Page 104 of Jump or Fall
“Did Millon and Kimmie make it back?”
“Yeah, but they ran into Max. Turns out Wells didn’t kill him. He’s been keeping an eye on anyone trying to get to Nella, but he won’t be coming back again.”
Relief washed over her at the thought of Max finally being gone. He had been nothing more than a pathetic lapdog, breathing down her neck and sniffing around Dawson’s feet.
“Can I fly a bird?” she asked. “I want to see if Nella’s there.”
“Sure. The Armory has the best connection.”
Gordon helped her down from the bed. The adjustment to her new eye left her feeling off balance, and a dull ache pulsed at her temple as they made their way to the Armory.
He handed her his tablet and pointed to the controls. The display showed the point of view from the bird perched on a ledge. She typed in a command and the bird took flight, its wings flapping at the edges of the screen.
Mara watched in fascination. “It looks so real.”
“Wait until you see one in person. The only giveaway is the eyes.”
Much like her own.
“Where do you keep them?”
“I built them little nests—mostly to keep anyone from tracking one back to me.”
“Do they run on lithpacks?”
“As backup power. The feathers have micro solar cells that keep them running during the day. The skin is made from living cells, which is how they look so real. They can bleed as well, but the inner components are all artificial.”
She selected Dawson’s house as the waypoint, and the city unfolded below her on the screen. From above, it looked almost beautiful—nothing like the nightmare it was on the ground.
As the house came into view, dread settled in her gut. Even through a screen, it felt suffocating.
Armed guards stood out front and blood smeared the pavement. Bodies were being loaded into a truck, while another person hosed down the street.
Mara maneuvered the bird to a window and perched it on the ledge.
“Set it to auto-view,” Gordon suggested. “Makes it look more natural.”
She adjusted the settings, but the room was empty. It was almost exactly how she remembered it—except for a dress laid out on the bed.
“This was my old bedroom,” she said quietly. “I lived in this house for a year and a half.”
Gordon placed his hand on her knee and scooted closer. “I can take over if you want.”
She shook her head. “No… It’s just strange, seeing your old prison from the outside. But good, in a way.”
She guided the bird to the back patio and settled it on a tree branch.
A young woman lounged in a chair, lazily swiping at a tablet. Long, white-gold hair cascaded over her shoulders, her tan skin was radiant beneath the light fabric of a lavender sundress. Sunglasses hid her eyes, but her resemblance was remarkable.
“She looks like a long-haired Kimmie.”
“Yeah, Deluri all look like that,” Gordon said. “The traits are so strong it takes a couple generations to dilute them.”
“Interesting.”
It was clear that Dawson had a type: women he found rare, unique, or useful. They were status symbols to collect and flaunt. Nella was just another prize.
The back door opened to the patio.
