Z 2135 (21 page)

It had been two days since The Underground meeting, and Adam hadn’t seen or heard from Keller at all. Just when he was starting to wonder if he’d done something to disappoint the Chief, he was summoned: Keller wanted to take Adam out for dinner again.

“There’s nothing like a meal between friends.”

Their best conversations usually happened when eating. The Chief said breaking bread loosened tongues. Tonight, he said Adam could pick any place that he wanted. Adam chose Bastion because he liked that they had plenty of screens, and that none of them broadcast The Games. Bastion played old movies and comedies, mostly from before the Outbreak. One of the movies was called
The Fifth Element
. Bastion was the only place Adam had seen it. Mom and Dad had taken him when he was three, because Ana loved it. That was the first time Adam had ever seen a piece of
The Fifth Element
, and he’d anticipated every piece since. He was pretty sure he’d seen most of the movie, probably all of it over the course of several years.

Adam stared at the screen closest to them: Cornelius was instructing David to prepare the temple before sneaking aboard the passenger ship. Adam tried to pay attention to the scene, but couldn’t stop thinking about Michael, and The Underground, and about the Chief wanting to know all about the both of them and how they went together.

The Chief read Adam’s mind, and it filled him with chills. “So, your friend Michael— does he strike you as a problem for The State?”

The Chief really wanted to know if Michael was a member of The Underground. If Adam said the stuff he thought he should, then everything would be different forever and not in a way that he liked.

Adam looked the Chief in his eyes. He said, “Michael isn’t in The Underground, Chief Keller, and I don’t think The City has anything to worry about.” He paused, then started swinging his feet under the chair and continued. “Still, I don’t think I want to hang out with him anymore, and not just because we only go to Nips and never do anything fun. It’s because Michael is boring, and never has anything to say. He’s not really happy for me, but that doesn’t make him one of the bad guys. I can’t see him in The Underground. He’s too weak.”

Adam’s leg was bouncing, and he couldn’t stop it. The Chief hooked his eyes into Adam’s and clawed. Adam couldn’t look away. If he did the Chief would know he was lying.

He knows I’m lying already.

Even without turning, Adam was sure the Chief knew. He could see it in his icy, almost robotic stare. Everything harsh about the man seemed twice so beneath his gaze. Until he finally granted mercy by looking away, Adam would be stuck in his panic, leg bouncing, sweat starting to bead, heart rate irregular, desperate to alter his story.

Adam was terrified.

The Chief
had
to know he was lying. He was waiting for Adam to crack. When he did, everything would change.

It’s not too late. The Chief will understand if I admit it …

“Well then,” he smiled. “That’s a relief. Michael’s Underground involvement
would
leave you in an awful spot. On one hand you’d feel an obligation to protect your friend—this is natural and righteous and perfectly in your proven nature. On the other hand, you do have an obligation to your State, City, and role as a Watcher Cadet.”

The Chief leaned across the table and set his eyes to Adam’s bouncing knee. Pleasant as always he asked, “Do you need to use the restroom, son?”

Adam stopped his knee. “Yes, I have to go bad.”

He laughed. “Well, why didn’t you say something? A real man knows not to hold it. Go!” The Chief swatted his hand toward the restrooms.

Adam half smiled, then stood and went to the bathroom on the other side of the Bastion, heart pounding. The only reason his knee wasn’t rattling like a Barrens snake was because he was finally walking somewhere. He stepped inside the bathroom, closed the door behind him, and started to freak.

Adam waited about the length of time he thought it would take to pee, then turned on the faucet and splashed his face, telling himself over and over not to be stupid.

You have to tell him. The Chief knows Michael’s in The Underground, and he probably knows that you know. You’ll be in SO much trouble if you keep it a secret. Tell him about the meeting. Just get it over with. You have to. You don’t have a choice. It’s Michael’s fault for trusting you. You’re a Cadet. A Junior Watcher. A Whitewasher. You wore your uniform to The Edge!

