Don't Turn Around (26 page)

“Maybe he had a really good reason,” Peter pointed out. “I found this, too.” He clicked through to a different screen that displayed an image of a lovely young girl. She was blond, wan, about their age. The photo would have looked right at home on the cover of a magazine. The headline below it read,
Elinor Pike Stricken with PEMA
. “Charles Pike’s kid is sick. And look what else I found.”

Peter hit a few keys, and a video filled the screen. It featured a tall, broad-shouldered white guy in his midfifties. Charles Pike’s hair was gray but his eyebrows remained black. He had strong features, a slightly prominent chin, blue eyes. Pike looked confident and sure of himself: clearly a man accustomed to getting his way. He stood behind a podium, in front of a large banner that read,
The Pike Center for PEMA Research
. Peter hit another key, and Pike’s voice spilled out of the speakers. “… a blight on our times, the potential loss of an entire generation isn’t something I’ll countenance. Which is why I’m asking all of you to join me in donating generously, in hopes of finding a cure for PEMA.”

Peter tapped another button and the man fell silent. He waved a hand at the screen. “He goes on like this for a while.”

The video kept running, and Noa stared at it. Charles Pike looked so … normal. Impassioned, but ordinary. Yet he might be the one ultimately responsible for what had happened to her. At the thought, a chill ran down her spine.

“I’d heard that his daughter had PEMA. But still …” Cody rubbed a hand across his face. “I don’t know, this whole thing just keeps getting crazier.”

“You said they aren’t close to finding a cure,” Peter said. “And Pike’s daughter has been sick for nearly a year now. She probably doesn’t have much time left. He might have gotten desperate.”

“The files date back more than a year,” Noa said in a low voice.

“What?” Cody asked.

“I said, they’ve been doing this for longer than that.” She couldn’t take her eyes off the photo of the girl. She recognized something in her eyes, a haunted quality. “The testing started before she got sick.”

“There’s a lot of money to be made here,” Cody acknowledged. “If a company could find a cure, or even a vaccine, well … it would be worth a fortune.”

“That explains why Bob’s involved,” Peter said bitterly.

“Maybe he’s trying to spare other parents the pain of what they went though,” Cody said gently. “He and your mom probably don’t have any idea about the experiments P and D were conducting.”

“Sure. They probably thought Mason and his thugs were some sort of candy stripers,” Peter retorted.

Cody shook his head. “I know it’s tough, Peter. But we should give them the benefit of the doubt.”

“Do what you want, but I’ll keep doubting them,” Peter said. “So what now?”

They all fell silent.

“You’ve got all the data related to Project Persephone, right?” Cody asked.

“Yup. They probably have copies, though.”

“They don’t,” Noa said.

“How do you know that?” Peter’s eyes narrowed.

Noa backpedaled, saying, “I mean, even if they do, they can’t get to them right now.”

“That would explain why they keep coming after you,” Cody acknowledged.

“I’m the key.” Noa suddenly understood what A6M0 had meant.

Cody and Peter were both looking at her oddly.

“The key?” Peter asked. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Noa said. “Just … we should probably find out for sure what they did to me, right? Since they keep coming after me, I must have something important that they need.”

“Maybe,” Peter said, eyeing her. “Or maybe they’re just worried you’ll tell someone what happened.”

“Who would believe me?” Noa pointed out. “I’m a foster kid who’s done time in juvie. You think anyone would listen if I said that Charles Pike hired people to kidnap and experiment on me?”

“No, I guess they wouldn’t,” Peter acknowledged. “So why do they care so much?”

They all fell silent for a minute. Finally, Cody cleared his throat and said, “I can take you to get that X-ray now.” He glanced at his watch. “He said any time after noon would work fine.”

“Great, let’s go.” Noa crossed the room and grabbed her jacket, then started to gather up her laptop.

“Oh, are you taking that? ’Cause I thought I’d stay here and keep working on stuff,” Peter said apologetically. “Now that I know what to look for, I thought I’d track down some of Pike and Dolan’s real-estate holdings. You know, places where they might be keeping … others. Like you.”

“I need to take it with me,” Noa said.

“Seriously? I mean, it’s not like—”

“It stays with me,” she said sharply.

