Пинтип Данн - Remember Yesterday

Just my luck. MK Rivers.

“Bottom line, the chairwoman wants the reports on her com, first thing every Monday morning,” MK says. “I don’t care what you do to make it happen. Just ensure that it does.”

“With all due respect, MK, I don’t report to the chairwoman,” the man says. His name tag says PRESTON, and he has black hair, eyes that come to a crease at the corners, and a square jaw. Scruff on his chin that reminds me of Mikey, but maybe that’s because he’s approximately Mikey’s age, somewhere around thirty.

He looks familiar. I know this man from somewhere. Is he one of Mikey’s friends? A covert member of the Underground? Or maybe that’s not it at all. Maybe he looks familiar because I’ve glimpsed him at Dresden’s side in the news feeds, and one day, he’ll destroy us all.

“The chairwoman is consulted heavily on all TechRA projects. For all intents and purposes, she is your boss.” MK’s voice is low and surprisingly gentle. She doesn’t sound like I expected, given the bars on her shoulders. “If that’s not enough, you know this is personal for her. This girl means everything to her. The reports would ease her mind, and frankly, she’ll be a better boss for me. Maybe she won’t yell as much if she’s consistently updated.”

My heart thrums against my ribs, so hard I worry my body is vibrating the stretcher. Olivia. They have to be talking about Olivia. My old friend is ensconced behind that locked door, and she’s calling to me for help.

“What’s this?” Preston says suddenly, his voice coming directly above me. The stretcher beneath me moves.

Fike. I must not have realigned the stretcher properly. Don’t wiggle , I order myself .

“What’s the matter?” MK asks.

“Nothing. I don’t think.”

I feel the scientist’s eyes like a solid object, pushing and prodding my face. I lie as still as possible. Not twitching. Not breathing. But he stands over me too long. The pressure in my lungs builds too much. Climbing, climbing, climbing. When I can’t bear it anymore, I take a tiny sip of air.

Oh Fates. My chest rises. He must see it. I’m done for.

But he doesn’t say anything. I hear a small sound that might be a gurgle in his throat, and then, the security system beeps. The door clicks open. “Coming?” MK asks impatiently.

“Right away,” he says.

I feel a light pressure on my arm above my elbow, and then he walks away, his footsteps pattering the ground like raindrops.

My heart jumps into my throat. Did he squeeze my arm? He must know I’m not one of the corpses. And yet, he didn’t turn me in. Why? Who is he?

As I debate the possibilities, the door closes. MK and the mysterious guy are gone. I’ve lost my chance to threaten them. Lost my chance to get inside. Lost my chance to rescue Olivia.

Disappointment floods me. I should’ve jumped from the stretcher; I should’ve acted. But the surprise at seeing MK rendered me useless.

I flex my fingers around the stun gun. Next time, I’ll be ready.

I lie back on the stretcher and wait.

Twenty times, I brush against my bedmate’s arm, and twenty times, I cross my arms over my chest, vowing not to touch her again. Twenty times, my mind drifts, and twenty times, my arm drops. Her skin presses against mine, disturbingly cold, and I yelp, silent and desperate, inside my head. Then the cycle starts all over again.

MK and the scientist come back out. I hold my breath, bracing for another signal from Preston, a meaningful throat-clearing or a touch of his hand, but there’s nothing. When they reach the elevator capsules, I hear MK’s voice. “So, it’s settled. You’ll file that report next Monday, like we discussed. The chairwoman is very anxious about the girl’s condition.”

The man’s answer is lost in the whoosh of the capsules.

Two hours later, my legs are hot, my neck is sweaty, and the hand wrapped around the stun gun is sticky. I was more comfortable hanging upside down over a cage of mice.

Dear Fates. How did I end up in this situation? There’s no telling if anyone else is coming today. How long am I going to wait? I could be at home, drinking a tall glass of gingerade, eating spaghetti from the Meal Assembler and dreaming that it’s pappardelle.

And my legs would still ache with the compulsion to run down a particular hallway. Olivia Dresden would still be trapped, wondering why I haven’t responded to her call.

I have to stay. Who knows if I’ll be able to sneak down here a second time? I owe my old friend at least this much.

I readjust my grip on the gun, and then I hear it. The whoosh of the elevators. Someone’s here. Finally.

My muscles bunch like I’m about to swim one of Logan’s meets. I’ve got this.

The capsule doors open, and a figure walks out. He’s dressed in cargo pants and a thermal shirt, and his hair falls over his eyes.

All the breath and resolve flee my body. My bones turn to water, and the determination encasing my heart trembles. Wouldn’t you know it? Tanner Callahan. Exactly who I don’t need.

My mind whirls, trying to process this twist of fate. I can’t exactly follow through now. I already ruined his experiment. Can I threaten him with bodily harm, too? What will he think of me? Does it matter? It shouldn’t. This isn’t about him. It’s about Olivia. Right?

I need about a year to puzzle this out, but time doesn’t have the good manners to slow down. Tanner marches right by me and strides to the security system. In a matter of seconds, he’ll disappear inside the room. I have to act. Now.

My plan hasn’t changed. Threaten to stun the scientist, get inside that room. It makes no difference that the scientist happens to be Tanner. None.

Quickly, before I change my mind, I launch myself off the stretcher and point the stun gun at his back.

The stretcher crashes into the wall, and he turns at the noise, his eyes widening. “Jessa? What are you doing here—”

“Get me into that room, or I’ll stun you.”

He looks at the gun and lifts his arms slowly into the air. But instead of backing away like he’s supposed to, instead of breaking into a sweat and fumbling with the security system, he walks toward me.

Fike. This is so not in the plan.

“Stay where you are! Don’t come any closer!”

“Or you’ll do what? If I’m lying inert on the floor, you won’t get into that room.”

I tighten my grip. Damn him and his logic. It’s not like I haven’t considered the dilemma. I was just hoping I wouldn’t have to resort to the second part of my plan.

“There’s another setting on this gun—the tort mode.” My voice shakes as though I’m the one being threatened. “It will focus the electricity on a single part of your body. You won’t be knocked out, but you will feel excruciating pain.”

“The tort setting?” He lifts his eyebrows. “Don’t you mean torture? Torture of a living thing. Of another human being. You’re not going to tort me, Jessa.”

“I will if you don’t do what I say.”

He stops in front of me, close enough for the metal barrel to brush against his chest.

Close enough to kiss me.

“I don’t believe you,” he whispers. The way his eyes capture mine, it’s like he sees all the memories stuffed inside my body. From the time I watched my sister plunge a needle into her chest to now, when I stand before him, a torture device in my hands and trembling in my heart.

“You can’t even bear for lab mice to be confined in their cages,” he says, his voice steady and sure.

My mouth falls open, and it takes two tries to push out the words. “What…what do you know about the mice?”

“I know you broke into my lab, Jessa.” He moves closer, even though I would’ve sworn there weren’t any more steps between us. “I know you opened the cage and let my mice loose.”