37

BRIDGER

APRIL 4, 2147

“He’s waking up,” a familiar voice says. It sounds like Shan.

I open my eyes and find myself lying on a bed in a dim room. Shan is sitting next to me, and Grandma is standing at the foot of the bed. They’re both wearing Inhibitors around their necks, like I am.

I swear, I’ve never seen Grandma look so angry in my life. And I’m angry, too. At Dad, at Anderson—even at her.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, her face softening a bit.

“I’d probably feel a bit better if I hadn’t just found out that the psycho leading the DTA is my biological grandfather. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Wait, what?” Shan asks, his mouth dropping open in shock. “Anderson is our—”

“Grandfather,” I finish.

We both look expectantly at Grandma and she lets out a loud huff. “There was nothing to tell. He was assigned to me as a sperm donor. I had Leithan. I had the option to involve Anderson in Leithan’s life, but I declined. End of story.” I want to ask even more questions, but Grandma holds up her hand. “I said end of story. I will not talk about that man anymore.”

I push myself into a sitting position and take in my surroundings. The room is windowless, with steel-gray walls and floors, and recessed lights. It holds just two beds in addition to the one I’m sitting on, a desk, and several sturdy chairs. Nothing extra for comfort.

“To answer your question, I guess I’m okay,” I say. That’s a lie. My head is pounding. “Where are we?”

“You can’t remember what happened?” Grandma asks.

As soon as she says those words, the memory returns in a rush: my dad pushed Alora over the side of the DTA building. I lean over, gasping for air. It’s like someone just punched me. Alora couldn’t have survived that fall.

She’s dead.

Just like so many more people will be dead after tomorrow. Ellis was right all along.

Grandma sits next to me and begins rubbing my back. “Bridger, you have to compose yourself. Anderson had to give you two doses of Calmer already in the shuttle. You don’t need any more right now.”

“But why … why did Dad do that? He didn’t have to push her over the side,” I say in a quivering voice. I cover my face with my hands and then run them down my cheeks. “And the bioweapon. We have to figure out a way to stop it.”

“Aren’t you even worried about Mom?” Shan asks.

“What? Of course I am.” I glance around the room, looking for her. “Is she here?”

“Are you serious? Dad hates Mom. When he came to get me, she tried to stop him and he hit her with a full-blast stun three times. I mean, at least she punched him first.” Shan’s breathing is heavier now, and his face is scrunched up like he’s about to cry. “But I don’t know if she’s dead or alive, Bridger. I don’t know.”

Shan’s words, along with the look of horror on his face, give me a punched-in-the-gut feeling. Mom can’t be gone. She can’t. I know we’ve clashed a lot over the years, but I can’t imagine my life without her.

I thought my world ended when Dad died last year. I didn’t think anything could feel any worse. But this, I can’t deal with it. Alora dead. Mom hurt or possibly dead. So many people doomed to die tomorrow. All because of blind hatred and fear.

It’s Dad’s part in this that’s really killing me. I feel so betrayed. He was my hero. I’ve wanted to be just like him, my whole life. And now he’s becoming this … thing.

Like Grandma said, a monster.

Grandma draws Shan to the bed and wraps her arms around us both. For a moment, we just sit. Then she says, “Boys, I want you to know that thing Anderson resurrected isn’t your father. He may have his memories, and he may have a replica of Leithan’s body, but he is not Leithan. Your father would never have agreed to murder so many innocent people.”

“How do you know that for sure, Grandma?” Shan asks. He leans back and wipes tears from his eyes. “Dad worked with General Anderson for years. We don’t know what Dad learned from him. I mean, on the way over here, Dad told me I could start calling the general Grandpa.”

I almost puke, hearing Shan say that. The general’s confession today was sick. We may share genes with him, but he’ll never be family.

Grandma’s features settle into a gritty determination. “It means nothing. They are nothing to us.”

I still want to know where we are, but before I can ask the outlines of two people appear, wavering near the foot of the bed.

And then Alora and Nate Walker materialize.