Unremembered (Unremembered #1)(40)

In fact, I only see the opposite. I see the way Heather looks at Cody. The way Kiyana looked at me.

Can you fake something like that?

I wish I knew.

‘Is it true?’ I challenge Rio. ‘Those things he said about you?’

‘Sera.’ I hear Zen groan behind me. ‘I wouldn’t lie to you. I’m not him.’

‘Is it true?’ I press, ignoring Zen.

Rio’s swollen eyelids drift to a close. ‘It’s true,’ he whispers.

I break eye contact and turn to Zen, who appears genuinely surprised by Rio’s admission.

‘I’ll go with you,’ I tell Zen. ‘But only if you don’t hurt him.’

Zen’s temper flares again. ‘Sera, you don’t understand. This won’t stop. They’ll keep looking for you. This may be the only chance to—’

I raise my hand in protest again and Zen stops talking. Then I reach towards him and turn my palm up. With a sigh, he relinquishes the gun to me. It’s heavier than I thought it would be.

‘OK, let’s go,’ I say. Gripping the weapon carefully in my hand, I start walking towards the crumbling doorway. I don’t look back at the redheaded man, who stands alone in the middle of the empty barn. I don’t know if I have the strength to.





24


ESCAPE


The dry, faded leaves crunch beneath my feet as they pound the dirt floor of the forest. I don’t know where we’re going but I’ve deduced that Zen does not own a car. Which must be why we’re on foot. His pace is significantly slower than what I now know I’m capable of, but his hard, laboured breaths tell me that this is his top speed. They also tell me that I shouldn’t try to speak to him because most likely he will not be able to respond until we’ve slowed down.

The gun is still heavy and awkward in my hand. I try to slide it into one of the many pockets of my pants, but it’s too big.

Finally, after we’ve been running for fifteen minutes, Zen slows to a stop.

He leans forward and puts his hands on his knees, panting heavily. ‘That should do it,’ he says between wheezes.

‘That should do what?’ I ask, my own breath perfectly even.

He takes a moment and a few more strained gasps of air before he answers, rubbing at his damp forehead. I like the way the moisture makes his hair curl. And the way his eyes reflect the moonlight.

‘I had to get you far enough away so they wouldn’t be able to scan you,’ he explains.

I look down at the thin black line on my wrist. I remember seeing the scar-faced man on the sidewalk and feeling my tattoo sizzle. Is that what was happening? Was he scanning me? Like a package of food at the supermarket?

‘How does it work?’ I ask.

‘Similar to a bar code. The line looks solid but up close it’s actually a unique design that their scanners can recognize and track.’

‘And it’s tattooed into my skin?’

Zen shakes his head. ‘Actually, no. We learned that one the hard way. We tried to remove it once but it simply grew back. Exactly the same. Apparently that design is programmed into your DNA. Like the shape of your nose or the colour of your eyes. So even if someone tries to cut it out, when the skin heals, the same mark will always appear.’

I touch the blackened skin, sweeping my fingertip back and forth. I want to ask more but I’m not sure I can handle the answers right now. So I decide to stick to something simple. Easy. ‘Where are we going?’

Zen straightens up and looks at me. The endearing crooked smile I remember from the supermarket and the dressing room is nowhere to be found. Now all I see is a grim expression and hollow eyes. ‘We’re going somewhere safe. At least for now. Until I can figure everything out.’

I watch his eyes move down my face towards my neckline, and he smiles for the first time. It’s a weary smile. ‘You’re wearing it again.’

I feel for the locket. I had tucked it under my shirt earlier but it must have bounced out while I was running. I bite my lip, unsure what to say. Unsure even what to feel.

‘I like seeing it on you.’ He steps towards me, extending his hand. ‘May I?’

I don’t know what he’s asking permission for but it doesn’t really matter. I find myself nodding to his request, whatever it is.

As he reaches for the locket, his fingertips lightly graze my collarbone, sending tiny prickles over my skin. Having him this close to me is doing peculiar things to my lungs. Only a moment ago it was Zen who was having trouble breathing. Now it seems I’m the one who is out of air.

He carefully unlatches the clasp, and the small heart swings open. Unexpectedly his brow creases and his smile sags into a frown.

I peer down. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘It’s empty.’

‘I know,’ I say. ‘It was empty when they found me.’

I watch Zen’s mouth contort in disappointment. ‘Then it must have fallen out at some point.’

I pull on the chain, drawing the locket out of his hands and into mine. ‘What fell out?’ I ask desperately.

With a wistful sigh he turns and starts walking. ‘A pebble.’

Perplexed, I look after him and then hurry to catch up. ‘A pebble? Why a pebble?’

‘It was to remind you of what’s real.’