MILA 2.0: Redemption (13 page)

My heart broke when I thought about how things might have been different if she’d stayed there. Maybe she would have been safe. But why would she abandon it so soon, especially when a full scholarship was on the line?

As soon as I saw Chloe drive away, I left the café and headed to the dollar store where Lucas was waiting. As I walked toward the end of the strip mall, I saw an RV creep past. I followed it with my eyes. I was pretty sure I’d seen it once before, on our way over from the motel. I slowed down to scan its license plate. What if Holland had found us?

Data retrieval . . .

Scanning and storing a stream of images was a useful skill, I had to admit. In a moment, the RV’s license plate would appear in my mental log.

Match.

A time stamp on the photo put my initial RV sighting at ten minutes before I met Chloe. As the RV idled at a stoplight, I kept walking toward the store, with the certainty I was under surveillance. Lucas was standing in front of a magazine rack, pretending to read an issue of
Us Weekly
.

“Is that RV still circling the block?” Lucas asked.

Straight to business.

“I just saw it,” I said grimly. “When did you notice it?”

“About fifteen minutes after I got here,” he replied. “It’s passed this way every five minutes or so after that.”

“Damn,” I breathed.

“There’s more,” Lucas said, returning the tabloid to the rack. “I caught a quick look at the driver. Looked a little like Daniel.”

My mechanical heart skipped a beat. “Daniel Lusk?”

He nodded. “I was going to trace the plates but I left my laptop in the car, and I didn’t want to leave here without you.”

I didn’t know how to react. Of course I was relieved it wasn’t Holland, but I was worried, too. Was Daniel watching as friend or as foe? Was he the angry man who’d turned Hunter and me over to Quinn? Or was he Sarah’s father? I’d caught glimpses of a sensitive, caring man, just enough to reassure me he had once existed.

Lucas and I exited the store and headed for the Caprice.
Lucas shoved the key in the ignition, but didn’t turn the engine over.

“What do you want to do?” he asked. We didn’t have long to figure it out.

I formulated a hasty plan. “When we see the RV come around again, pull onto the road in front of him. Cutting him off will get his attention, let him know that we’re onto him. Then let’s lead him back to that warehouse area we visited last night. See what he does.”

Daniel was following us; we had to find out what he wanted. But we’d do it on our own terms.

While we waited, I gave Lucas the abbreviated version of what I’d learned from Chloe. Montford. The Watkins Grant. Sarah’s fear and subsequent return home.

When I said Watkins Grant, he frowned. “Why does that sound familiar?”

Before he could figure it out, I spotted the RV, about six blocks away. From that distance, there was too much interference to scan for weapons or other passengers. But I was able to scan the driver’s face.

Magnify: 20x.

A familiar set of eyes drilled into my mind.

“You were right. It’s Daniel,” I said, my voice suddenly hoarse.

Once the RV was in close range, Lucas peeled out of the parking lot and jerked the car right in front of it. The RV
slammed on its brakes before accelerating again and following us, weaving, back to the warehouse area we’d visited last night.

We passed the nicer section first, where some warehouses were converted into expensive lofts and restaurants. Beyond those, seediness remained. And now that Daniel knew we’d discovered him, we needed a head start. A place to lie in wait.

I pulled up a traffic map, a blue schema folding out in front of my eyes, surveying the area around us. I was able to see all the side streets, storefronts, and stoplights with 100 percent precision.

“In a quarter mile, there will be a gas station on the left. When we get there, gun it, okay?”

Lucas nodded, and then snapped his fingers. “Wait, I’ve got it! Not the Watkins Grant. The Watson Grant. I remember seeing an envelope on Holland’s desk. I wouldn’t have remembered, except it was addressed to Cynthia Gordon. That’s my aunt, but Gordon’s her maiden name. Holland’s wife.”

We didn’t have time for this now.

“It said care of the Watson Grant Committee. The font caught my eye—”

Holy crap. I turned toward him to ask more questions, but just then we reached the gas station. As instructed, he slammed his foot on the accelerator and we blew through a
red light. The RV couldn’t pursue us through the intersection because of its hulking size.

