into a bank deposit envelope and met his gaze. “My brother-in-law is a county sheriff, and he’s going to run your name, your driver’s license number, and your tags. If he shouldn’t, tell me now, and I’ll return your deposit and you can keep going.”
“I’m clean.”
“Good.” She handed him a business card. “Any problems, you can reach me at either number anytime. Just be warned, you call after midnight, the place had better be burning down around you.”
Drew chuckled and shook her hand.
The room he’d rented had several bonuses: It was clean, comfortably furnished without being crowded or fussy, and the windows gave him an excellent view of both sides of Main Street. The tiny bathroom offered only a shower, but the water was hot, plentiful, and had the crystal-clear, faintly mineral taste of the mountain reservoir from where it originated.
Drew didn’t unpack for the first week as he looked around and made himself known to the townspeople. A few eyed the new beard he’d grown, and one of the waitresses at the local diner claimed he looked just like that red-haired actor during his NYPD Blue days, but other than that he passed inspection.
His cover story was as new as his beard; he was David White, a native of Los Angeles and graduate student who was spending his winter holidays on the road to see a little of the state while he figured out his thesis. It was just specific enough to explain his joblessness and the temporary nature of his residence, and vague enough to keep anyone from running more than a cursory background check. Even if someone did, Drew’s hacking abilities combined with a little help from his friends had insured that every detail would hold up. David White was registered as a graduate student at his college, had last resided in a small apartment off campus, and had inherited a small but tidy sum of money from a deceased uncle that was financing his mini-sabbatical. His taxes were paid, his student loans were up-to-date, and even his car was registered to the nonexistent David White.
He had bought his phone in L.A. from a store that specialized in the latest preservation of privacy gear, and while it looked like an ordinary cordless, it encrypted its own signal and could detect a trace within five seconds of activation. His computer, salvaged from the house in Savannah that had served as a base of operations for him and his friends, also boasted enough safeguards to rival those of the Pentagon.
Drew liked living in Halagan well enough, although he’d have to move on by the time the new year arrived. After several years of working undercover at GenHance, Inc., he had been exposed as a spy and had barely escaped being captured, killed, and dissected. Although outwardly he appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary, somewhat geeky computer nerd, Drew’s DNA was something more than human, and had made him part of a secret new order of superhumans that had named themselves the Takyn.
Like his other friends, Drew had been genetically altered as an orphaned child by scientists working outside the law. No one knew exactly what they had intended, but their experiments had resulted in children with powerful, unique, and sometimes frightening psychic abilities. After an accident destroyed the main experimental facility and killed most of the geneticists working on the project, the surviving children’s memories had been suppressed or erased before they were placed for adoption and scattered throughout the country. Neither the children nor their new families had any idea of what had been done to alter them.
Their Takyn abilities remained dormant for the most part throughout their childhood, although some of the children showed minor, precursory abilities. As a boy Drew had always been able to sense the presence of copper, usually in the form of pennies on the ground. He was so good at finding the coins, some of his friends in the old neighborhood had used him like a metal detector.
“I’m clean.”
“Good.” She handed him a business card. “Any problems, you can reach me at either number anytime. Just be warned, you call after midnight, the place had better be burning down around you.”
Drew chuckled and shook her hand.
The room he’d rented had several bonuses: It was clean, comfortably furnished without being crowded or fussy, and the windows gave him an excellent view of both sides of Main Street. The tiny bathroom offered only a shower, but the water was hot, plentiful, and had the crystal-clear, faintly mineral taste of the mountain reservoir from where it originated.
Drew didn’t unpack for the first week as he looked around and made himself known to the townspeople. A few eyed the new beard he’d grown, and one of the waitresses at the local diner claimed he looked just like that red-haired actor during his NYPD Blue days, but other than that he passed inspection.
His cover story was as new as his beard; he was David White, a native of Los Angeles and graduate student who was spending his winter holidays on the road to see a little of the state while he figured out his thesis. It was just specific enough to explain his joblessness and the temporary nature of his residence, and vague enough to keep anyone from running more than a cursory background check. Even if someone did, Drew’s hacking abilities combined with a little help from his friends had insured that every detail would hold up. David White was registered as a graduate student at his college, had last resided in a small apartment off campus, and had inherited a small but tidy sum of money from a deceased uncle that was financing his mini-sabbatical. His taxes were paid, his student loans were up-to-date, and even his car was registered to the nonexistent David White.
He had bought his phone in L.A. from a store that specialized in the latest preservation of privacy gear, and while it looked like an ordinary cordless, it encrypted its own signal and could detect a trace within five seconds of activation. His computer, salvaged from the house in Savannah that had served as a base of operations for him and his friends, also boasted enough safeguards to rival those of the Pentagon.
Drew liked living in Halagan well enough, although he’d have to move on by the time the new year arrived. After several years of working undercover at GenHance, Inc., he had been exposed as a spy and had barely escaped being captured, killed, and dissected. Although outwardly he appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary, somewhat geeky computer nerd, Drew’s DNA was something more than human, and had made him part of a secret new order of superhumans that had named themselves the Takyn.
Like his other friends, Drew had been genetically altered as an orphaned child by scientists working outside the law. No one knew exactly what they had intended, but their experiments had resulted in children with powerful, unique, and sometimes frightening psychic abilities. After an accident destroyed the main experimental facility and killed most of the geneticists working on the project, the surviving children’s memories had been suppressed or erased before they were placed for adoption and scattered throughout the country. Neither the children nor their new families had any idea of what had been done to alter them.
Their Takyn abilities remained dormant for the most part throughout their childhood, although some of the children showed minor, precursory abilities. As a boy Drew had always been able to sense the presence of copper, usually in the form of pennies on the ground. He was so good at finding the coins, some of his friends in the old neighborhood had used him like a metal detector.
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