The Body Electric

Chapter 19

The air leaves my body in one whoosh, and I stagger back away from Jack as if he’d hit me. But then I shake my head, clearing the confusing thoughts.

“I just talked to her, less than an hour ago,” I say.

“You really didn’t,” Jack says in a terrible low monotone.

I scrutinize his face, but even though he’s wearing an emotionless mask now, there is truth in his eyes, grief. His shoulders are slouched in defeat. He’s got the build of a soldier boy—athletically large, quick reflexes, a certain set of his jaw that indicates he’s seen more than he should.

But no matter how much he appears to believe what he’s saying, he’s obviously lying. Or crazy. Or both.

I glance down at his arm, and notice the way he tugs the sleeve of his jacket over his wrist. I remember that he’s missing his cuff.

“You’re off the grid,” I say. “You’re on the run. You… you deserted the military didn’t you?” This fully supports my theory that he’s tied in with the terrorist rebels Representative Belles is getting mixed up with, and I grope behind me for the doorknob, feeling the cool metal solid beneath my fingers, ready to run if I need to.

A muscle moves behind Jack’s jaw. “Around a half a year after I joined,” he says. “After Akilah…”

I wave my hand, dismissing this. Akilah’s not dead.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jack growls.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m a deserter.”

“Akilah’s not dead,” I state, and saying the words makes me feel stronger. “You are a deserter, and—” I stop talking. I don’t know what I was going to say next. And I’m leaving? No—I can’t. I don’t know how I got the tracker program on my cuff, but regardless, the tracker’s destroyed now. If I leave, I’ll never be able to find Jack again. This may be my only chance to capture him for PA Young.

My hand closes on my wrist, my finger millimeters away from the panic button that will bring the police.

“Wait,” Jack says. It’s the way his voice cracks over the word, desperate, that makes me look up at him. “God, I hate this,” he mutters, running his fingers through his shorn hair. His clear, pale eyes—not quite blue or gray, but something in between—look up and meet mine.

“Just—here.” Jack holds out the thing he retrieved from the other room earlier, waiting for me to take it. My hand shakes as I reach for it. A small, folded up piece of paper that’s slick and heavier than normal paper. A digi strip. “Just watch this, then I think you’ll understand.”

“What is this?” I ask, opening the strip up. The screen is dark, waiting my command.

“Answers.”

Exactly the thing I came here to find.

“I’ll wait, here.” He points to the other room. “Just—watch it. And then if you still don’t believe me, I’ll…” He lets the promise hang in the air between us, unspoken.

I unfold the digi strip slowly as he turns to the other room to give me privacy.

“And—” Jack says, pausing at the door.

I turn, but he doesn’t speak for a long time. He just looks into my eyes, as if trying to see through me.

“And?” I prompt, impatient.

“And,” Jack says, his voice low now, “I’m sorry.”

I flatten the unfolded digi strip in my hand, swiping my fingers across the surface to turn it on. A date written in black letters illuminates the screen. December 26, 2341. Last year, just after Winter Festa. There’s a small timestamp on the bottom, certification that this digi file was recorded on this date.