Mindsiege Page 5

  He looked away from me. Swallowed hard. When his eyes met mine again, he said, “She’s awake.”

  He could have punched me in the stomach and not have sucked the air from me as much as he did with those words—and my subsequent feelings of excitement and dread. I had succeeded, but what did that mean? “And?” I prompted. Could she talk? Could she walk? What does she remember?

  “And Cathy knows that you cured her brain injuries.”

  I pulled back from him.

  “Cathy doesn’t understand why we ran from Wellington. Or why we wouldn’t want to learn everything we could about where we came from and what we were created to do.”

  Neither did Jonas, apparently. It seemed I was the only one who was constantly aware of the live embryos that were murdered in the process of creating the clones who survived. Three hundred fifty-one, to be exact, according to the anonymous email I’d received before Dad was murdered. Why would I want to learn from the monstrous doctors capable of such unethical experimentation? “Who else knows that I healed her?” I whispered. I suddenly felt claustrophobic. The walls were closing in, and I had nowhere to hide. My hands shook at my side. I tucked them in my armpits and backed further away from Jack.

  “Roger Wellington, Seth, and of course Kyle and myself. And now you guys.”

  “So, how is Addison, Jack?” Jonas asked from the chair beside Georgia. “Is she all right?”

  “Well, she lost nearly two years of her life, so she’s confused, and Seth ordered an MRI and some other tests, but… yeah. She seemed… for lack of a better word… normal.” Jack smiled, relieved.

  I wasn’t sure what I felt. As much as I hated that someone close to Jack had suffered, relief was not what I was feeling.

  “How did Cathy react?” I asked Jack. “What’s her plan?” What I really wanted to know was what was his plan. Would he let his mother control him and his special abilities?

  And where did that leave us—Jack and me? We were right back to where we were the moment we bulldozed our way from Wellington: me on the run and Jack taking care of Addison. I was sad to be gone from Wellington, distraught to consider leaving Jack, but nowhere near ready to sacrifice both of our lives for either. There had to be another way.

  “I’m not sure. She claims that her intention was always to help us.”

  Right. “Any word from your father?”

  “Nope. None.”

  Chapter Seven

  “You didn’t tell him that I was inside your head,” Jonas said after Jack left to find Seth. “Why?”

  “How are you so sure I didn’t?” I paced around the room inside The Program. Not giving him time to respond to my first question, I asked, “So, this is where Seth has been teaching you, Georgia, Jack, and Fred about how your DNA was altered?” Convenient for Seth, but not for Kyle or me. Jack had told me he Skyped early in the morning with Seth while I swam. And, as we were informed Friday night, The Program had now been moved to Wellington. Dad had expected me to apply to The Program, but something told me the application process was simply a formality.

  Jonas nodded. His arms were crossed. He leaned a hip against the bed where Georgia lay.

  “How long have you known you were cloned?” I asked.

  “A while.”

  Unsatisfied with his vague answer, I faced him. His dark brown eyes pinned me where I stood. “How long?” I demanded.

  “Since birth.” He tilted his head side to side. “Well, since I could form and keep memories.”

  I gasped, stared at Jonas. “Do you know who you were cloned from?”

  He shrugged. “Never met him.”

  “But you know who he is?” I thought of the newspaper article—the person of interest wanted in connection with Marci’s murder. The person from the College of Agriculture. My heart constricted a little.

  “I know he’s a brilliant doctor somewhere. I don’t believe he knows about me.” Jonas pushed away from the bed where Georgia lay sleeping. “My turn. Jack tells us that you had no idea that you had been cloned from Sandra Whitmeyer.”

  “Did he?” Jack hadn’t known until recently that I’d been cloned. Altered like him, yes, but not cloned.

