Infected: Die Like Supernovas (The Outlaw Book 2) (15 page)

“I can take care of myself.”

“You’re a mess, hero. You’ve basically died twice. Realize that? I’m not mean. I’m realistic. I don’t
pre
scribe, I
de
scribe. I’m pragmatic. I wanted you to make it. Really wanted it. A grand experiment of enormous magnitude. Thought I could control it,” he kept droning to himself. “Thought I could manage. Still might. Maybe… Variables…too many variables… But it’s falling apart.”

“Nothing’s falling apart,” Natalie said. “He’s one of the most beloved people on the planet. My publicist takes calls daily from reporters wanting to interview him.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Of course. They all want me to introduce you. I keep telling her No. She’s even hired a ghostwriter to compose our story into a novel that will be released the day after you sign off on it,” she rolled her eyes.

“You see, kid? This is a disaster,” Carter said.

“Just relax, Carter. Everything’s okay.”

He laughed bitterly and said, “You’re losing parts of your memory. You can’t handle your emotions. Or your body. Soon you’ll be out of control. Everything is not okay.”

“I’m not insane.”

“You’re wearing a clown costume, jumping off buildings, and you have no memory of it. Exactly what further evidence do we need? Soon you’ll start hurting people.”

“I’m helping people,” I reasoned. I was vulnerable, on my back. He had all the power. Keep him talking. “What do you do with your ability? Nothing that I can see.”

“Tried helping you,” he said tiredly. “But you didn’t listen. Really wanted you to make it. Wanted it to work. Exhausted with failure. But it’s a no go. You’re just grist for the virus. All the time…all the years…and the planning. It gets all of us, eventually.”

“The virus? Not the surviving Infected,” I said.

“Especially the survivors,” he grunted. This was Carter’s weary soul. He was spilling out his thoughts, and for the first time I fully understood he wasn’t 100% sane. He hadn’t escaped the virus unscathed. “Gets us too. Us most of all. We’re not really alive.”

“The Infected?” Natalie asked. “What’s that?”

“The Infected is a group that needs to be protected,” he said and jabbed a finger at me. “From him.”

“You’re protecting the Infected? I thought that was the Shooter’s job,” I pointed out.

“Yeah,” he chuckled darkly. “Supposed to be. Shooter shoulda dispatched you. Days ago. I have scheduled a long talk with the Shooter.”

“The Shooter knows I’m a good person,” I told him. “Just like PuckDaddy. They like me. Ask them. I’m not insane. I’m not crazy.”

“You’re halfway there. And just because you earned some pity from two of the Infected…doesn’t mean you get to live,” he waved his pistol at us.

“Not pity. Approval. Acceptance.”

“I decide who gets accepted, hero!” he yelled suddenly, and the thin metal walls of Natalie’s storage unit rattled. My whole body clenched, expecting a gun shot. Was I still wearing a vest? “Not them. They do as they’re told.”

“Apparently not.”

“I don’t understand,” Natalie breathed.

“Let Natalie go,” I repeated. “You and I can figure this out.”

“No go, mate,” he said. He shook his head. “She’s heard too much.”

“No she hasn’t. She’ll be quiet.”

“What are you two talking about?” she asked, and I could feel her trembling.

“Sorry, kid,” he said with no smile. The gun leveled. At me. “I liked you. You had potential.”

“Wait…” I said, with mounting desperation.

Then he cocked his head, listening. I heard it too. A sound. A door shut. Footsteps. Two sets of feet. Coming closer. Carter stood up and put his gun behind his back.

Our door opened, spilling in light, and a man entered, smiling. He looked fifty, tall, slender, well dressed. His smile faltered briefly when he saw Carter. Carter’s face hardened. He looked ready to bring his gun back up but in walked a little girl. She had to be six years old or less, wearing cute red pajamas. She had just woken up. Oh no. Run! Go! Carter was frozen, his eyes flicking between all of us.

“I wanted to bring my niece,” the man said, glancing at Natalie. “To check on the patient. Is now a good time?”

No one moved. No one spoke. Natalie was holding her breath. The man, the doctor I assumed, started looking more and more concerned during the long pause. The granite in Carter’s face slowly softened.

