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Authors: Sophie McKenzie

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BOOK: Blood Ties
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I looked down. Daniel was gazing at me, his brown eyes all big and round and serious.

‘Hi.’ I tried to smile. ‘I’m Rachel.’

Daniel carried on staring. I turned and looked at Theo. The same eyes were gazing at me. Except they weren’t the same, I realised. Theo’s eyes were strained – like he’d seen too much. There was no innocence left in his eyes.

‘It’s so weird seeing you and Daniel together,’ I said. ‘You look so alike. And yet different too.’

Theo nodded. ‘This whole thing’s weird.’

‘Where are we going?’ Daniel said.

‘We don’t know,’ I told him.

The car swerved sharply left. I looked out again. We were driving down a wide, six-lane road. Shops on either side. A little shoe shop. A book store. A shop called Pottery Barn with brightly-coloured plates and glasses in the window.

The people strolling by looked groomed and relaxed, enjoying their shopping. They were only a few metres away outside the car.

It felt like they were on a different planet.

‘This is Georgetown,’ Elijah called out. ‘We’re nearly at the house.’

I turned to Theo. ‘Why’s he telling us all this?’ I whispered.

Theo held my gaze. ‘Maybe because it doesn’t matter what we know now. Maybe because he’s not planning on ever letting us go again.’

Oh God
.

A few minutes later Elijah pulled the car up at the back of a large brick house. It looked old compared to most of the houses we’d passed on the drive, though not much different to the houses round where Theo lived in London.

Elijah ordered us out of the car. He patted his pocket. The metal tip of the gun handle was poking out. ‘Be careful,’ he said.

I helped Daniel walk to the front door. He started coughing. Elijah stared at him anxiously.

Inside, the house was simply furnished. Plain walls and polished wood furniture. Elijah led us through a large open-plan living room into an equally spacious kitchen with gleaming steel surfaces and glass French doors giving out onto a trim back lawn.

Theo immediately strode over to the doors. ‘They’re locked,’ Elijah said wearily. ‘And the glass is reinforced. And before you look, there’s no phone in here.’

He withdrew with Daniel, leaving us alone in the kitchen. I heard a key click in the door.

Theo was still staring out onto the garden, his hands pressed against the glass.

I wandered over to the huge double fridge. A pack of bright pink ham and a slab of plastic-wrapped cheese lay on the middle shelf. There was a loaf of bread on the counter, beside a notepad, pen and a thick leather address book.

‘D’you want something to eat?’ I said.

‘Please.’ Theo didn’t turn round.

I made two large sandwiches. I couldn’t find a knife to cut the bread, so I had to tear off what I needed with my fingernails.

‘They look a bit rubbish,’ I said, ‘but . . .’

‘Thanks.’ Theo strode over and picked up one of the sandwich slabs. He turned away again, shoving it in his mouth.

I tried desperately to think of something to say to him.

‘What was it like, in the compound with Elijah?’ I said.

Silence.

I sat down on one of the stools at the counter and took a small bite of my own sandwich. My hands were still shaking slightly and the bread tasted like cardboard in my mouth. I rested my elbows on the counter, suddenly overwhelmed with tiredness. The clock above the oven said it was two p.m. Which meant it was seven p.m. at home. Still really early for me to feel this tired.

Theo stared out of the window again.

‘It was weird,’ he said. ‘Being in the compound, I mean.’ He sighed. ‘I found out things. Not nice things – about who I was, where I come from.’

‘You mean about being a clone?’

Theo nodded. He still hadn’t turned round.

‘For me it made sense of things.’ I picked a piece of bread out of the sandwich and rubbed it between my fingers. ‘For me, knowing I’d been made with Rebecca’s DNA explained why Mum and Dad were always comparing me to her.’

Theo turned round at last. He walked towards me, his eyes burning.

‘But didn’t that make you feel weird? Like somehow you’d lost any idea of who you were any more?’

‘No way.’ I held his gaze. ‘I’m not like Rebecca at all. It’s like Elijah said, being a clone doesn’t make you a xerox copy. Rebecca was smart and sporty and confident and beautiful. And I’m . . . well . . . I’m just not those things. So finding out about being her clone; it’s like finding out we were twins instead of sisters. Weird. But not really that big a deal.’

Theo leaned on the counter, facing me. He was frowning, his eyes deeply troubled. ‘D’you really mean that?’

