Infinity Rises Read Online Free Page B

almost instantly, merely with a focused thought.”
    “Oh my god. How is that even possible?” asks Bit.
    “Now is not the time, girlie . . . Finn, please believe me!” he says.
    “I know, Graham; I’ve seen that, too,” I say. Faint flashes of a sunny afternoon, buckled bicycle spokes, and a broken arm flicker before my eyes.
    “Then . . . you must know that she’s your only chance.”
    “I don’t trust her. She’s dangerous. Why can’t you tell me how I can heal my body?”
    “Finn, it took years for Infinity to develop the mental discipline required to heal serious wounds. Even if you do find her and manage to wake her, the chance that she will be able to repair this level of damage is slim at best. There have been so many times I’ve regretted the choices that were made for you without your knowledge, how we played god to satisfy our curiosity about what we could do with you.”
    “Why are you telling me this?”
    “Because now is one of those times, and you need to understand. Infinity was two years old when we accidentally split her mind and, to everyone’s surprise, you appeared. You and Infinity are as different from each other as two strangers walking in opposite directions on the same road. You were raised to be a normal girl, Finn, so we could hide you in plain sight, and normal girls aren’t supposed to be able to instantly heal their wounds. The truth, and I wish with all my heart that it wasn’t, is that you aren’t able to heal yourself . . . because we made you forget how. I’m so sorry.”
    “Please, Finn!” begs Bit. “Please find her! You have to try!”
    “Please try, Finn.” Graham’s voice is shaking. “I don’t want to lose you. Either of you.”
    After what I just heard, I’m not only shocked—I’m furious. But I also know that Graham is right. I may be some kind of twisted experimental guinea pig, but this guinea pig doesn’t want to die. Infinity is my only chance. If she can fix this, then I have no other choice but to find her, and if there’s the tiniest, dimmest light at the end of this tunnel, then I’m gonna try my best to reach for it.
    “Please, Finn,” Graham implores again. “I’m trying to save your life.”
    “How do I find her?” I ask into the void.
    “Thank you, Finn.” Graham’s words, at first awash in relief, suddenly become stern. “Now, listen closely. You need to begin by thinking of Infinity. Any memories that she showed you, think of those again. Focus on a specific moment that stands out to you, and go there in your mind. Think of her mannerisms, her personality. Tie those to the memory; try and feel what she was feeling at the time. If you can do that, then hopefully you will be drawn to wherever she is.”
    “I’ll try,” I murmur.
    “That’s all I can ask for,” says Graham. “I’m doing my best to keep your body alive, but please remember . . . there isn’t much time. You must hurry.”
    “Good luck, Finn!” yells Bit. She’s not even trying to disguise the worry in her voice.
    I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and think of the first and only time I ever met the other side of me. It was somewhere like this, inside our head, the tapping of her shoes through the darkness. The sound I now know was the monster in the attic coming out to play. Of course, I remember her face; it’s my face, identical in every detail but one. The look of death in her faraway stare is the chasm that separates us. The moment I picture that look, her face becomes a stranger’s mask. Graham is right; we may share the same body, but we are nothing alike.
    I remember her breath in my ear, her voice a poisonous whisper. I remember her fingertips raking through my hair like a spider stroking a fly before its fangs are bared. My heart beats faster as I remember, and I almost stop. What if she takes over again and I can’t get back? Would wandering this limbo, trapped between our minds until we die, be worse than dying right now?