He raced the Caprice down the road until we reached the turn-in on the left. A deserted driveway, leading to an even more deserted industrial area. The car’s tires screeched as he took the corner hard. The rearview mirror showed the RV, now a ways behind but still on our trail.

“That way, toward the back,” I said to Lucas, pointing past the first warehouse.

The asphalt here was so uneven that the car bumped and caught some air. He drove us between two dilapidated buildings. We knew the road continued around the back, flanked by Dumpsters overflowing with trash.

“Slow down just a little,” I said. Then I opened the door and launched myself onto the asphalt, tucking my arms tight.

Lucas continued around the corner. Once he cleared the other side, he’d stop and pull the door closed before driving back around and partially concealing the car two buildings over. Just enough to hide the fact that I wasn’t in the car.

Daniel would go to Lucas first, giving me time to scan and assess and see what we were up against. And if things went south, well—slashed tires in this neighborhood would give us a pretty big head start.

I ducked into the slim space between the Dumpster and
the wall, listening for the RV. On the far end of the building, I heard it rumble into the ancient parking lot. For a moment, I froze, because it sounded like the RV was coming my way. Then it broke for the far end of the lot. Toward Lucas.

Staying close to the wall, I sprinted in the same direction. When I reached the gap between the first building and the second, I peered down the road. Empty. I darted across the opening, then raced along the back wall, my shoes crunching old gravel and debris. Trash fluttered along the bank of mud to my left; to my right, the warehouse looked like it was about to crumble down. A mishmash of offensive smells assaulted me—urine and rotting food.

Before I reached the end of the building, my sensors kicked in.

Human threats detected: 5.

Weapons detected: Tasers, 4 in a 50-ft. radius.

Five people in the RV?

“Lucas,” I breathed.

Quinn’s battered face appeared in my head. I saw her neck, dripping red blood. I banished the images at once. I might not trust Daniel, but he was no Holland. At least, that’s what Sarah’s memories kept trying to tell me.

Knowing how many people he’d brought changed my plan, though. I had to get to Lucas, quick. This was looking like some kind of ambush, and if one of us was going to get
caught, I wanted it to be me. I could at least try and fight them off on my own.

I hadn’t even reached the end of the building when I heard something I shouldn’t have. The sound of the RV rumbling back in my direction. How had they known where to look?

The answer dawned on me quickly. The GPS chip that Quinn had supposedly removed. They were still tracking it somehow.

With no hope for escape or evasion, I grabbed two decently large rocks from the mud and took a position near another group of Dumpsters. I’d have to do my best with these makeshift weapons.

The RV swung wide around the corner, blocking the path with its passenger side, and parked. The door opened, then closed. I widened my stance, gripped my rocks, and waited. I also tried scanning for Lucas, but my systems weren’t operating normally. When I called upon my sensors, there was this long pause, like I was being put on hold. I hoped that Lucas had found a way to make himself scarce.

A can clattered across the parking lot, just as Daniel rounded the front of the RV. A strange wave of calm descended upon me, propelled my legs forward with a fluid sort of grace. Whatever it took to keep Lucas safe.

Behind the tinted window on the RV, to the left of the side door, another shadow moved. I only caught a glimpse,
a blur of a face. Thankfully, a burst of energy cut its way through the delay in my sensor readings, allowing me to get the basics.

Human threat detected.

The door handle turned. I was right out in the open now, but I stood my ground.

Initiate attack mode?

The query lingered behind my eyes, red and blinking.

The door opened.

Attack?

I readied myself to accept, when the first assailant appeared. A beefy young man with pale skin and a walnut of a nose. I knew him even without full control of my android abilities.

Samuel Braggs. One of Quinn’s promising cyber-protégés.

Trailing him was a tall girl with blond hair and an angular face. Abby, one of the Vita Obscura members I’d bonded with in Chicago. Back before Quinn had turned me into a brainwashed assassin.

And following her was a boy with floppy hair and pale blue eyes. A boy I had never stopped thinking about since the moment we met.

T
here he was. In the flesh. The boy I’d left behind.

The boy whose life I’d ruined.

Hunter.

