Killswitch (21 page)

“What if one of the men from the truck was chipped?” Mel eyes were wide with realization as she stared at the drone. “Either Kirel or the one of the other two that didn't die in the crash. The exoself could have moved the tracker to him. They thought they had you when they got
them
. I mean, you could've altered your appearance. Or the guy could have been bloodied and unconscious and they only thought it was you. Until they delivered the wrong guy.”

Chase could see the possibility. But it was all so bizarre. Not likely one of the men involved in his kidnapping had been chipped. They were dissenters. But there was a chance. “It makes sense, I guess,” he said. “In a way.”

“
No
way
this makes sense,” Switchblade yelled. “Only thing we know for sure is there are Feds on our trail. We have got to ditch the car and destroy that computer.” He pulled a gun from the backside of his waistband.

“Where did you get that?” Mel asked.

“Pilot lady gave it to me before she kicked me off her plane.”

Chase pulled the laptop closer. “No, Switchblade. I have to get the exoself back. And right now it's inside here.” He rapped his hand against the bottom of the computer. “You are not putting bullets in it.”

“It's the only way, Charlie.” He stretched out his arm and pointed the gun. “Chase,” he said, “I gotta do this. Or they'll track us all the way to Blue Sky Field. That little computer is fighting hard to throw them off, but they're gonna find us.”

“Chase, baby, listen to him. He's right.” Mel put her arm around him and took hold of her laptop.

“You don't understand, Mel. It's a part of me.”

“No, it's not. It's a bunch of code. It's not alive, Chase. You can't kill it. If it managed to find a hiding place then we can only hope it'll do it again.”

“If it's not alive, then how did it hide itself?”

“I don't know.” She leaned close. “Please. Give it to me.”

“Enough of this coddling,” Switchblade said. He shoved Chase against a slab of black rock. Then he jerked the laptop from Chase's grip and threw it to the ground.

Mel grabbed onto Chase and held him as Switchblade raised the pistol and put three bullets in the computer. It bounced off the ground with each assault until a gaping hole showed the cold ground under it. Like the hole blasted through Chase when the WR took his life. When they made him a transhuman.

Now there was truly nothing left of him. Except for the artificial organs that would keep him alive much longer than he cared to live.

He pulled free from Mel and shuffled back into the cave.

“Let him go,” he heard her say. “Give him a minute. And power down your VPad.”

Did she think the exoself would find refuge in a VPad?
That
was ridiculous. Chase dropped to the hard ground and rested his head on knees. They could just leave him here. He didn't want to go on.

But soon his minute alone was over. They both lowered themselves to the ground, Switchblade to his left, Mel to his right.

“Man, I'm sorry,” Switchblade said. “I didn't see no other way. Amos sort of appointed me your bodyguard, and I'm gonna do what I have to do to protect you. Like Sparky would.”

“Don't talk to me,” Chase said. “Either one of you.”

Mel put her hand on his arm but he pushed her away.

“Chase, we've got to get out of here,” she said. “That car out there, hopefully, is the only link they have to you right now. They'll be looking for it and we have to get moving.”

“This is my own personal branch of the underground now. Let them find me. But you two go on. It'll be dark soon. Stay in the woods until you get close to town. Good luck.”

What was left of daylight lit the cave well enough for Chase to see the tears streaming down Mel's cheeks. Her shoulders shook. A sob rose from her throat. Then she wiped her face and took a breath.

“Fine,” she said. “Stay here.” She stood and stepped a few feet away, then faced him. “You are the most self-centered man I've ever known. And you're a coward. I don't know why they picked you for their idiotic transhuman experiment. You can't program bravery into a man. Or dedication. The exoself didn't do anything to make you understand that you are not the center of the universe. You're still the same old Chase Sterling. The most influential man in the Western Republic. Well, I don't need that kind of influence in my life.”

She rushed out of the cave.

The two men sat in silence. “Girl has got a temper,” Switchblade said a last. “Kind of makes me glad I didn't end up with her.”

