Page 88 of G.O.D.S Omnibus

Checkmate

Gifted. Obedient. Deadly. Students #2

Prologue

Trace

We always knew running with Zircon was going to be hard. The plan wasn’t flawless—no plan ever is—but ours was blinded by our love for her. Our entire world revolved around her happiness. The older Zircon got, the more we began to realise our connection to her. One none of us should have had, and the first indication that Mr Z was up to something.

Continuously moving in order to stay hidden is hard for a teenage girl, and I can see it in her eyes that she longs for friends. I see her watching kids her own age every time we leave the house. Guilt is not an emotion I have ever been familiar with, and it fucking sucks.

Brennan checks in with us once a month. We keep our interactions short and to the point. The others are still not happy that I got to leave with her, but out of all of us, I was the safest choice. My ability is facial recognition, and Mr Z would no doubt used me to find her. I would’ve had to scour endless footage, dayin and day out, until she was home. With me gone, he has to rely on an actual computer, and they have numerous flaws. Brennan has all the computers in Olympia running the software set to alert him if we are recognised.

But now Brennan has a new plan. He has some connections within the foster care system which will give Zircon—or Jolie, as we now call her—the chance to have a childhood. To make real friends. It’s risky, but he says they have found a way to create a false trail on the dark web as to her whereabouts and mine, sending Mr Z’s search away from us. All we want is to make her happy.

After the “accident,” I managed to convince Jolie that someone was after me and it was safer for us to always be on the move. With her memories wiped, she has no recollection of Olympia or her team. She has also never wanted to know who she was. Her gifts have helped with that. She’s always been happy to change her hair colour and wear hats every time we’ve left the small drab places we’ve stayed in.

I’ve felt sick to my stomach all day. Every time I think about what’s going to happen, bile burns my throat. I know they’re coming to take her away. Brennan sent me some fake fingerprints that Chester had his scientist friend help him make. The prints connect to all the information that now belongs to Jolie Smith—IDs, certificates, anything that she might need. The technology is outstanding. He says all I need to do is place her fingertips over the outline on the plastic sheeting and it’ll adhere to her skin, hiding who she really is. I also have a letter for her I stashed in her backpack. I hope she finds happiness away from us. She has to, or all of this will have been for nothing.

Jolie walks out from the shower wrapped in a towel. I close my eyes for a second and take a deep, steadying breath. I’ve tried to not develop feelings for her. She’s too young for me and I’m supposed to be her protector.

“Hey, can you come here for a second?” I ask her.

She nods and bounces over to where I’m standing next to a dirty old table. “What’s wrong?” Her large blue-green eyes are filled with worry.

“Nothing. Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” she replies with no hesitation.

“I need you to put your hands on these sheets of paper, over the finger spaces.”

She thinks about it for a few seconds. “Like this?” she asks, hovering her hands over where they need to go.

“Just like that,” I say, giving her my best faux smile.

She doesn’t miss the fakeness behind it, but she places her hands down anyway. Chester assured me he has a way to remove them if we ever need to change her identity again, but I just hope we’re doing the right thing. We were stupid to believe that I could move around so much with her.

Looking down at my watch, I see it’s almost time. Ziyon, Mr Z’s twin brother, has helped us stage this interaction.

“Go get dressed and we can get some food.”

She does as I ask, walking to the lounge and grabbing her clothes from the clean washing pile before hurrying from the room.

Banging on the door has my heart jumping out of my chest. I wipe the sweat beading on my brow with the bottom of my T-shirt and glance in the direction Jolie walked. Why did Brennan think this was a good idea again? What if everything goes wrong? How will I be able to live with myself?

I fix my clothes and walk towards the door, and another swift bang has me walking faster. I grip the door handle and take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

A lady in her late thirties stands beyond the entrance, her smile tight. The two police officers standing behind her give mea nod. I step aside and allow them entry to the small dingy place we have been staying in.

“What’s going on, Trace?” Jolie whispers from the bathroom door. Although I can barely hear her, my heart breaks at the dejection in her tone.

Turning towards her, I put on my best poker face. “I’m so sorry,” is all I can muster up.

The lady steps closer to Jolie, and I can see her walls go straight up. She may not remember who she is, but her gifts are still hidden deep inside her mind.

“Hi, Jolie. My name is Becca, and I’m from child safety.”

“Child safety? I’m safe, so why are you here?”

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