Defector Page 13

  “How does it feel?” Devon asked hesitantly, as if he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer.

  “You mean, to incorporate a person’s data?” A moment too late I realized how cold that must have sounded to Devon, but I couldn’t take the words back.

  “Yeah, if that’s what you call it,” he said. There was an edge in his voice as he kept his gaze trained on the windshield.

  “It’s hard to describe. I can feel my body absorb the information. It’s a bit like a charge, like a flow of energy. My body memorizes the DNA, and most of the time my shape is eager to change immediately.”

  “How was it to touch Maddy? Was it different because she was . . .”

  I didn’t know how to answer him. I wasn’t really sure if her case had felt much different. That day had been too stressful for me to remember every detail.

  Devon rubbed a hand across his eyes, and a heavy silence fell over us. I thought it might suffocate me. But I didn’t know what to do.

  After a few minutes, Devon cleared his throat. “I’ve been wondering since I found out about your Variation: Have you ever tried to change into an animal?” I could tell that it was difficult for him to make his voice sound calm and light.

  My lips turned up in a shaky smile. “Oh no. My Variation doesn’t work that way. I don’t feel anything when I touch animals. My body definitely doesn’t absorb their data. It only works on other humans.”

  “Why do you think that is?” Devon asked, his shoulders losing some of their tension.

  “I assume that absorbing another species’ data is unnatural.”

  “As opposed to turning into another human being?” I glanced at Devon’s face to make sure that he hadn’t said it with resentment, but he gave nothing away.

  “I know it seems wrong,” I said quietly.

  Devon shook his head. “No, it’s not. I didn’t want to make you feel bad. We can’t help our Variations. It’s not perfectly normal to be able to heal people. I know that.”

  “Yeah, normal’s got nothing to do with us,” I joked. Devon leaned back in his seat, the last of his tension disappearing from his body. “But honestly, I definitely can’t turn into an animal. I’ve tried.”

  “You have?” Devon’s eyes flashed to mine, filled with curiosity. “Let me guess: a cute little puppy.”

  I snorted. “Hell no. You couldn’t be further from the truth.” I raised my eyebrows in a silent challenge.

  Devon flexed his arms. “I like a good challenge.” He ran his eyes over me, like that would give him a clue. Did I resemble any kind of animal? If he said hippo or hyena, I’d kick his ass. I felt my neck flush when his gaze hovered on me much longer than it should have. “A sloth.”

  “Now you’re trying to insult me,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. Dimples flashed on his cheeks.

  “Hand on my heart. I’d never do something like that.” But I could see from the look on his face that he was looking for an animal that would really make me crazy.

  “A spider,” he guessed. Expectation flickered on his face. Did he think I’d start screaming like a little girl?

  “Nope. I think my body would implode if I tried to turn myself into something that small.”

  He frowned. “Aren’t you afraid of spiders?”

  “Why would I be? Except for a few species, they’re perfectly harmless. They can’t hurt me.”

  “I know,” he said. “But most girls are scared of them. What about bugs in general?”

  I shook my head.

  “Centipedes?”

  I shook my head, suppressing a grin.

  “Cockroaches?” I shook my head again. He hit the steering wheel with his palm. “Oh, come on. There has to be something you’re terrified of!”

  There were plenty of things I was terrified of. But creepy-crawlies weren’t one of them. There were worse things in this world than vermin with eight legs and four eyes. But I wasn’t going to tell Devon that, or the light mood would go up in flames.

  “Sorry. It looks like I’m a freak in more than one way.”

  “Actually, I think it’s kind of cool,” Devon said. “So will you tell me now?”

  “A chameleon.”

  “That’s it? But with your Variation, you’re practically a chameleon already.”

  “Not really. A chameleon can adapt to the color of its surroundings. It can blend in. That was something I never managed.”

  “But you seemed to blend in just fine in Livingston,” he said. And I realized he was right.

  • • •

  We’d been on the road for more than eight hours when Devon pulled the car into a small rest area surrounded by forest. Dusk was turning our surroundings gray. He parked the car in a tree-covered spot that was shielded from view, and we got out of the truck’s cab. Despite it being spring, the evenings and nights were icy. I pulled on my winter jacket as I scrambled onto the bed of the truck. Devon swung himself up beside me, and together we pitched the tent, so we’d be protected from wind and weather. We crawled into our sleeping bags. The inside of the tent smelled like the great outdoors—reminiscent of bonfires and mold. My nose began tingling.

  There wasn’t much room in the tent, so Devon and I sat pressed against each other. “Do you think it’ll be freezing tonight?” I whispered.

  Devon zipped the sleeping bag up to his chest and turned on the flashlight. Behind the thin material of the tent, I could see that the last sunrays had disappeared. “It might be, but these sleeping bags withstand temperatures far below the freezing point. We’ll be fine.”

  I nodded. With Devon’s side pressed against mine, his body warmth creeping into me, I knew we would be. “So you grew up in Detroit?” Devon asked.

  “Not really. I grew up in a lot of places,” I said. Devon’s eyes searched my face, and after a moment he nodded as if he understood, but I doubted that was the case.

