Contagion

^{CHAPTER THIRTEEN} FOUR

“What if you’d died?” Jenna asked him as they set off for the Imperial War Museum.

“No, Jenna.”

“But if you had. We were desperate back there, Jack. And I was scared. I felt naked, exposed.”

“There’s no way I’d ever infect you. I’d never do that to anyone, you least of all.”

“But it’s a gift! The things you can do, Jack. The amazing things.”

“I’ve killed people.” Stating it like that, stark and plain, brought the reality home to Jack once again. Previously it had been a memory that haunted him, but now it was a truth that had been hauled into the fading sunlight and laid bare.

“They were trying to kill us.” But Jenna spoke without conviction.

“I’ll explain it when all this is over,” Jack said.

“So we go closer to the museum,” Jenna said. “Those things are there. Lots of them, according to Rhali. Some of them are like the others we met—more monsters than people. They’re hungry. They attack us, we fight them off, you use some of your powers to smash them away or burn them or, I dunno, turn them into Muppets. But one gets through and kills you. You’re dead, Jack. Deader than Miller with his brains blown out, and deader than Lucy-Anne’s ghost brother. What happens then?”

“You do your best.”

“But if I had your powers, we’d have insurance!”

“No, Jenna! They were never mine to own, and they’re surely not mine to give.”

He loved Jenna. She was a pure, kind, intelligent girl. Her desire for him to pass on his contagion was, he knew, largely for the reasons she had stated. But he was also aware of how his friends viewed him with a mixture of fear and awe, and there was an element of desire in Jenna’s pleading as well. She wanted to be Wonder Woman to his Superman, and he supposed it was only natural.

“It’s selfish, Jack,” she said softly.

“No!” The others glanced back, but looked away again. Perhaps they could hear his conversation with Jenna, perhaps not. He didn’t care. “It’s the opposite of that. I have a weight on me that I can’t shake off, ever. And if by some tiny miracle we do what we’re trying to do and stop the explosion, and get out of London, what about me then? Have you thought about that?”

Jenna opened her mouth to speak, but then paused, and thought. Jack’s normal life was over. He would be exposed—an oddity, a freak, someone to be examined or pointed at in the street—or he would living forever in hiding.

“And it’s more than that,” he said. “Too much to tell you. But no, Jenna, much as I love you and however much you ask, I can’t curse you like that.”

She did not respond. Jack was glad.

Andrew joined them again half a mile from the museum. He emerged from shadows and Lucy-Anne’s heart fluttered, stealing her breath. Every time she saw him, grief hit home one more time.

“There are lots around the museum, and some inside,” he said. “But they know they can’t go inside. One tried, and the others killed her. There are traps everywhere, and the bomb’s sealed in a tank. They’re here to stop it, but they don’t know how.”

“We do,” Lucy-Anne said. For the first time since his return, she saw a flicker of what might have been emotion cross his face. He seemed briefly happy, and she thought it was happiness for her. He wanted his sister to survive.

“But it’s impossible to get close,” Andrew said. He looked at Jack. “For all of you together, at least.”

“Jack, maybe you could do what Fleeter does and carry Hayden inside,” Lucy-Anne said.

Jack shook his head. “It’s far too risky. When I carried Rhali out at Camp H we had a clear route, no distractions. And even then I hurt her. Here, I don’t know the way, and there are dangers all over. One wrong move and I could kill him. And what about the booby traps?”

They all turned to look at Hayden. The Chopper looked at the friends, and they could all see in his expression that he felt excluded and alone. But he also understood that with these people—the kids who had grown up too fast, the boy with amazing powers, the ghost—lay his only hope.

“I didn’t design the security, but I know the guys who did. They were briefed that once the bomb was armed and initiated, no one should be able to get close. So there are security measures, some linked to small explosive devices or toxic gas, a couple linked to Big Bindy itself.”

“What sort of measures?” Jack asked.

