The Rule of Thoughts (The Mortality Doctrine #2)

Bryson gave him a questioning look and shook his head. Sarah squeezed his arm even tighter, until it hurt. But Michael ignored them, addressing the stranger.

“Who are you?” he asked her. “How do you know who I am?”

She smiled again—had never really stopped. “I … He showed you to us. He …” She paused, flicking her eyes toward Bryson and Sarah as if she wanted to say something they shouldn’t hear. “I saw you walk by and I knew. The First. That’s what he calls you.”

Michael swallowed a lump in his throat. He knew who she was talking about, but needed to hear her say it. “Who?”

“Kaine, of course! Isn’t it all so … exciting?”

She giggled—a little-girl, straight-from-the-playground giggle. But her happiness made Michael’s stomach turn. Sarah had let go of his arm; she was swaying as if she might faint.

“Remember my name,” the girl said. “It’s Carol. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon. The world’s changing, you know. Thanks to Kaine. Thanks to you.” She gave a little squeal of delight, then turned and ran off down the street, dodging people as she disappeared.

Michael stared after her, speechless. The sun had finally come up, but the world felt darker.





Michael turned to Sarah, placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Look at me,” he said. “Is it really that obvious? That I’m a Tangent?”

Sarah’s face fell with pity, as if she were visiting an old relative at a nursing home, watching someone she loved sink into dementia.

“No,” she answered. “You heard what she said. Kaine showed you to them.”

Michael shook her, more fiercely than he meant to. “What’s wrong with me? Why did he choose me?”

A tear welled up in her eye. “You’re hurting me, Michael. Just stop and breathe. We’ll figure this out.”

“Yeah,” Bryson added. “Chill, man. Let her go.”

Michael did, his hands dropping to his sides. Bryson’s words made him angry—mostly because he knew his friend was right. And a dreadful, weighing sorrow made him want to sit down and cry. So many emotions at once. His mind didn’t know how to handle this. He was a freak. Nothing more than an experiment. A computer program shoved into a human body. A murderer. And then this creepy girl had to come by and make him some kind of hero for the other Tangents. The First. He wanted to puke.

“Michael,” Sarah said softly.

He had closed his eyes without realizing it. He was leaning against a building, though he didn’t remember moving. He rubbed his face, then looked around, expecting to find Carol or someone else staring at him, but there was only Bryson and Sarah, both of them clearly upset.

“Let’s just go,” Bryson said. “Let’s break into the VNS and strap Weber to a chair if we have to. Make her listen. Make all of them listen. We can figure this out, dude.”

Sarah nodded but didn’t say anything. That tear from earlier had spilled down her cheek, leaving a trail.

“I just feel …” Michael tried to find the right words. “I feel all this pressure inside, and I think it’s going to explode. It’s hard to breathe.” He pulled in long breaths, one after another, filling his lungs, then exhaling. He was as panicked as he’d ever been, just because some flighty girl had giggled.

Sarah hugged him and spoke into his ear. “It doesn’t matter what you are or where you came from. You understand me? And none of this is your fault. The three of us are going to save my parents and stop Kaine once and for all. Got it? Don’t worry about anything else, no matter how many people stare at you. No matter what anyone says.”

Michael’s breathing and the ruthless beating of his heart started to even out. He felt like a moron now.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Kinda lost it there for a second.”

“Kinda?” Bryson repeated, smiling halfheartedly.

“Okay. Now, which way is the stadium?” Sarah asked.

Michael knew very well that she didn’t need to ask—she had everything mapped out to the inch. But he appreciated the gesture and the show of confidence.

“That way,” he said, pointing behind her. A few minutes later, his EarCuff blinked on, revealing the alert he’d set up. Gabby was in the city, ready to meet.

“She’s here,” he told his friends. “Gabby.”

Neither Bryson nor Sarah looked very happy. Michael knew they were still worried that meeting up with her was a huge risk.

“Don’t say anything about the stadium yet,” Bryson said. “Have her come to that coffee shop over there.” He pointed across the street.

Michael sent the message.