I couldn’t argue with him. Not when everything he said was true. There was no hope for me to give River a happy life, one she deserves. This way was the only way. So I played dead, and Kyle got me out.
Only my parents and he know I’m still alive, and it’s going to stay that way. I’d do anything for River. Anything.
I look out across the calm turquoise waters of Bacalar, Mexico. It’s a secluded lake by the ocean near Belize. It’s quiet. Not a lot of tourists. Most people who come here have a house, or they’re locals coming to fish. Kyle rented a place through a friend.
My phone rings, and I look at the screen. It’s him. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Things are looking good. Hearts are still normal.”
“That’s great news.” Kyle’s referring to the twenty-nine people who are still alive. Ten didn’t make it—some of the LARPers, a few of the guys on the football team, and some of River’s sisters. The doctors figured out if they lowered the dose too fast, it caused death. But if they took it slow, the body adjusted without shock.
As for Morris and Keni, they were set free. The drug wasn’t actually illegal until a month ago. And since no one could prove Keni poisoned anyone, the charges were dropped. So without a leg to stand on, Keni and Morris got out and disappeared. Probably with whatever money they had socked away. I’d go and find them, but what’s the point? I’m not going to kill them. On purpose. They’re not going to prison.
God, I hope Morris doesn’t go into the super-soldier business. Luckily, he has no clue how I got like this. If I have anything to do with it, no one ever will.
Nothing’s changed with regard to my body and abilities, and I’ve been off the stuff for six months. I felt guilty knowing I was robbing someone else of a drug they needed to stay alive. I’m the one who figured out you could reduce the dose in minor increments and survive. It was all about preventing the body from going into shock. Like heroin. I’ve learned so much about chemistry and this crap in my body that I could probably start making the stuff myself.
Of course, none of it explains the rest. What happened to me in that pond? I guess I’ll never know. Kyle says the contents were hauled away and scrapped somewhere.
Truthfully, though, I don’t want to figure it out. I worry what would happen if I did. It would mean someone else might figure it out too. Kyle was right. There are a lot of people in the world who’d like to create copies of me. Make an entire army of Huffs.
One’s enough.
The good news is the bouts of rage have been fewer and farther between. I meditate every morning. I practice my breathing. I eat an organic, vegan diet—which I hate—and I try not to agitate my mind by using my abilities. The normal, calm, regular routines of a normal man seem to keep me in check.
“So you think you’re ready to do some more tests?” Kyle asks. “Check the heart again? See what else we can figure out?”
“I’m going to pass,” I say. “Too risky showing my face around.”
“I get it. As long as you’re feeling okay.”
“I am.” Not. I miss River. I miss her every damned day. The only thing that gives me peace is knowing she’s putting her life back together. I visit her at night sometimes while she’s sleeping. Less now than before, since I figured out zipping around makes me feel less grounded. But some days I just need to hear her breathing. I need to smell her hair and look at her beautiful face. I need to whisper in her ear that I’ll always be here, watching over her.
“So any other updates?” I ask.
“I’m sure you read about the sentencing last week. Mom and Dad couldn’t stop crying.”
“Fifteen years doesn’t feel like enough prison time, but it’s awesome. Really awesome.” Manda got the biggest sentence. Tasha got five years in exchange for her testimony. The other two girls got ten years. The pressure from the public became too much after I spoke with the press, and Tasha caved. All that matters is Manda is going to die in prison. And she will, according to what Kyle’s heard. Manda’s sick. She’ll live out her final days in a horrible place, surrounded by horrible people. That’s punishment enough for her and the family who covered up Joy’s murder.
“How are Mom and Dad liking their new home?” I ask.
“They love it. They swim every day; they go for walks; they’ve met a few people who aren’t complete jerks when they find out the infamous, dearly departed Mr. Ultra Mega Love is their son.”