I picked up the plastic bag with supplies, since I wouldn’t have time to return before meeting Nick at the hangar, and left my room. I made my way over to the military section of the base and retrieved a gun and ammunition from the armory—which I had been shown on the tour the day before.
Nothing was locked, and true to Nick’s word, I had free rein of the facility. Beyond free rein. I didn’t have to answer to anyone, and the captain had made it crystal clear that deciding on Tessa’s fate was entirely my call.
I was wearing the bracelet that Nick had given me on my right wrist, and I activated it so I could communicate with the AI. I asked it for directions to the holding cell Brad and Tessa were in, and it was only too happy to oblige. Not that it had any choice given my recent status upgrade.
I learned that their cell was located on the east wall of the ground floor, and I made my way there as quickly as I could with my newly acquired gun.
The holding facility looked like nothing more than a standard bedroom with an entire wall missing, replaced by an invisible wall of force. As was the case in the bunker, the wall was outlined in a glowing green to remind all parties it was there. Two single beds were in sight within. Brad was sleeping peacefully on one, and Tessa on the other, both lying on their backs. Brad would remain here for another thirty minutes or so before being transported to the ship we would take to the island.
“Base AI,” I said to my wrist. “Set the force shield so it allows me to pass through.”
“Done,” said a disembodied female voice coming from my bracelet. “You may enter at will.”
I thanked the AI, strode through the invisible wall, and stared down at Tessa, peaceful as an angel on the bed.
God she was beautiful in repose. Magnificent.
But I hadn’t fallen in love with her because of her looks. I had fallen in love with her for everything else—the looks were simply a bonus.
Still, her face showed the radiant countenance I remembered, even while she slept. Memories of her laughter filled my mind, of the fascinating conversations we had, and the playful banter we had so often engaged in. It was hard to imagine how the chemistry between us, which had always been off-the-charts amazing, had been faked.
But it had been. All of it.
I lifted the gun and placed the barrel against her forehead. This would be quick and painless. She had given me no other choice.
Still, looking at her, my heart swelled with emotion. I still loved her. Intensely.
Which was inexplicable to me. She was the woman of my dreams, yes, but only because she had been hand-picked to be just that. Practically tailor made for my every taste. So of course I had fallen in love. How could I not have? She was the product of the ultimate computer dating algorithm, irresistibly appealing to me on every dimension.
But given everything I now knew, given everything she had done, how could I still be in love with her? How weak, how pathetic.
Some tiny, subconscious, delusional part of me must still be clinging to the past, refusing to acknowledge reality. I was clearly deranged, but I couldn’t choose my own feelings, which at the moment were too powerful for me to overcome. Perhaps I needed a few minutes to gather my resolve.
I removed my finger from the trigger and lowered the gun.
But as soon as I did, I realized that killing her had become almost a compulsion. I had to do it now or risk losing my resolve forever. It seemed as if an unseen force was lifting my arm back up and pointing the gun at her head. Placing my finger on the trigger and beginning to pull downward.
I jerked my finger away at the last moment and lowered the gun again.
This wasn’t like me. She had broken my heart, and she had shown a level of cruelty I had never imagined her capable of. But if you’d have told me I would ever kill someone in cold blood, no matter what the circumstances, I wouldn’t have believed it.
So why was I so determined to do so now?
What could have triggered this sudden obsession with ending her life? Had she said something in the bunker so horrible, so unforgivable, that my subconscious couldn’t rest until she was dead?
Tessa hadn’t been herself during our time in the bunker, to say the least. But I realized something important at that moment—neither had I.
I had been strangely flat emotionally the whole time. Dr. Jekyll had turned into Mr. Hyde before my eyes. Tessa had taunted and savaged me. Treated me like a fool. Thrown my love for her in my face.
This should have torn my heart in two. Brought tears to my eyes that wouldn’t go away. But I hadn’t shed a single tear.
It had felt like biting pain at the time, I guess, but in hindsight, it was as if I felt the pain intellectually rather than viscerally. And it was nothing like the emotional pain I had felt when I woke up inside Nick’s base. The pain I had felt the entire day.
Why would the hurt be so much more excruciating a day later than it had been while I was actually experiencing the emotional stabbing?
Thinking back, I had been more like a zombie while inside the bunker than anything else. And I didn’t remember thinking about what my next words should be when I spoke with Tessa. They had just spilled out of my mouth on their own. I had felt bland, vanilla. Almost like I had been absent a soul.
When Tessa had announced she was giving me up, handing me over to an executioner, I was shockingly flat about that as well. I didn’t lift a finger to stop her. I didn’t plead my case. And I didn’t feel the abject terror my imminent demise should have evoked within me.
And there had been something off about her in the bunker, too. I mean, other than her having turned into the evil Mr. Hyde. Something so subtle, I couldn’t put my finger on it. But I had spent 24/7 with her for six months, and my subconscious instincts had detected an incongruity that my rational mind had not.
As I was thinking this through, my arm rose again, and the gun almost placed its own muzzle against her forehead. Once again, as I was about to pull the trigger, I was flooded with love for her.