“You heard what she said. She's through with me, so give it a shot. And I'm through with
you
. Get out of here.”

He cocked the gun. “Don't think so, Charlie. Gotta get you back home tonight. Remember?”

“You're not going to shoot me. Anyway, you already killed me.”

“Man, I didn't kill nobody. You heard what Melody said—the exoself is probably already hiding in some other computer. We got a whole command center of machines at Blue Sky Field. Sparky could be there waiting for you.”

“And what if that's true? The Feds will show up the next time there's a glitch in the system. Go shut the whole blasted place down. This is over.”

“No, it ain't over. It's just messed up. And you're the only one who can fix it. You gotta come back and figure this thing out. You
know
the exoself. You're the only one it'll listen to.”

“It's too hard. I'm just a gameshow host and I don't like this game. I'm afraid of what will happen if I fail.” He smirked. “I've already failed.”

“Get. Over. Yourself. And don't be afraid,” Switchblade told him. “Don't be afraid.”

34

Switchblade's words were a kick in the gut. Chase
was
afraid. Maybe more than he'd ever been before in his life.

“I can't go on like this,” he told the man who'd just destroyed his chance of getting back the only thing useful about being a transhuman. “I'm done.” His arms and legs were weights he couldn't lift. His mind replayed the sight of the laptop coming apart as the bullets hit. And Mel's expression as she left him there. What happened to all her talk of forgiveness? What was it she said? Seventy times seven. The Bible got a person just so far, he guessed. She'd had enough of him.

Switchblade jumped up and grabbed Chase by the arm. “I will carry you if I have to. I'll knock you over the head and drag you out of here.” He pulled Chase to his feet. “Or you can walk. Your choice.”

Chase shook off the big hands that held on to him and trudged toward the mouth of the cave. “The WR couldn't keep me from running and neither can you.” He found Mel squatting beside the laptop, picking through the pieces. She glanced at him, but wasted no time looking away.

Switchblade hurried behind him. “Come on, Miss Melody. Load that mess in the duffle bag if you want to. We gotta go now.” He reached into the driver's side of the car and pulled the trunk release.

Mel gathered the broken shards of her laptop and stuffed them in the bag. She had nothing to say before she started walking up the road.

Switchblade lifted the bag over his shoulder and went after her. Chase tried to follow but his legs seemed heavy as lead. He stopped in front of the smoking drone. A flicker of fire still rose from the center. Grabbing a broken branch from the ground, he held it to the flame. Then he carried it to the car, pulled the lever that opened the hood, and lit fire to the electrical system. He went to the open car door and threw in the branch, starting a second fire. His legs found the strength to walk away before flames engulfed the vehicle.

Switchblade and Mel turned around and watched the car burn as Chase caught up with them.

“You got rid of the car but you lit up the sky,” Switchblade said. “
That
is
not gonna keep the Feds away.”

“Doesn't matter. They know by now that the drone exploded. What difference does a little more smoke and flames make?”

Switchblade shook his head and continued walking. “If it doesn't make any difference, you didn't need to do it.”

“I've decided to make it my trademark. When I leave one of my screwed up messes behind, I start a fire.” Chase followed Switchblade.

Mel still hadn't said a word.

“Oh yeah, you've done this before,” Switchblade said. “I heard about Underground Atlanta. What'd you set on fire down there?”

“Six cyber-guards and two dead men.”

“Sorry I asked,” Switchblade said.

They walked in silence as the sun disappeared. Leaving the road, they headed into unfamiliar woods with no technology to lead the way. Mel and Switchblade each carried a sleeping VPad. They didn't dare wake them up, even though they were undetectable. At least, they were the last time Chase ran a check. Things had changed.

“I don't guess you know where we are or where we're going,” Chase said to anyone who cared to answer.

No surprise—it was Switchblade who responded. “In the daylight, I might be sure we were headed northeast. In the dark…”

“How far were we from town the last time you checked your VPad?”

“Little less than six miles to the museum.”

