get completely FUBARed,” Tim said through a hiccup. His arm rolled down and flopped to his side, then he opened his eyes and smiled. “Happy snaring.”
We exited the house, still shrugging into our jackets. “That wasn’t creepy at all,” I said.
“Not at all. Sunshine and unicorns, that’s what he’s made of,” Lucas said as he shouldered the pack.
“But he makes a good point,” I said. Begrudgingly.
“Perhaps.”
We trudged forward in silence, listening to the caw caw of snarky jays and the rustle-whisper of the wind through bare branches. “Do you ever wonder what made him so . . . bitter?”
Lucas curled a gloved hand around a strap and continued forward. “Every day,” he said, honestly. “Though ‘made’ is a little bit of a fallacy.”
We picked our way to the first trap, due east, carefully snaking around a craggy jut of stone. Jagged lines marked most of the glacier-cut rocks that towered above the tree line. “Why do you say that?”
“Because everyone is responsible for their own moods. I mean, unless you’re suffering from a medical condition,” he said, adding, “Psych 101 for the win.”
We rounded a copse of trees to where the first snare was hidden. Nothing there. I pretended not to notice the relieved slump of Lucas’s shoulders when he saw the trap was empty. I liked that he valued life the way he did.
“But you just told me yesterday about your dad. . . .”
Another brisk wind kicked up, and he slid the fleece-lined hood onto his head before turning to me. “Right. And that’s all true. I’m not saying his reactions aren’t understandable, because they absolutely are. I’m just saying that everyone is responsible for their own reactions. If you run around blaming the world for all your problems, you’ll be a victim forever.”
I digested that as we headed north, toward the next snare. Was I guilty of that? Of blaming others for my problems? I had to admit, there were times when I’d felt like a victim . . . of Holland, of the military, of Quinn. Even times when I’d felt like a victim of the woman I’d known as Mom. But wasn’t that understandable, given the fact that ever since I’d been on the run, virtually everyone I’d known had either taken advantage of me, lied to me, or tried to turn me into some kind of top secret weapon?
There were two exceptions: two boys who hadn’t done anything except offer me help and friendship.
One boy had even offered me his heart.
When I studied Lucas’s face, I noticed that his cheeks had turned a deeper pink than I’d attribute to wind chafing. “Don’t mind me. Everyone says I’m too introspective.”
I patted his arm and smiled. “It’s okay. That’s what I like about you. One of many things.”
He turned away and looked off into the distance, but not before I’d noted that his cheeks had taken on an even brighter hue.
“Mind if I go off on my own for a little while?” I asked him, changing the subject. The memory stick practically burned a hole in my pocket. I was incredibly curious about the past, and about the younger versions of Daniel and Nicole. Maybe Lucas was right. Maybe these emails would help unlock the part of Sarah’s brain that stopped the data-restoring program from running. Maybe all I had to do was read, and I’d be whole again. Or whole enough, at least, to face something really hard.
If what I remembered didn’t tear me apart.
“Of course. Stay close, though.”
I nodded before loping off into the trees. I found a fallen log and perched. One finger gently traced the fine line behind my ear, where the secret port resided. While cocooned in a haven of trees and snow and solitude, I pushed the drive into the slot and felt a click! as the metal snapped into place.
I braced myself for pain, but as Lucas promised, there was none. Just a warm tingling that grew into a steady surge of power. A heady rush as the neural pathways in my body—both human and robotic—prepared for the inward flow of information.
A flow that I controlled. I’d almost forgotten what it was like, this exhilarating feeling that I was useful and capable. Like I was built for some purpose. Only I still didn’t know what it was.
The files blinked into my mind, green and glowing. I no longer needed hand motions to manipulate them, as I had when I’d first discovered my true identity. That way had been clunky