The wind ruffled through his hair as Andre watched the feed from his crawler—Vance closing Bella’s curtain.
His thumb tapped once.
The image shifted.
Something small settled against the wall beside her window… then disappeared.
Andre slid the phone into his back pocket.
He raised his hands and dropped into a stance.
“Show me.”
Zayden frowned. “Dad?”
“Begin.”
Zayden stepped in with a right. Andre blocked it. A left followed—blocked again. Andre’s foot swept low.
Zayden hit the ground.
He exhaled sharply, pushing himself up. “What’s the point of this? You know I can’t beat you.”
Andre stepped in, nudging his stance wider with his foot.
“Your stance is wrong.”
Andre corrected the position of Zayden’s arm without looking at him, forcing it down until it sat right.
“Lower.”
Zayden hesitated before settling into the stance but it didn’t hold. His foot slipped against the grit on the rooftop.
“More,” he barked.
He pressed his hand firmly on Zayden’s shoulder, forcing him down an inch lower.
“Better.”
Andre stepped back.
“You’ve been mimicking what you see.”
Zayden’s heart pounded in his ears.
He turned his back to Zayden. “Don’t copy what you don’t understand, Zayden.”
Clutching his fists to his sides, he glanced over his shoulder. “That is your posture of readiness. Learn it first.”
Zayden stood there, his feet locked in place. His eyes worked to take in the exact placement of his arms and legs.
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“You can relax.”
“How did you know, dad?”
Andre said nothing.
“I hate it when you go silent.”
“Zayden,” Andre inhaled and lowered his voice, “The other day when you saved me.”
Zayden studied him, watching his father’s every move.
“That is not the life I want for you.”
The air left him. He took a step back as his shoulders slouched. His eyes shifted to the rooftop, as his head dropped. Unable to look him in the eyes, Zayden’s eyes tracked a moth by him.
A small gust of wind blew a dead leaf across the rooftop.
Andre stepped closer and placed a hand on his shoulder, watching him closely.
“You made me proud.”
Zayden’s face wrinkled with bewilderment. He raised his head, meeting his eyes. His mouth worked but nothing came out until…. “I didn’t…you never said. I wasn’t expecting...”
Andre straightened. “I have always been proud of you. You make me proud every day. Never doubt it or forget it.” He took a few steps backwards. “ I work hard so that you can have a better life than I had growing up.”
Zayden looked up at him. “You never talk about your childhood, dad.”
Andre said nothing.
“Or why you became Spant.”
His shoulders stiffened.
Zayden took a step closer.
“You won’t tell me about those scars on your chest, either.”
Andre flicked the back of his tooth.
“You’ve been hiding them from me for years, dad.”
His jaw tightened.
Zayden’s face frowned. He opened his mouth but quickly closed it.
“I’m sorry, dad. I shouldn’t’ve...”
Andre pulled his shirt out of his pants, turning his back to Zayden. He lifted his shirt over his head. A lifetime of pain and scars were written over his back
“These scars are why I don’t want you to follow in my footsteps.” His eyes darkened. “They took us when I was younger than you are now.”
His voice trailed off.
“I was a child.”
He waited before speaking.
His hand trembled slightly as it rested against the scars.
“No one asked me if I wanted any of it. Any of this.”
He inhaled.
“They didn’t stop when I cried out from the pain. Needles…scalpels. All hours. I couldn’t—”
His breath catching when the cold metal touched his skin.
He stopped and swallowed. He tried again.
“They opened me up and never…. stopped cutting.”
“My DNA was changed, altered, Zayden.”
Andre walked to the edge of the building, clutching his shirt. His eyes found the building in the distance.
Pharma.
Zayden’s eyes dragged over the scars again before Andre covered them with his shirt. He followed his line of sight.
The building.
“Pharma?”
The windows on the top floor went out.
“They did this to you.”
Andre walked down the side of the building and stopped. “That is how I do this. I was not born with any special gifts.”
He flicked his wrist, a small hole opened and a thin strand of black filament shot out. The filament landed on Zayden’s shoe. “I am not a Gen-Outliner. That,” he pointed at Zayden’s shoe, “That is not natural. My body accepted their changes but at a price.”
Andre leapt over him and landed on the rooftop.
“I never asked for this.”
Zayden’s eyes widened.
“Dad.”
“They took everything. My parents. My—”
“Threw me away.”
Andre’s gaze stayed on his hands.
“So I don’t let them keep it.”
Andre inhaled slowly.
“They cannot have you. I won’t let them take you.”
Zayden stepped forward, and held onto him. His fingers bunching the fabric of his shirt.
Andre hesitated for a moment. Then pulled Zayden into him, placing a hand firm against Zayden’s back.
“I’m sorry they did this to you, Dad,” he whispered.
“When did this become your fault,” Andre asked, walking toward the exit door with Zayden in his arms.
A tear fell from Zayden’s eye. His grip tightened on Andre’s shirt as his eyes never left the Pharma’s building in the distance.