Split Second - Page 23/42


“If I see him, see that he’s just an average guy, maybe he wouldn’t haunt my dreams.”

“Bobby’s brain patterns are being studied right now to help create the best recovery track.”

“They aren’t wiping him?” I didn’t mean to say that so loudly, but it surprised me.

“He’s a minor. We’ve had great success with total brain rehabilitation.”

How exactly did they qualify “great success” with a crime rate so low? Most people like Bobby were cured long before they reached that level of madness. So it had worked on one other murderer, years ago? “He’s at the DAA then?” Even better. Here I thought I was going to have to ask her to use her Bureau connections in order to see him, but she could get me into the DAA any day.

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” My disbelief was apparent in my voice. I thought it would take a lot longer to talk her into that. Maybe even some tears. Okay?

“Did you want to go now?”

Was I not the only one with an agenda here? I wasn’t going to question her willingness. I jumped up and made a beeline for the garage.

“Just a word of warning,” she said as we made our way through the halls of the DAA. “He’s being housed in a room that cuts off access to all abilities. Yours will be unavailable as well.”

We came to yet another security desk, and she palmed the pad and directed me to do the same.

“Visitor for Bobby Baker,” she said.

We went through a door flanked by two cameras, their lights blinking.

“His room is also monitored twenty-four/seven.” She gave me a sideways glance with that statement, as if saying, Watch what you say, because you will be heard.

We stopped in front of a thick door, and she slid a panel aside, revealing a window. And there he was, sitting on a bed. My heart seemed to freeze for a moment. I hadn’t prepared myself for this. I didn’t think it would be a big deal. It was a big deal. He had almost killed me a few short weeks ago, and I guess I hadn’t fully processed that. The completely Healed cut on my neck seemed to itch with his presence.

My breath was shallow, and I tried to suck in some air without letting it show how much he affected me. I threw my shoulders back. Bobby did not have control over me. I was stronger than him.

“You ready?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She pressed a button on the keypad next to the door. “Bobby. You have a visitor.”

He looked up and met my eyes through the glass. I held his gaze, refusing to look away. He wore a T-shirt and jeans, no shoes. Small circular devices were attached to his temples. He swung his feet to the ground but didn’t stand.

Mrs. Coleman entered a code on the keypad, and a glass partition lowered from the ceiling, effectively cutting his room in half. Then the door in front of us slid open. I didn’t move. I had to remind myself why I’d come. I needed to control my advanced ability. Bobby knew how to do that. Or at least he had known. Mrs. Coleman had said they didn’t do a complete wipe on him, but did they do a partial one?

“Do you want me to go in with you?” she asked, reminding me I hadn’t taken a single step forward.

“No, that’s okay. I got this.”

“This door will remain open. I’ll be right here.” She pointed to a workstation at the end of the hall, fewer than ten feet away.

“Sounds good.” I took my first step forward.

Bobby still sat perched on the side of his bed with a semi-amused expression on his face. “Laila.” His voice was perfectly audible on this side of the partition. Clear, precise, confident. Just like it always had been. He still had his memories fully intact. “Welcome to my home.”

A metal chair sat in the corner on my side, and I hooked it with my foot and dragged it as close to the barrier as possible to prove to him he didn’t scare me. “Hey there, Bobby. How’ve you been?”

“What do you want?”

“I needed to see you here. Helpless.” My head started to hum a little, and I remembered what Mrs. Coleman said about the blockers in this room.

“You’ve seen me. You’re free to go.”

I reached forward and ran a finger down the glass. “It must kill you to know that if only you could use your ability, you’d be out of this room in less than a second.”

One of his eyelids twitched. “I hear Addie might be my neighbor soon.”

That sentence stopped my finger midway down the glass. “What?”

He just smiled his creepy smile, showing me his statement had hit the mark.

Just then I heard voices in the hall. Unable to advance my hearing, I could barely make them out.

“This is getting awfully close to warning her, Marissa.”

“Laila sought me out. I haven’t said a word to her.”

“Good, because this has to happen without interference for the deal to be valid. One word from you and we’ll enact the Threat to the Compound clause and bring her in here.”


Bobby raised his eyebrows at me. “Like I said.”

“What did you say to them?”

“Why do you assume it was me?”

“Because you’re a lying psychopath.” Mrs. Coleman said I was being listened to, so I made sure not to say anything that would indicate I’d heard the conversation in the hall. “How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

I so didn’t want to say this, but I hoped it would be vague enough for anyone listening and specific enough for Bobby. “Become the master.”

