Collide by Christine Fonseca Read Free Book Online

difficult under the best of circumstances.
    And this was hardly the best situation.
    The Architect glanced in her mirror, noting the evidence of age and stress that had crept over her skin and hair these past ten years. She didn’t like this mission, didn’t want to be the one responsible for more deaths. But she had no choice—their lives, or hers.
    She grabbed the picture tucked in the mirror’s plastic visor, staring at five-year-old version of Mari as blocks floated around her head. They’d called each other friend then. They had been close. Before the episode that changed everything; before the Architect chose life over friendship.
    The Architect threw the car into Park and considered the small house. Nothing about the two-story colonial with blue shutters stood out. It resembled every other house in the quiet subdivision, each with its manicured yard and cookie cutter architecture. Nondescript. Expected.
    A light drew her attention upstairs. She followed the girl’s shadow moving across blind-covered windows. Within a few moments the movements stopped.
    “Nothing to do but wait. Make sure.” Her voice held a hint of all-too-familiar concern. She scrutinized the picture once more, settling on the slight scar extending from Mari’s nose to her lip. The Architect remembered the origins of the mark: the fight with other recruits days before the end, the glass that broke across Mari’s lip during a fit of rage and jealousy, the crimson blood that suddenly made the experiments, the dangers, too real.
    Moments stretched as the Architect wrestled with her memories. She gripped the wheel, tapping out her annoyance. Make a decision , she said to herself. Decide! She laid a finger to her temple and centered her thoughts. Her eyes instinctively rolled back as the lids closed.
    Darkness eclipsed her sight for a heartbeat, replaced by four brightly colored walls that slowly blurred into view. A white bed was placed in one corner, flanked by a white desk with a computer. She glanced around the room, noting every detail and comparing them to her memories.
    Clothes littered the floor—just like before.
    Makeup tossed carelessly about the room—no organization, no order.
    Posters of bands she’d never heard of covered the walls. On the bed, the girl lay on her side, phone in hand.
    Mari.
    The Architect moved closer. The girl turned, her gaze looking through the Architect. She stopped and sucked in a sharp breath. The girl pinched her brow, boring into the blank spaces in front of her. The Architect knew the girl sensed her. She stared at the girl’s face. Same translucent skin and green eyes. Same high cheek bones, full lips, wide eyes. Same deep scar.
    Found you .
    The girl inhaled a strangled breath, still peering into the emptiness of her room. She rolled over, swung her legs to the floor and stood.
    “You’re curious,” the Architect muttered aloud. She stepped closer to her, wondering what she would do.
    Mari edged forward, collapsing the distance between them. The Architect felt her breath on her neck. “You sense me, don’t you?” She visually traced the slight imperfection that reached from the left side of Mari’s nose toward her lip. “I’m sorry”, the Architect whispered. “I have no choice.”
    The girl’s arms erupted in goose flesh. She stepped back, the color in her face all but gone. She reached out, slicing her hand through the space. Nothing. Once more she touched the air in her room. After a few moments she shook her head and retrieved her phone.
    The Architect opened her eyes and blinked. Her breath came in rapid pants as she nodded. She had found her. Finally. “Forgive me,” she said as new shadows danced against the blinds in the upstairs bedroom.
    Is it done? The Creator’s voice stole her concentration.
    Almost . She couldn’t keep the tremor from her voice, even in her thoughts. The Architect didn’t like sharing her mind with the Order.
    Finish it now . The presence left her mind,