“Six miles on the road,” Chase said. “It could be ten miles through the forest. That is, if we even knew we were going in the right direction.”

The moon lit the night well enough for them to see where to take the next step. Chase and Switchblade agreed they should go back and stay within sight of the two-lane byway, but remain near the dark edge of the woods, hidden from view. Mel didn't have anything to say about the plan. She just followed. Chase stayed clear of her.

Three vehicles passed several minutes apart. Self-drives—small ones. Each time one of the hydro-powered cars neared, Chase and his traveling companions ducked into the trees. So far, if any monitors picked up on them, the people in the cars didn't seem to care.

Maybe they should try hitchhiking. Chase had relied on the kindness of strangers before. They were so far past their expected arrival time that the believers at Blue Sky Field must be worried. They might have already sent somebody out to look for them. An old pick-up truck might be coming down the road to bring them in.

But there weren't any supporters left up top in Herouxville. “Yeah, and whose fault is that?” Chase tipped his face to the sky. It'd take hours to summon a vehicle from farther away.

“Who are you talking to back there, Charlie?”

“He talks to himself,” Mel said. “Ignore him.”

“For your information, I was talking to God,” Chase told her.

“Oh, really?” Mel stopped at the edge of a drop-off—they'd followed the road but the terrain was higher now. “My mistake. Most people who talk to God have a little more faith than you do.”

“What would
I
know about faith, huh?” He lunged at her. “I don't know anything about this faith you all share. Because none of you bothered to tell me about it.”

“Charlie…Chase, back off,” Switchblade said. “It's been a little intense since you arrived, and none of us is too good at talking about this. The law sort of tied our tongues.”

Chase whipped around to face him. “Who in the underground cares about the law? That's no excuse. I had dreams, and
your
God said that you would tell me how to…do whatever you people do to connect with Him. But you're all too busy running from the Feds and bringing in enough stale bread to get through another day.”

He seethed again at Mel and slipped closer, his face inches from hers. “But never mind the rest of them. You had all the time in the world before all this started. Before I died and got reborn. And you should have told me.”

She stepped back. Her sorrowful eyes grew wide. And then she dropped out of sight.

“Mel!” Chase dove to his stomach and reached down the steep slope as far as he could. His hands grasped for her but found only stones and dead grass. The moon gave enough light for him to see her clinging to a root that protruded from the hillside. “Hold on, Mel. Don't let go. Don't let go.”

Large rocks lined the road beneath her. From the corner of his eye, Chase caught sight of a vehicle—bigger than the self-drives that had passed—headed their way. A light band of blue and green flashed across the top. The colors of the WR.

35

“Switch, grab my feet and lower me down,” Chase yelled.

“No,” Mel cried. “You've got to get out of here. Run. If they find me—”

“They are not going to find you! Try to pull yourself up.”

“You can get me out of whatever center they put me in. I know you can. Just go.”

“No, Mel. There aren't any more tricks left in me. Remember?” Chase inched down the slope as Switchblade tightened his grip. “I am not going to lose you. Now grab on!”

She offered a trembling prayer as she reached for him. “Father God, forgive me. Give this good man strong arms.”

Chase clutched her hand. He reached farther down and grabbed hold with his other hand. “Pull us up,” he yelled.

Switchblade yanked Chase's legs and slid him backwards. Mel's arms cleared the top of the ridge, and Chase pulled with all that was in him until he had her on level ground. He knelt next to Mel and she collapsed into his arms.

The approaching vehicle shined a searchlight across the ridge. Chase lifted Mel and carried her away from the edge of the slope and dropped her onto her back. Then he fell on his stomach beside her and put his arm over her.

“Switchblade, get down,” he said.

The big man hit the ground, his face in the dirt and his hands over the back of his head.

The beam crept over the rise and made shadows of the trees. For a moment it hovered. Then it jumped to the other side of the road. Back and forth it snaked. Chase held his breath for a solid minute. Then the light crawled away, down the road, until it was out of sight. Chase eased to a sitting position.