I am truly confused and his clutter of words is knocking me off my game. I have no fucking idea what Adam is getting at. This is not good because I’m playing like seventeen games in my head at the moment—all those balls in the air, all those secrets flying around, tryin’ their best to surface—and this bizarre conversation will not be what ruins the tail end of an eight-year plan.
“Well? Are you gonna tell me?”
“What do you do again?”
I decide I’m just gonna give him what he wants. He already knows. I’m sure Nathan has told him everything. “I kill Zero girls. Is that the information you’re fishing for? Because Indie’s not on the list and neither is her daughter.”
“My daughter,” Adam says. And everything about his tone has changed. “She’s my daughter too.”
“I thought—”
“Not biological, you idiot. But that girl is mine. Same way Wendy is yours, I guess.”
“Not the same, but—”
“Anyway,” Adam cuts me off. “No, sir. That was not the information I was fishing for. But it’s a start, at least.”
“Shouldn’t we just concentrate on Donavan?”
“Oh”—Adam looks over his shoulder at the house—“don’t you worry about Donovan. I’m sure McKay and Merc are working the details out as we speak.”
And then something hits me. A sudden realization. A full illumination of what he just did.
He separated us and I didn’t even realize it. Indie took Wendy to debrief her. And McKay took Merc and Sasha to debrief them.
“This is about me,” I say.
“You sound so surprised.”
“What the fuck? Is Donovan even alive?”
“Oh, everything you heard about Donovan is true. And I do appreciate your help in that regard, but that’s not really why you’re here, is it, Nick? Why don’t we cut out the bullshit and get to the point? Why. Are you here?”
Why am I here?
He wants to know why I’m here?
I’m here because eight years ago I found a book in the back of my truck, a book that was filled with desperate hopelessness, and I decided then and there that I would not allow this girl to grow up just so she could die.
I was going to fix her.
I was going to cure her.
I went to Chek first. I told him what I wanted to do. I showed him the book. But Chek wasn’t interested. His line of thinking was… if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
But Wendy was broke. She had been shattered long before Chek saved her. And it was just a matter of time before there were so many cracks, we wouldn’t be able to put her back together again.
Every good little Zero girl needs a handler.
That’s Chek. That’s Adam.
But if you want them to grow up sane, they need more than just a man to keep them in line.
They need a McKay.
They need a Donovan.
I was Wendy’s McKay.
I was Wendy’s Donovan.
And seventeen days after Chek died, on Wendy Gale’s seventeenth birthday, I knew she was at her breaking point. She was not gonna come back from what happened to Chek.
No. If I’m only talking in my head, then I should at least be honest with myself.
Wendy was not gonna come back from the realization that she was the one who killed Chek that day Cabal Island was going down.
She killed him.
She didn’t arrive at the cabin on her seventeenth birthday alone. She was with me.
So I did what I had to do.
I went into her head.
I twisted it all up, wrung it all out, and then smoothed it all over.
Her. Cure.
I am the cure.
Because Merc isn’t the last functioning Company-trained PSYOPS agent left in the world.
He’s not even Company, but even if he were, he is no me.
I’m am the last fully-sanctioned, fully-trained Company PSYOPS left in this world.
Me.
And Wendy Gale really is sweet, beautiful, perfect, and whole. She is everlasting, transcendent, exceptional, and extraordinary. She is remarkable, exquisite, priceless, and sublime. She is flawless, marvelous, divine, and sensational. She is heavenly, powerful, glorious, and delightful.
She is lovely.
She is majestic.
She is gorgeous.
And she is… miserable.
She is a piece of gorgeous misery and I cannot bear it.
“Not gonna answer me?”
I snap back to the present and find Adam waiting on an answer.
“That’s fine,” Adam says. “I already know why you’re here.”
“Look.” I huff. “I did my best, OK? She killed him, Adam. She was the one who killed him. And no one knew what to do with her. No one but me. Me, Adam. Me. So they let her go. They let her just get in that fucking truck and drive. And do you know where I found her?” I feel like I might cry. So I pause and take a deep breath, then swallow hard and continue. “She left a message for me on the board. It was just one message. And I was eleven hours late in seeing it because I wasn’t thinking clearly. I didn’t look. I should’ve, I get that. But I didn’t. And I can’t change it. I found her at my house, Adam. Standing in my sunflower field. She was a mess. A fuckin’ mess. She knew she killed him, but there was a war going on in her mind. She was crazy. You have to understand, right? You know what it’s like. Haven’t you ever found Indie like this? So yeah, I did it. I went inside her head and rearranged things and—”
“Hold. The fuck. On.” Adam holds up his hand and just stares at me. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“What?”
“What are you talking about? Are you telling me that you… what? PSYOPed Wendy?”
“What?”
“Is that what you just said?”
“You said you already knew why I was here.”
“I thought you were here...” It takes him a moment, but then he lets out a long breath and closes his eyes. “You’re here for Carter.”
I snap out of my crazed and desperate rant and focus. “Wait. Why did you think I was here?”
“Because you’re my missing dead brother, dude.”
“What?”
There is a long silence as each of us takes our time coming to terms with what the other just said. And then, before we can discuss it further, everyone is back.
Wendy appears with Indie and Maggie, the three of them laughing like normal girls.
Merc and Sasha appear with McKay, also looking settled and, if not happy, at the very least at ease.
Even Nathan appears. He jokes around with Wendy like this is just some planned family reunion.
Adam and I just stand there, facing each other.
So many questions running through our minds.
And then, because we are who we are, we say nothing.
GET THE LAST BOOK NOW
Sometimes I wish it was just him and me.
Sometimes I wish there never was an Indie or a Donovan. That McKay and I just ran away together when we were young. Sailed around the world. Climbed mountains. Learned to parachute. Did whatever we wanted and never thought about this place, or the Company and our place in it, ever again.
Sometimes I wish we were broke, and uncomfortable, and stressed out about things like rent, and food, and bald tires.