The Impossible Future: Complete set by Frank Kennedy (mini ebook reader .txt) 📕

Jamie saw an electronic file with a variety of information – including a photo – of someone named John Huggins. That someone was Jamie. Sammie did not explain how far his “second identity” went. He wondered whether she would have preferred that name over his third identity – his birth name, James Bouchet.

“It’s a good thing your cousin Samantha came along when she did,” Hedgecock said. “I wanted to show you this, so you know we trust you. It’s your case file from the Department of Children’s Affairs. Do you remember Leslie Bowden, your case officer?”

Jamie brushed aside his confusion and tried to respond to the question with the same slow, indecisive confusion he mastered in the van under Sammie’s watchful eye. He shrugged.

“Why am I in here, sir? You said you trust me now.”

“Yes, John, we do. But we still have more questions.” Hedgecock took a seat and asked ‘John’ to do the same, but Jamie refused. “I realize the past few hours have been difficult for you, but we think you might be able to help us in our investigation. Your aunt and uncle were very kind in caring for you all these years. I’m sure this is difficult to take in.”

Jamie never heard the Hugginses referred to that way.

He shrugged. “Can I see Sammie now?”

“John, we have questions about your aunt and uncle’s activities.”

Jamie didn’t like the way this was going. “I don’t wanna talk about them. I wanna go.”

“You and Samantha have no other adult relations, as far we can tell. Since you are minors, you’ll have to go with DCA until they can find a suitable new home. First, I need to clear up some confusion we’re having.”

Jamie felt a familiar, icy tug. Lydia whispered into his ear.

“This has to end, my sweet boy.”

He tried to ignore her, focusing instead on Hedgecock.

“The sheriff in Albion is investigating the fire that burned down your home last night. He claims to know the Hugginses, but he isn’t familiar with a young cousin living in their home. We’re sending him your case file now. Perhaps your photo will jog his memory. Can you explain why he didn’t know you? Albion is a very small town, John.”

A wave of panic rolled over Jamie. Apparently, the Chancellors couldn’t plan for every contingency. He grabbed the edge of the table and rubbed his hands against the thick, dark wood. He looked for clues in the agent’s eyes, but Hedgecock seemed neither threatening nor friendly – the poker face Jamie never mastered.

“This is a trap,” Lydia whispered. “I have observed humans for too long. This man is after something. If you give him the wrong answer, he will never let you go.”

“Shut up,” Jamie blurted. The agent was taken aback.

“John, please. I’m not your enemy. Samantha already told us you stayed indoors most of the time because your aunt was concerned you might hurt yourself outside. Is that why the sheriff doesn’t remember you?”

“Sure. I reckon. Can I see Sammie now? Please?”

Jamie tightened, the impatience heating his blood. Lydia stood behind Agent Hedgecock, her arms crossed over her chest and lips turned down. Hedgecock again asked ‘John’ to sit, but Jamie refused. He wanted to dash for the door even though he knew it was locked. He tried not to look at Lydia, and he refused to believe the Jewel was controlling his will.

“You cannot stay,” Lydia said. “He is an obstacle.”

“John, I think you know more about your aunt and uncle than you realize. If we could sit for a while and talk …”

“Give him one wrong answer, Jamie, and you will die here. It will be a disaster for them all. You have already been told what will happen. No talk. Action, my boy.”

Jamie tightened his grip on the table corners. He felt as if the wood was about to cut open his hand. The pain turned into rage. Shadows crept into the room, and the gray fluorescence from the ceiling now dimmed.

Jamie caught a glimpse of Lydia trying to smile. Agent Hedgecock rose from his chair and started toward Jamie, who saw the butt of a gun holstered behind the agent’s jacket.

Time stopped.

He saw the Jewel pushing him. Self-preservation program, Lydia called it. Jamie felt the new skin eating away the last of his old, and somehow he knew: He was going to kill an FBI agent.

52

S AMMIE NEVER FORGOT what her parents taught her about grief. They said tears lost for departed flesh were a waste of the living.

Sammie tried her best to follow their guide, keeping her emotions in balance as she looked for ways to secure Michael’s safety and find a miracle cure for Jamie. She tried to manipulate as best she could during the initial interviews in the van on the way to Austin Springs. She stayed close to Jamie, proud of the way he played along with her cover story. She knew the ruse of John Huggins would be destroyed as soon as the FBI circulated Jamie’s picture in Albion, but she figured that would be enough time to give her one last chance at saving Jamie – even if he didn’t believe saving was possible.

Her mind searched for answers in feverish chaos as they entered town, but her frustration mounted as they were led from the van. Sammie looked up and down the familiar street of this bright white, early 20th-century town as they headed to the front glass doors. She spent many summer afternoons in Austin Springs with her mother and always found it to be a fun town in an odd sort of way. It was always overrun by tourists – an eclectic blend of the blue-hair set and aging artists – but Sammie loved the garish pots