“Jeez, relax. I was just—”

“Why don’t you come along, Peter?” Cody interceded. “I’m sure Jack has a wireless connection you can piggyback on.”

“I thought the whole point was to keep a low profile,” Peter grumbled.

Noa glared at him, and he raised both hands in surrender. “Fine. I’ll get my jacket. But it’ll just take longer this way.”

The table was about two feet too short for her, so Noa’s lower legs hung off the edge at an uncomfortable angle. The room reeked of sickly-sweet disinfectant mixed with animal piss and wet fur. A shelf on the far wall held medicine jars labeled
DOGGY TREATS, KITTY TREATS,
and
REPTILE TREATS.

She swallowed hard. Above her, the beige camera gazed down blankly like a giant, malevolent eye. Cody’s high-school buddy, Jack, finished draping a heavy lead sheet over her lower body.

“Sorry about the table length,” he said. “It’s really not built for people.”

“That’s okay.” Noa forced a smile.

Cody was standing in the far corner, facing the monitor that the images would appear on. Peter was in the waiting room outside. She wondered how much Cody had told his friend Jack. The vet seemed only mildly perturbed by the fact that a person was using his X-ray equipment. This had to be an unusual occurrence for him, though.

“Ready?” he asked.

Noa nodded.

The machine clicked a few times.

“Okay.” Jack stepped forward and pulled off the lead shield.

“That’s it?” Noa asked.

“Yup. All digital now,” the vet said cheerfully. “So we get the results instantly. You can go look, if you want.” He turned to Cody. “I got a retriever coming in that was hit by a car. You okay to see yourselves out?”

“Yeah, man. Thanks again.”

“No problem.” Jack smiled, turning to Noa. “Nice meeting you. Come on back if you need deworming.”

He left the room, chuckling at his own little joke.

Cody’s smile faded the instant the door closed. He bent over, examining the screen. Noa hesitated, then slid off the table and went to stand beside him. The monitor displayed an enlarged black-and-white image. Pale white ribs stood out in sharp relief, like slender fingers. Under and around them, she could discern a bunch of lumpy-looking masses.

“So?” Noa finally asked, after a minute had passed without him saying anything.

Cody didn’t meet her eyes. “We were right.” He pointed. “This is your heart, here. And beside it, this smaller one is probably your original thymus. Next to that, well … this shouldn’t be here.”

Noa eyed the mass. It was almost as large as her heart. “What does the thymus do, anyway?”

“I talked to a buddy today who’s specializing in endocrinology,” Cody said. “Basically, your thymus gland produces and educates T lymphocytes.”

Noa looked at him blankly. “Was that English?”

He laughed. “Sorry. Do you know how the immune system works?”

“Kind of.” Noa shrugged. “It keeps you from getting sick, right?”

“Exactly,” Cody said, warming to the topic. “And specific types of cells combat disease. But those cells don’t start out knowing how to do that. When you’re first born, the thymus provides kind of a boot camp for immune cells. It trains them to become T cells, which are the white blood cells that fight infection. By the time you hit puberty, all those cells know their business, so the thymus shuts down.”

“So what would giving me an extra thymus do?” Noa asked.

“I did a little research today during my break, and there have been a few studies,” Cody said. “Remember those mice I told you about, the ones that are born with an extra thymus?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, in their case, both thymuses shut down at the same time. So the second one was just superfluous. But one researcher theorized that if you managed to keep at least one activated, you might be able to use it to develop newer, stronger T cells. Maybe even ones that could be trained to fight specific diseases.”

“Like PEMA,” Noa said slowly, following his line of reasoning.

“Exactly.”

“So now do we test my blood?” Noa said.

“If you want,” Cody said. “I realized this morning that I hadn’t asked, I just assumed you’d want to know. It’s fine if you don’t, though.” He gazed at her with a look of concern.

“I want to know,” she said decisively, holding out her arm. “Let’s get it over with.”

Cody pulled out a small kit. She turned her head away as he rubbed the inside of her elbow with an alcohol pad. He was good; she barely felt the needle as it pierced her skin. Watching her blood pump into the vial, Noa asked, “Do you think it’ll be positive?”

“No idea,” he said. “How about we cross that bridge when we come to it?” Cody’s hand was warm on her arm as he pressed a piece of gauze down, then taped a Band-Aid over it. “Done.”

