The Complication (The Program #6)(97)

I dart my eyes to Dr. Wyatt, stunned by this revelation. She had a child, one who must have died during the epidemic. Is that why she’s been such a beast, tracking and hunting us? Was it all really in search of a cure?

“Don’t, Michael,” she says warningly, betraying her emotion. And, holy shit. I had no idea Michael Realm knew her, but I should have guessed.

“Don’t let Ally’s death mean nothing,” he says, holding her gaze. “Give us one more shot at the cure. Please. I won’t survive otherwise.”

Dr. Wyatt inspects him and crosses her arms once again. “You could reset,” she offers. “Then—”

“Won’t work,” Realm says. “Treatment, remember? I can’t forget.”

Dr. Wyatt and Michael Realm stare at each other for a long moment, and it occurs to me just how entangled in everything Realm is. He’s been on both sides, the doctors’ and the patients’. And whatever their past, his mention of her daughter has softened Dr. Wyatt’s resolve. She looks at Marie.

“What is your cure?” she asks.

Marie smiles warily and slowly shakes her head. “You know I can’t tell you that. But judging by Michael’s condition, it won’t take long to find out if it works. Please, give us a day, Angela. Just one more.”

Dr. Wyatt considers this and looks around at all of us. It’s Realm who she lingers on, and then she nods to Marie. “You have twelve hours,” she says. “And if your cure doesn’t work, I will report you. You will be taken into custody for memory manipulation. Do you understand?”

“I do,” Marie says. “But I don’t imagine The Program will ever let that happen.”

Dr. Wyatt tightens her jaw and nods. “If what you say is true about them, if you don’t find this cure, we will all be over after this.”

She starts for the door, giving us one last chance. But I still hate her. I still hate what she’s doing.

“You’re no better than The Program,” I call out, making her turn back. “You’re using fear tactics. If this fails, I want you to know I’ll do everything I can to stop you from resetting people.”

Dr. Wyatt smiles. “I’d expect nothing less from you, Tatum.”

She turns, and Marie leaves to walk her out. I suddenly think about Nathan and Foster, knowing I need to call them soon. But I don’t want to worry them yet. Hopefully the next call I make will be to tell them it’s all over. The Program and its offshoots are officially done. I can’t even imagine how good that would feel to say.

Marie comes back into the room, and I sit next to Sloane and James on the couch, Wes perched on the arm. Realm is only half-awake, and sweat has gathered on his brow and above his lip, even though he’s shivering. There’s a tug on my heart, and I look away from him.

“I meant it,” Marie says, looking at me. “The cure—I’ve found it.”

“Great,” I say, like I don’t really believe her. “Let’s have it.”

She smiles. “You’re the cure, Tatum. I’ve asserted that from the start, back when Realm found you in The Program. I didn’t understand at first, but now I do. I spoke with Luther, and I know how to find it. There’s a pattern in your memory that I have to procure, but to do that, I need equipment from the Adjustment office. We can’t do the procedure there—we could be raided. As it is, handlers are searching for you.”

I shiver, and Wes reaches out his good hand to rest it on my arm. I think we both know I might not survive the night out there.

“I’ll bring the equipment,” Marie says. “But first I have to know if you’re willing to take part in this. If you’re truly committed. It won’t be easy.”

Realm looks over at me, not urging me in either direction, and I can feel Wes ready to speak on my behalf. But I don’t need anyone to speak for me.

“How long will it take?” I ask.

“The procedure?” she asks. “Not long. But, again, I need the equipment to—”

“I’ll go with you,” Wes says, startling me. He stands up from the arm of sofa.

“No,” I say, immediately. “Why?”

“To make sure it’s not a setup,” he replies. “And to make sure she gets back here with what you need. If she disappears, then we’re all fucked anyway, right? At least I have a phone so I can call and tell you to run if I need to.”

He’s delusional if he thinks I’m okay with this. He’ll be risking his life, risking getting caught by handlers. Wes turns back to Marie.

“You got anything for the pain while we’re at it?” he asks, motioning to his shoulder. The soreness must have settled in, even if he hasn’t mentioned it.

“I do,” she says, nodding to him. “And you’re welcome to join me, Wes. I think it’s actually very smart.”

Wes turns to me, grinning. Proud to be called smart. But I don’t laugh, worried instead.

“Aw, come on,” he says, his playfulness fading. He leans in to hug me one armed. “I’ll be fine, Tate,” he whispers next to my ear, his breath warm. I close my eyes, wishing this was already over. Wishing we could just be together and forget the rest. “Let me do this,” he adds, and pulls back to look at me.