  “Don’t be obtuse, Sarah.” He stepped closer. The sound of my real first name coming from his lips sent an ice-cold chill down my spine. It was the name I’d said goodbye to when my father hid me away at boarding school several years ago. “Peter Roslin never told you what you were created to do? That Sandra Whitmeyer orchestrated your entire life?” He stood so close I could smell a hint of vanilla from his soap, masking the cigarette smoke on his clothes.

  Backing away, I shook my head. Sometimes the anger at my father for not telling me ate me up inside like a cancer I couldn’t stop. Surely he knew how much danger I would be in if the wrong people found me. But what really kept me up at night and made my blood run cold was the thought that people like Sandra Whitmeyer and Cathy DeWeese had some sort of power to direct my life. That Cathy could put a fence around my school and treat me like a prisoner. That Sandra had some sort of god complex and altered my DNA in such a way as to serve her own master plan.

  Or did any of them really have the ability to do these things—to imprison, to control? Could anyone truly control the life of another without permission? I could still walk out right now and not look back. I could choose my path. However, I’d always be looking over my shoulder for IIA agents; I still didn’t know how to get Jonas out of my head; and I’d miss Jack.

  I’m amazed at your father’s level of irresponsibility. Jonas’s voice snaked in and around my thoughts, bringing me back to a reality I had to face. The reality that Jonas—someone—could get inside my head and push my buttons.

  “Don’t talk about my father,” I said through gritted teeth. “You don’t have the right.”

  “Hmm.” The corners of Jonas’s lips lifted once again. “You don’t think so? That’s interesting. I think I have the right to talk about any of the doctors who did this to us.”

  I studied him. Anger flared across his face, yet his voice remained calm. “You don’t like your abilities?” I asked.

  “They come in handy sometimes.”

  “Like when you want to control someone’s actions? Have someone do something against their will? Maybe even force someone to hurt themselves? Or someone else?”

  “Yeah, like that.”

  “What did you mean earlier? When you said it wasn’t you who tried to hurt Jack this morning.”

  “Ahh.” He rubbed his chin back and forth with his finger. “I’m not under your control now, Lexi. And you can be sure I won’t be letting my guard down on my mind around you again any time soon.”

  The muscles in my neck tensed. I knew Jonas could get inside my head. I had felt his presence, heard his voice, and even smelled the cigarette smoke. Now, I was supposed to believe that it wasn’t him? Just because he said so?

  “She sure was willing to risk a lot to help you,” I said, nodding toward Georgia. Jonas’s eyes narrowed. He studied me, much like I studied him. “And Jack is quick to defend you,” I added. Jack was ready to trust Jonas to keep me safe, and he’d left me here with him now.

  Jonas’s grin grew. “You did tell Jack about me, didn’t you? Why else would he defend me?”

  I turned my gaze to a stain on the tile floor.

  “He didn’t believe you,” Jonas said. He inched forward, leaning his face downward and forcing me to look at him. Your thoughts betray you, Sarah.

  In an unusual moment of confidence, I rotated my shoulders back and stepped right up to him—my five-foot-three-inch frame up next to his five-eleven or so. I looked up. Stared straight into his cold, brown eyes. “How’s your neck, by the way?”

  That was when I saw it. Although slight and brief, I saw a flicker of fear in Jonas’s eyes as he touched his fingers to the two-inch slice the scalpel had left.

  He wrapped his fingers around my arm, just above my elbow, and pulled me even closer. “You cut me.”

&nbs
p; I couldn’t stop the sound of my shallow breathing, but forced a smile onto my lips as my eyes burned into his. “I didn’t cut you. You cut yourself.” I wanted to tell him that if he ever got inside my head again, I would do more than inflict a superficial wound on him. I wanted to tell him that two could play this game he started.

  “You won this round, Lexi. But be careful.” He leaned in and whispered into my ear. His breath was hot on my neck. “You’re playing with fire. People who play with fire often get burned.”

  His reference reminded me how he’d forced Kyle to stick his arm into the fire pit. I pulled away from him and grabbed my backpack off the floor. “That’s okay. Just so you know, if you burn anyone I love again, literally or metaphorically, the cut to your neck will go much deeper.”

