The Switch by Debra Kayn (desktop ebook reader TXT) 📗

Speeder sat up, schooling his face and ignoring the red handprint wrapped around the front of his neck. Trip pushed to his feet and walked away, fighting the urge to storm inside the cave and report his findings to the controller.

"Fuck," bellowed Speeder.

Trip fisted his hands. Agonized over what to do, he watched Speeder realize what was happening.

"I-I can't." Speeder fisted the hair at the top of his head. "I'll never survive."

"You will."

They were made to withstand everything. No amount of pain, beyond someone ripping out their heart, would kill them.

But that was the case if the program worked.

With Speeder, there were flaws showing up. Trip couldn't guarantee his friend would make it through programming again. Some men never made it, and more men were brought in as replacements. Only the strongest and most enhanced succeeded.

"I'm begging you," whispered Speeder roughly. "Don't turn me in."

"You're slipping." He couldn't describe the panic going through both of them, knowing what could happen.

It wasn't only enduring the life they'd set up in Avery Falls that kept them wanting to stay alive. Most days, if he wasn't working with the men in the cave, he could forget what he was made to do.

Owning a house, having a job, socializing in town, riding with his club, he forgot behind the façade of normalcy; he was part of a conspiracy that would bring an iron hammer down on the government if the information were leaked.

It was up to him to make sure their secrets were never uncovered. If others found out he was a programmed weapon that could be switched by a simple word or command, taking out everyone in his path, the government would lock him up and slowly dissect him until he ceased to exist.

Or worse, force him to end his life by his own hands.

"My head." Speeder slapped his hands to his temples, squeezing as a flash of pain roared from his lips. "Make it stop."

Trip gawked at his friend. There was nobody around Speeder. Nothing being done to him. The pain came from inside. What had they done to him?

Speeder fell to the ground, rolling in pain.

The veins on Speeder's forehead bulged under the unseen pressure.

Trip stepped forward to help.

"No!" Speeder's arm shot out. "Take. Trina. Keep Her. Safe."

"I'll get you help. They can fix—"

Speeder yelled out, pushing to his feet, and ran erratically off into the trees. Trip looked back at the cave entrance, undecided on whether to go to the controller or go after Speeder. There should never be any hesitation.

He knew what was supposed to happen.

He knew what he had to do.

Going against his natural urge to turn Speeder in, he sprinted forward, following his MC brother. With his enhancements, he could catch up with him.

Speeder was in bad shape. Trip had never seen anything like that in men who'd graduated the program.

There would be consequences when he was caught. If the controller or handlers or the CIA found out he hadn't reported Speeder's malfunctions, he would pay.

But he couldn't let one of his oldest friends suffer.

If he had to, he'd kill Speeder to help him escape the pain.

Chapter Eight

Bonnie carried the battery out of The Shack and slid it into the holder on the fat tire bike, turning it into an electric power-assist vehicle. To her surprise and delight, Johnny had seen the demand for electric bikes soar with the new technology and provided transportation to the customers who preferred the fat tires rather than the geared mountain bikes.

Locking the key into the battery, she straightened. "Okay, you're all set. You'll have approximately thirty-eight miles if you use the throttle alone, more if you use pedal assist. I'd strongly suggest you keep an eye on the miles. You don't want to end up on the side of the mountain with not enough power. The bike is heavy if you end up having to rely on your own leg strength to get you back to The Shack."

The customer had rented the bike for the weekend. As she'd found out the first few days of working, most customers wanted to ride up to an alpine lake, spend the night, and come down off the mountain the following day.

"Thanks." Winston toed the kickstand up. "This is going to be great."

She picked up the helmet and handed it to him. "Don't forget this."

Winston grinned and put on the safety requirement. A helmet wasn't required in the state of Idaho for adults, but Johnny, her boss, mentioned it was the most important thing for her to remember. Helmets were required for the insurance they carried in case anything happened. That part was different than when she worked at Boise for the simple fact, she'd sold bikes, not rented them to customers.

Letting Winston pack the rest of his things and secure it to the rack above the rear tire, she smiled. "Have a safe trip."

"Thanks. I'm excited. I've been wanting to do this since last summer when I noticed someone else powering past me with an e-bike." Winston pushed the bike away from the building.

"You'll have a fun. Don't forget to have your camera ready. There're a lot of wildlife where you're planning on going." She stepped away, going back inside the building.

She checked the phone for any messages that might've come in while she was outside, then seeing there were none, she rearranged the bikes in the building, making more room.

The place was a literal shack. A building that was often seen in people's backyards and held their riding lawnmower and garden tools. But Johnny made it appealing by decorating the outside with spare bicycle parts.

At a quarter to five o'clock, Kenny ran through the doorway of The Shack. She hugged her youngest son.

"Did you have fun?" she asked, taking in his sweaty and dirty appearance.

"Yeah." He squeezed the horn of a nearby bicycle and laughed when she jumped.

She swatted his hand off the bulbous rubber end before he could honk it again. "Where's Zach?"

"Walking around town looking