Adam dried his face well, trying to pat as much of his hair into place as he could. He didn’t want it to look like he had been doing what he had been, even though the Chief would know anyway. The Chief always knew about everything, which was why it was stupid not to tell the truth about Michael.

Adam took a final look in the mirror, then stood tall like a man and turned toward the door. He left the bathroom prepared to tell the Chief the truth, but Keller was talking to someone on his com when Adam returned to his chair.

Adam sat as the Chief finished his call.

“I have to go,” he said, looking across the table at Adam, no longer smiling. “Yes,” he added to whoever he was talking to on the other line.

The call went dead and the Chief looked at Adam, his face different than usual. Even harsher than before, as if brimming with anger.

“I’m afraid our time is up for today,” he said, though the Chief didn’t sound afraid, or sorry. “There is a situation near Barnes Square that requires my immediate attention.”

The Chief didn’t wait for Adam to respond. Or blink. He stood, pulled his uniform jacket from the back of his chair, put it on, and started buttoning it up as he walked toward the exit. The Chief seemed to expect Adam to follow.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He knows about Michael, and he knows what you did. This is your fault for being a coward. For not being loyal. For forgetting who saved you when you had to be saved.

The Chief turned to Adam in the doorway. “Yes, absolutely. The best way you can help me, and yourself—as well as The City and The State that support you—is to know your neighbors and report what you see. I can handle the problems in Barnes.”

The Chief smiled like he meant it, then turned from Adam and left. Adam was out of the restaurant two steps behind him, but the Chief was already far off in the parking lot. Adam wondered why Keller was being so cold to him. Treating him just like anyone else. Was he that distracted by the situation in Barnes? Or was he disgusted by Adam’s deception, so disgusted he couldn’t even look at Adam like he usually did?

Adam left the restaurant slumping his shoulders, head down, lost in thought as he began the two-block walk back to the Academy and his dorm.

Adam heard footsteps, quickly approaching from behind.

The dark sent a chill go up his spine.

Adam turned to see Michael running up beside him.

“So,” Michael said as he came to a stop. “Did you rat us out?”

Liam and Ana traveled in silence.

They were wide awake, too scared to sleep, so they kept going, aware but exhausted, moving forward like machines.

Or zombies.

Liam would’ve been happy to talk, but it was clear Ana didn’t want to.

She seemed angry rather than grateful that he had rushed the forest to save her. She seemed upset that he’d interrupted her from the important work of ending her life. He longed to hear Ana say something, wanted her to see that she didn’t have to die, and that he would do anything in the world to protect her until the last second.

Finally, Ana spoke.

“You should have let me die.”

“You shouldn’t be an idiot.”

Liam cursed himself for already ruining what had taken so long to start. He figured it would be a while before Ana spoke again.

He was wrong.

“We all have a right to decide exactly how long we want to live, Liam. And I’m done here. Why can’t you be OK with that? Why can’t you just let me die in peace? I’m a danger to you, and I’ll be a danger to Hydrangea if we get there.”

“
When
we get there,” he said. “And that’s bullshit. You’re just feeling sorry for yourself. I’m not going to help with your suicide. That doesn’t make sense.”

“It makes perfect sense. I’m half zombie already. You saw how those damned things acted around me! It’s only a matter of time before I’m one of them all the way, Liam, and trying to eat you.”

“Maybe,” he laughed, hoping to cut tension. “You should already be dead, but you’re not. I would be for sure if it wasn’t for you. I had one at my neck before you came through the forest. I was nearly bitten. But you came in and saved me! Don’t you realize what that means?”

“It means I saved your life, so you should let me do whatever the hell I want with mine.”

“No,” Liam laughed, “it means you’re like a half-zombie superhero. Like
Captain Republic: UNDEAD!
”

“Shut up,” she said, but Ana managed to laugh, her first in a while.

“Seriously though,” Liam said, “how did you know you wouldn’t be hurt?”

Ana said nothing. They walked for a few minutes before Liam finally said, “Oh … you didn’t
care
.”

