Kelly Meding: Chimera

The sun was nearly down, casting the courtyard in shadows and putting a chill in the air. Two more men just like Robo-Man joined them at the puddle-jumper. Their faces were different enough that they probably weren’t related, but each one had the resigned expression of a soldier who knew no other purpose than following orders. And underneath that technology stuck to their heads, they were (at least according to our security scans) still Meta.

What the hell had been done to them?

The four Robo-soldiers climbed into the puddle-jumper. Switch didn’t. They powered up and flew away like that had been the plan the entire time. They headed toward southern New Jersey, not the observation tower, so any chance of Joe Meade stopping them evaporated.

“I’m a person of my word,” Switch said. Without lowering the Coltson, she removed a small device from her pocket. She typed something into it. “Your people in Richmond are safe from me.”

We were alone in the courtyard, just me and Switch. The person also known as Uncle, who’d caused us so much pain this past week. Who’d caused other people so much pain decades ago by stealing their children and faking their deaths. As desperate as I was to understand her reasons, all I could do was stand there and hate her.

“Why did you stay?” I asked. “Switching sides again, Switch?”

“No one turns on the Overseer and survives, Flex. Not even me.”

“Why not? Who is the Overseer?”

“He never should have sent them after her.”

“After who? Bethany?”

Switch took something out of her pocket and held it up. A flash drive. She lightly tossed it to me. “There are two videos on there,” Switch said. “Video one is for the kids, from Uncle. Please let them watch it in private first.”

“Okay.” I clutched the drive hard to keep my hand from shaking. She was giving me instructions, which meant she wasn’t going to shoot me. So what was going on? “What about the second video?”

“The second video is for Dahlia.”

“Dahlia?”

Switch pressed the muzzle of the gun to the underside of her chin and squeezed the trigger.

I’d thrown up on the grass twice before Sasha found me outside by the entrance steps. She helped me stand, seeming more confused than hurt.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I’m not sure,” I replied. “She killed herself.”

“Is that . . . is that Switch? Uncle?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

Sasha swallowed hard, her glittery eyes shiny with tears. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I, trust me.” I pulled out of her hold, grateful for the help but perfectly able to stand on my own.

Dahlia. Infirmary.

I was running before I even realized it, straight to the infirmary, with Sasha shadowing me—and thankfully eighty-sixing the questions I couldn’t answer. Sasha’s people and my two Greens were in the corridor near the infirmary.

“There’s a little boy named Andrew hiding outside somewhere,” I said to no one in particular. “Tell him Renee says it’s okay to come out.”

I hustled through the waiting area and into the private hallway. Persistent thudding came from behind Kinsey’s closed office door. I shoved it open and earned a grunt as it hit something. The obstacle moved, and I got the door open the whole way. Dr. Kinsey was on the floor, mouth gagged with medical tape, his wrists and ankles bound with plastic zip ties.

“Untie him,” I said to Sasha, who knelt and tried to unwind the tape around his mouth.

The door to Double Trouble’s room was open, the bed empty. My heart slammed double-time against my ribs. I checked Landon’s and Maddie’s rooms next. They were both fine—alert and confused, with no additional wounds.

To my utter shock and relief, I fell right over Noah when I burst into Bethany’s room. He was on the floor, curled onto his right side, half awake. I crawled to him on my hands and knees and grabbed his shoulder.

“Noah, it’s Renee. Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

He reached up to clutch my hand, face scrunching in obvious pain. He let out a long, low groan.

“Noah? Did they hurt you?”

“My head,” he said.

“They hit you in the head?”

“No, not that. Hurts . . . can’t . . .”

Dr. Kinsey stumbled through the door and knelt opposite me. “Noah? Son, what happened?”

Noah twisted his neck and blinked up at his father. The green was back in his eyes, some of the shadows below them gone. But any relief at those changes shattered into horror when his face crumpled and he said, “She’s gone, Dad. I can’t feel her anymore.”

“What?”

“Dahlia’s gone.” The words ended on a choked gasp. Dr. Kinsey pulled his son into his arms and held him while he shook.

Dahlia was gone.

So why had Switch given me a video meant for her?

Communication with our people in the field was mysteriously restored while we were helping Noah back into bed. Sasha reported that no one in Virginia was dead and they were working swiftly toward managing the blaze. She didn’t tell them what had happened to us. She said that was my job.

Nice kid.

I called Teresa back while Sasha watched her video gift from Uncle. Teresa didn’t sound like she had the energy to flip out, and she went really quiet when I told her about Dahlia.

“He hasn’t felt her since he woke up,” I said.

“I don’t understand,” Teresa said, her voice rough with emotion (and probably smoke inhalation).

“Kinsey’s theory is that Switch was somehow protecting the hybrid-Changeling project. Nancy Bennett’s name was on some of the initial project research, and they worked together during its development. She must have known Noah and Aaron were the only two surviving Changelings.”

“And then we send her information saying that Dahlia’s absorption is killing both her and Noah.”

“So she sets up her chance to get over here and separate them, saving Ace the Changeling and killing Dahlia.”

“She went through a lot of trouble just to get on to the island.”

“Maybe this was her way of quitting her job?”

Teresa snorted hard, and I heard the tears in her voice. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“I know, T. Listen, Switch left us two videos before she blew her brains out. Maybe I’ll get some more answers from those.”

“Let me know what you find.”

“Duh.”

“How’s Andrew?”

“Resilient. Simon wants to take him home, but Andrew insists on waiting until Ethan and Aaron get back.”

“He’s a tough kid.”

“Yeah. Be safe, T.”

The conversation had gone better than expected, but Teresa was probably in shock. So much had happened in the last week, and she was still dealing with the ongoing crisis in Virginia. I wandered into the rec room, to see the Junior Meta Squad in a circle around one of the computers, whispering and wiping away tears. I stood by the door until Sasha waved me over. She reset the video.

I planted myself behind them, five brave teenagers, and watched as an image of Uncle came to life on-screen.

“I cannot ever express to you children how much I regret what has happened these last few months,” he said. “One of the greatest joys of my life was watching each of you grow, teaching you and training you for what was to come. I know you’re all strong and capable, and you will thrive in this strange new world you’ve been thrust into. You’re home now, with others like you. Like us.

“I regret also that I never told you I was Meta, or about my double life. I was forbidden from telling you certain things by my supervisor. I did not always agree with the orders given to me, and I did what I could to protect you. I will never ask your forgiveness for Louis and Summer, or what was done to Landon and Bethany. I don’t deserve forgiveness. But I cannot be ordered to hurt you children again.