Page 31 of Apolonia

I shook my head, and he squeezed my hands, concern in his eyes. “She’s wonderful, Rory. You would love her as everyone else does. You remind me so much of her.”

I felt sick. “I remind you of her?” Was this why we were drawn to each other?

After a brief look of confusion, Cy’s eyes lit up with recognition. “In some ways, yes. In others, you’re so different. You make me feel things that I’ve never…but none of that matters. I care for you very deeply as a friend, Rory. Sometimes, I feel that’s incorrect, that I feel more than that, but that’s wrong. I didn’t know it was possible to care for someone like this who wasn’t my betrothed. I love you, Rory, as a friend, very much. Too much.” He reached for me, but I pulled away. “I want all good things for you. I want you to be happy. I want you to heal.”

Those words caught in my ears and made me pause. Enough already. If he was really leaving, it was time he told the truth. “You’re talking about what happened to my parents, aren’t you? How do you know so much about me?”

Cy froze with the same caught look he had when I rounded the corner at the warehouse party and saw him threatening Kevin. “It wouldn’t help any of us if I told you.”

My eyes narrowed, full of accusation. “Us? Did Dr. Z tell you?”

“No.”

“How? How do you know these things about me?” I demanded. My voice echoed through the empty building.

Cy reached out for me. “You were spending time with the specimen. I took it upon myself to learn everything about your background. It was important for me to know who you were. If you could be trusted.”

“Since when does someone get a background check to be around a rock? What are you not telling me, Cy? Because you know far more about me than you should. I’ve been patient, but if you’re really going to leave here and never come back, you owe me the truth. What do you know about that night?”

“I’ve told you more than I should. The things I haven’t are the things I’m not allowed to share.”

“Who are you?”

Cy puffed out a breath of frustration.

“You’re really not going to tell me, are you? After everything, you’re just going to take off and leave me hanging.”

He didn’t answer.

“I know there is something more to you being here. I can feel it.”

He watched me, and although it was clearly difficult, he remained silent.

I nodded. “Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials,” I said, walking to my desk. I picked my backpack off the floor.

“Rory…you are the bravest being I know. I’m not sure I could have survived something like that, physically or mentally. I’ve seen a lot of things. War. Death. But to watch such brutality waged against your loved ones and to suffer in that way is—”

“Stop talking.”

I walked around the desk, and for the second time that night, I pushed through the double doors. My entire body felt as if it were moving in slow motion as I shuffled down the dark tiled hallway of the basement to the stairs. A chime signaled the elevator’s arrival, and its door opened. It was empty and well lit, welcoming me in, but I just stood there, staring at it.

“You’re brave, Rory. Just go in. No one is in there,” I said aloud. But my body wouldn’t move.

The elevator rumbled and jerked as it climbed the shaft without me and then slowed to a halt at the top.

I climbed the stairs two at a time and exited into the main lobby of the Fitz just as the elevator arrived, and then I turned right, making my way to the north entrance. It was a bit out of the way, but Cy would leave with the specimen tonight, and it would be prudent to leave inconspicuously.

As I pressed the door open, I noticed that the familiar jingle of my keys clanging against each other was missing. I arched my neck, glancing back, and when I didn’t immediately see them, I straightened my arms, letting my backpack fall from my shoulders. I flipped it around to check the zipper where they normally hung and then patted my jeans in a panic.

“Shit!” I said, checking my front and back pockets one more time before ripping my bag open to search inside. What did I do with them?

I yanked my bag from the floor and rushed to the stairs. The elevator dinged as I passed, but I ignored it. After a few seconds, the cables squealed, and the elevator lurched and rumbled as it climbed again. The moment I took the first step down, the few lights that illuminated the lobby went dark, and the elevator went silent, coming to a stop between floors. Something invisible, in my mind, had kept me out of elevators for over two years. If it weren’t for my maddening aversion, I could have been stuck in there.

I continued to descend the stairs in the dark, wondering if Cy had found a flashlight.

“Damn,” I whispered, checking my pocket. My cell phone had a flashlight built in. I clicked on the button, and it lit my way. Halfway down, I stopped. A faint sound echoed upstairs. My eyes closed, and I waited, searching the darkness with my ears. A door creaked open, and although it was barely audible, I was almost sure it was the side entrance door. Feet, many feet, shuffled quietly down the hall. I couldn’t fathom who would be in the building this late at night but myself, Cyrus, and possibly Dr. Z, but something told me I didn’t want to be caught by whoever it was.

The group was almost at the stairs. Without my keys, I couldn’t get into the lab, and there wasn’t time to knock on the door and wait for Cy to let me in. I ran across the hall to the lab next to ours, knowing it would be unlocked.

There was a large Plexiglas window separating the unlocked lab from Dr. Zorba’s. Cy was standing at my desk, scrolling the mouse with one hand and making notes with the other. A few lights were on in the lab. He was using backup power.

I tapped on the window, and Cyrus jumped. He offered a sheepish grin, obviously still embarrassed by our good-bye.

I pointed to the door, trying to warn him of the possible company coming down the stairwell. His eyebrows pushed together, and then he cocked his head, listening. His eyes grew large, and then he waved his hands frantically, signaling for me to hide. I shook my head, suddenly nervous. He was serious.

The heavy metal door of Dr. Z’s lab blew open, and a dozen or more men dressed in black and armed with semiautomatic rifles flowed into the room. I slid to the floor and pressed my back against the wall. Alone, in the dark, I wasn’t sure if I should stay hidden or make a scene. I could hear Cy demanding to know who they were and why they were in the lab. The men were yelling at him, too, insisting Cy step out from behind his desk with his hands in the air.


Tags: Jamie McGuire Science Fiction