Of Freedom's Fall (Death Prediction Project #3)
Epilogue: Ryker

I and Porter had arrived back in Lexington for Harriet’s funeral. He stood in his closet in front of his mirror tying his tie. We had agreed we’d spend three weeks here before returning to the school to catch up on everything we’d missed. His father was just glad he was taking time at all after the two-day breakdown I’d told him about and almost skipping out on the talent show.

Hilana was sat on his bed waiting for us. I leaned in the doorway of the closet watching him straighten his tie and fix his cuffs. He sighed and glanced at me in the reflection of the mirror and gave a sad smile.

Casey was coming to the funeral but Kate had said she was busy, I feel like she felt it would be weird for her to be there because it was his adoptive mother who had died.

He turned around and glanced at me, he stepped away from the mirror and approached the hanger where my tie was hanging, he pulled it off the hanger and walked over to me with it. I stood up straight and reached out to take the tie.

He shakes his head lightly and reaches forward to the collar of my white button-up shirt. He flips it up and places the tie around my neck and ties it. I allow him to do it, watching his dark eyes and fingers carefully. He fixes the tie one last time before looking up at my eyes. He takes a deep breath.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, come on,” he replies taking my hand.

We step out of the closet and the three of us go downstairs where Oli and Casey are waiting.

“You ready?” Oli asks.

I glance at Porter who’s still holding my hand, he nods sadly.

Oli picks up his coat and pulls it on over his suit and Casey follows suit. We grab our coats on the way out, too. The ground is still covered in light snow and the sky is an overcast grey-blue. We pile into Oli’s car and drive to the cemetery. There were five white roses sitting in the center console, one for each of us to lay on Harriet’s coffin.

Porter sat looking out the window as the world rushed by outside. Blurring as if we were suspended in the middle of it all. He clutched my hand, and Hilana looked on with a worried expression. As far as I was concerned Porter was doing better than the two days I’d spent in bed with him. He was living, doing things but he was also going through the grieving process, it wasn’t easy and it didn’t look the same for anyone.

We parked in the parking lot of the cemetery which was half full of cars for the service. Porter got out of the car and held the door as I climbed out. Hilana climbed out on her own side. Porter shut the car door behind me. He glanced towards the gates of the cemetery and the wrought-iron fence around it.

He gripped my hand a little tighter, before taking a step towards it.

Clare had flown in from Florida and Oli had called Simone, Theo, and Jaclyn in Kearney and got them to come down. Oli promised Clare he’d talk to them about her after the funeral, help them understand. Clare was fine with staying with Arrow in Florida but she wanted to try and mend the relationship with her parents.

We walked into the graveyard, past other gravestones, and plots. It was quiet. I had become accustomed to actual silence since using the earpieces. We stood around the coffin beside the hole it would be lowered into later. We each held a rose. A minister stood at the head of the coffin with Oli and spoke. We all listened. Oli and Porter shed a few tears. There were some people I didn’t recognize who must have been friends of Oli’s or Harriet’s.

We each stepped forward and placed our roses on the lid of the coffin. When the service was over, some people left, some stayed behind to talk. I noticed an older woman and a boy in his earlier teens standing nearby. The boy turned his head to listen to the woman say something and I noticed his earpieces. They looked exactly like the ones Michael had given me but this kid wasn’t one of the twelve subjects I knew about, I didn’t recognize him and he looked a lot younger than us. Porter was the youngest subject we knew of. Who was this?

He looked up and over at me. He had bright blue eyes, but short, closely cropped curly brown hair, was about the same height as me, and a light African-American complexion. The older woman noticed us. She stepped closer. Porter turned his attention to them, too.

“Hello, you must be Ryker and Porter, right?” she questioned.

“Yes,” I answered unsure what to make of them.

“I am Theresa, this is Shiloh. He was the thirteenth subject of the Death Prediction Project,” she explains. “We are sorry for your loss.”

Shiloh reaches up and removes one of the earpieces from his ear, he turns his attention to Hilana. I watch him as he seems to listen to her song. Theresa watches him.

Sixty-two. He signs.

“What did he say?” Porter asks.

“She has sixty-two years,” Theresa answers. “He can accurately tell you how many years you have left.”

Porter glances over at Hilana who is talking to Casey and Oli.

“How old are you?” I question.

Fourteen. He signs.

I had heard about David Keen, he used sign language to communicate because they had removed his hearing after the experiments so he could live comfortably. Why did Shiloh use it though?

“Why don’t you speak?” I question carefully.

He opened his mouth revealing a tongue-less mouth.

“Dr. Quincy removed his tongue thinking that would keep him from saying anything about the experiments but he learned to communicate without it,” Theresa explained.

“His medical license was revoked in 2005 after the second shutdown though, how did he experiment on you in 2007 then?” Porter asked.

“He had his ways,” Theresa replied shrugging.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“He saw some of you on the news, I know now isn’t the best time but he wanted to meet you. He knew there were others but after Quincy tried to hide him away, he thought he’d never meet any of you. With them in custody it’s finally safe,” she explains.

We should let them grieve. He signed to Theresa.

“Maybe sometime later you can get together and talk,” she replied.

“Yeah, sure,” I reply.

She hands me her number and waves goodbye before leading Shiloh out of the cemetery.

Hilana catches a ride home with her family and Oli drives us and Casey back to their house. Casey departs from there in his own car.

“She’s going to get to live a full life,” Porter murmured staring off into space as I untied my tie.

“She is,” I reply quietly sitting down on his bed beside him, rubbing his shoulder.

It must be scary knowing the exact amount of time each person you come across has.

Porter leans against me, his lips resting on my earlobe, he starts to hum “In My Veins” by Andrew Belle.

I feel a tear slip from his eyes onto my cheek.

I moved and press my forehead to his, I look up at his eyes, shiny from the tears. I lean forward and hug him tightly, his face buried in my shoulder.

It wouldn’t be easy, but we’d get through it. All of us, together.

“Go change out of the suit and rest, okay?” I say lightly.

Porter pulls back and nods quietly wiping his tears. He gives me a kiss on the cheek before getting up and going into the closet to change. I pull out the number Theresa gave me.

Nobody knew anything about Shiloh, not us, not Ryū, not the FBI, he wasn’t mentioned in any of the files Ezra and them had found. It was like his very existence had been erased or kept separate. Quincy had gotten what he wanted then. He had successfully created someone who could accurately give you a timeline of when you were going to die, and then silenced him.

How had Shiloh even ended up with Theresa? If Shiloh was a successful experiment, you think Quincy would have hidden him as far from the public eye as possible, to protect the experiments and his research so he could duplicate it later.

I took my phone and dialed the number, Theresa answered.

“How did Shiloh end up with you?” I asked.

“Quincy’s project was running out of money, he figured if he had his research he could duplicate the result he got with Shiloh and make more money by selling the subjects, there was an auction, on the Dark Web, they had secret agents monitoring it. One of them, was me. We threw together the highest bid, bought him, and tracked the money back to Quincy. We didn’t know about his powers or involvement in the DPP at first, we thought he was just a child being sold on the Dark Web,” she explained. “We taught Shiloh sign language and he soon told us the whole story, including how Quincy cut off his tongue so he couldn’t speak to us when he arrived in our custody.”

“Are you sure he’s the last?” I ask.

“Shiloh doesn’t recall there being any other children, but considering there are very little records after 2005, there’s no telling, and the Dark Web isn’t exactly the most monitored or trustworthy place, he could have had other subjects and sold them, but as far as we know, he is the last according to Quincy and Kismet,” she replies.

The End.

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