I nodded.

His face was so close to mine, I could have reached over and kissed him.

He looked as if he wanted to say something else.

Don’t start babbling. Let him say it when he’s ready.

He was still staring at me, examining my face. I could feel it reddening by the second. The tension built.

Don’t start babbling.

‘Would you like another sandwich?’ I babbled. ‘There’s plenty more ham. And cheese. Though more ham, I think.’

Theo looked down. ‘No thanks.’

Then he turned away and went back to the window.

Brilliant, Rachel. Just brilliant.

 
71
Theo

I wanted to tell her about Elijah’s parents. My parents.

They’re in my genes. They’re in my DNA. All that evil is in me.

But I couldn’t.

For one thing, I wasn’t sure she’d understand. I mean, what was all that about her sister being smart and sporty and confident and beautiful? What on earth did Rachel think
she
was?

I couldn’t believe she really didn’t see it.

But it was more than that. I couldn’t tell her just how bad my genetic parents had been. The truth was I was ashamed. Ashamed of being connected with them. Ashamed of all the hate and anger that was inside me.

Several hours passed. Elijah came in to tell us Daniel was fine and sleeping. We each had to see the doctor as well. My examination took ages. I had my blood pressure taken and my lung capacity tested and masses of other stuff.

When I came back downstairs Rachel was in the living room, her face pressed against the kitchen door.

‘What are—?’

‘Sssh.’ She beckoned me over. ‘Elijah’s talking on the phone,’ she whispered. ‘It’s something about tomorrow.’

I stood next to her, my ear flat against the door.

‘It
has
to be tomorrow,’ Elijah insisted. ‘I have no security here. RAGE will be looking for us.’ There was a pause. ‘
Hijo de
. . . for God’s sake, Dr Munsen, it’s the same operation, just a slight change of. . . okay, okay, I know . . .
I know
. . . do you think I would be even considering this if there was an alternative? You’re the one who told me I’m on borrowed . . .’ Another pause. ‘Of course Apollo doesn’t know.’

Elijah’s voice was low and intense. There was a desperation in it I’d never heard before. I glanced at Rachel. She looked as confused as I felt. What was Elijah talking about? ‘I’m on borrowed . . .’ meant ‘borrowed time’, didn’t it? And what operation was he talking about?

‘Yes. No. Very well. Nil by mouth. I know, Munsen. I
know
.’

Footsteps sounded across the room.

Rachel and I darted back from the door. I pulled her onto the sofa and wrapped my arms round her.

I was only trying to stop Elijah from thinking we had overheard him. But once I was holding her, I didn’t want to let go. She felt good. All soft and curvy.

Except . . . except her back was rigid. Her arms too – all tense and awkward by her sides. And it struck me – she was hating me holding her. Hating it.

I twisted round. Elijah had crossed the room and was disappearing through the door out to the hallway. It didn’t look like he’d even noticed us.

I sat back, my face reddening.

‘That was close.’ I pulled a cushion into my lap and pretended to be interested in the intricately embroidered pattern on the cover.

Rachel looked away. ‘What does “nil by mouth” mean?’ She sounded embarrassed. ‘I’m sure I’ve heard someone say it before.’

‘I don’t know.’ A thought struck me. I put the cushion down and went over to the kitchen. ‘Keep a lookout. Okay?’

I found the address book beside the torn loaf of bread on the counter. I thumbed quickly through to M.

Dr Munsen

Attending physician, Cardiothoracic surgery

Transplant Programme Director

Mercy Hospital

Georgetown

Washington D.C.

Transplant programme?

My hands shook. Why was Elijah phoning a doctor involved with a transplant programme? What did cardiothoracic surgeons transplant, anyway? And what did that have to do with me?

‘Theo.’ There was a warning note in Rachel’s voice. I put the card down, feeling numb, and walked back to her.

She was sitting on the sofa, where I’d left her.

‘Elijah’s at the front door,’ she whispered. ‘Saying goodbye to that doctor. And I think I know what nil by mouth means. It’s for when you have an operation and you’re not allowed to eat or drink anything beforehand. My mum’s had to do it loads of times when she’s had her face-lifts and stuff.’

I sat down beside her.

‘What is it?’ she said.

I looked into her eyes. They were a mix of grey and blue and green. The colour of the sea. It felt like years since I’d seen the sea.