“By gun or zombies.”

“Ana …”

She turned, slowly, and met Liam’s eyes. Everything about her seemed faded, mostly gone. What little was left seemed sad without end.

The moon was full, casting Ana in a white light that belied her dying. Despite hollow eyes and obvious sorrow, she somehow looked as beautiful to Liam as she ever had. Her look wasn’t just sad, it was sweet. There was something inside her—always had been—that was willing to believe in the impossible, and preserve what was right. That was the quality in Ana that Liam wanted to take care of most, the thing he most wanted to protect.

But that quality was dying.

“Yes?” Ana said, eyebrows raised, probably wondering what Liam wanted as he stared at her.

Her face flickered as if in memory. Her expression wrinkled, starting at her brow. With no warning she cried out, losing barely a whimper as she fell to the ground with her eyes closed.

Liam fell to her side, frantic and searching for her pulse. She was still alive, but Liam wasn’t sure what sort of alive that might mean.

“Ana?” he said, shaking her, trying to get any response.

Nothing.

She was unconscious. He wondered if she was turning for good. If so, he would have to do the one thing he didn’t know if he could, and give Ana the one thing she wanted from him.

Death.

Liam slipped his arms under her body, then stood, hefting Ana into his cradle, hoping to find somewhere he could lay her down before she grew too heavy.

After 20 minutes of trudging along with Ana in his arms, Liam found shelter: a small, fenced-in house, fashioned from wood and various materials from old cars, planes, and other detritus from The Barrens—the sort of house he had seen plenty during his time in the wastelands, built by people living lives, zombies be damned. Liam never would have seen the house if it wasn’t in a clearing by the water, easy to find under the full moon with no trees to hide it. Unlike many of the shelters they had stayed in during their time in The Barrens, this house looked lived in, nestled beside a river with two small canoes tied to the wooden dock in front.

Liam called out to see if anyone was home. No one answered. He would have to get closer; maybe someone was home, unable to hear him.

Liam laid Ana on the ground and started working on the fence. It wasn’t difficult—the enclosure was built to stop zombies, not humans. He swung the gate wide, then returned to the other side, scooped Ana back into his arms, and carried her to the front of the house, where he again called out to see if someone was home. The windows were boarded shut, but there were plenty of holes, and he could see no light source inside the home.

“Hello!” he yelled. “Is anyone here? We’re friends in need. My traveling companion is unconscious. We’re no trouble, just need a place to rest.”

After a long silence, he tried again.

“Hello?”

With Ana in his arms, he couldn’t knock, so he kicked instead, surprised—and relieved— when the door opened.

Liam was wrong; the house was abandoned. Everything wore a thin skin of dust. The furniture was well preserved, but it had clearly been awhile since the space was home to anyone. A carcass of something sat on a plate on the kitchen table, so old and dried that not even flies were interested.

Liam closed the door with his foot and crossed the small house to the corner, where a bed with a thin mattress stood, covered by a barely-there pillow and threadbare blanket. He kneeled, laying Ana on the bed, then pulled the blanket from beneath her and tossed it on the ground.

She was burning up, so he figured it wouldn’t be good to cover her.

He swept the hair from Ana’s face, then stood, not knowing what else to do other than check out the house.

Liam locked the door, set his bag down, and retrieved both his blaster and lead shooter and loaded them with ammo in case someone else stumbled upon their shelter.

He looked through cabinets searching for supplies, figuring no one would be missing anything. The Barren’s unspoken rules said that a house found with no one in it, where no one had been for a while, belonged (however temporarily) to those who found it–locked or otherwise. His search was brief and turned up little, but it was still enough to improve their morning. Liam found seven empty cabinets, but one that was filled with four boxes of supplies, each tin in the box stamped with the City 6 logo, and an entire shelf filled with water canisters.

Liam emptied the cabinet and set everything by the door, mostly so he had something to do, then dragged the kitchen table in front and found a small lantern with some fuel. He lit it and illuminated the cabin with the warmth of an orange glow. He hoped it wouldn’t be bright from the holes in the boarded-up windows, but he didn’t want to sleep in the dark again—not tonight.

