Don't Look Now by Michelle Gagnon Page B

through her they’d stumbled across a cure for PEMA. She wasn’t so sure. And that, she admitted to herself, was really why she’d wanted to capture one of them: to find out once and for all what had been done to her, and if it could be reversed.
    So far, though, all the guy had revealed was a nasty line of drool.
    “You’re staring at me.”
    Noa blinked. He was eyeing her, wide-awake. “I’m on watch.”
    “Yeah, I got that.” He stretched his bound hands back and yawned. “Christ, this floor is uncomfortable. Gonna ruin my back.”
    “We leave tomorrow,” Noa said. “Your back will be fine.”
    “Pulling out, huh?” He grunted. “Smart. Don’t want to stay in one place too long, get comfortable. Gonna visit another lab?”
    “No,” Noa said flatly, her heart in her throat. Had he overheard them?
    He grinned and shook his head. “Man, I almost feel sorry for you kids.”
    “Yeah? Why’s that?”
    “Because you’re a bunch of amateurs,” he said dismissively.
    “We got you,” she pointed out.
    He rolled up to sitting, pushing off the floor with his bound hands. The zip ties were starting to dig into his wrists; there was dried blood where they’d chafed. Noa bit her lip, wondering if taking them off would be a bad idea. Noticing, he chuckled and said, “See?”
    “See what?”
    “Softhearted. You were just thinking about cutting my zip ties.” He winked at her. “And sweetheart, I don’t recommend it.”
    “I’ve got the Taser,” Noa said, holding it up.
    “Ooh, scary.” He rolled his head from side to side, then said conversationally, “You’ll never get away from them, you know.”
    “Yeah? Why not?”
    “Because they want you too badly. They’ve got money, resources, guys like me. . . .” His smile reminded Noa of a hyena—it looked like someone had jammed extra teeth in his mouth.
    “I still don’t know why they want me,” she mumbled, examining her hands.
    “Sure you do,” he scoffed. “They changed you. Don’t try to deny it.”
    “What do you know about it?”
    He shrugged. “I heard things.”
    “Yeah? Like what?”
    “Like you’re worth your weight in gold. Like when they find you, they’ll develop the best drug the world’s ever seen. I hear they might even be able to cure cancer with it.” He regarded her narrowly. “Funny, you don’t look so special. Kind of cute, but other than that you’re just like all the other trash we’ve been picking up.”
    “Go to hell,” Noa growled.
    “Oh, so you don’t want to hear everything after all? Like what’s going to happen when they find you?”
    “They won’t find me,” she said obstinately.
    “Sure they will. Hell, you’re making it easy for them. You could’ve just disappeared, changed your name. Gone to Canada or Mexico, maybe.” He eyed her. “But you got together this pitiful group of misfits and went after them. That was stupid.”
    “Someone had to stop them,” Noa said.
    “That’s what you’re not getting,” he said, leaning forward. Noa had to resist the urge to shy back. “You can’t stop them. You’re playing right into their hands. Making them look like the victims. And in the end, all of you are going to die because of it.”
    “Noa?”
    She turned to find Zeke framed in the doorway. Noa pushed to her feet, ignoring her stiff muscles, and went over to him.
    “That’s right, little birdie. Fly away,” the guy muttered.
    “What’s going on?” Zeke asked with concern, looking past her shoulder.
    “Nothing,” Noa said without meeting his eyes. She hated to admit it, but the guy had gotten under her skin. The way he’d talked about all of them dying, like it was inevitable . . . She tried to shake it off. “I took over the watch, since I can’t sleep anyway.”
    “You all right?” He put a hand under her chin and tilted her head up.
    Noa stepped back, and his hand fell away. “I’m fine.”
    “All right,” he said skeptically, his eyes still searching hers.