“Now is a great time,” Carter finally spoke. Everyone let out a big breath. “I’ll make you a deal,” he said, addressing Natalie and I. “I’ll leave you now. I’ll leave you and the little girl in peace. But please remember what I’ve said,” he said and he patted the little girl on the head. “So that there will be no more accidents. Innocent people could get hurt if you don’t take my advice. Am I being explicit enough?”

“Yes. Now go.”

“That sounds great,” Natalie nodded, her voice strong and friendly. She was an actress, after all. “We’ll see you soon.”

He left.

The doctor promised complete confidentiality. In his professional opinion I had a major cardiac event and I needed immediate medical attention. He wasn’t wrong, I knew, but my body had probably already healed itself. Soon afterwards he and the awestruck little girl left.

It took me ten minutes to convince Natalie not to call the police on Carter. There was absolutely nothing that could be done about him.

I was starving so Natalie fetched some food. She was thrilled to know what I looked like, even though my appearance didn’t help her discover my identity. She rejoiced that we were approximately the same age, and she demanded payment for my rescue. We stayed on that blanket for another thirty minutes while we talked and she covered my face with kisses. I resisted her but she was persistent and my arms weren’t moving very well. Besides, my girlfriend didn’t care about me and the girl I really loved was dating another man.

That was too many girls.

That night I worried over the Shooter, the riots, football practice, Samantha Gear, Katie, Hannah Walker, Natalie North, my grades, Andy Babington, my fatal disease, my secret identity, my father, my new physical condition, my lack of money…everything. There really was only one solution.

I needed to simplify. And I knew just where to start.

Katie

I’m alone.

Well. Not really. I’m not alone. That’s too dramatic. But I
feel
alone.

I know that’s silly. Mami loves me. I have a great mami. My brother Anthony loves me, even if I never see him.

Chase loves me. Sometimes I think he even loves me romantically. He’s changed recently. He’s taller, broader, muscular, dark, and…beautiful. My heart flip flops just thinking about him! He used to be so scrawny, so timid. Now I can scarcely focus in Spanish!

I have friends like Lee and Cory, too.

And I’m dating a handsome guy! He’s really really hot, actually. I really shouldn’t be into Tank, but I am. There’s something magnetic about him that I cannot escape. He’s funny when we’re together. He has a very impressive GPA. He’s extremely busy, so he only contacts me once or twice a week. He’s crazy rich, which isn’t important…but it helps!

But I still feel so alone. No one really
knows
me. My Model UN friends are more like business associates. I love Young Life but rarely get to attend. Everyone is so busy. Like we’re in a competition.

On the bright side, apparently the world’s only true superhero has a crush on me! I have to fan myself when I remember that magical night.

Someone knocked on my door. What time was it? Eight o’clock? Could only be Chase! Chase was here! I glanced at myself in the mirror, rearranged, rubbed some lotion onto my arms and hands, and answered the door for my favorite guy.

…it wasn’t Chase.

It was Chase’s girlfriend, Hannah Walker. Surprise! Augh!

“Hannah? Uh, hi!” I said.

“Hi Katie,” she said. Gosh she’s pretty. I loved her and hated her for her beauty. She stood there, wearing more money than my whole closet cost, effortlessly looking like everything beautiful. “I’m sorry. It’s late.”

“No! That’s okay. Come in. How do you know where I live?”

She came in, and I felt very conspicuous about my room. It was too girlie. Like a little girl lived here. Hannah Walker was not a little girl and my room looked shabby in comparison. Must fix! Immediately! No more kitten posters! I wonder what posters Hannah had in her room? Maybe I should get my hair colored like hers.

“Chase pointed out your apartment once,” Hannah answered, playing with her rings. “I’m sorry for coming so late.”

“It’s fine. Are you okay?”

“No,” she answered simply, and then I realized she was bursting with emotion, barely holding it in. Her eyes were pooling, her lips pouting.

“Hannah! Ohmygosh, what’s wrong?”

“Chase,” she squeaked.

“Chase? Is he okay?”

Then she fell apart. She stood like a beautiful statuesque carving, crying into her hands until I hugged her. She pushed her face into my shoulder, getting my new sweater all wet. She’s tall, almost as tall as Chase, and clearly not good at hugs. Most white people are bad at it, actually. “We broke up. Chase did…Chase broke up with me.”

Whoa!! Huge news!

Broke up? Why??

Chase doesn’t have a girlfriend! The whole school would be after him now.

