Chapter Sixteen
“Brandt?”
I turned to see Devin approaching from the other end of a long, blue hallway.
“What—I dove into your dream?” I cursed and kicked at the wall. I’d hoped to hit Henley’s twisted mind. I didn’t know if I could do anything to stop him, but it would have been worth a shot. My foot went through the wall and when I pulled it out, it was coated with blue slime. “What the hell?”
She shook her head and pointed behind me. “I don’t think this is my dream…”
When I twisted around, I saw what looked like pictures on the wall—only they were moving. Individual scenes. Most I didn’t recognize, but there were two that made it all clear. The first was Donna, the secretary. She sat at her desk as Wentz watched from his office door with longing in his eyes. The second was a small dark haired child alone in a room full of toys. His expression was sad, wires going from him to several large, beeping machines several feet away.
Impossible. This was totally impossible…only it wasn’t. The pictures on the wall were all the proof I needed. Wentz wasn’t a Six, yet somehow I’d managed to jump into his dream—and I’d pulled Devin with me. I’d been around enough other Sixes to know that our abilities got stronger as time went on—look at Dez. She told me using her ability used to make her physically ill, but now she barely felt anything at all. Sheltie’s ability must have been evolving because it appeared I could enter Nixes dreams, too.
I hoped the drugs in Wentz’s system didn’t have much to do with it. As soon as this was all over, I wanted to pay my parents a visit.
“What are you doing here?” If I’d accidentally pulled Devin in, what were the chances that I’d dragged Henley along as well?
Hands on hips, she stomped her foot. “What am I doing here? This is Wentz’s head, right? I didn’t take the bus over. You yanked me in!”
“Not here, here. Here as in Dromere.”
Red rose in her cheeks. “Oh. I followed you, obviously.”
“I got that. Why? Last time we were together, you couldn’t get away from me fast enough.” There was an edge to my voice I knew was wrong. She had every right to be upset, but the Cain parts felt betrayed.
“I saw you sneak out. Saw Henley, too. I figured it couldn’t be good, so I followed.”
“And got yourself knocked out.”
“Yeah,” she said, looking away. “Well, that wasn’t part of the plan.”
“I was thinking about you when I passed out. I guess that’s how I accidentally dragged you in.”
“You were thinking about me?”
“Henley is here to kill Wentz. No telling what he’ll do to you if he wakes up and you’re still here.”
“Henley’s here to kill Wentz? Why?”
“His ability? The formula we both failed to get? Any of this ringing a bell? I have to stop him.”
Her expression bounced between disbelief and hope, and I felt a twinge of possibility. I was sure she hadn’t forgiven me for lying, but she’d followed me. That was a start. An inconveniently timed, stupid start—but still, a start.
After a moment, she said, “Let’s go find Wentz. I don’t think we have a lot of time.”
…
“This place is like a maze.”
“Tell me about it,” I griped. We’d wandered around for the past twenty minutes—at least that’s what it felt like—with no sign of Wentz. I tried several times to change the landscape to bring us to where he was, but nothing happened. My best guess was my injury hampered Sheltie’s ability. Wherever Wentz was, we had to find him because I didn’t know how much longer I could keep us in here. I was starting to feel weird. Cold and a little achy, not to mention the headache I had from all the bright colors. Wentz’s head was like a carnival on steroids.
“You were going to double cross me and steal the formula yourself.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah.”
“Even though you knew that meant Anderson wouldn’t help my father?”
“Yeah.”
Devin let out a sigh. “What am I supposed to call you?”
The question threw me. “Call me?”
“Your name,” she snapped. “What’s your real name?”
“That’s a complicated question.”
She stopped walking and spread her arms. “Looks like we have some time—and honestly? I’d like some answers. You have no intention of handing that formula over to Anderson, do you?”
“No.”
“But you want it. Badly. I wanna know why.”
I looked down. I was me again, so there was no blood on my shirt, but Cain’s body was lying on Wentz’s office floor, bleeding to death from Henley’s gunshot wound. I didn’t want to panic her, but we really didn’t have time. “First off, I didn’t lie to you.”
Her eyes got wide. “You told me you would help—”
“Brandt,” I clarified. “I didn’t lie to you about my name. It’s Brandt.”
She started walking again, watching me through a curtain of wild chestnut waves. We came to a tree made entirely of what looked like red Twizzlers with a dozen or so fish bowls at its base. The branches dipped low, dropping tiny bits of candies into the bowls. The fish swarmed the candy, gobbling it up. “But, you’re also Cain…”
“I’m a Six. What they call a Soul Jumper.” Knuckles to temple, I tapped on my head. “This me? This is the real me. Well, the real me I used to be…”
She scrunched up her nose. I’d seen her do it a hundred times since we met, and each time, I loved it just a little bit more. “You know that’s confusing, right?”
I gestured to the man who’d appeared to our right. Dressed in a business suit that had the word Dromere stamped across the lapels, and seated on a wooden park bench, he had the head of a frog, tongue darting out every few seconds to snatch one of the bright yellow bugs buzzing around his head.
“You wanna talk confusing?” I pointed to myself. “This was who I was. This is the body I was born in. My uncle—Marshal Cross—he works for Denazen. He had me killed.”
