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where the clearing I was headed for was. The phone’s GPS might help, but I needed all my concentration for dodging trees.

When the foliage began to thin, I knew I was getting close. Ignoring the part of me that wanted to change course, I plunged forward. A few minutes later, a clearing came into view, somewhat overgrown now, but still recognizable as the former site of the genetics laboratory.

I hesitated at the edge of the clearing, then went in. It was big enough that I could easily maneuver around Dan. I could keep him chasing me until he tired, or the hoverboard’s battery lost its charge, or—I forced myself to finish the thought—I figured out a way to stop him more permanently.

Grass grew around the edges of the gaping hole in the middle of the clearing. From my viewpoint, I could see into its depths. It was a fifteen-foot drop to rubble of charred wood and concrete and shattered glass. A bomb had destroyed the laboratory. I remembered the choking, acrid smoke and leaping flames. Shaking limbs. The weight of a borrowed jacket. Grimacing, I looked away and pushed the hoverboard forward.

I managed to slide around the pit to the other side of the clearing before Dan came out of the trees. Was he breathing more heavily? Maybe his lungs couldn’t keep up with his body—that would be useful. I might actually have a chance.

“I’ve been here before,” I called. “You won’t be able to catch me, I know these woods too well.” That was a lie, but he wouldn’t know that. “This is where my biological parents had a laboratory. That’s something the newsfeed didn’t tell anyone. I’m adopted. I wasn’t born, I was made in a lab, like you.”

Dan said nothing, just watched me, standing on the other side of the pit. His chest did seem to be heaving slightly—perhaps he was more out of breath than he wanted to show.

I kept talking. “You think—or thought—your implants came from an accident, but they didn’t. Mine did. And it wasn’t just my legs—I have one in my head, too, that controls all my motor functions. They weren’t sure I would ever be able to walk again after the accident.” I pushed back, the hoverboard gliding away as Dan took a few steps forward.

“It took years of therapy before I could walk on my own. When I could finally run, it became everything to me. A permanent reminder that I was free to do whatever I wanted. No more wheelchair, no more crutches. No more pity.”

Dan took another step, then came to a stop. Sweat glistened on his forehead.

My voice shook, but I continued to speak. “When my implants started to fail, I freaked out. All my friends turned their backs on me, because they thought I had chosen to be augmented. But it wasn’t my fault. My biological parents did that to me, before I was even born.”

He continued to stand still, his gaze locked with mine. I took a deep breath. “When I found them here, they were trying to make a cure for the augmentations. But it wasn’t because they were kind. They just wanted to run more experiments on me, and they couldn’t do that if I died.”

I edged around the pit a little toward him, still keeping distance between us. “It isn’t your fault you were made the way you are. You didn’t choose to be built or programmed any more than I chose to be genetically engineered. But that doesn’t define who we are. I know you’re still in there, Dan, behind whatever horrible programming that rogue AI did to you. You stopped yourself from hurting me on the track, and you don’t want to hurt me now. You need to fight it.”

I could see the strain in his face, and his stance; he held himself stiffly, body shaking and fists tight against his sides.

“Viki, you need to run,” he gasped out. “I can’t… Its voice is too strong. I’m sorry.” He fell to his knees, clutching his head. “Please, run.”

“I’m not running.” I moved until there were only a few yards between us, ready to push back and retreat if need be, but hoping, hoping it wouldn’t be necessary. “You’re my friend, Dan. I know you don’t want to hurt me. You don’t want to hurt anyone. So, please, don’t let it make you do that.”

He groaned, body shaking more violently. Then he lunged at me.

I had been half-expecting it and dodged to the side. Unfortunately, I forgot how close I was to the pit.

The hoverboard was meant to keep itself off the ground a few inches, no more than a foot. It cut off, plummeting into the pit. I screamed, flinging my hands toward the edge. My fingers grasped only crumbly dirt.

Strong hands wrapped around my wrists, and I looked up in surprise to find Dan holding me tight. His face was stern, jaw clenched, but he leaned back, pulling me up out of the pit with inhuman strength. I tumbled to the ground on top of him, winded and shaken by my close brush with danger. Somewhere in the distance, I heard the hoverboard clatter to the ground. James is going to be so mad.

Arms wrapped around me, and I started to pull away, terrified that Dan had rescued me only to complete his mission, but his hold was gentle, and he sat up, clutching me to his chest.

“Viki, are you okay?” The strain that had been in his voice was gone, but I didn’t, couldn’t, let myself believe that Talbot’s hold had been broken.

“I’m fine,” I whispered. “What about you?”

“I can’t hear its voice anymore.” Dan’s arms tightened around me for a second, then loosened. “When I saw you fall, all I could think about was saving you. The voice just vanished.”

I closed my eyes, the

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