My legs went wobbly with an electric zing of relief, and then wobblier still with a slow-sludge pour of remorse. Too many feelings, mixing into a dizzying swirl of confusion. Rooting me to the ground below.

But his face, god, his face. The sight alone was worth a thousand prayers.

No matter what, he was safe.

We stood there while the seconds ticked by, locked in some kind of stalemate. No one moving forward. No one moving back. They waited in a tight cluster, as if to draw strength in numbers. My gaze kept returning to one face in
particular. Searching for a speck of warmth in the blue eyes.

At first, Hunter looked startled. They all did. It took a second, but then I realized they were reacting to my adjusted facial features. After a minute or so, his expression swept clean, leaving behind a blank stare that settled a few inches to the left of my shoulder.

The boy I loved couldn’t bear to look directly at me.

I’d expected this. I’d deserved this. That didn’t make it any easier to bear.

And then, the unthinkable happened. Hunter took a step toward me. And another.

Daniel, Samuel, and Abby maintained their positions, but Hunter kept walking, slowly but with purpose. My android sensors remained functional, but my visual focus, it narrowed to a tunnel, turning everything around us into a foggy haze and leaving only Hunter, me, and the dwindling space between us. The experience was surreal, almost like how I felt when my mind relived one of Sarah’s memories. Like this moment had already happened to someone else and I was just watching it play back like a movie.

15 ft.

10 ft.

5 ft.

Hunter stopped. Hands in pockets, wary, as if searching for something. Behind him, I noticed the others doing the same.

As we finally locked eyes, I was transported back to Clearwater. Hunter in the hallway, flashing me his crooked grin and brushing his hair off his face. Reading his manga on my bench, outside in the school’s courtyard. His glow of excitement as we’d snuck an illicit ride on a Ferris wheel in a deserted amusement park. His lips, closing in on mine . . .

Longing was a sharp twist inside me, a sear of pleasure-pain like the lung-bursting stab after a hard sprint. Did he feel it, too? I lifted my hands, reaching for his. If I could just touch him, and reignite that connection, everything else might fall away.

Reality crashed over me, though, ice water on bare flesh. Hunter would never accept me after what I’d done to his family. There was no coming back from that. Unless we believed in miracles.

“Mila?”

His voice was faint. Like he didn’t want to say my name out loud.

“Hi, Hunter.”

I cringed at the way I sounded. Casual, like we’d just run into each other at the mall. He couldn’t see the
ping-ping-ping
of my nerves as I scrutinized every inch of him.

Scanning . . .

No gait abnormalities detected.

Limb and body positioning consistent with normal function.

Jeans: Estimate one size too large.

Projected weight loss: 7 lbs.

Hair: ¾ in. regrowth from most recent trim.

I exhaled. He was okay. Tired and a little thinner, but healthy.

Safe.

“Are you all right?” he said. “When you disappeared with Quinn, we were really worried something bad had happened to you.”

Each word came out of his mouth in this very even monotone, like he’d been rehearsing. Suddenly I was aware of our surroundings again. We were in an alley. A bunch of Taser-armed people had purposefully tracked me down.

Yes, I was in love with Hunter. Yes, I was desperate to make him see that I was sorry for what I’d done and that I was worth holding on to. But could I ever trust him like I trusted Lucas?

I didn’t know where my partner was, but I knew he had my back.

“I’m fine. I was worried about you too,” I finally answered. “What are you doing here?”

He shot a look over his shoulder. Daniel kept his hand in his pocket. So did Samuel. Hunter turned back, shifted his weight from foot to foot, and took a stiff step toward me. Then another.

Human threat detected.

My sensors screamed red alert, but I overrode that command, determined to let this play out.

When Hunter opened his arms, all warnings faded away. I would trust him with my life. With everything.

My hands curled around his waist, grabbing his shirt while I pressed my face against his chest, his familiar scent invoking a pungent surge of relief and sorrow.

“I’m so sorry,” I choked out against the cotton of his shirt. My eyes swam. I willed the arms around me to tighten, to pull me closer. Instead they held me loosely while I listened to the thud of his heart.