“Thanks. When will you know?”

“By this evening. It’s a quick test,” he said. “I’ll slip it in with another patient’s blood work.”

“Could you get in trouble for that?”

“I’ll be careful,” Cody said casually.

Noa got the sense that he was taking a far greater risk than he let on. “Why are you doing this?” she asked warily.

“I told you. Pedro’s like a brother to me,” he responded without meeting her eyes.

“Yeah, but still. You’ll get in a lot of trouble if you get caught, right?”

Cody made a noise in his throat that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Yeah, I sure will.”

“So why?” Noa asked again.

He looked up, meeting her eyes. “You ever been in love?”

“What?” Noa said, taken aback. Recovering, she slowly shook her head. “No.” Something dawned on her, and she said with disbelief, “You’re in love with Peter?”

At that, Cody laughed openly. “No. I mean, I love the kid, just not like that. But …” His eyes seemed to look through her then. “I loved exactly one person my whole life,” he continued in a voice so low she could barely hear him. “And then that person died. But I promised I’d take care of his brother.” His eyes shifted back and focused on hers intently again.

“Oh.” Noa cleared her throat and said, “I won’t tell Peter.”

His gaze softened and he squeezed her knee. “I know. That’s why I trusted you with it.”

They sat in silence for a minute. Noa couldn’t repress the feeling that there was someone else in the room with them. It didn’t frighten her, though. It was oddly comforting, like there really were guardian angels out there.
After all,
she thought to herself,
Peter is standing right here
.

Finally, Cody glanced at his watch and said, “We should get out of here. Can’t leave Peter alone out there for too long; he’s always been a sucker for puppies.”

Cody tucked the vial of blood into his jacket pocket and they left the room in silence.

In the waiting room, Peter was hunched over her laptop. An overweight woman in her forties clutched a cat carrier as she stared openly at him. Noa couldn’t really blame her. Peter looked nuts.

“Finally!” he exclaimed, seeing them. He fumbled the laptop back into Noa’s messenger bag. “Man, you are not going to believe—”

“Let’s talk about it outside,” Cody said.

They pushed back out to the street. The animal hospital was located a few blocks from Boston Medical Center’s main lab, where Cody planned to drop off the blood work.

“So what’d you find?” Noa asked.

“You first,” Peter said. “How was the X-ray?”

Noa fixed him with a steely glare. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Cody give a little headshake. Peter caught it and his eyes darkened. He cleared his throat and said, “All right, I’ll go first. I found a few possibilities. They’re all big warehouse complexes, like the one in South Boston. Supposedly Pike and Dolan are storing products there, but I couldn’t find any shipping manifests related to them.”

“Shipping manifests?” Noa asked, puzzled.

“Smart, Pedro,” Cody said admiringly. “If P and D was using those warehouses to store products before shipping them, there would be a steady stream of trucks and cargo containers in and out. And each of those shipments would have to be tracked.”

“Exactly,” Peter said. “And there was nothing like that. So I’m thinking they might be using them for more labs.”

The prospect gave Noa a chill. “How many did you find?”

“So far? Three.” Peter’s voice turned somber as he continued, “And one is just across the state line, in Rhode Island. About an hour away. Two days ago a truckload of stuff listed as miscellaneous was shipped there. That was the first delivery they’ve had in a long time. So I’m thinking that might be where they moved the operation. After, well, you know …”

His voice trailed off.
After you got away,
Noa filled in. She thought of the other buildings she’d passed during the escape. At the time, part of her had sensed that there were other kids there, trapped inside. But she kept running. There was nothing else she could have done, she reminded herself. But now, maybe, there was. “We have to get them out.”

“One thing at a time,” Cody cautioned. “After my shift, we can meet back at my place to discuss options.”

“Yeah, but—”

“You can’t go there on your own. There were armed men at that warehouse, right?” Cody raised an eyebrow. “It was hard enough for you to get away from them before. I think it’s time we bring in the cops.”

“And tell them what?” Peter demanded. “There isn’t enough here to get a search warrant. My mom’s a lawyer, remember? She’d have a field day with something like that.”

“Peter’s right.” Noa jutted out her chin. “We need more proof. So far we don’t have anything directly linking Pike and Dolan to this. Plus, I don’t like cops. They show up, I’m out of here.”