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.I can’t move or breathe but I can taste and feel and I want him so much that even with him this close it’s still not close enough I can’t get close enough.“Luke,” I try to say, but it comes out as more of a sob because he doesn’t understand all the broken pieces and the things I’ve done.I’ve told him but he doesn’t understand that I’m drowning in an ocean of guilt and regret.I’m haunted and sick and rotten to the core and he’s good and bright, the brightest thing in the world.His kiss is savage like a thunderstorm, like he’s desperate and sure.“I know,” he rasps against my mouth.“I know how it hurts.But it’s supposed to.”And I realize at last that he does understand, maybe even better than I do.Chapter EightMay 1st, 2063LukeThe secretary—I can’t remember her name—smiles in a way that makes me think I must have flirted with her before.Maybe I hooked up with her.I don’t know and I don’t care.I ignore her and head straight into the office.Jean is on the phone when I enter, so I gaze out the windows while I wait.We’re on the eighty-eighth floor and the ground is so far away I can barely see it.Every person down there is cracked in the head.I’m surrounded by a sea of dimwits.They disgust me.This whole fucking world disgusts me.“Luke,” Jean says.I turn and sit before her desk.“I trust you’re feeling better?”“Chipper,” I mutter.“Your vacation didn’t relieve you of your delightful attitude, I see.”I can’t be bothered to respond.If I have an attitude it’s because she’s given me one.The world has given me one.Jean leans back in her seat and eyes me.If I didn’t know better, I’d think she’s cured—she’s certainly robotic enough.I’m supposed to be like that, but I can never seem to swallow the fury.“What’s my next operation?” I ask impatiently.“You may be a Gray, Luke, but I could easily have you demoted if you don’t watch your tone with me.”I fold my arms—it’s the only gesture I can muster the energy for.Hopefully she’ll think it means I’m taking her seriously.The truth is she would never demote me—she can’t afford to, and we both know it.“Your mission,” she tells me.Pressing a few things on her tablet, she projects an image onto the screen between us.It’s a girl.Dark hair, pale skin, possible European heritage.Between fifteen and seventeen.I can’t judge her height because she’s sitting on a train, gaze cast to the sky outside her window.She has a hat pulled down over her forehead so I can’t see her eyes very well.She’s skinny and tired.“The girl?” I question, eyes narrowing.“Josephine Luquet.”“Is she a threat?” This girl doesn’t look like a potential terrorist, but I’ve come to understand that nobody looks like what they are anymore.I take a closer look, but can’t find anything interesting about her.The picture’s too static—I’ll need to get a look at her in real life before I can make a proper evaluation.“You are not required to make any judgments on her—all you are to do is set up a full surveillance program and report.”I stare at Jean.She has long athletic limbs, dark chocolate skin and blue contact lenses.She’s startling in appearance, unflappable in manner, and when I was fifteen she was the most terrifying person in the world.I feel so far from that boy that I don’t even know who he is anymore.I haven’t been frightened in years.Quite frankly, I’d love to be frightened.At least it would be something other than angry.“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I say softly.“A watch op? I’m a Gray.”“When you go on vacation, you get left the crap jobs,” she says.“I wasn’t on vacation—it was medical leave, because I got shot in the shoulder doing a job for you,” I remind her.I can feel my temper rising like a dangerous beast.“This is your next job.Josephine is eighteen, a foster child.Passed around between many different temporary homes because she was diagnosed with clinical aggression at a young age.”“Parents?”“Nobody knows.She was found on the side of the road when she was two.She ran away from her last foster family when she was fifteen, and she’s been living on her own since.I’ve sent her file to your home office.”“I’m not there anymore.”She seems to understand what this means straight away.“You’ll be needing new accommodation then?”“Looks that way.How long am I supposed to watch the kid?”“That depends entirely on the information you find on her.”I crack the knuckles in my hands.Slowly I stand up, trying to keep control of myself.“I’m not babysitting some crazy little bitch for the rest of my life so that you can feel like you’ve locked me in a safe box.”Jean sits forward, holding my eyes like she does when she’s trying to intimidate.It works on most people.“Agent Townsend, listen to me very closely.Yes, you are the highest-ranking field agent in the country, but you still work for me, and for the nation.You will do the tasks you are required to, or you will be stripped and cured.Is that clear?”My jaw clenches.“I should have ordered it years ago,” she adds.“You’re arrogant and reckless and ruled entirely by your emotions.By rights you shouldn’t make a good agent.”“And yet I do.Funny.”“You do when you behave as you should.The rest of the time is a disaster.”“I have a higher success rate than any other Blood in the world.What more do you want from me? Do you want me to be a lobotomized freak like the rest of society? Because at this point I don’t really care anymore, Jean.Go ahead and strip me if you want.”What’s the point in surviving if you’re completely alone?I think of all the people in all the zombie movies I’ve seen.Instead of running around like headless chickens, always trying to escape the inevitable, why don’t they just give in and join the zombies? It would be a lot easier.And nobody would want to eat them anymore.Jean loses patience.“Get the job done.You’re dismissed.”I feel like throwing the chair through the window.This is bullshit.As I walk from the office, moving through all the security scans and swabs and X-rays, I consider when my life became so empty.All I can do at the moment is run and fight, and force myself into impossible situations, because if I spend one single moment sitting still I’ll go bat-shit.Dave would take one look at me right now, make some dumb joke and my foul mood would evaporate.But Dave won’t be making another dumb joke, and I have the people I work for to blame for that.I’m part of a system I was too cowardly to deny.If only I could have realized it sooner, I might have been able to change something.*I’m onto my thirty-fourth cigarette by the time the girl finally gets home.It’s close to midnight—she must do bar work or something.Tomorrow I’ll have to find out, but for now I need to know the hours that she comes and goes from her apartment.I’m beyond pissed off.Me sitting here in the cold and the dark is entirely the kid’s fault.After my meeting with Jean I went straight to Josephine’s address, scoped out the place, figured out where I’d be stationed, set up my equipment and settled in to wait for her.I haven’t been to this part of town for years, which is funny, because Dave and I grew up three blocks from here [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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