Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Sam raised his hands in a stop gesture, imploring her to listen to him. “No, Morana. Don’t. You don’t have to. Please.” His mind scrambled. He wasn’t good with words. But she’d given him some, and he understood now what she’d meant though he hadn’t before. “You know that other version of yourself that you mentioned? At the apartment that day?”
She watched him stoically, not lowering the gun.
“I thought about that,” Sam said. “I know what you meant. You were talking about the life you would have lived if they hadn’t changed you. If they hadn’t filled your mind with things you didn’t want or agree to. If your body had belonged to you. I know now what you meant.” Sam struggled to choose the right words that would penetrate the darkness inside, the same way Autumn’s had done for him. “But, Morana…I think we can live that life. I think if we try really hard, every day, we can be that alternate person, because that person is still in there, deep inside, just covered in all the junk they heaped on us.”
He’d realized that. Standing over Dr. Heathrow, one with the monster inside. Fully merged. He could have killed him, savaged him, but he hadn’t. Because he’d been the one in control. Sam. Whoever that was. But he wanted to find out. He wanted to know him. All along, he was stronger than the monster. It’d taken freeing it to realize. The doctor had wanted him dead. The program had wanted him dead. So Sam would live. He didn’t know what that meant, not yet, but he would try. It was all he could do.
“You’re stronger too, Morana. You defeated them today. Please.”
He exhaled harshly and took a step closer, reaching for the weapon.
Her gaze remained on him. “They won’t break the final command either,” she murmured, completely disregarding what he’d said.
They? Who is they?
“I’ve given it. It’s kinder. There’s no place for them.” A resoluteness came into her expression, and Sam’s pulse jumped. “But you, Sam…I hope there is another life for you out there, and I hope you live it.”
She fired the gun, blood exploding from the other side of her head.
Sam yelled her name as he leaped forward, catching her body before it hit the ground. For the breath of a moment, her eyes met his right before they glossed over, the life draining out of her as she went completely limp. And in that moment, he saw only peace.
Sam fell to his knees in the water, holding her lifeless body as her hair swirled in the rising tide. A bird trilled again, clear and somehow triumphant. Sam lifted his head, watching as it soared into the sky and out over the water.
Chapter Forty-Five
Doctor Jeffrey Heathrow woke slowly, groggily. His eyes came open, and he blinked up at trees. The bare gray branches stretched toward him, and he had the strange thought that they looked like skeletal hands…reaching. His head pounded and his body ached. He groaned in pain as he attempted to sit up but fell back onto the prickly ground. Where am I? He attempted to orient himself, to remember how he’d gotten here in the cold woods.
Sam.
Sam’s face appeared in his memory, teeth bared, eyes wild. He’d destroyed his study. He’d thought he was going to kill him. But then something had come into Sam’s eyes, something the doctor could not discern. He’d appeared stunned and then…victorious. He’d backed away, turned, and left him there. Headed to Autumn Clancy no doubt. Good. He’d given the order that both of them be taken out. It would only make things more expedient if they were together. Regardless, the men sent to kill them would not fail. He could count on them.
With effort, the doctor pulled himself to a sitting position, bringing his hand to his throbbing head. He’d run upstairs, packed a bag. He’d thought it safer to head to his yacht, the one the program had purchased in a different name, until word came in that Sam and Autumn Clancy were dead. He’d headed for his car when…
He’d seen Morana in the reflection of his shiny Mercedes. He’d started to turn…
The doctor brought his hand to his scalp, feeling the large lump under his sparse hair. She’d hit him over the head.
The wind picked up, whipping sharply and causing him to shiver. He looked around, fear enveloping him now. It was her who had rendered him unconscious and somehow delivered him here. How long had he been unconscious? What the hell was going on?
He stood slowly, bracing himself against the trunk of a tree. The sky was dim. How long had he been out? He felt drugged. The doctor turned his arm over and then pushed his sweater up and peered down at the bruised needle prick. Yes, he’d been knocked over the head and then drugged. Anger mixed with fear.