I wanted to say a million things to him. To shout my joy that he was here, whole and unhurt. To ask him how and why he’d hooked up with Daniel and the others. To tell him how I’d missed him.

I pushed myself away, just a little, so that I could meet his eyes. Tears trailed down my cheeks, wet and warm.

His gaze narrowed on those, his finger whisper-sweeping one damp cheek. I had a flash of Lucas doing the same thing, back at Holland’s lab, in wonder that an android would cry.

He froze. With hands that weren’t harsh but weren’t gentle either, Hunter gripped my shoulders and pushed me away, like he’d never meant to hug me in the first place, much less touch my tears.

He turned to the group, who waited in silence. “I think she’s safe. At least for now.”

Without another look at me, he slinked back to join them.

“Can I ditch this now?” Samuel asked, waving his Taser at Daniel.

Daniel grunted, gave a jerk of his head. “Keep it. We’ve only observed her behavior for a short time. We need to make sure before we let our guard down.”

Hunter’s greeting. His embrace.

He’d been acting, in an attempt to see if I was still a threat.

His posture now, with the rigid set of his shoulders, his grim mouth, the evasive eyes—that said it all. I could apologize a thousand times but he would never hear it. He didn’t care about me. He only cared about the next people I might harm. They must have come here to determine that—for now—I was not a threat. Did they know about the bomb? I wondered. Even without a bomb, they knew I could be deadly. They’d seen it.

“Where’s Lucas?” I said.

“He’s inside.” Daniel jerked his head at Samuel, who walked to the RV door.

Lucas—the other human I’d detected. Now their captive?

Storm clouds gathered behind my eyes, filling my skull with rising pressure.

“Send him out,” I demanded, already moving toward Samuel.

Daniel lifted his hands in an attempt to calm me. “He
can’t come out right now—” he started, but the squeal of the opening door cut him off.

It revealed Lucas inside. Unmoving. Bound and duct- taped within an inch of his life.

The storm clouds exploded, and I snapped.

Target: Located.

The next instant, I flew toward the door, my fingers locking around Samuel’s arm. With a burst of force, I threw him over my shoulder and he hit the ground in a crash that echoed through deserted parking lot. I wanted to check on Lucas, but my anger burned bright, urging me to turn and bring down Daniel next.

I whirled, setting my sights on Lucas’s captor before launching myself at him.

The electric pulse of a Taser crackled through my sensors, grounding me before I could ever reach my destination. It didn’t come from Daniel, though, because as I fell, I saw his hand still fumbling for the Taser in his pocket. No, this shot had originated elsewhere.

I hit the asphalt hard. Paralyzed and useless, my head lolled to the side.

Warning: Systems—

Syste—

Sy—

My last image was a blurred kaleidoscope of Hunter’s athletic shoes; my last sound, his voice saying, “Got her!”

Then I floated into nothing as my system entered the dead space of shutdown.

System rebooting.

Once the reboot initiated, my return to awareness was quick. No gradual easing into the waters; more like stripping down and diving headfirst.

I sat on the hard dirt, my feet bound and my hands secured behind me to a huge tree. The stone circle of a fire pit sat in the middle of a clearing to my left, with a picnic table a few feet back.

Peeking through the dense cover of trees and foliage, I could just make out the RV in the distance.

We were at a campground.

I returned to look at the objects I’d skipped in my initial assessment. Five camp chairs in greens and blues, arranged around the fire pit. And sitting in one, just to my right, was Hunter.

“Got her.”

His last words surfaced in my brain. “You Tased me,” I said.

“You were attacking us,” came his flat reply. Blue eyes met mine in a stalemate.

I looked around, but didn’t see anyone else. “Where’s Lucas?”

“He’s safe. He was fine when you freaked, too. Just tied up—in case.”

“In case what?”

“In case you attacked us like you did back at Quinn’s,” he said, dragging the pointed end of a stick through the dirt by his shoes. When he glanced up his face was a mask, his body language closed-off stiff. His chair was a good distance from the tree where I was bound, and he watched me with eagle eyes.

Oh.

Oh.

Based on the last Mila they’d seen, they had good reason to be concerned. Scared, even.