She paled. “So, you’re saying you’re dead?”
“You’re dead. You’re dead. You’re dead!” a chorus of bright pink parrots squawked as we passed. They were perched in a tree—this one made out of black licorice instead of the previous red ones.
“Not dead—transplanted. That’s what a Soul Jumper does. When our heart stops, we jump into the body of the nearest person. If it’s another Six we also get their ability. The dream jumping ability belonged to Sheltie. He’s the guy who killed me.”
“You’re saying that your uncle had you killed?”
“I was trying to help my cousin, Dez. I got too close to some info my uncle didn’t want out, and yeah, he had his butt monkey, Sheltie, kill me.”
“Jesus,” she breathed. “So what about Cain?”
“Cain was—a bad guy,” I said, guilt creeping up my throat. “That file you read on him—it was all true. The dude was messed in the head. I don’t think it was totally his fault—his father was a psycho—but still…”
Understanding sparked behind her eyes. “When you told me you’d changed…that you weren’t the same person as the guy in that file…”
“I was telling the truth. I wasn’t. I was me in his body.”
“OhmyGod,” she gasped. “Did he kill you, too?”
“No.” I took a deep breath. No matter how I said it, I was going to sound like a lunatic. “I killed myself.” The statement was strange—but no stranger than Wentz’s mind.
Her skin paled and her eyes grew impossibly large. “You—what?”
“Denazen—Zendean—uses Sixes to do some pretty major stuff. Like kill people. They started playing around with genetics a few decades back and, as a result, people are dying. Some of us are trying to stop them—to help the others. I was sent in to see if I could dig up anything on a cure. That’s why I planned on getting the formula. We think it will save these people, well we hope.”
“And what does that have to do with Cain?”
“I was in Sheltie’s body, but I needed to be someone on the inside of the Zendean facility. Cain was new and he had a useful ability…”
“So you jumped into him,” she finished for me, swatting at one of the pink parrots as it dive-bombed her head. It’d been following us for a few minutes now, circling over head. All I could think was, I hope it doesn’t crap on us. But, knowing Wentz, it would probably shit Twizzlers.
I nodded. “I made sure Cain was with me when I died and I jumped into his body.”
“What happened to him?”
“I don’t know. He’s gone. Evicted…”
I waited for her to cringe—I’d just technically admitted to murder—but she didn’t. She just kept walking. Eyes forward and shoulders stiff. “What about my father? I understand you want to help these other people, but what about me?”
“I know some people who might be able to help your father. I can’t make any promises, and I’m sorry about that, but even if this wasn’t about the cure, Denazen can never get their hands on that formula. Just, trust me on that.”
She thought about it for a moment, then sighed. “These people that are in trouble—because of what Denazen did to them—you know one of them?”
God, she was smart. “My cousin. Dez. They gave my aunt this drug while she was pregnant. It was supposed to enhance her baby’s Six ability, but it had nasty side effects. By the time altered Sixes are eighteen, they essentially go nuts…”
“So you did this all for your cousin? For Dez?”
I didn’t answer.
“Don’t you think that I understand what you’re saying? I was willing to hand over that information to save my family even though I knew it was wrong. You should have just been straight with me.”
“I wanted to tell you but there’s a lot riding on this. I wasn’t sure I could trust you. And when I finally did, I screwed it up by kissing you.”
“Yeah,” she said, tone annoyed. Then her expression softened. “I was starting to feel guilty. I really liked Brandt—I mean, you—but Cain and I had this connection. I liked him, too. More than I should have. He was exactly the kind of guy I’d go for. He was exactly like Josh. Twisted, mean, and wrong… But still, there was something about him.”
She stopped walking again and took my hand. The pink parrot that had been following us let out a loud squawk and exploded in a puff of sparkles and pink feathers. “But now I know what it was. It was you. I might not have realized it at first, but I liked Cain because he was you. That day in the rec room—when we were paired for drills—that was you, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. I shouldn’t have been around anyone that night. I’d just made the jump and things were kinda messed up.”
She shook her head, not smiling, but not frowning either. “I know… I knew there was something different about you. I mean, you were still an a*shole, but it wasn’t the same as before. You were more moody than mean, ya know?” She dropped my hand and took a step back. “But you still lied. You should have told me.”
“I couldn’t tell you about my abilities or who I am. Can you imagine the damage they could do? Kill me off a dozen times, throwing me into different Sixes bodies? Think of the power I could collect. I left my cousin—my entire family—behind so that wouldn’t happen.”
“But you ended up mixed up in it anyway,” she said softly.
“Yeah. Well, I guess Dez is right. There are just some things you can’t outrun.”
“Wow,” someone said behind us. “I usually don’t dream about the office… Well, not you guys, anyway.”
We whirled around and there was Wentz, standing at the end of the hall. A tall glass filled with golden liquid—beer I guessed—with a Twizzler sticking out, in one hand and a bright gold umbrella dotted with tiny orange fish in the other, he approached us like he was strolling through a park. Not a care in the world. “Devin… How weird.”
“Wentz!” I ran to meet him. “You have to wake up, man. You’re in a lot of trouble.”
He blinked several times before taking a long pull on his drink. “Who’re you?”