sickening moment of pain. His mouth opened in a silent scream.
The pace of the beeps had been wildly erratic while Justin listened to the message and now, it began to climb steadily.
“What’s going on?” Mary asked worriedly. She had come on her own today and told them that Tad was in the office and she needed to see Justin. Even when they closed the pod lid again, she stayed, pulled a chair close to the pod, and rested her forehead on it.
“He’s remembering,” DuBois said. He looked like he was making a calculation in his head. “It was a risk whether to tell him or not. I decided it would be less stress on his nervous system if he expected to remember rather than having the memory come up at an unexpected time.”
Amber nodded, but Mary couldn’t make any sense of this. What did he mean?
The other woman saw her confusion and came to sit next to her. “Have you ever remembered something frightening?” she asked. “It can be scary. You start to sweat or your heart begins to race. Things like that. Justin is having that right now while he remembers the accident.”
“Is he safe?” she whispered. The pace on the machines wasn’t climbing anymore, but her heart was still in her throat.
“As safe as he can be,” the other woman said. “Mrs. Williams, Justin is getting better. It may seem like a slow process but think of it like a broken arm, or—well, after having a baby. Stress on the body takes a long time to heal. Right now, much of that stress is in Justin’s brain. We need to give it time.”
Mary clutched her hand gratefully. “Thank you,” she managed to say, “for everything you’re doing.” She looked around the lab. “Thank you to all of you. It seems almost scarier to see a window into Justin’s mind right now.” She extended a hand to touch the pod with trembling fingers. “It hurts to have him so close and know he’s…almost awake but not be able to talk to him.”
Justin paced around the campfire as night fell. Lyle had eaten big chunks of the meat and Justin’s food had, exactly as DuBois told him, made him feel full.
He wanted to say something to his parents but he didn’t know what.
Before he could change his mind, he held his wrist up, pressed the blue medallion, and began to speak.
“Mom, Dad—I got your message. This isn’t easy to understand and I’m…scared.” He didn’t want to say that in front of his dad but it was out there now and he didn’t think this had an erase message button. “I want you to know I wasn’t trying to do anything stupid that night. Tina was driving because I had been drinking. I tried to—to get out of my shell a little, I guess. I love you a lot. I’ll be more careful in the game now that I know.” He pressed the button again to stop the recording. Please don’t let me die. He wanted to say it out loud but he knew they were doing everything they could.
He sat and wrapped his arms around himself.
It scared him that he didn’t know what to do next.
It was early evening when the senator arrived. He had changed again into his sweatshirt and jeans and he didn’t smell wonderful. When he saw Jacob’s face, he shrugged.
“I took a cab,” he explained. “I’m trying to stay off their radar.”
“Who are they?” he asked. Williams looked at him as if he were trying to make up his mind and Jacob shook his head. “They came after all of us in that ambulance. Who are they?”
“IterNext, I assume.” DuBois had appeared in the kitchen without either of them noticing. He didn’t seem particularly bothered by the knowledge. He took a carton of milk out of the fridge and poured himself a large glass. “They’ve watched me for years.”
“It is IterNext,” the senator confirmed. “But it’s me they’re after. They…offered to pay all Justin’s medical bills if—” He sighed. “Well, it was a bribe. A blank check for them to call in a favor during a senate vote in the future.”
“They do that?” Jacob was shocked. He didn’t like to think of himself as naïve but bribery was something that was whispered about on news shows like a huge scandal. The idea of it happening like this was oddly jarring, not to mention the other facts. “And they followed your son’s ambulance? What was that, a