As we step into the downpour, a police car pulls up to the curb, lights flashing. A voice booms, “Freeze! ”

12:27

For a heartbeat all I can do is stare at the car, but then my reflexes kick in and I start running. We took too long with Dr. Walters. I should have been checking my watch more and not asked so many questions. I should have made sure we got out sooner.

The car isn’t far, parked in a lot next to the retirement home. But the police are already on foot, chasing after us. “Freeze!” they yell again.

We make it around the building, but then I hear Trent cry out behind me. I’m tempted to keep running, to leave him behind, but I turn around. One of the cops has hit him with a baton and brought him to his knees. While the second cop approaches, the first one smashes Trent with the baton again. He flattens against the wet cement, eyes bulging. He’s frozen stiff, unable to move. The baton must be electrified or something.

Cop number two pulls out a thin pair of handcuffs. Which means we’ve lost Trent—maybe forever if he can’t get back to the aperture in time. Unless we do something.

“Go!” I yell at the others. I leap on the first cop, surprising him, and rip the baton from his hand. I slam it into his helmet as hard as I can and shove him against the wall. He bounces off and then hits the ground, his armor smacking against the sidewalk.

He won’t be down for more than an instant, and the second cop is already reaching for his gun. They’re wearing full body armor, so I’m not sure where to hit them. I know this is probably a losing battle anyway. But it feels good to fight. It reminds me I’m still alive. I grip the baton tighter in my hand.

From the ground, Trent kicks at the second cop’s leg, distracting him. I spring forward, bringing the baton down on a spot between the cop’s shoulder and his arm, where the armor looks weaker, probably to allow for movement. He instantly jerks and falls to the ground.

The other cop is back on his feet and smashes into me before I can react. He slams me into the wall, pinning me with his heavy armor. My forehead bangs against the concrete, hard, and for a moment everything goes dark. Pain screams along my temple and into my skull.

Instinct starts to take over. I have to fight. I have to get away, no matter what the cost. I won’t be a victim ever again.

The cop grabs me, yanking my arms back. His big, gloved hands bite deep into my skin.

Big mistake.

Fear and anger, my oldest friends, explode inside me. A red haze clouds my eyes as I fight back against the cop. I yank my arms free and spin around. I kick. I punch. I bring the baton down, again and again and again.

“Elena, stop!” Arms wrap around my waist and pull me back. I struggle, ready to kill whoever is touching me now. But this touch doesn’t make me flinch. The familiar voice shouts my name again and breaks through my fury.

Adam.

I blink and my vision clears. Sweat and rain cling to my face and hair. Both cops are on the ground. Neither one move.

Oh my God, what have I done? I’ve killed them.

No, they’re both alive. I can see one breathing, and the other groans softly. I pray their armor has protected them from most of the damage.

Adam helps Trent to his feet, while the car pulls up beside us with Chris and Zoe in front. “Get in!” Zoe says.

We pile into the backseat. I pull my knees in close, cold and wet and horrified at what I’ve done. My arms tremble from the adrenaline still pulsing through me, and my hand hurts from gripping the baton so hard.

“Holy shit, Elena,” Chris says as we drive away.

“Just drive!” I hate that the others saw me like that. And more than that, I hate myself for hurting those cops. I only meant to get them off Trent so we could escape. But I lost control, my rage taking over, turning me into something I loathe. And Adam saw me do it.

I haven’t hurt anyone like that in years. I don’t want to be that person anymore. But what if Adam hadn’t stopped me? Would I have killed those cops? I saw the evidence at Future-Adam’s house, but a part of me still couldn’t believe I’d actually commit murder tomorrow.

Now I believe it.

I’ve tried to bury this part of myself for my entire life, but it’s in my DNA. This is who I am. A killer.




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