‘What does cardiothoracic mean?’ I said.

‘Cardio is something to do with the heart, I think.’ Rachel frowned. ‘Why?’

‘That man Elijah was speaking to – Munsen – he’s a doctor. A heart doctor. He does . . . it says . . . he . . . he runs a transplant programme.’

Rachel’s frown deepened. ‘Is that what they were talking about? Heart transplants? But why . . .?’

‘Elijah has a heart condition . . .’ My breath caught in my throat. I saw it, like a picture coming into focus. In that moment it all made sense. All the jigsaw pieces fitted together – Elijah being on borrowed time; Elijah having a heart condition and the references in his diary to
Med. Exam
. and
Dr M
.; Elijah planning an operation tomorrow; Elijah needing me for just one more day.

‘He wants my heart,’ I said.

Rachel screwed up her face. ‘What d’you mean?’

‘My actual heart.’ My voice cracked. It was impossible to get my head round. That someone could actually imagine what Elijah was planning. And yet I knew it was true. ‘That’s what he wants. My healthy heart in place of his sick one.’

She stared at me. ‘You mean . . .?’

I nodded. ‘A heart transplant.’

Rachel’s eyes widened. ‘But that means you . . . you’ll . . .’

‘I’ll die.’

‘No.’ Rachel sprang to her feet. ‘No. We have to find some way out of here. He can’t get away with this.’

‘Get away with what?’ Elijah said suspiciously.

I whipped round. He was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. I stared at the dark rings under his eyes. The greying face.

‘You can’t take my heart,’ I said, as evenly as I could.

‘It’s murder.’ Rachel stood up.

I pulled her back down. This was my fight.

Elijah sighed.

I suddenly realised I should have kept quiet. That would have given us – what had Rachel called it – the element of surprise?

‘I do not want to kill you, Theodore,’ Elijah said calmly. ‘I want you to be part of what I do here.’

He was lying. I could see it in his eyes. It gave me that weird feeling I’d had before. I suddenly saw what it was – he looked exactly how I felt when
I
lied.

‘You have to let us go,’ I said.

Elijah swore. ‘You are so stubborn, Theodore. I am trying to protect you. Keep you safe.’ He paused. ‘It is incredible. You are so like I was when I was your age. Reckless. Arrogant. Uncaring—’

‘I’m not those things,’ I shouted. I turned away, my head pounding with rage. ‘I’m
not
you.’

The very hate in my heart told me I was lying.

Rachel put her hand on my arm.

‘It is true that you are a genotype, not a phenotype. Yes,’ Elijah said in that vague way he had when he was focused on some scientific discussion. ‘But you are more like me than I had believed possible. And Daniel too.’

Daniel. I wondered what Elijah had in store for him.

I caught Rachel’s eye. I could see she was thinking the same thing.

Whatever we did, however we got away, we had to take Daniel with us.

‘How long will we be here then?’ Rachel said politely.

‘Only until tomorrow.’ Elijah checked his watch. ‘It is nearly six o’clock, which means for you, Rachel, it is nearly eleven p.m. UK time. There are rooms upstairs where you may sleep. Please do not attempt to escape. The windows are all reinforced and I will be locking you in for the night.’

‘I’m not tired,’ Rachel said quickly.

‘Well I am,’ Elijah snapped. He raised the gun in his hand. ‘Upstairs please.’

 
72
Rachel

I sat on my bed. I couldn’t see how we were going to escape. Elijah had locked me in. I knew that Daniel was on one side. Theo on the other. But we had no way of getting to each other.

I lay back on the pillow and closed my eyes. How could Elijah be planning to kill Theo? It wasn’t possible that anyone could . . . could do such a thing. Lewis’s smiling face flashed into my mind. There was this terrible, empty feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I pulled the pillow down and hugged it, trying to feel less alone. When Theo had held me earlier I had wanted to believe it meant something to him. Even though I knew it was just his way of making Elijah think we hadn’t been listening to him.

I wished I’d hugged him back. But it had all happened so fast. Anyway, what did it matter? Lewis was probably dead. Theo wasn’t into me at all. I
was
alone.

More alone than I’d ever been in my life.

I turned over. I couldn’t give up. Somehow we had to get away and make it to the Jefferson Memorial, wherever that was. Lewis had said if everything went wrong he would find me there. I had to try it, at least.

BOOK: Blood Ties
5.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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