Free Standby (The Emile Reed Chronicles, 2.5) by Nicole Sobon Page B

stood near the ends of the tables, his hands cupped at his waist, and a smug smile spread upon his lips.
    “What do you want with us?” My mother pleaded. “Why can’t you just let us go?”
    McVeigh let out a frustrated sigh, dropping his hands to his sides. “You know why I cannot allow you to leave,” he’d told her. “We both know you have been made well aware of what takes place within these walls.”
    My mother lay silent, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes.
    “You are here today because of your daughter and her selfish tendencies.” McVeigh ran his finger along the edge of my mother’s table, slowly making his way towards the head of the table. “In order to assure she returns, I needed to take out a bit of insurance.”
    He’s showing you what he wants you to see , I reminded myself, don’t believe any of it .
    But that was the thing about becoming a Program, you fell victim to the machine; you gave life to McVeigh’s creations.
    And you lost yourself to your worst nightmare.

2 SURVIVAL
    I tried to fight the pull of the darkness as it wrapped itself around me, pulling me further and further away from the light. But it was useless.
    I was losing myself to the machine.
    Program Forty-Six activated , the robotic voice sounded inside of thoughts.
    Volts of energy surged throughout my body, and I wanted to scream out in pain as the burning sensation traveled at full speed with no clear end in sight, but I didn’t.
    Pain showed weakness , I reminded myself.
    And weakness should a loss of control.
    I was still here.
    I was still present beneath the machine, and I wasn’t going to give up.

3 THE GIRL
    Y ou can’t forget. The words kept replaying in my thoughts. They were words that held a significant meaning, one that I couldn’t recall.
    “Forty-Six,” a harsh voice called out. “Can you hear me, Forty-Six?”
    I knew that I should have answered. I knew that a response was expected of me. I could feel the words trying to escape, but they never made it past my lips. I was too lost in my thoughts. I’d been consumed by the images of a girl that kept replaying in my mind. Images of a girl; one that I knew I shouldn’t have known, but did.
    “His memories are stronger than hers,” a male voice called out. I felt my body jolt as a hand clamped down on my shoulder, forcing my eyes open. “How is that possible?”
    A petite woman stood before me, a small tablet held out in her hands. Her eyes looked over the screen briefly before looking back up at me. “ He is stronger than her, Harold. He has retained more of his human identity than Thirteen.”
    I leaned forward in the chair, the restraints binding my wrists – the only things keeping me from moving closer towards her. It was as though with each word she spoke, I felt myself being pulled towards her; as though she was in control of my every action – of me .
    “But if he’s stronger than her, that makes him dangerous. Shouldn’t we alert your brother, Mrs. Ward?” The old man who I had presumed to be Harold leaned against a metal desk, clutching his wire frame glasses tightly in his right hand.
    I could sense his nervousness across the room. I could hear his heart beating inside of his chest as anxiety overcame him. He was the complete opposite of Mrs. Ward.
    She remained calm, and collected, as she leaned down and released the straps binding my wrists. Fear did not radiate off of her like it had Harold. She was a blank state, someone that I was unable to read, and that was a rather terrifying thought.
    A clicking noise sounded from behind me, and was quickly followed by a tugging sensation near the small of my back. I tried to ease myself out of the chair, but my found myself unable to stand.
    “What’s wrong with him?” Harold asked. He took a step forward, careful to retain a safe distance between us.
    “His body is trying to adjust,” Mrs. Ward answered.
    “His body should’ve adjusted during the transformation. The programing