  “So what about your mother? If she’s a Variant, as you said, is it possible that she could take on other appearances like you do?”

  The red stamps reading “Volatile” flashed in my mind. There was so much I didn’t know about my mother. I knew more facts about Devon’s family than I did about my own. “Her Variation is regeneration. I don’t think that entails changing into other people. I think she can just make her cells renew themselves, so she looks young again.”

  Devon frowned. It was strange how good it felt to be shoulder to shoulder with him. I’d never felt more alone than when I’d found out about Alec’s and the FEA’s betrayal, but it was comforting to learn I still had Devon. “Would you even recognize her if she looked, like, twenty?”

  I tried to recall my mother’s face the last time I’d seen her, but that had been more than two years ago. I leaned forward, heaved my bag onto my legs, and pulled out the photo of my mother that I’d found in the file—but kept the photos with Abel and my brother, Zachary, hidden. “I think it would actually be easier for me if she looked younger, back when life was made of happy memories. The truth is, I hardly remember how she looked two years ago.” I handed the photo to Devon. He shined the flashlight on it, his eyes scrunching up to get a better look. “I was one in that photo,” I explained, “and to the best of my knowledge, my mother was in her twenties.”

  Devon’s expression softened. “You and your mom look so happy here.”

  I glanced over at it—at the loving smile on my mother’s face, at her smooth skin, at the way she held me close to her. My smile was wide, showing off my first few teeth, and I looked like I couldn’t be happier anywhere but on my mother’s lap. “I suppose we were happy at that time.”

  “So what happened?” He handed the photo back to me, and I stuffed it into my bag, where it couldn’t bring up hurtful memories.

  I’d asked myself that question so often and always come up short, but now I thought that I might know th
e answer. “We moved a lot. Later on I thought it was because my mother was worried someone might find out about my Variation, but now I think she might have been running from Abel’s Army.”

  “If she was so worried about Abel’s Army, why do you think she didn’t return to the FEA? You said she’d lived in headquarters for a few years, right?” Devon shifted, and the friction of our shoulders rubbing against each other gave me goose bumps. It was still weird to be this close to Devon; I’d always thought Alec would be the one to stand by me if anything went downhill. I never would have thought that he might be the reason why it went downhill in the first place.

  I could feel Devon staring at me. “I don’t know,” I said. “But I need to find out. That’s why we need to find her.” I tried to think back to the happier years with my mother, but the early memories were almost faded. “I don’t think the happy period lasted for long. I think the running got to my mother pretty fast, but what really did her in was when I showed signs of my Variation. It reminded her of everything she’d worked so hard to forget. I think that’s when she lost it and started hating me.”

  Devon’s hand reached for mine, and he laced my fingers through his. He did it with such an ease and casualness, as if we’d been friends—or more—for years. “She doesn’t hate you,” he said softly. But he couldn’t know. He had never met my mother, had never seen the disgust in her eyes when she’d caught me using my talent.

  I didn’t say anything, just closed my eyes.

  • • •

  I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep, but it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours from the way my body felt. Sluggishly I lifted my head, wondering what had woken me. The beam of a spotlight swiveled across our tent. I peered out of the gap. It was dark outside except for the spotlights, but I could make out the shape of police lights on the roof of a car.

  “Devon,” I hissed, shaking his shoulder. He turned around, blinking back sleep.

  “What’s up?”

  “The police,” I said quietly. Devon sat up, eyes wide. “They’re searching for us. You have to get out and hide somewhere. Quick!”

  He got to his knees, confusion showing on his face. “Why?”

  “Hurry,” I whispered. “I’m fine here, but you need to stay hidden.” When the police car pulled into the parking lot, there was a moment when the trees hid the truck bed from their view. “Now.” I half pushed Devon out of the tent. He landed with a gentle thud on the asphalt, and I watched him dart into the bushes beside the truck, crouching in the brush. We couldn’t risk being caught. I wriggled out of my clothes, stashed them in my sleeping bag, then snatched jogging pants and a shirt from Devon’s bag and gingerly slipped them on.

  The crunching of tires on asphalt stopped close by. The police car had come to a halt beside ours. I took a deep breath, recalled the memory of Uncle Scott’s appearance, and let the rippling wash over me. I heard their steps coming closer and saw the beam of a flashlight growing larger and brighter as they approached the tent. I lay very still except for the shaking of my limbs as I transformed into the form of Uncle Scott. I willed the transformation to go faster. If the police officers caught me mid-change, we’d all be in a shitload of trouble.

  When the rippling in my body died down, the police officer stopped in front of the tent opening. He rapped his flashlight against the side of the truck. “This isn’t a campsite,” he shouted. “Come out.”

  I pretended to wake and crawled to the opening of the tent before poking my head out. From the corner of my eye, I could see Devon crouching in the bushes, and in the same instant, I saw a flicker where the police car stood. For the briefest moment its appearance had shimmered and revealed another car underneath. What the hell?

