Free The Progeny by Tosca Lee

toward me.
    A phone on the other end rings.
    I lift my eyes to Rolan, who is on the cusp of tearing the receiver from my hand. The ringing stops.
    A pause. And then:
    “Audra? Is that you?”

10
----
    I spin away from Rolan.
    At first, I can’t speak. After several seconds of silence, the accented voice—a man’s—says, “If you can hear me but can’t talk, cough.”
    “Who is this?” I say at last.
    “Audra!” Relief mixed with wonder. “I heard you died! I held on to this phone just in case—”
    “Who is this?” I ask again.
    A pause. “Audra. Are you all right?”
    “Yes. Please tell me who you are.”
    A slow, audible exhale on the other end. “My God. You did it, didn’t you?”
    “Please, who is this!” I can barely hear through the hammering in my temples.
    “It’s Ivan. Not that it will mean anything to you now. You did the right thing calling me.”
    The name conjures no image. Triggers no memory.
    “How do we know one another?” I ask. “Do you know where my family is? My adoptive parents? Any siblings? I need you to tell me how to find them! All of them.” My voice falters. I feel strangely fragile. Far too vulnerable.
    “Audra, are you sure you’re safe? I can’t tell you anything unless you’re safe.”
    I glance at Rolan, who slowly sits, gaze fastened on me.
    “Yes. I’m with a Watcher.”
    “A Watcher.”
    “Yes.”
    “You’re with someone claiming to be a Watcher.”
    “I need to warn my family. He can send someone to get them to a safe house. But I don’t know how to contact them or where they are. I don’t remember their names. And I can’t remember who I knew there, in Europe, but if they’re like me they’re in danger. Please.”
    The voice on the other end is speaking, but something else has snared my attention: Rolan’s jacket, gaping open as he leans forward on the sofa. The butt of a gun peers from his side.
    “Audra?”
    I quickly look away. “Yes.”
    The voice says, very low, “Is there someone with you? Clear your throat for yes.”
    I quietly clear my throat.
    A soft curse from the other end. “Listen to me very carefully. There is no such thing as a Watcher. Your adoptive parents died a few years ago. Anyone close to you knows that. Whoever you’re with, he’s testing you. Get out of there, Audra! If he thinks for a second that you know or remember anything of value, he’ll kill you for it.”
    I feel the color drain from my face, abruptly pace to the window, back to Rolan.
    “I see,” I say, my voice unsteady.
    “Say whatever you have to to get away and call me back at this number. I’ll hold on to it as long as I can.”
    The line clicks off.
    I stand with the phone to my ear a moment longer, try to collect myself.
    “Yes,” I say to the dead line. “Please ask him to call me. No, at this number. I’m sorry to bother you. Okay. Thank you.”
    I tap the phone off and exhale a shaky breath before turning around.
    Rolan looks expectantly at me. “Well?”
    “Well, he definitely thinks I’m off my nut,” I say.
    “Who?”
    I give a little shrug, mind racing. “This guy named Marko. He recognized my voice, though I guess he only knows me through his brother. He didn’t seem to know what I was talking about.”
    “What’s his brother’s name?” He’s staring intently at me now, eyes that should be fatigued crystal sharp.
    “He didn’t say. He just said his brother was at work and that he’d have him call me back at this number.”
    “Did he know anything about your parents?”
    “No. He barely knew me. Like I said, he probably thinks I’m crazy.” I hand him back his phone and hug my arms around myself.
    He hands me a glass of Diet Pepsi. “Where’d you get that number, anyway?”
    I take a sip and then a long pull, just now realizing how dry my mouth has gone.
    “I found it a few days ago. I couldn’t figure out what it was, so I memorized it. I thought it was too long to be an international number, but Croatia’s