The Countdown (The Taking #3)(88)

We hadn’t quite figured out what this was, our new version of reality. The year hadn’t changed—we hadn’t gone back in time or anything. But we were definitely not the same as we’d been a week ago. Before the ISA explosion.

So here’s what we knew for sure . . .

Fact: I’d been taken and returned. Even my mom and Grant remembered me coming back after a five-year absence, even if they didn’t know I’d been abducted. The whole Austin-Cat storyline still existed in whatever dimension we were in.

Fact: I’d infected Tyler when I’d cut myself in front of him. This information however is on a need-to-know basis. Meaning, yes, all of us who were Returned know. Agent Truman knows. My mom, Grant, and Tyler’s parents . . . not so much. All they remember is that Tyler and I got into some trouble and took off for a few weeks.

Fact: Tyler and I both landed ourselves under strict lockdown restriction after we’d come back. This makes sense considering our parents think we’re moderate delinquents.

Now here’s where things got sticky . . .

My dad.

I could end right there and that would be enough. I missed my dad more than I would ever find words for.

As far as my mom and Grant—and pretty much the whole world—are concerned, my dad died in some sort of horrible accident. I try my best not to get all prickly whenever my mom talks about him, about how much he’d changed after I disappeared. How he was never the same.

But it’s tough. She didn’t know him the way I did. She has no idea he died a hero.

Here’s the other really weird thing: none of us—not me or Tyler or Simon or any of the Returned are any different from anyone else anymore. As in, as far as we can tell, we’re back to being ordinary humans.

I know!

It started with my eyes. My normal not-glow-in-the-dark eyes, which also happen to not see in the dark. That would’ve been strange enough, except for the part where I could no longer hold my breath super long or control things with my mind.

I could still throw super hard, but that’s because I’m a pitcher—I’ve always had a killer fastball.

The healing thing was up in the air. I was too afraid to test it. After what happened with Tyler, I couldn’t take the chance.

But Simon and some of the others had—cut themselves, I mean. And, sure, they healed. But faster? Maybe. Simon thought so. But definitely not alien-DNA-fast.

We weren’t sure what that meant. Was this all part of the M’alue’s promise of no more Returned? Had it extended to us as well?

Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe all that mattered is we were here . . . together . . .

Safe.

“Hey, slugger. Your boyfriend’s here,” Grant teased, tossing me a towel so I could dry my hands.

I caught it, wiped my hands, and kicked the dishwasher door closed. “That’s it,” I told him. “Final night of KP.”

KP—kitchen patrol. Grant’s cute name for kitchen duty aside, that last load of dishes signified the official end of my grounding.

Grant held out my phone and the house keys as a reward. “Home by midnight,” he instructed, and I wondered when I’d stopped caring that he took such a fatherly tone with me.

I saluted him. “Yes, sir.” I snagged the phone, and patted Nancy on the head before rushing out the back door.

I’d wanted a dog for as long as I could remember, but my mom had always had a strict no-dog policy. She almost gave in once, if my dad promised to find a breed that was hypo-allergenic and didn’t shed.

Nancy was neither of those things. Plus, she stunk. But according to Grant, after my dad’s funeral, Nancy had refused to leave my mom’s side. Mom swore the dog was a major annoyance, but whenever she thought no one was around, I caught her slipping Nancy treats and cooing at her in baby talk.

I practically ran into Tyler as he was coming up the drive. “Come on, let’s bail before they change their minds.” I grinned, and reached for his hand.

I thought he’d have some big date night planned for our first free outing—dinner and a movie or something like that. Instead Tyler pulled his car into a Park ’n’ Ride, steering to a spot way near the back, away from the bus garage, where the lot was mostly empty.

I gave him a long silent look before asking. “All right, I give. What are we doing in this super romantic parking lot?”

He grinned, nodding toward the glove box. “I got you something.”

Eyeing him skeptically, I popped it open and started laughing. “You’re not serious.”

“If you could read my mind, you’d know I totally am.”

I hit him with the DMV pamphlet.

“Look,” he said, defending his actions as he waved his keys at me. “I just think if we’re gonna do this whole human thing, it’s time you get your own driver’s license.”

I leaned closer and snatched the keys from his grasp. “Oh, you do, do you?”

Before I could back away, his finger caught me just underneath the chin. That small action, his simple touch, made my breath catch.

“I do,” he said. His voice was low and reached into me, reminding me of a time, not so long ago, when he didn’t even have to speak for me to hear him. “And I definitely think we should do this whole human thing. You and me, together.”