“Trip wires.”

“Easy,” Sparky said. “We go slow.”

“Infrared, air movement and body heat detectors, and lasers.”

“Right. Not so easy.”

“And some of them trigger the bomb?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, in case all the others fail or are breached. Open the tank it’s planted in and it blows. And the trigger mechanism in the bomb is contained in a vacuum chamber—expose it to the air, it blows.”

“Basically, fart anywhere south of the river and the bomb blows,” Sparky said.

“I’ve been there,” Andrew said. “Nomad is there also.”

“Well if she can get in…!” Jenna said, staring pointedly at Jack.

“Maybe,” he said. “Although she knows what powers she has, whereas I’m still feeling around for mine. Lots of trial and error. And besides, what good would it do if I could get in? A year ago I had trouble wiring a plug.”

They heard a sound in the distance, a cross between a growl and a bark. It came from no dog Lucy-Anne had ever imagined.

“We should wait,” she said. “Get off the road again and decide what we’re going to do. As it is we’re just marching towards the museum without a clue about what comes next. We need to come up with a plan.”

“We don’t have time,” Jenna said.

“We’ll only get one chance!” Lucy-Anne said. The cooling dusk air seemed to swirl about her as she spoke, as if in agreement. And then Fleeter stepped from the shadows and collapsed into the gutter.

“Shit!” Sparky said. “I wish she wouldn’t do that.”

Lucy-Anne was the first by her side, kneeling and reaching out for the strange girl. Even before she touched her she knew something was wrong.

“The sickness?” Jack asked. He sounded so childlike, so lost, that Lucy-Anne felt the burn of tears for her friend. But it was not the sickness.

“No,” she said. “I think she’s been shot.”

“Close,” Fleeter said. She held Lucy-Anne’s proffered hand and squeezed. “Explosion. Got hit…” She swept her other hand across her left hip and down her thigh, not quite touching. There was plenty of blood, although much of it was dried and sticky.

“Who is this?” Hayden asked.

“A Superior,” Jack said. “She’s killed dozens like you.”

Lucy-Anne saw the look of terror on Hayden’s face and could not help smirking. Really? Siding myself with Fleeter? It was a strange thought.

They helped her up and guided her into a deep doorway.

“What happened?” Jack asked Fleeter. “Where did you go? Have you been outside London again?”

“Tried,” she said, wincing at the pain. As she spoke Jenna cut her blouse from hip to armpit, revealed the wounds, and started tending them.

“And?”

“Went with Reaper and the others,” Fleeter continued. “I didn’t know if he’d have me back. But Reaper…he’s special to me. I guess you knew that, Jack. And I’m sorry. He still cares for you, too. There are parts of him that are so strong and determined, and I always felt—”

“I don’t need telling what a bastard my father’s become,” Jack said. “You came back to us for a reason, so just tell us what happened.”

“We tried to get out,” she said. “Me, Reaper, Shade, Puppeteer, Scryer, a few others you’ve not seen or met. It was down to me and Shade to set some distractions.”

“We saw some of them,” Lucy-Anne said, remembering the plunging helicopter seen in the north.

“We went south,” Fleeter continued. She winced, Jenna apologised and continued cleaning her wounds. “I went ahead and scouted our route, and it seemed safe. Returned to Reaper and the others. We set off. But I must have set off an alarm of some sort. As we crossed the Exclusion Zone we hit a rapid deployment patrol.”

“Nothing like that seems to have bothered Reaper in the past,” Lucy-Anne said. “I saw him take down a helicopter with a shout.”

“And I’ve seen him do so much more than that,” Fleeter said.

“Not too bad,” Jenna said, standing. “A few nasty cuts that should be stitched. No shrapnel in you that I can find.

Fleeter nodded her thanks.

“So what went wrong this time?” Jack asked.

“They had something,” Fleeter said. “A gas, maybe. It was like…” She trailed off and looked at Jack. “You won’t have felt it yet. The weakness. The sickness.”