  My eyes flew to the man in front of me, and now that I really focused, I could see that something wasn’t right with his uniform. It was almost like a hologram, or in the movies, when they tried to use animated characters in the place of real actors. It looked like the real character, but you just knew something was wrong. It was too dark to make out much except for the white glow of his eyes in his black face, but I knew his clothes and the car were an illusion. His arm twitched, and my eyes darted downward. He was holding a syringe in his right hand. The only thing that had probably stopped him from plunging it into my neck was my appearance. He seemed unsure if I was who they were looking for.

  I didn’t give him a chance to make up his mind. My arm shot out, and I punched him square in the jaw. He stumbled back, and the illusions flickered out, revealing a man in civilian clothes standing before a black car. Was it the FEA or Abel’s Army?

  He lifted a walkie-talkie. “She’s here.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Devon jumped out of the bushes, and in the same instant a second man popped into view—out of thin air. I saw a flash of red hair. Holly’s abductor! So we were being hunted by Abel’s Army after all. I swung myself off the truck bed and aimed a high kick at the man’s head. Redhead leaned back, lessening the blow, but I busted his lips. Devon was struggling against the man with the syringe. I aimed another punch at my opponent, but he ducked. He barreled into me. The air left my lungs in a whoosh, but I didn’t fall. I drove my elbow into his eye. His cry of pain was joined by the sound of a body slamming against the car. Devon stood over the other man, who was lying on the ground motionless, his head bleeding. He must have barreled hard into the side of the truck.

  I turned my focus back to my opponent and tried to kick his legs out from under him, but he stumbled backward and disappeared with a pop. A second later, he reappeared beside his partner, gripped his arm, and they both vanished into thin air. I was breathing hard, but I didn’t let my guard down. They could return at any time. What about their car? Slowly I changed back to my own body. I pulled the strings tight so the jogging pants wouldn’t slip off and turned to Devon. My heart gave a heavy thud. He was leaning against the truck. The syringe was stuck in his arm. I rushed over to him and pulled it out. “Devon?” I said in a panicky voice. “Are you okay?”

  He gave me a weak smile. “I think there was tranquilizer in the syringe. I feel a little fuzzy, but my body is fighting against it. Meds usually don’t take effect because of my Variation. I think that really scared the shit out of my opponent.”

  “Come on.” I helped him into the passenger seat before I quickly dismantled the tent enough for us to drive away. I was sure they’d return soon. I slipped behind the steering wheel and drove off. Devon struggled to stay awake beside me.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  He nodded. “Just let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again. I really need a good night of sleep.” I forced a smile, but inside I was in full-on panic mode. How had Abel’s Army found us? And so quickly? They’d been able to find us before we had any idea how to find Holly.

  • • •

  Twenty-six hours and another night in the tent later, Devon and I reached Detroit. We hadn’t been attacked again, but I knew it was only a matter of time before either the FEA or Abel’s Army caught up with us.

  Carl lived on the outskirts of town, in the same house he’d shared with my mother and me more than two years ago. Telephone lines bridged the street above us, some of the antennas askew. Pigeons walked the pavement, picking the ground for food. It was early in the afternoon, but this part of town, crowded with old warehouses, was deserted. We pulled onto the street that led to my old neighborhood. I didn’t recognize any of the few people on the street, but I hadn’t exactly been social when I’d lived here.

  “That’s it,” I said, pointing at a small, brown house with peeling paint, a broken banister, and jam-packed garbage cans. A shopping cart stood forgotten on the sidewalk in front of it. Someone had probably stolen it—or what people around here used to call it: borrowed for good.

  Devon pulled up at the sidewalk, but we didn’t get out of the truck immediately. I stared at the shabby hou
se that had once been my home. It felt strange to come back. Last time I’d sent a letter to my mom at this address, it had been returned. My mother hadn’t stayed with a man for longer than two years for as long as I could remember.

  I pushed the door open and got out. A dog barked in one of the neighbor’s houses. It sounded big and angry. Maybe it was the same mutt that had chased me on my way to school once.

  “You okay?” Devon asked as he stopped beside me.

  I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if it was true. I took a deep breath and walked toward the door. The front garden was missing patches of grass, and a few heaps of dog poop littered the rest of it. I knocked at the door and looked around. It smelled of pee and exhaust. This was nothing like Devon’s house. He had a place he could truly call home.

  “Do you think someone already knows we’re here?” Devon asked, shifting nervously on his feet, hands in his pockets.

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Major probably thinks I don’t have the guts to return to this place, considering how much I hated it and Carl. But we still shouldn’t stay here for longer than absolutely necessary. We need to see if he has any information and then keep moving.”

  I rang the bell but didn’t hear it echo inside the house. It was probably broken, which didn’t surprise me, considering the state of the rest of the house. I hammered against the door, then paused to listen for any sign of life inside.

  “Maybe he’s at work.”

  I snorted. If Devon knew Carl like I did, he wouldn’t have said that. “No, he’s there,” I said. “He’s probably just in a drunken stupor. It takes a while for him to get out of that.”

  Devon gave me an odd look, and I turned away, focusing on the peeling white paint of the door. I rammed my fist against it a few more times, feeling the wood vibrate on its hinges.

  “Careful, or you’ll break the thing down,” Devon joked.