She freezes, her eyes fixing on Karden.
The air is sucked from the room. Karden looks at her and then back at me, his eyes glassy and wild like I’m playing another trick on him. They see themselves in each other. The striking resemblance is impossible to miss. It’s probably only a few seconds but it feels like a century that each of us waits for someone else to speak.
Finally, I’m the one who has to break the silence. “It’s the real deal,” I say again.
Raine looks away, overcome. “We need to go,” she whispers.
Karden nods, like he finally believes it. “There will be two of them bringing me dinner. Stand behind the door. Now.”
Raine and I move to positions behind the door just as it swings open. The dispatching of two more guards is nearly uneventful, Raine holding her sword to the throat of one before he can draw his weapon, and me grabbing the other from behind, holding him by the neck. They’re both young guards, frightened, pulling the lowest rank of duty. We take their weapons and lock them in the room, warning them to remain silent or we’ll come back and finish them off—or worse, we’ll disable the lights so the creatures of the tunnel take care of our work for us. I quickly check the remaining rooms, praying that Livvy might be in one of them, but they’re all empty. We’re only a few feet out of the chamber when I notice Karden’s severe limp.
“You’re injured?” I ask.
“A bad ankle. The interrogations have been more intense these last few weeks. I can make it, though.”
He won’t make it. Not as far as we have to go. Not to mention the man is malnourished and hasn’t run anywhere in sixteen years. I grab his arm and pull it around my shoulder, taking on the bulk of his weight. “Who are you?” he asks.
It’s a question that’s haunted me ever since I got my life back. A question that Jenna yelled at me as a challenge—it made me leave California, searching for the answer. The original Locke? A fine replica? Bot or
man? Or as Kara said, Only a memory housed in a look-alike body. Right now the answer is as important as a glass of water in a five-alarm fire.
“A guy in a hurry,” I tell him. “Let’s go.”
Yellow Sea
By the time we make it back to the first panel, Karden is hardly walking at all. He downplayed his injuries. It went far beyond a bad ankle. More likely broken. I suspect some internal injuries too. His breathing is labored. We barely made it through the first stretch of darkness. With only a few days left until the deadline, LeGru and the Secretary apparently stopped caring about the extent of injuries to their golden goose.
On the return trip, the half-humans only stayed at bay for a short time, breaking past the larger creature that held them back. Without Raine we wouldn’t have made it at all. She took out several with her sword before being slashed on her shoulder. We made it to the light panel just in time, sending them scattering.
The dim red light and hum guide us on the last stretch through the tunnel. We emerge into the station like ragged soldiers dragging ourselves the last few steps to home, Karden still trying to hobble along on his one good foot, coughing like fluid is filling his lungs. Raine’s shoulder is drenched with blood though she insists she’s okay.
As soon as we enter the cavern of the station, the distinct salty scent of fresh blood hits us. Even in the suffused red light, we can see the grisly spatter of blood on the walls and floor. The half-humans got something. “Don’t look,” I say. “We’re almost out of here.” But it quickly becomes a moot point. A hand that’s missing three fingers lies in the path in front of us. And just a few feet past that, part of a scalp, the tuft of hair mostly red with blood. I recognize it. He must have run after me, more crazy with greed than with fear at that point, too close to the goal to let it slip away from him.
I hear a muffled gasp from Raine. She recognizes it too but says nothing. For Karden it has been too long to even suspect that these sparse remains are his childhood friend. And as much as I think Carver probably got what he deserved, there’s no satisfaction in the loss. I shouldn’t even compare him to Kara. He chose his own path and Kara didn’t, but still when I glimpse the remains of Carver, I see what was left of Kara, plunging over a cliff.
Up ahead where light floods down the steps at the entrance, I see the silhouette of a man. Karden’s chin lifts. He sees him too. A shuddering breath rattles his chest. “What took you so long?” he calls as we continue to limp forward.
The man doesn’t move. When we get closer his features come into view. The tough grumbly man who is liberal with scowls and spare of words shakes his head, unable to speak. “These things don’t happen overnight, you know,” he finally grumbles back, his voice cracking.
We stop, just a few feet away. Xavier and Karden stare at each other.
“You’ve put on a few pounds,” Karden says.
“And you’ve lost a few.”
Karden pulls away and stumbles forward, the two men embracing, Xavier’s face wrinkling as he holds on to his friend. He finally pulls back, swiping his eye with the heel of his hand. He looks Karden over again like he can’t quite believe he’s really here. “Living the cushy life all these years, huh?” he says.
“Yeah, the accommodations were great.”
Xavier takes a deep breath and tilts his head toward Raine. “You’ve met her?”
Karden turns around to look at his daughter. “Barely.” He takes a shaky step toward her. “Rebecca—”
“My name is Raine now,” she says, correcting him.
Karden shows no sign of offense. There are no illusions that this will be an easy reunion. He’s a stranger to her, and her past experience with a father is not a positive one. “You need to have that shoulder looked at, Raine,” he says and puts his arm on Xavier’s shoulder for support. “You don’t want to end up a scarred buzzard like the two of us.”
She bites her lip and nods. “I will.” I can see she’s relieved at the space he’s giving her, maybe even relieved that he’s nothing like the Secretary. I watch the two of them, eerie mirror images of each other, even down to the way they narrow their eyes as they look at each other. Alike in ways they don’t even know yet, both risk takers, evident from the first time I saw Raine sitting on a rooftop edge dangling her feet over the side, maybe both of them slaves to a gene that craves an adrenaline rush, a balance of power, justice. Maybe both just as subject to their DNA as I am to my BioPerfect.