He went to Ana’s bed, sprawled on the floor beside it, grabbed her hand (much cooler than it had been) and let himself fall asleep.

Liam woke in the darkness—the lantern’s wick had either gone dry or the fuel had burned out—to Ana growling beside him: the sound he’d been dreading since leaving Paradise.

It didn’t come from her mouth, that’s just where it left. The growl sounded like it was made of rocks and bone banging against one another on the bottom of a metal cage, starting in the pit of her gut, then clawing its way to the top of her throat before belching in fury. Liam had heard the sound in person too many times since losing his veil of safety behind The Walls, and had heard it countless times before that, starting when he could first decode the savagery of The Games during broadcasts and recaps. It was the sound of turning. It sometimes crept, more often erupted, and always meant the death of a soul and the start of its body’s torment, clinging to fibers of being, so thin and barely there they were like a tornado’s vapor.

Liam lay still, his body knotted and tense as Ana’s growling grew louder and harsher, less of a rattling hacking and more of a throaty bark. He didn’t want to get up, or look.

But he had to.

Liam stood, then looked down on Ana’s face, glad it was draped mostly by darkness, knowing he had to see the infection’s brutality no matter how much it hurt.

Liam grabbed his flashlight from the bag and shined it on Ana. She was waxen and still, growls still leaving her mouth, but somehow escaping her frozen body without leaving a tremble behind. Her face wasn’t yet warped like Liam expected, but she seemed somehow worse for it, icy and white and covered in sweat.

Like a corpse.

He shifted on his feet, thinking. Liam loathed the thought of what he had to do. He kneeled to his spot and picked up his gun, rubbing his thumb on the butt while wishing for miracles.

He felt a shuddering bubble in his depths, rising inside him, shaking his body and making him want to weep. He held it in because he couldn’t afford to be frail. Liam owed it to Ana—he had to stay strong enough for both of them, strong enough to do the unthinkable.

She was already dead, now they were just stretching agony like a rubber band.

Ana had begged him to kill her, but Liam wouldn’t listen. She tried doing it herself, and he stopped her. She pleaded for death, and he had selfishly kept it from her.

She wanted to die. Liam wouldn’t
let
her.

He put the gun to her head, his finger tensed on the trigger.

Do it.

Do it now.

Do it before she wakes.

Do it before she turns all the way.

Just.

Fucking.

Do.

It.

Liam’s fingers curled around the trigger’s metal. He started to squeeze, with the slightest of pressure, trying to force himself into action.

Do it!

He looked at her, tears streaking his cheeks, and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

He put the gun closer to her, and then—

Liam dropped the gun on the bed.

He fell to his knees, sobbing.

Ana stopped growling.

For a long moment, Liam watched, waiting for something to happen. He wondered if that was it and she was about to wake as a zombie. If so, could he pull the trigger then?

Then Ana made another sound.

Snoring.

Liam, foolish as he knew he was being, took it as a sign that her soul wasn’t yet lost to the monster inside. As long as that was true, he couldn’t bear to lose hope.

Liam fell asleep.

When he woke, everything was different.

Rays of dusty sunlight spilled into the house through the holes in the boarded windows. The light grazed Liam’s cheeks, warming him awake.

He opened his eyes and slowly sat up. He looked over at Ana, heart beating fast, certain she’d be dead or turned.

Liam’s body tensed, prepared to roll from harm’s way. Ana turned toward him, as if sensing his presence, then slowly blinked her bright eyes—awake, alert, and appearing … happy.

Her cheeks had color and she seemed strong. Her hair no longer looked dull, but instead almost as if she’d recently washed it.

Even her cheeks, which had looked hollow the night before, appeared fuller.

“Ana?” Liam said, unable to believe his eyes.

Impossibly, she laughed. “I feel amazing,” she said.

TO BE CONTINUED…