Unremembered (Unremembered #1)(52)

‘Alixter, I think that’s enough,’ I hear a vaguely familiar, muffled voice call from somewhere behind him.

He stands up. His movement sharp. Chilling. ‘No,’ he responds callously. ‘She’s not ready.’

I make one last vain attempt to break through the glass but it’s too thick.

I open my mouth to scream and water floods my lungs.

I wake up gasping for breath. Choking.

The familiar surroundings of room 302 blur in and out of focus as sweat drips into my eyes.

This is my second dream.





30


FOUND


The sun is bright in the sky when I awake. It filters through the blinds on the windows, lighting up the entire room. It’s probably midmorning by now. I wonder how long I’ve been sleeping.

I stretch and glance around me. As I take in the small tables and chairs, the colourful walls and my makeshift bed on the floor, the events of last night come racing back to me.

The small silver hard drive.

The memories.

The truth.

That’s when I realize that Zen is gone. And so is the gun.

‘Don’t move!’ I hear someone yell. I immediately recognize the voice as Zen’s. It’s coming from just outside the door. ‘Who are you!?’

I leap to my feet and run, kicking the door out. It flies off the hinges and clatters to the ground on the other side.

Zen jumps slightly at the noise but then regains focus. He’s holding the gun at arm’s length. Pointing it at someone down the hallway.

I follow the direction of his aim and gasp when my eyes land on Cody, cowering against the wall. His eyes are shut tight. His body is shaking.

‘Zen!’ I scream, running to Cody. ‘What are you doing? Put the gun down!’

‘Sera,’ Zen starts to argue.

But I don’t let him finish. I flash him the most menacing look I can muster. ‘Put. It. Down. Now.’

Reluctantly Zen lowers his arms. The gun comes to rest against his thigh. ‘Sera,’ he tries again. ‘You can’t trust anyone.’

I sigh. ‘And you can’t distrust everyone. This is Cody. He’s my thirteen-year-old foster-brother. I assure you, he’s harmless.’

I reach out and touch Cody lightly on the back. He jumps. ‘It’s OK,’ I tell him.

But that doesn’t seem to reassure him at all. Instead I watch his eyes grow very wide.

‘Who the hell are you?’ he demands. ‘Why are you kicking down doors and hanging out with people who carry guns and . . .’ His breathing quickens to the point where he can no longer speak.

I try to touch him again but he jerks away. ‘Cody, relax.’

‘Ask him how he found you,’ Zen yells from down the hall. He’s started to pace.

Cody looks uneasily from me to Zen, then back at me. ‘I went through your search history. On my laptop. I saw that you Googled this address.’

‘You left it on the computer?’ Zen screams. ‘For anyone to find?’

The stress of having to pacify both of these boys is fraying my nerves. I hold up my hand to attempt to quiet Zen. ‘Please.’ Then I turn back to Cody.

‘My parents totally freaked out when they woke up and you were gone,’ Cody explains. ‘They had to call Social Services and tell them you were missing. My parents blamed me. They assumed I had helped you run away again. Even though I swore I knew nothing. But of course they didn’t believe me. I guess I have a track record now.’

I lower my head. ‘I’m sorry about that, Cody. I really am.’

He shrugs. ‘Whatever. I went through your room looking for clues, thinking that if I could find out where you were and bring you back, I could clear my name.’

‘She’s not going back there.’ Zen’s voice is firm and protective.

I shoot him another pleading glance and he bows his head and falls quiet again.

Cody eyes the gun, still grasped firmly in Zen’s hand. Then he looks back to me. ‘What is going on here? Who is that?’

‘That’s Zen,’ I explain. ‘He’s . . . a friend. From my past.’

Cody snorts. ‘Some friend. What is he doing with a semiautomatic weapon?’

I bite my lip as I struggle to find an answer. An answer that will make sense but that won’t put Cody in any danger. I finally decide on, ‘It’s complicated. Zen is just being extra-careful.’

Cody’s eyebrows rise. ‘Does this have anything to do with the people who came to the house looking for you this morning?’

In an instant, Zen is by my side, glaring down at poor Cody. ‘What people?’ he demands.

I push against Zen’s chest, urging him to take a step back and give Cody some room to breathe. He obliges. But his ominous glower never falters. ‘What people?’ he asks again.

I step between them and try again to put my hand on Cody’s shoulder. This time, thankfully, he doesn’t flinch. ‘Who was looking for me?’ I ask, careful to keep my voice much calmer and gentler than Zen’s.

‘I don’t know,’ Cody admits. ‘I was already heading out the door when they arrived. I just heard them say they were scientists and that they wanted to talk to you.’

Zen and I exchange a look. We both know what this means.