“Life couldn’t be simpler,” Douglas said gruffly, though he broke his stern act with a smile. “You follow me, Kinto follows you. And all your dreams will come true.”
The man didn’t wait for a response. He headed for the door and Michael fell in line behind him, with Kinto right on his heels. They went through the shattered doorframe and into the hallway, the apartment building silent except for their footsteps.
For some reason, Michael thought of Lifeblood Deep, how it had been his life’s goal to make it there someday, and a wave of sadness washed over him. He’d been there the whole time. And now look where he’d ended up. He knew it was ironic, somehow, maybe even profoundly philosophical, but all he could feel was defeat.
He kept walking.
Michael and his escorts made their way down the hall to the elevator, out of the building, through the bustling streets, and to the subway. He sat squeezed between the two men as they jostled along underground, and his thoughts kept returning to Jackson Porter. His family. His girlfriend, even. Gabriela.
What had happened to the consciousness of the boy once known as Jackson? Was that it for him? Had his mind, his personality, been erased? Or was it stored somewhere, somehow? If Michael could be transferred into Jackson’s body, maybe Jackson could be transferred out.
He kept thinking about how Jackson’s family was basking in the sunshine in Puerto Rico, oblivious that they’d lost a son and a brother. Guilt overwhelmed him. Though it hadn’t been his choice, he’d taken a life, and he wished he could make the loss bearable for them in some way.
Not a word had been spoken between Michael and the others since they’d left the apartment, unless you counted the grunts the men made when they needed to change direction.
Michael sat, quiet, as the train pulled into a station and stopped. The doors opened and he watched absently as the passengers crowded in like herded cattle. There were some who smiled or apologized when they bumped into others. Those were few and far between. One woman barely made it through before the doors closed on her, catching the corner of her handbag. She had to yank hard before it came free, allowing the doors to seal shut.
As Michael observed, his mind started turning. His gaze went from the woman to her purse to the door, and his thoughts picked up speed. What in the world was he going to do? He literally knew no one, had no home, no money, no clothes. No place to start. Did he continue with these people, go to this gathering place, this meeting, find out what Kaine wanted with him? He needed answers from the Tangent, but did he dare let himself be trapped in a situation he couldn’t get out of?
He missed his family and his friends more than anything. They couldn’t all be fake—he refused to accept that.
The train continued along the tracks, flashing lights breaking up the darkness of the tunnel. He was surrounded by people—some dozing, some reading, many just blankly staring into space. Kinto and Douglas sat on either side of him, their shoulders pressed against his, their faces as blank as most of the others on the train.
Michael had a sudden thought: if what Agent Weber from VNS had told him the night before was true, Michael wasn’t alone. Somewhere out there in the big, bad world, he had the two best friends a person could ever ask for. They weren’t Tangents like him—they never had been. They were real. Weber had said so.
Bryson and Sarah.
Michael then realized he was scared of something: what would his friends think of him? He was a Tangent. Did that change things? He had a sudden and terrible vision of them stumbling backward, running away from him, a freak that had taken the body of a real person. Stolen it.
But did he actually believe that? Wouldn’t they understand?
Yes, he decided. Yes, they would.
The train bounced and creaked, everyone staring down at the floor. Lights flashed and dimmed, then blazed back on. His two escorts said nothing.
He couldn’t go with them. He just couldn’t. Yes, he needed answers. Yes, he needed to figure out a way to confront Kaine and find out the why of everything. But not this way. Not with the Tangent calling the shots.
Michael needed Bryson and Sarah. He thanked the stars that he’d seen that poor woman get her handbag caught, because it had sparked an idea.