Project Paper Doll: The Trials (19 page)

I snapped the price tag off and wrestled the cap over my unruly hair. Then I took the lead, heading behind the escalator.

It was practically deserted back here, with most people diverting to the escalator instead. The sudden openness of the space was a shock that felt like exposure.

Zane moved closer to me, hiding me with his body. “Ariane, they’re going to see us.…”

“We won’t be here long enough,” I said, relieved when I spotted the last item on my mental checklist. If I’d been unable to find it, I would have come up with an
alternative. Shattering store windows, making the lights overhead explode, something. But this—a fire alarm box on the rear wall—was much more convenient.

“Ariane.” Zane tipped his head toward the exit in the far corner, the glowing green sign beckoning.

“No, that won’t help. Can you check for them?” I asked Zane. He’d be able to see over the crowds much easier than I would.

He turned, leaning out. His whole body stiffened.

“They’re here. They haven’t spotted us yet, but—”

Without stepping out from my sheltered position behind the escalator housing, I raised my hand to direct my power and
shoved
at the protective glass over the alarm with my ability.

It gave easily, the broken bits raining down on the floor with a distinctive patter of clinking that signaled danger.

Before anyone could come investigate, I sent the pull bar on the alarm down with another flick of power, scarcely more effort than a thought. And the system responded with bright flashing lights
and a piercing wail that rose and fell, grinding against my eardrums.

“Now. Move.” I grabbed Zane’s hand, unsure if he could hear me over the noise, and pulled him out with me on the opposite side of the escalator. The agents wouldn’t, I
hoped, be expecting to see us facing them.

On the main part of the floor, everyone appeared frozen in place, some still in midstep and gesture, their faces turned up toward the ceiling, startled and confused. This was the freeze part of
the fight-or-flight response. It wouldn’t last long.

Maybe once, people would have waited for someone to give them directions or indicate that it was a test. But now, everyone was trained. Or traumatized. An alarm in a crowded public place, in a
large metropolitan area, meant trouble, possibly terrorism, and no one was waiting around to be a victim.

A couple of girls shrieked, the noise rising above the alarm, breaking the group paralysis. Like a single organism, the crowd throbbed and surged toward the doors at the front.

Those closest to the doors were pushing, to get space, to get out. The ones in the back, running to join the others. No one was getting left behind.

The agents were on the opposite side of the central space, forced there by the press of bodies moving in the opposite direction. But they were still watching, shouting at each other.

I tugged Zane with me, keeping my head level and showing no obvious signs of distress, other than the ones everyone else was making. This was the trickiest part. If the agents recognized us in
the crowd, we wouldn’t be able to get free before they caught up with us.

We merged in with the others, first on the edges and then on the middle, the flow pulling us along, like driftwood on the ocean. Or so I would imagine, if I’d ever seen the ocean.

My heart pounding, I waited, anticipating the ripple in the crowd as agents pushed toward us, ordering people out of the way.

But everyone continued to funnel outside without disturbance. After a few minutes of jostling, with Zane using his elbows and size to make space for us, the doorway loomed in front of us, and it
seemed like we might just make it.

I bit my lip. Had we gotten away with it? I couldn’t tell for sure, unable see a damn thing besides all backs, sides, and elbows surrounding me.

I looked up at Zane, catching his attention by squeezing his hand.

“Do you see them?” I mouthed. Speaking aloud wouldn’t help with the noise of the alarm, and I was unwilling to rely on our intermittent ability to communicate by thought.

Zane craned his head to look back, then he turned to me with an admiring grin. “Two of them are looking around, checking stores,” he said near my ear so I could hear him over the
alarm. “The other one is heading straight toward the back exit.”

I nodded, relieved, my shoulders sagging with it. Give them what they expected—a distraction, an attempt to evade—and then use it against them. Yet another of my father’s
lessons that had saved me.

I felt a pang in my chest at the thought of my father. Was he out there somewhere? Lured into town under the guise of some request from his former employer, the military? The Committee had made
it pretty clear that the target, well, targets, were not being held captive, had no idea they were being hunted.

My father was one of the smartest people I knew. He would have avoided any hint of GTX or Dr. Jacobs. But if the army had found him and asked him to come here for one made-up reason or another,
I wasn’t sure he would say no. His loyalty ran deep.

Even to a child that wasn’t his, wasn’t even wholly human.

I pictured him as I’d last seen him, watching me run from GTX, his face grave but proud.

And my imagination immediately transformed that image into a photo, slipping free of a manila envelope and falling into Ford’s hand. I wondered if they’d given him to her
intentionally, knowing that her appearance would disarm him. Possibly long enough for her to kill him.

My free hand contracted into a fist reflexively, fingernails digging into the palm of my hand, the bite of them a reassuring reminder that I was alive and free and there was still time to stop
Ford and save my father.

Assuming he was even here. It was possible that they’d found someone else.

Next to me, Zane picked up my tension, whether through the grip of my hand on his or something more ephemeral, like the whisper of a stray thought. He bent down with a worried look.
“What’s wrong?” He glanced around, searching for a new threat.

“Nothing. We’re fine,” I said, forcing a smile.

And we would be. As we crossed out in the bright sunshine, I refused to let myself consider any other possibility.

O
UTSIDE
, A
RIANE KEPT US WITHIN
the cloud of our fellow evacuees, leading me through as they milled around, using them as cover
for as long as possible.

“Where are you supposed to meet Adam?” she asked when we reached the corner, moving swiftly to the right so that the buildings would block us from view. “And when?”

