The Sunshine in My Veins (Peterick) ➳ Book 1

Sixteen

Maybe running away hadn't been Brendon's best idea. He was tired, cold, dirty, scared, alone. He wanted to be back with Ryan but every time he though of that his stomach was quick to form into a knot a clear reminder of the mess he left behind. Why had Ryan gotten so mad at what Brendon did? Wasn't Ryan supposed to enter the password anyway? Brendon could never come to a rationale when he though about it, so he tried to steer clear of the subject all together and do something useful. Like find food.

He had just removed a box of cereal from the shelf with the intentions on checking the date, but the front of a stunner was placed against his temple. "Name. Species."

"Brendon," he replied calmly. "And, uh, human."

The answer seemed to be good enough for the man and he lowered his weapon.

Abandoning the cereal, Brendon turned to see who the man was. Tall, dark, and handsome, the man easily towered over Brendon, making his feel significantly small. Even Ryan hadn't done that.

"And you are?"

"Dallon."

"Nice name," Brendon said with a wink. He glanced at the expiration date on the box, noting that it was still good, and ripped it open.

Dallon watched in amusement how Brendon went from flirty to hungry in seconds. "You alone?" he asked.

Brendon nodded and stuffed some more Cheerios into his mouth. "You?"

"No. You're welcome to join us."

And Brendon had decided that if he were to join another group it would be for a short period of time and he wouldn't get attached. But Dallon seemed safe enough for Brendon to trust so he swallowed the last bits of Cheerios and replied, "As long as your companion won't get mad."

"Oh. She doesn't have much of a choice. I kidnapped her in order to ensure that some conditions were met, and now I can't get rid of her."

"Is she human?"

"Of course. I'm not about to kidnap some alien scum. That's not my department."

Brendon's eyebrow raised.

"I'll explain later. Come meet Halsey."

*

This time the images weren't vanishing. The sound wasn't disappearing. The pain wasn't leaving. Everything Patrick had know about these attacks had suddenly been thrown out the window this time. Whoever was assaulting his mind had come to the conclusion that Patrick's answers of defiance were no longer an option.

"Are they human?" The voice taunting him asked.

"They" were in fact two clones of Joe, their eyes void of the joy that Patrick had come to remember. So in retrospect neither of them could be human. Neither of them could ever pass off as Joe.

"No," Patrick chocked out.

His body seized up as a new course of pain radiated down the length of his spine, leaving him almost immobilised in pain.

"Are they human?"

Patrick refused to answer. He'd given what they wanted and wasn't going to change his mind because they didn't like his answer. What was standing at the end of the hall wasn't Joe.

Eventually, the voice faded away, the noises slowly following.

Pete who had returned from a raid sometime during Patrick's silence lifted Patrick into his arms and put him in bed.

"Lunchbox," he called. "Talk to me, Lunchbox."

"I don't want to do this, Pete." He let out a shaky breath, sniffling a few seconds later.

"I know. I'm working on it."

"Just kill me, please."

Pete was shocked. "Never," he gasped. "Don't ask me to."

"Then leave me and let me do it."

"Patrick, I will never, ever let you do something like that to yourself. And don't you ever think about it again, you hear me? We're going to get through this. Okay?"

Hesitantly, Patrick nodded. "Okay."

With a smile, Pete leaned down and pressed a kiss to Patrick's lips. Faintly he noticed that the bottom one was swollen; Patrick must've been biting it in order to stay quiet.

Patrick's hands reached out and pulled Pete closer, causing Pete to straddle him or suffer from a sore back because the kiss didn't seem like it was going to end anytime soon. And Pete was right.

Their lips lazily moved together for awhile, Patrick slipping off to sleep mid-kiss. Pete smiled again and set about gathering up their supplies. They had agreed to leave a few days ago, but attacks on Patrick had made that impossible. But Pete could feel the shift in the air, and he knew time was running out. For what, even he wasn't quite sure.

*

Ryan was pissed. How didn't he see that coming? He had never been one to be outsmarted by someone and now here he was, the laughing stock of his own mind. Nobody else knew about it because there was nobody to tell.  He was left to pace the length of the room and concoct a plan.

He whipped out his cell phone, praying that the person on the other end would answer. Each ring left his heart sinking until his finger was hovering over the call end button.

"Hello," the voice lazily answered.

"It's not working. Nothing is!" Ryan exclaimed.

"Nothing?"

"That's what I said."

"Have you tried—"

"Short of killing everything, yes. I've done everything."

"Okay. Just calm down and let me think."

So Ryan waited. One minute passed and then another. A third flew by and the fourth followed. Ryan was just coming to the idea that maybe the other person had hung up when a sigh came from the other end.

"Try this," he began. "Wipe the entire thing and start from scratch."

"You mean rewire everything."

"More than that. Make it like it's a brand new chip and program it from there."

"Oh. I see. . . . That might work." Ryan took a set and began messing around on the screen. "I think this might be the answer."

"Great." Ryan could almost hear him smiling. "Let me know when you're done and we'll set on a testing day when we get to it."

Ryan didn't even have time to reply before the call went dead. Sighing, he hung up, only to dial a second number a moment later.