“Oh Hannah,” I said, walking a tight-rope with my emotions. “I’m so sorry. I thought you two were happy.”

“Me too! Please don’t tell anyone?” Hannah asked.

“Oh. Sure. Of course. It’s a secret?”

“Mmhm. At least, you know, until I figure out how to get dumped gracefully. Right?” Hannah said, backing up and wiping tears away with her fingers.

“When did this happen?”

“Just now. I went over to surprise him. I bought him some designer supplements, to help him put on muscle. And… he just told me,” she sighed and sat down on the edge of my bed. Perched, more like it.

“Guys are such jerks,” I commiserated. But I was lying. Not Chase. Chase was one of the nicest guys I knew.

“Yeah. But really? Chase isn’t,” replied Hannah, snatching several handfuls of tissues out of my unicorn tissue box. Embarrassing. “I’m sure you know. You two are best friends. He is so good for me.
Was
.
Was
so good for me. I never had to worry about him, even when I knew he was coming over here to see you. You’re like…the prettiest girl on earth, but I never worried. Not with Chase.”

“Yeah,” I said. I sat beside her and rubbed her back. I didn’t know what else to say. She was right. She didn’t have to worry about him. Chase was an open book. Almost…boring.

“Do you ever worry? About the guy you’re dating? Tank?” she asked.

“Well…” I stammered.

“I feel so stupid. About getting him the present, the muscle supplements. Sometimes he looks huge. Don’t you think? When he’s working out or playing football or something? Like, so big! And sometimes…he looks like he did a year ago, normal-sized Chase. Your boyfriend is going to kill normalsized Chase on the football field next year. I thought the supplements…might help? I don’t know. I’m pathetic. So lame.”

“No no,” I said. “I get that. But Tank is not my bo-”

“I don’t blame him. Chase, I mean, for breaking up with me, you know?” sniffed Hannah. “I’m
not
a good girlfriend. I have too much baggage. Too many issues. It’s my fault. I know it is. But do you know what?” she said with sudden energy. “He’s changed, too. He’s different recently. Have you noticed?”

“I have! Like he’s distracted, or thinking-”

“Exactly!” she interrupted me. “He’s always somewhere else, do you know what I mean?”

“Complaining about a headache?” I
had
noticed. Chase’s whole disposition had changed in the past month or two. It was like he’d become constantly feverish. Tired. Stressed. Always wanted to hold hands. Which I didn’t exactly mind.

“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know. A good girlfriend would have noticed.”

“I’m glad you came over. You can even spend the night, if you want. No one should be alone on days like this. Mami won’t mind.”

“Wow,” she laughed through her tears. “You really are very nice. And your house smells delicious.”

“Why’d you come here? And not go see Erica or some of your other friends?” I asked.

“Oh. You know. I’m not sure I have any real friends. I have…allies, is perhaps the right word.” She dabbed her eyes and looked ashamed at having to admit that.

“I was just thinking the same thing!” I cried. “Right when you knocked! Being friends with girls is hard.”

“Ugh. I know. We’re the worst,” she agreed.

“So catty.”

“And do you know who I really hate? That new girl. The kicker. God, I hate her. I know she’s after Chase. Speaking of being catty. I want to run her over.”

“Oh,” I managed to say. “Samantha. I-I don’t think she’s after Chase.”

“I do.” She laid down, head on my pillow, and was asleep almost instantaneously. I watched her for a while, feeling uncomfortable and awkward in my own room. Now what?

My phone was on my desk, next to the laptop, beckoning. Chase, it whispered. Chase is single. Call him. Call Chase.

Katie

I did not call Chase. I fought with my phone for five days. But I never gave in. Two of the nights I told Mami to hide my phone, so I could avoid temptation. She seemed to understand.

He
didn’t call
me
either. Which crushed me. Why wouldn’t he want to talk about it? I’m right here. Aren’t we best friends? Don’t we talk about everything?

Sigh.

Tank hasn’t contacted me either. Also distressing.

Boys are so so so so stupid. Blah. Can’t stand them. Can’t focus. I’ve been working on the same easy math problem for twenty minutes. Stupid stupid stupid boys.

Chase looked terrible today at school. And yesterday. He hardly talks anymore. Looks like he hasn’t slept in days. Could he be doing drugs? He only perks up when I hold his hand. I’m not complaining. He says that it makes him feel better. But it’s strange. Very unlike him.