The Countdown (The Taking #3)(57)

Dr. Clarke looked around—not at us, but at her team. “Clear the room.”

She didn’t say who was supposed to go, and who should stay, but they seemed to know. Only about five of her people remained by the time the evacuation was complete.

Beneath the table, I settled my hands on my knees to stop them from bouncing. This was it. We were finally going to get some answers.

“When they came here, they were dying. That is to say, a large segment of their population was sick, and they were looking for a cure. They thought we might have . . . that we might be the answer they were searching for. Genetics isn’t my specialty.” She nodded to Agent Truman. “Dr. Arlo Bennett here could probably do a better job explaining the science of this, but I’ll give it a shot.” The hologram of Adam vanished and was replaced by a large, rotating double helix. “This is our DNA,” she explained. “Ours is remarkably similar to that of the M’alue considering how different our species and environments are.” She used her fingers to indicate she wanted to ply the strands apart, and the double helix exploded, sending fragments flying into virtual oblivion. All that remained was a single coiled, X-shaped piece. “What it really comes down to is this. They needed one imperceptible, but crucial, chromosome from our genome.”

Jett’s fingertips drummed on the tabletop. “Why not just ask for it? Couldn’t they just get a sample rather than go through all the trouble of abducting us? Experimenting on us?”

Dr. Clarke’s lips pursed. “It was more complicated than that. You might have noticed that you age slower now. Well, there’s a reason for that. Human DNA is subject to something called the Hayflick limit. Basically, it means that there’s a limit to the number of times a human cell can divide before those cells start to ultimately die. Our natural life span.” She shrugged. “And ours is significantly shorter than the M’alue. In order for our chromosome—the one they potentially needed—to be useful to them, they first had to make the life spans match, and the only way to do that was to get their specimens”—she raised her eyebrows as her gaze swept meaningfully over us, letting us know in no uncertain terms that we were the specimens in question—“to live as long as they do before extracting the test samples. Increasing the life spans had other side effects as well—the advanced healing, the slower metabolisms, the need for less sleep.”

“You seem to know a lot about us. How come we’ve never heard of you?” Griffin challenged.

“We’ve tried to be discreet,” Dr. Clarke replied. “But we’re not entirely unknown. The government knows we exist, and as long as we don’t interfere”—she smiled smugly—“they don’t bother us too much—although, sometimes it’s a matter of what they don’t know won’t hurt them. All in all, we do our best to stay off their radar.”

Tilting my head, I asked, “So did it work? Did they get what they needed from us?”

Dr. Clarke frowned. “We don’t know. Not exactly.” She closed her fist and the images vanished, the screen behind her going dark. “There was a breakdown in communication—if you could call it that in the first place—between us and the M’alue. Cooperation ended abruptly, and we no longer know where they are in their experiments.” Her lips flattened into a thin line. “I had a chance to meet privately with Ben after his group arrived yesterday, and today with Agent Truman, and I think I’m up to speed on your reasons for coming. I know about the maps and the message. It’s not good.” She paused. “Hopefully, we can help each other out of this . . . situation.”

Jett glanced around the table, and I realized not everyone had all the pieces. “What exactly is our situation?”

Agent Truman arched one brow at me. “Go ahead.”

“What haven’t you told us?” Griffin prodded.

“I can’t say for sure, but I think they’re coming. And I think we only have nine days until they get here,” I said.

“How can you be sure?” my dad asked.

“I can’t. I mean, that’s the thing. Every morning when I wake up, I get this . . .” I turned to Tyler, thinking maybe he’d know what I was saying. He was the only one who’d witnessed what I’d gone through, while we’d been on the run. Plus, how did I even start to describe this? “Pains. Like intense, stabbing pains.” My voice was wobbly. “At first I thought it was nothing . . .” I shrugged. “Just part of this whole Returned/Replaced thing. Over time it got worse, and then while Natty was holding me hostage, one of them mentioned I was some sort of countdown. I started to realize what I was feeling was them . . . getting closer. Somehow I can sense them.”

“The same way you felt Adam,” Tyler said.

I nodded. “Yeah, like that. It’s like I’m tracking them. I mean, I could do without the stabbing part, but . . . yeah, like that.”

Jett—as our resident numbers guy—was the first to ask, “So where’d the nine days come from?”

“Same place Tyler’s maps came from, I guess.”

“So, thin air,” Simon said snidely to Tyler.

Tyler shrugged. “If that’s what helps you sleep at night.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “I wish.”

“We’ve gotten a bit off track,” Dr. Clarke interrupted. “The real question is, what do they want?” When no one answered, Dr. Clarke continued. “Have you ever heard the term extinction level event?”