Page 42 of The Hijack

“New Dawn,” I repeated. “It’s some kind of underground organization that’s been following me.”

“They’ve been following you?” Theo gasped, certain that he’d never heard me express that concern before.

“What other explanation is there?” I asked. “We commandeered a boat from them off the island where we were being held. Why would they be there if it wasn’t to follow up on me?”

“Or Linc,” Theo pointed out.

“Or Linc,” I agreed.

Gretchen stood up and moved to a different computer. This one looked like something straight out of the 1990s with a clunky monitor and a tower that sat next to it. The mouse was attached via wire, and the boot-up process took nearly five minutes. When the computer was ready, Gretchen navigated to a storehouse of old data.

She pulled up two photos of operatives from that time period, one of which I recognized immediately. It was Hector Abernathy. Of course, in the photo, he was much younger than the man I remembered as a child. But the eyes were the same. That steely gray gaze that held no love was something I would never be able to forget.

He had no patience for childhood outbursts, no comfort for those of us who missed our families. He was a driving force behind all of the training we received, a constant voice in our ears telling us to push harder.

“Are they New Dawn?” I asked, my throat dry.

“These were the progenitors of New Dawn,” Gretchen said, studying me carefully. “They experimented on children to try to create super spies. It used to be funded by the US government, but when it came to the surface, they were shut down.”

I found myself unable to breathe. My eyes were locked on the photo of my foster father as this new information raised alarm bells in my mind. I knew that Mr. Abernathy had been training us to become spies. I knew that all my foster brothers and sisters were scattered to the world, supposedly working on undercover projects. But I had no idea that the government funded his work, or that he had been shut down. As far as I was concerned, we had been living within a bubble, immune to the goings-on around us. I thought the whole thing was some kind of personal experiment, like the X-Men. Abernathy was our Xavier. I didn’t know he was a crook.

“There’s more,” Gretchen said, as if her words hadn’t been enough. “The kids grew up, and Abernathy and New Dawn realized they had failed. They couldn’t train all of the children to blindly follow orders. Those who refused to play along were hunted and killed. Some escaped. Some were allowed to continue what they were doing in the hopes that New Dawn could turn them into sleeper agents.”

I saw my entire life in her dire warning. All the trials I’d been put through as a teenager, all the dry runs and assassination attempts I’d suffered before finally being allowed to leave that house. I’d wondered why I wasn’t able to reconnect with most of my former housemates. It never occurred to me that most of them were dead. It certainly hadn’t crossed my mind that Mr. Abernathy was involved.

I turned away from the screen; looking at it for so long was hurting my heart. I avoided Theo’s eyes. I had no idea what to expect from him, and I didn’t want to know. Whether he would wonder if I could be trusted now that the details of my upbringing were made public, or if he would try to comfort me, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want either. I felt like I was sinking into an abyss, and no amount of goodwill was going to help me climb out.

“Abernathy had a favorite, didn’t he, Clark?” Gretchen said, her voice razor-sharp.

I turned around and fled the room.

Chapter 21

Theo

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I DIDN’T PAUSE TO CONSIDER my words before following Clark out into the storage section of the basement. “Clark—” I tried.

She ignored me, thundering up the stairs into the kitchen. I followed close behind, determined to let her know that I had her back. I didn’t care about her past, about Hector Abernathy or his plans for world domination. That was the furthest thing from my mind. Clark had proven her motives to be true each time she stepped in to fight with me. There was nothing about her history that could convince me she was working for the wrong team.

“Hey!” I shouted.

“Hey yourself!” she screamed, turning to face me on her way up to the bedroom.

“Slow down,” I encouraged her. “Talk to me.”

“Talk about what?” she demanded. “About how I was part of some big government experiment to raise monsters?”

“I don’t think you’re a monster,” I countered.

“Well, that’s a relief,” she snapped sarcastically. “Let me go, Theo. I’m no good to anyone anymore.”

“That’s not true!” I argued. “I don’t care about your past.”

“No?” she sneered. “I think my past cares about me. You heard what your grandmother said. Abernathy had a favorite, and that favorite was me.”

“What made you his favorite?” I asked, struggling to find a way to bring the light of reason into our conversation.