The smile that took over his face reminded me why I hadn’t wanted to say it. But he got the reference. “If only you had been a better student before”—he knocked on the glass—“this. Now it’s too late.” He lay back on his bed, dismissing me.

“Bobby. Be a good citizen.”

He just laughed. His laugh was very unnerving.

Mrs. Coleman poked her head into the room. “Everything okay in here?”

I stood. It was obvious Bobby wasn’t going to help me. “Yes. I’m ready to leave.”

After he was locked up and we were leaving the building, I said, “I thought you were going to fix him. He’s still completely deranged.”

“Right now we are just gathering the data. Then we fashion the program. It’s an enlightening study for us. We can pinpoint brain patterns and hope to be able to prevent this in other children in the future. It may be against his will, but Bobby is being a good citizen.” Her use of the word made me realize she had heard everything we had said. Did she know I had heard her as well?

“Where are we going?” I asked as she turned right instead of left on Main Street. “Isn’t home the other way?”

“I just had a small errand to run on this side of town. Is that okay? It shouldn’t take long.”

“Sure.”

We came to the large tunnel that ran beneath the river separating old town from new. I hated this tunnel. Avoided it at all costs. Not just because it went under the river, but because it marked the beginning of Founders Park—our preserved piece of history. So I always expected this tunnel, its engineering centuries old, to collapse at any moment. I watched the mounted lights go by, noting how different they were from the updated part of the city. Suddenly, Mrs. Coleman stopped the car and instructed its flashers on. Then she turned toward me.

“I need you to warn Addie when you see her. Not over the phone.”

“Of what, exactly?”

“Just tell her to be careful. Not to show her hand. They can’t know Bobby affected her in any way or they will lock her up. They think she has a piece of Bobby’s ability now. He said it went both ways when he tried to take a part of her ability.” She was talking fast, and I found myself watching her mouth so I wouldn’t miss a word. “They fear him. The first serial killer the Compound has had in over a hundred years. We thought the programs had cured that mind abnormality long ago.”

“Addie is nothing like Bobby.” It was apparent she’d wanted me to hear that conversation in the hall.

“I know.” She glanced at the clock on her dash. “Tell her to get back on the program I sent with her. It’s suppressing any advancement in her ability. Keeping her safe.” Mrs. Coleman stepped on the gas and peeled through the tunnel fast, obviously trying to make up the few minutes we had been at a standstill. “I’m glad you came today. It would’ve been too obvious if I had sought you out,” she said right before we exited. The sun blasted the window as we came out of the tunnel. She laughed. “And that is why I will never own a dog.”

I blinked. Oh. Right. She was making up a story for the tunnel. “I’m glad you didn’t hit it,” I said, doing my part. I swallowed and looked out the side window. Addie’s mom was hard-core. I had no idea.

CHAPTER 25

Addie: I figured out a solution.

“Addie, hello again.” He put on the headphones and ran the imaginary metal detector stick over me again before he let me in. “It’s good to see you.”

After the agents showed up at my house that morning, I could sort of understand his paranoia. “Are you sure the Compound doesn’t know you live here?”

He shut the closet door and turned around. His smiling eyes went serious for a moment. “The only way to truly be free from the Compound is to disappear.”

“What do you mean? Do they think you’re dead or something?”

“It’s the only way.”

That wasn’t a direct answer to my question, but I guessed it meant yes. At least in his mind. And if he was happy, I wasn’t going to try to change it.

The agents had sidetracked me, but there was a reason I was in my grandpa’s apartment again. I wanted my memories back. The desperate urge to have them back had been coursing through me all night. I had hardly slept. “Can you restore memories?” I blurted out.

His eyes went wide, but then he slowly nodded.

“Will you restore mine?”

He picked up a mug full of steaming liquid off the coffee table and brought it to his lips. Then he set it back down next to his odd devices—the devices that reminded me he wasn’t quite sane. “Let’s go to the box.”

My eyes lingered on the toaster, and I hesitated. Should I really let him do this? He slid open the back door. He was a Healer. The worst thing that could happen was he wouldn’t be able to Heal. I followed him to his back patio. The box took up most of the patio, but the other half, I now noticed, was covered by a vegetable garden growing in big pots. The smell of the fertilized dirt made my stomach turn.

He held open the flimsy cardboard door for me. The phone in my pocket chimed with a text message. I stepped into the box.

“What exactly are you hoping to restore?” he asked.

“I’m not sure, actually. My best friend is a Memory Eraser, so . . .”

“You think she stole some of your memories? You don’t trust her?”

It took me way too long to say, “I trust her. And no, she didn’t steal any.” Laila left all the memories of her betraying me with Duke perfectly intact, and she could’ve Erased them. She didn’t.