Page 28 of After the Fall

“A group of masked men captured me in the woods and brought me to Genocorp where they injected me with something. I don’t know what. There were so many needles.” He rubbed his left bicep, his eyes darting around the room like a caged animal. “They said it was some kind of experiment and that they needed me to be ready. For something big.”

Connor and Wyatt passed a knowing glance between them.

“Did they say what they were testing?” Atticus asked, shuffling back and forth on his feet as he clutched his belly. He burped loudly. “Ugh. Shouldn’t have chugged that beer.”

The man shook his head. “They never said what they were testing. They r-r-rarely spoke to us.”

“Us?” Wyatt growled.

The man nodded. “They kept us in cages, like animals. There must be at least f-f-fifty of us being held there and experimented on.”

Connor and Wyatt passed another look between them. This was bad.

“Did you ever see their faces?” Wyatt asked.

“No. They always wore masks. I only heard their voices.” His head dropped down, as another fat tear trickled down his cheek. “It was such a beautiful day to hike. My wife was going to come with me, but our babysitter canceled last minute. Thank goodness, or she might be here beside me.” His whole body convulsed as tears cascaded down his face. “They came out of nowhere and surrounded me. I – I wish I’d never left the house that day.”

It felt like my own heart was ripping into a million pieces. Was that what had happened to my father? Had he also been taken away against his will and experimented on? My sorrow was quickly replaced by guilt. I’d wasted so much time being angry at him for leaving, when it was time that could have been spent searching for him.

I bit my lip to stop myself from crying. Savannah’s arm draped around my shoulder as she gave it a squeeze. “Don’t blame yourself, Harper. You didn’t know,” she whispered, her eyes glimmering with compassion.

“How do you always know what I’m thinking?” I whispered.

“Do you really need to ask? I’ve known you for a long time. We’re in this together, like always. We’ll find your dad, and he’ll understand why it took so long. I promise.”

A loud groan caused us to turn back to the scene unfolding before us. Only it wasn’t the prisoner making the noise. It was Wyatt, his palm covering his forehead and eyes.

“Atticus, can you finish up here?” he moaned.

Atticus clutched his belly. “I’m not feeling so good either, Boss.” Beads of sweat covered his forehead.

Wyatt turned to me, his face contorted in pain. “Tank can stand guard. We’ll come back later,” he muttered. “I need out of this basement. Now.”

As he latched onto my arm, I could feel his whole body shaking. Silently, I directed him from the theater and up the stairs. His body felt weak against mine, and worry began coursing through me.

Tank seemed surprised to see us. His eyebrows knitted together with concern as he saw Wyatt’s condition. “Boss? You okay?”

Wyatt held out his palm. “I n-need fresh air. And some…” He paused.

Connor and Savannah stood nervously behind us on the stairs. Behind them, Atticus leaned wearily against the railing. Wyatt lowered his voice to a whisper. “Get Gloria to make a giant pot of red tea. Fast.”

Tank peered down the staircase, his eyes widening. “On it, Boss. And I’ll make sure the prisoner doesn’t go anywhere.” Hepulled out a walkie talkie and began mumbling instructions into the receiver.

The walk outside to the veranda was slow and agonizing, like trying to steer a giant boulder. My body strained with effort against his solid wall of muscle. I could tell Wyatt was in pain, though he didn’t complain once. I helped him into a chair and sat down next to him. Savannah and Connor silently took their seats across from us.

Atticus sunk into the chair next to Wyatt. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his head in his hands. “It feels like the world’s worst hangover,” he groaned.

My eyes clouded with worry as I clutched Wyatt’s hand in mine. He leaned back in his chair, rocking his body, his eyes closed. I had never seen him in pain, though somewhere at the back of my mind, I knew that wasn’t true. Another memory stolen from me, most likely. The red eyes of the rogue flashed in my mind, and I shuddered.

“Wyatt,” I whispered. “What’s happening?”

FOURTEEN

WYATT

The stars shone brightly,far above the lights that criss-crossed over the patio. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, hoping to stop the patio lights from twinkling, their yellow light pulsing in a hazy arc that I knew wasn’t real. Stars twinkled; my damn patio lights did not.

The feeling reminded me of the first and last time I’d trusted Tank’s foraging skills. We’d spent a day shitting our pants and hallucinating.

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