  I turned, and had almost made it to the door when he entered my head. Lexi, I’m going to give you a little gift. Since your father failed you in so many ways, I’m going to show you a little piece of who you are meant to be.

  I reached out and wrapped my fingers around the doorknob. My hesitation gave him the invitation he needed to continue.

  What you’re looking for is in the Keiser-Boone Building.

  Slowly, I faced him again. “How could you possibly know what I’m looking for?”

  You’re not looking for the thing your dad discovered just before he was killed? And you’re not searching for the reason I’m inside your head now? You’ll find both inside the College of Agriculture admin building. The Keiser-Boone Building.

  “I thought it wasn’t you inside my head.”

  He laughed. I never said I wasn’t inside your head. I only said that it wasn’t me who tried to hurt Jack.

  ~~~~~

  The Program was located in a wing of a building near the hospital. Seth worked as a neurologist in the trauma unit of that very hospital, which was where I’d first laid eyes on the one and only Sandra Whitmeyer. Well, not exactly one and only—seeing as I was cloned from her DNA.

  Other than my steps echoing down the hallway, the building was eerily quiet. As I approached an exit, a fluorescent light flickered above me. “I never said I wasn’t inside your head…” Jonas’s words repeated in my mind. I pushed through the exit, thankful I had not run into Jack or Seth again. Jonas had stayed with Georgia.

  I thought about checking into a hotel for the night, and planning a way out of this town first thing in the morning. Take the documents and the money Jack gave me just last week when he thought it best that I run. Would Jack miss me?

  He no longer trusted me, or even believed me when I told him who was inside my head. How was it possible that he refused to think the worst of Jonas?

  I rubbed the area above my heart. Had Jack changed his mind about me? The guy who’d wrapped me in his arms that morning? The person who’d risked everything to break me out of Wellington three days ago?

  He’d said nothing to get me to stay when he found me at The Program. Neither had Seth, now that I thought about it. Seth was the one person who’d believed I belonged inside The Program from the first time he met me.

  But now? Jack was willing to give up his life to return to Wellington? For what? To protect Addison?

  Massaging the spot on my chest above my heart, I walked two blocks, wandering aimlessly from building to building within UK’s huge medical complex. When I finally looked up, I was standing in front of the Keiser-Boone Building. I prepared to climb the steps to the front entrance, but hesitated when I saw the police tape to the right of the building. I pulled out the newspaper article I had saved in my backpack and read. Marci’s body had been discovered outside this very building. And the police tape around a mulched landscape area proved it.

  Marci had reported on the latest scientific and medical research coming out of the university, but something had spooked her after Dad was killed. She had been scared out of her mind the last time I saw her.

  So, what brought her here?

  And why was the Keiser-Boone Building my “gift” from Jonas?

  The sign in front of the building read “Agricultural Science Center North—Administrative Offices.” I climbed the steps to the front entrance and stepped inside. The front hallway was typical of many campus office buildings: poorly lit, brown walls, and tiled flooring. The musky smell reminded me of my grandmother’s basement. At each end of the front hallway were double doors, the kind you find in hospitals, not in old brick buildings.

  I walked toward the far doors, but stopped when they opened. Out came a man dressed in blue scrubs and a white lab coat. He passed me without a second glance.

  I slipped through the doors, and found myself at the entrance of a large laboratory, lit with bright, fluorescent lighting. A long, glass partition separated me from a room filled with people doing exactly what one would expect people to be doing inside a scientific lab: peering through microscopes, studying computer screens, and taking notes and having conversations about what they were viewing through microscopes and on computer screens. I couldn’t hear any of the conversations going on through the glass partition. A couple of lab techs looked up from a conversation, stopping mid-sentence to stare at me. They traded glances before speaking again. One pulled a phone from her pocket and appeared to send a message before returning the phone back to her pocket.