The sharpness in her expression was a little alarming. This was Ariane on a mission, certain, unrelenting, and not entirely human. Or, not human in a way that I’d seen in everyday life.
She was focused but distant, a contradiction but the truth, regardless.

“You think Adam’s going to help us?” I asked. “He’s as douche-y as he looks, trust me.”

She shook her head. “If Justine thinks about it, she’ll realize that’s our only move. We need to beat her there.”

I hesitated. “We were supposed to meet at an alleyway, not far from Hole in One. I can show you where it is, but I don’t see what—”

“They wouldn’t have assigned Carter as Ford’s target. That means he’s yours. You didn’t look at the packet, but Adam did. He can tell us what it said about Carter,
or what he remembers of it, at least,” she said, her words clipped, maybe because we were moving so quickly but more likely because she was just in that warrior mode. “We find Carter,
and he’s the key to Ford.”

Now I got it. “Because they’re connected. Or will be, once they’re in close enough proximity.” I frowned. “Does it work that way?” I pictured Ariane and
myself walking around the streets of Chicago with Carter out in front of us, like a human…well, an alien/human metal detector set to a unique frequency to find his missing comrade.

“I don’t know for certain. Do you have another plan?” Ariane asked with no hint of humor.

I held my hands up in surrender, which brought her hand, still held in mine, up as well.

She looked over, startled, and a faint smile flickered at the corners of her mouth before disappearing beneath that hardened veneer.

“I’m supposed to meet him in…” I searched, looking for an indication of the time. No watch, no cell phone. A flashing bank sign with the time caught my eye down the
street. 10:59. “Sixteen minutes.”

Ariane raised her eyebrows.

“What? I thought it might take some time to convince you to listen to Justine,” I said with a shrug.

She nodded, her mouth twisting. “I can’t imagine why.”

“For the record, I still think it was a good option,” I said quietly.

“It…was,” she admitted. “I might have gone. I would have had some leverage, and it would have been nice to see what they had, maybe even meet…” She shook
her head, then shrugged, her thin shoulders moving stiffly. “But it’s not possible.”

And where did that leave us at the end of all of this? I guess that was something to worry about
after
we survived, assuming that we did.

Following an extended and circuitous route, which involved some doubling back, we reached the block with the designated alleyway with a few minutes to spare.

After establishing that no one appeared to be watching, Ariane led the way to a Starbucks that was perched midway down the block.

The air-conditioning attacked with a wall of freezing air as soon as we stepped in, and I shivered, despite the heat and the hoodie Ariane had given me to wear. This feeling of constantly being
sick, or on the verge of it, was wearing.

“Here. Sit.” Ariane gave me a push toward one of the tall chairs at the front of the store, where a counter against the windows overlooked the street. We’d be able to see Adam
approaching from either direction.

“I’m fine.” I waited while she paid for two bottles of water at the register.

Bottles in hand, she nudged me toward the tall chairs with her elbow, and this time I followed the suggestion.

When I sat down, sideways in the chair to keep my face in profile to the street, the room shifted, tilting a little. I grabbed the edge of the counter, bracing myself on it to regain my
balance.

Alarmed, Ariane set the waters down on the counter immediately and moved toward me, grabbing my shoulder. I reached down and pulled her closer between my knees, locking my hands behind her
back.

“What did you do?” she murmured, rubbing my arm, distress showing on every line of her face. Gone was the impassive and clinical soldier she’d been on the street only a few
minutes ago.

It was a rhetorical question, but one I felt compelled to respond to. “I’m fine,” I repeated.

She reached up and laid her hand across my forehead, fingers cool against my overheated skin. It felt so good that I closed my eyes for a second, leaning into it.

When I opened them again, she was watching me, worried.

“You look like a Smurf in that hat.” I tugged gently at one of the strands of her pale hair that had escaped on the side.

Her eyes went wide, and her hand fluttered away from me and up to the knit cap without touching it. “It’s green. I believe their predominant color is blue. And their hats are
white.”

I loved that she took her pop culture/human studies so seriously. “So…an alien Smurf.”

Her eyes grew shiny with tears suddenly.

“Ariane, I’m sorry,” I said, panicking. “I didn’t mean—”

She put her hand across my mouth, muffling my words.

“Hi,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve had a chance to say that yet.” She smiled, which made a tear slide down past her nose to hang on the edge of her upper
lip.

I pressed my mouth in a kiss against her palm before tugging her hand down. “Hi.” Then the goofy grin that she always brought out in me broke through, despite my efforts to fight it.
My face actually felt strained, stretched from it.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered, her breath hitching.

My smile faded. “I know, I’m sorry. It was the only way.”

“Is this permanent?” Her gaze drilled into me. “The changes.”

“Yes…well, maybe.” I shoved away thoughts of the boosters of virus I needed too often. “It depends on how my body reacts to the virus. It was a little more…sudden
for me than for Adam. Emerson is still tinkering with it.” That was a mild way of putting it.

She looked down. “I’m so sorry for what happened, Zane. I never meant for you to be caught up in the—”

“It was my fault,” I said flatly. “I was the one who called Jacobs. You had a plan, and I ruined it.”

“We’ve been over this. You were trying to save me. You did the best you could, the
only
thing you could do,” she said with a fierceness that was supposed to convince me
of her words.

But all it did was remind me of the inadequacy of my actions. I’d wanted to keep her alive, and the extent of my power in that situation had been to make a phone call and get her captured
by the slightly lesser of two evils. Yep,
that
had been my best.

Not anymore.

Ariane reached up, touching my cheek lightly with her fingertip, her eyes searching mine. “What happens if you stop?” she asked. “Can it be stopped?”