Scared of me, because of the terrible things I’d done.

Any remaining hint of anger faded.

They had every right to fear me. They knew what I was capable of.

My throat knotted and my gaze dropped to the floor. How could I face Hunter? Any of them? In that moment, I wanted to break free of my bonds, sprint out of the campsite, and keep running. Away from Hunter’s fear, from my regret, from the reminders of the terrible things I’d done.

But the only true escape lay in putting an end to whatever Holland was doing.

“Why did you guys hunt me down?” I said, watching his reaction with wary eyes.

“Samuel,” he said, his tone as wary as mine. We were
two wildcats, circling. Each wondering if the other would strike first.

“When Quinn took off with you in the middle of the night and didn’t return, he let everyone know what went down. Some of them fled, but a few of us stayed on. Especially when he told us his suspicions about the bomb.”

My hands flew up to cover my abdomen, but came up short against the thick metal bands. I stared at Hunter in horror, feeling as exposed as if I were stark naked. He knew about the bomb.

They all did.

“So it’s true,” he said, his eyes going wide.

The three words made me feel guilty. Like I’d intentionally stuffed an explosive device in my body that could blow me to hell and back whenever a sick excuse for a man desired.

“I didn’t know until Lucas found me in the desert. None of us did.”

He rose, knocking over the chair in his haste to escape.

“It’s not like that; there’s a window. Two hours from the time it’s activated until detonation. And it hasn’t been started yet. You’re perfectly safe.”

I studied the dirt beside me, focusing on a stray ant doing its frantic zigzag back to the others. God. This was all wrong. This conversation, this reunion, this life. Sitting here, discussing my body bomb with the boy I’d fallen for.
Was there a right thing to say in this situation?

“So you tracked me down to help me?” I finally said. I wasn’t sure if I believed that.

He shrugged. “Daniel wanted to track you down to make sure you knew about the bomb, and didn’t hurt anyone by accident.”

“And you?” I prodded, heart in my throat.

His shoulders tensed, but his voice remained soft and paper thin. “After what you did to Peyton, I wanted to make sure that you didn’t hurt anyone on purpose.”

A knockout punch of sincerity.

How had we come from Clearwater to this, in so little time? From fairs and Ferris wheels to bombs and death? I leaned forward, restraints digging into my skin. I needed him to understand. “I wouldn’t, won’t. Not again. That was a weak moment, Quinn, her program. She—”

“I don’t care. You’re dangerous. I don’t know why Daniel’s being so wishy-washy about this. I think they should lock you away somewhere. It’s the only way to keep people safe.”

For one terrifying moment, the world stopped spinning. “What? No! You can’t do that!” I cried. “We need to stop General Holland! That’s why we’re here, you know. Lucas and I are trying to figure out his master plan, so this will never happen again. It’s just . . . taking a while. We have evidence about the fire. . . .”

Suddenly I could see how little we’d accomplished so far. “You have to listen,” I told Hunter, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. “You have to be patient!”

He leaned over and started digging in the dirt again, his back to me. His message was loud and clear.

“Can I talk to Daniel?” Suddenly I was afraid they were going to ditch me here. Tied to a tree and helpless. And where was Lucas? I needed to talk to him, too.

Hunter shook his head. “Not right now. Maybe later.”

Frustration was a roar in my head, but as I studied the back of Hunter’s head, sorrow slowly chased it away.

He’d lost so much. All because of me.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

The stick snapped beneath his hand. He rose from the chair.

“I know there aren’t enough sorries in the world to make it right, but I have to try,” I said. “If I could take it back, I would. The lies. All of it. I never meant to hurt you, or your family. Your stepdad. I was selfish, letting you follow me. I realize that. I just wanted . . . I wanted . . .”

My throat constricted, making speech difficult. Slowly he turned, so that his gaze briefly met with mine.

He pivoted and strode toward the RV without uttering a single word.

I finished on an unheard whisper. “I just wanted something real.”

My head listed to the side. I watched the sun disappear over the horizon in a red-orange blaze, and stars pop out in a brilliant display of lights. Crickets chirped, and frogs answered. I shut my eyes and wished for the impossible.