  I heard a chatter of voices when I reached a hallway in the center of the building. But the voices were strange. They didn’t come from the lab, but from inside my head. I heard them, but I couldn’t see who they came from.

  I looked around, confused, and unable to make out the exact words I heard. I couldn’t feel Jack or Jonas inside my head. And I heard female voices as well as male voices. I ventured down the middle hallway. When I turned a corner, there was only one direction to go next: down.

  The hallway behind me was empty. No one bothered to stop me. A part of me felt silly. This was a building for the study of farming, I thought.

  I descended to the basement and encountered another set of doors. My jogging shoes squeaked on the tiled floor. I reached out and pulled on the metal handle, but the doors were locked. To their right was some sort of electronic panel, with a small screen and a red light moving back and forth.

  “Dang it, Jonas,” I swore under my breath. “Why did you send me to this building? And what did Marci find here?”

  Keep going, Lexi. You’re almost there.

  I jumped at the sound of Jonas inside my head. Where are you? How is it you can mindspeak to me from so far away?

  How do you know I’m far away?

  I sighed. I was quickly tiring of Jonas. If I ran tomorrow, it would be because of this dark-haired, smoking man. But for today, I had to know whether what Dad and Marci found inside this building was why Jonas was inside my head now, and why Dad and Marci had been killed. I just hoped I didn’t get myself killed in the process. It would do me no good to stop the mind games if I ended up dead. I almost laughed out loud at my own master-of-the-obvious thought. What am I doing, here, Jonas?

  Lexi, it’s time you saw more of what we are. You might not like it, but you cannot hide from it forever. You have a responsibility to learn and use your power.

  Right. You’re crazy. You and what army is going to make me? The words sounded just as clichéd and childish inside my head.

  I won’t need an army, Lexi. When you see what’s at the end of two more hallways, you’ll be begging me to help you understand everything I know about our very existence.

  I’m at a dead end.

  Approach the screen to the right. Look straight into it with your eyes open wide. Try not to blink.

  This was insane. I wiped my hands on my jeans. Why was I even listening to him? I’m not doing this. I can’t. Why would my retinas even be recognized?

  Because you are the clone of Sandra Whitmeyer.

  Just hearing that woman’s name made me wince. You’re telling me that Sandra Whitmeyer was a part of whatever is going on in this building? The woman who’s been in a coma for who knows how long
? And that even my retinas match hers?

  More or less.

  I let out a huge breath, puffing hair out of my face. “Okay. Here goes nothing. Or everything.” I positioned my head close to the security panel. Inside, a tiny mechanism with a faint red light moved across the screen, much like the inside of a photocopy machine.

  Seconds later, the latch on the door clicked loudly. I tried the metal handle again and gained access.

  Jonas directed me down two more hallways. The chatter inside my head got louder. The walls and doors were similar to those of a hospital, but even more similar to the hallways I had just left at The Program.

  I was in the bowels of the basement. There was no sign of an exit anywhere. I had turned so many different directions, I wasn’t even sure where I was anymore.

  Stop. To your left is a door that leads to a courtyard in the middle of the building. It’s two stories down from street level, and there’s no way to exit the courtyard but back through the same entrance. You might be recognized when you walk into this area, so be ready to run back the way you came. If that happens, I’ll try to get you out.

  What do you mean, you’ll try? I asked.

  Just be ready to run.

  Wait, Jonas. What am I going to see?

  And ruin the surprise? I don’t think so.

  Chapter Eight

  The room was filled with tables and chairs, like a cafeteria. Light filtered down from the skylights above—outside light that was quickly fading given the evening hour.

  People buzzed about: children, teens, adults. At the tables, adults sat across from small children. They read to them, helped them with what looked like homework.

  Teens of all ages talked in groups of four or five.

  I scanned the room. What was this? It reminded me of Wellington’s dining hall between meals, when students gathered to finish homework, study for exams, or simply catch up on gossip.