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“What about Spiker?” Dr. Gold asks.
“We’re going to deal with her right now,” Tommy says.
I struggle. But I’m tied up. And worse yet, I’m beaten.
I’ve never been beaten. Even when I box and get my ass kicked, I never lay down, I never admit defeat. But now I feel like I’ve been gutted. Like I’ve been turned inside out.
I struggle. But at some level I almost think I deserve to be shoved into the tank. I’ve been an idiot. I’ve screwed up everything.
I’m the son of monsters, and I almost destroyed Terra Spiker who … even now, even as they drag me away, I can’t quite wrap my head around it … Terra Spiker, who wasn’t the worst person in the world.
– 42 –
The rest of the trip is, shall we say, awkward.
I, the creator, sit by myself while my creation talks shyly with Aislin, and Aislin talks shyly with him.
I, the smart one, am feeling pretty stupid.
I’m thinking about my mother—soon to be in a federal prison. I’m thinking about the vengeful guy who dictated that fate. I’m thinking that Adam is superior to Solo in every possible way.
And I’m wishing Solo was with me.
The bus lets us out a mile from the Spiker campus. We trudge along together for a while down the steep, curving two-lane road, dodging aside to avoid being run over by the occasional BMW.
Aislin and Adam walk together. It just seems natural for me to get out in front a little.
A Porsche comes tearing around a blind corner and nearly hits Adam.
I see the driver’s face. His mouth is a big O. His eyes are wide.
The brakes screech. The car stops a couple hundred yards away. The backup lights glow and the car swerves back toward us.
It stops. The window rolls down. There’s a bland, vaguely familiar, middle-aged man behind the wheel. Complete mismatch between the driver and the car.
“It’s him!” the man cries.
He’s looking at Adam.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“Sullivan. From accounting. I—” He’s confused, clutching the wheel like Wile E. Coyote holding on to his latest rocket sled. “You better look out,” he says at last. “They’re crazy. They’re really crazy.”
/> “Who’s crazy?”
“All of them.” He spits the words out. “All those scientists. They’re all nuts!”
“What’s happening?” I demand. I put my hands on the door, trying to convince him not to bolt. But he rears back, scared.
“I have no part in this!” he cries. “I just moved the money around. I’m not putting people in vats or, or, whatever they’re planning to do.”
He puts the car into gear and, with a final terrified look, goes tearing off down the road.
“We need to hurry,” I say. “You two go as fast as you can. I’ll run the rest of the way.”
“I can run,” Adam says. Of course he can run. He has amazing legs, incredible stamina, maximized lungs, all the things I gave him.
“Yeah, but Aislin doesn’t so much run as trip and stagger,” I point out.
