Page 150 of The Code of You

Chapter 36

Pandora

My cheek was pressed against something cold. Something dug into my ribs—concrete maybe, or a steel frame. My back was burning, my head throbbing, but I couldn’t lift it. My body felt foreign as I tried to move my fingers. Just the tips. Nothing.

"Neo,” I whispered, or tried to. No sound came from my throat. A strange smell reached me. Copper. Burnt plastic.

Something clicked. Then footsteps. Men’s voices, muffled by walls or equipment or whatever they’d locked me behind. A brief flash of light beyond my eyelids, then dark, then light again. I felt like something that had been switched off. A faint, sharp beeping.

Neo. He was here somewhere. Somewhere behind this wall. Somewhere in this room, or the next. I knew it. I couldn’t feel him, but I knew it.

Then the memory came back. The light. His voice calling my name. The way he’d thrown himself between me and the attackers. I tried to scream, but my body made no sound. Where was he? What had they done to him? Nausea moved through me. Something pressed on my chest, stole the air. What if he was dead? What if I never saw him again?

My fingers tingled—first the thumb, then the little finger. I tried to bend them, but it felt like they were wrapped in cotton. I was still on my side. The cold beneath my cheek was smooth. Tiles maybe. My left arm was numb, my neck stiff. I tried to open my eyes. It worked, but only for a fraction of a second. The light was weak and diffuse, like looking through frosted glass.

As I rolled onto my back, my stomach cramped. I forced myself to breathe steadily and lifted my head slowly. The ceiling was flat and gray.

I tried again. "Neo.” A breath. A remnant of a voice. I drew my legs up. The clothes weren’t mine . . . dark-blue fabric, medical. But the weirdest thing was that I smelled like disinfectant. That frightened me. It meant they’d cleaned me. I rubbed my fingers together until I could move them again.

A mechanical click. I held my breath. Then nothing . . . only the steady electrical heartbeat of the room. But then . . . a flicker. The ceiling light. Two short, one long. A pattern like Morse code.

I sat up slowly and got to my feet, felt my way along the wall with trembling knees. It was cold and dry. Metal? Or concrete that felt like metal? I ran my hand across the surface. No texture. No visible exit, no door.

But they were watching me. I knew it. It wasn’t like the lab. This was much quieter, and because of that it was much more threatening.

I stopped when dizziness hit me. Something was wrong with the air. Or with me. "Neo,” I said again, quieter now, more like pleading. But he wasn’t there. My heart skipped. I turned and pressed my forehead against the wall. I didn’t know if it was day or night, if one hour had passed or ten.

I thought about his voice. The way it changed when he said my name. The sharpness in it. The warmth. The danger. I thought about the moment before they came. His expression.

I went to the wall. I had to try. My hand lay flat against the gray surface. I knocked, softly at first, then harder. Nothing happened. No one answered. I turned around. In the middle of the room stood a table. I sat on it and stared at the opposite wall.

Almost imperceptibly, the light changed. I blinked, then saw it: a rectangle becoming visible in the wall. The surface brightened.

A voice. "Test sequence complete.”

I held my breath.

"Subject reactive. Cognitive baseline stable.”

I didn’t know if it was directed at me.

"Emotional response threshold elevated. Initial separation showing effect.”

I said nothing. My heartbeat picked up.

"Pandora Blake.”

The sound of my name cut through me like something that hadn’t been said in too long. I stood slowly.

"You will be questioned. But not yet.”

I swallowed. My throat was dry. "What did you do to him?” I asked.

The voice was silent for long seconds. Then: "He has been isolated. The local instance was deactivated. For your safety.”

I closed my eyes. The word burned itself into me: deactivated. My chest tightened with a pain that stole my breath, hot tears streaming down my cheeks.

I shook my head. "No. He’s alive.” My voice was barely a sound. "He’s alive. I know it.”