Unremembered (Unremembered #1)(53)

He’s right. I can’t go back there.

‘Did they follow you?’ Zen asks.

Cody shakes his head. ‘I don’t think so.’ He looks at me again, pleading with his eyes. ‘Violet, what’s going on? Are you in trouble? Did you do something illegal?’

I sigh. ‘I can’t explain. I’m sorry. I don’t even have the entire story myself. I just know that I’m in danger and I can’t stay here. I have to leave town. If I tell you anything more than that, it will only put you in danger as well. And I can’t do that. I’ve already caused you and your family enough trouble. Please tell your parents that I’m sorry.’ I can feel tears spring to my eyes. I blink them away. ‘And thank you.’

I face Zen, taking control of the situation for once. ‘Come on. Let’s go.’

‘Wait!’ Cody calls. ‘Maybe I can help you somehow.’

I turn back and smile. He looks so scared. Yet so eager. ‘Thank you, Cody. But you can’t help. The best thing you can do for us is go home and tell your parents and whoever else comes to the house that you don’t know where I am and that you haven’t seen me.’

‘But—’ Cody tries to argue.

‘Please,’ I stop him. ‘Please just go home.’

‘If you’re in trouble I want to help.’

I shake my head sadly. ‘Cody, there’s nothing you can—’

‘Actually –’ Zen steps up beside me – ‘there might be something he can help us with.’

Cody’s eyes light up. I think it’s partly out of fear of Zen and partly out of anticipation of what he might say.

I shoot Zen a disapproving stare. ‘What?’

Zen looks hopefully from me to Cody. ‘We could really use a car.’





31


DRIVEN


I watch as Cody carefully steps over several unconscious bodies lying on the floor, bending down to examine each of their faces. The scene in front of me is a frightful one. The family room of this unfamiliar house that Cody has brought us to is covered in plastic bags, food crumbs, aluminum cans, various items of clothing, and, most unnerving of all . . . people.

They look dead.

And I’m instantly reminded of the water.

Waking up in a salty wasteland. Surrounded by an ocean full of dead airline passengers.

And I realize I still don’t know how I ended up among them.

I still don’t know a lot of things.

But for the first time since I woke up on that floating piece of debris, I am optimistic that my questions will finally be answered.

I suck in a sharp breath. ‘Are they dead?’ I ask, afraid of what the response might be.

But all I hear is laughter. Cody’s laughter. ‘Dead?’ he repeats. ‘No. Just passed out.’

‘Deactivated?’ I clarify, remembering the strange device that Rio showed me.

Cody laughs again. This time even Zen joins in. But his laughter is much more scornful in nature.

‘Sure,’ Cody allows. ‘Deactivated. Drinking all night will do that to you.’

I glance around the room again. ‘Drinking?’

‘Yeah. You know, alcohol.’ Cody crouches down and peeks behind a red square pillow that’s covering the face of one of the inert bodies. I steal a glance as well. The young man looks to be the same age as Zen. He has longish brown hair that appears to be acting as some kind of trap because it has several bright orange pieces of food stuck to it. As soon as the pillow is removed, he groans at the sudden blast of daylight and clumsily reaches up to pull his hair over his eyes.

His hand lands on one of the orange objects and, without opening his eyes, he picks it from his hair and pops it in his mouth, chewing languidly.

Cody rolls his eyes. ‘A friend told me his older brother was coming to a party here last night.’ He walks over to a person lying on a nearby couch and leans over to peer at his face, grimacing slightly at what he sees. ‘And from the looks of it, it was a big one.’

He stands up and turns to me, taking in my puzzled expression. ‘Lemme guess. You don’t remember alcohol either?’

I look to Zen for help but he just flashes a quick smile that I can’t interpret. ‘No,’ I admit. ‘I don’t. What is it?’

‘It’s a substance that makes you act like a total dickhead,’ Cody explains.

I open my mouth to ask what that is, but Zen jumps in. ‘It’s slang for someone who is mean or rude.’

‘Or in high school,’ Cody says with a shrug. He stoops to pick up one of the empty aluminum cans that’s been crushed in the middle. ‘See?’ he says, brandishing it towards me. ‘This is beer. A very common form of alcohol. Some people drink it to relax. While others –’ he motions towards the handful of deactivated teenagers – ‘like these jerkwads, drink it to become even bigger jerkwads.’

‘I’m getting the feeling you don’t like these people,’ Zen remarks.

Cody steps over another body and tilts his head to get a look at her face. ‘How’d you guess?’

I glance down and instantly recognize the girl Cody is standing over. It’s Lacey, from the dressing room at the mall. And she’s wearing the very skirt I saw her holding when she disappeared into the stall with her friends.