splitting up to find them, but I don’t want any part of that. “We need to stay together, no matter what,” I say.

They agree and we slip into the surge of people still running past us. My mom and Everly’s find us first—she must have been tracking my DataLink. Mom throws her arms around me, and I feel her shaking. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so happy you’re okay.”

“Where’s Everly?” her mother asks in a frantic voice.

“She went with our friend Zed,” I say. “We’re looking for them now.”

“I’ll track her,” she says, lifting her wrist to check her DataLink. “I thought she’d be with you.”

I look at the ground. Everly was supposed to stay with me. I hope she’s okay. She has to be okay.

I glance at Mom, but she’s not focusing on me anymore. Her eyebrows shoot up when she sees Elijah and Tara. And when her eyes land on Bridger, standing off to the side, she looks stunned.

“It’s you,” she whispers, her face turning even paler. “Both of you remember?”

My heart skips a beat. Of all the places for her to learn the truth about Bridger and me, it had to be here. But I can’t worry about that now. “Mom, we need to find Everly and Zed. We can talk later.”

“Right. This isn’t over,” she replies, her eyes slitting at Bridger.

Everly’s mother points behind in front of us. “I see her! Over there.”

We all set off, dodging people who are still trying to run away. We call out Everly’s name.

She turns around, her arms clutched against her chest. I gasp and her mother screams. She’s covered with soot and blood.

Her mom races to her and yells, “Are you hurt?”

As we catch up, we hear Everly’s response. “It’s not my blood. It’s not mine.” She’s sobbing, shaking. “He was right there … I left him in line because I needed to use the restroom, but I didn’t get that far when I heard the explosion. I tried … I went back and tried to save him and I couldn’t. I couldn’t save him, Mom.”

She turns to look behind her, and lets out a wail again.

Bridger’s face loses all color. Elijah shakes his head slowly in disbelief. Police officers are screaming at everyone to clear the area. What’s left of a nearby food booth is in flames, and injured people are scattered all around the blast perimeter. A few are writhing and moaning in pain. Most aren’t moving. There’s so much blood everywhere. And something else. As we advance, I realize what it is.

Parts of bodies.

My stomach lurches and I get a flashback of seeing Dad’s body when he died in 1994, when his consciousness was uploaded by the team of Time Benders who recorded everything.

And then we see Zed.

Or what’s left of him.