“We’ve seen enough of it,” Lucy-Anne said.

“It seemed to boost the illness. I’ve felt it, and every time I flip I feel it more. But whatever they used on us made it all so much worse. And while we were down, they attacked.”

“Who got away?” Jack asked, his voice flat. He wants to know if his father is dead, Lucy-Anne thought. And though Reaper was a beast, a killer, and no longer anything approaching a father to Jack and his sweet sister, she so hoped that he was still alive.

“Puppeteer was already dead when we came around,” she said. “I think the illness was quite advanced in him, and whatever they used on us pushed him over the edge. We fought, but we were weakened. I flipped but couldn’t move…I was as still as everything else around me. Reaper shouted, but knocked himself down. He became enraged. He has such pride, Jack, in what he can do, and suddenly losing control drove him mad.”

“Madder,” Sparky said.

“By then there were reinforcements coming in, on land and in the air. Choppers, scores of them, but they weren’t shooting to kill. They were trying to capture us. So we fought. They had Scryer, but she got free and ran. They shot her, then. I saw her go down, and she must have been hit by twenty bullets. Tore her apart. Shade disappeared and I haven’t seen him since. Reaper retreated, and for a time he and I were together. We ran through the streets, and I could feel his fury and pain. Then I tripped and fell, hit my head, and when I came around I was on my own.”

“He left you,” Jack said.

“Perhaps he thought I was dead.” She sounded so sad to Lucy-Anne, because she did not believe that at all.

“Sounds like they were taking their last chance to catch you,” Jack said. “Maybe when this is over they still want subjects to experiment on. So they didn’t follow you in to London?”

“No, I don’t think so. I wandered for a while, then Reaper came to me again. He’d found Shade by then, and also Haru, the ice lady. And he told me what we had to do.”

“Find us again,” Jack said.

Fleeter nodded. She looked pale and alone, and Lucy-Anne almost felt sorry for her. “If the Superiors can’t get out, what hope do we have?” Lucy-Anne asked.

“None,” Sparky said.

“It doesn’t matter,” Rhali said. “We’re out of time anyway. Fleeing London isn’t our aim anymore.” She pointed at Hayden. “It’s all on him.”

“Reaper’s coming, Jack,” Fleeter said. “Him, Shade, Haru. And me. We’re all behind you, now. We’ve tried to fight. We’ve tried violence, and it didn’t work. Stopping the bomb is the only way.”

Jack did not respond. He was frowning, looking into a distance none of them could see, and perhaps seeing a future none of them wanted to see.

“I don’t trust him at all,” he said at last. “And I don’t trust you.”

“But I came back to—”

“We move on,” Jack said. “Fleeter, I can’t stop you coming with us. And I won’t. But we’re not going to sit and wait for whatever plans Reaper might have for us now. If we meet him, so be it. But we go.”

“Yeah,” Sparky said.

“Absolutely,” Jenna said.

Rhali nodded her head. Even Andrew seemed to agree, his visage blurring with a half-smile.

“Lucy-Anne?” Jack asked.

“We go,” she said. She looked at Hayden. He shrugged his backpack higher, and the tools inside rattled.

“Just get me to the bomb as quickly as you can,” he said. “I’ll do my best to do the rest.”

Jack was curious as to exactly what had been used against the Superiors. He had little doubt that whatever it was had been developed from Miller’s vivisection of those infected by Evolve, but whether it worked against the developing illness—or perhaps even caused it—was something that would have great impact in the future. Miller had said that the illness affecting many of those with talents was a side-effect of Evolve, but it could just as easily have been something Miller had created himself, whatever he claimed.

But the future where this would matter was far, far distant. The immediate future was less than four hours long. His injuries burned, eye throbbing, and he had yet to fully assess the damage done. But there was no time even for that.

As they approached the Imperial War Museum, Rhali used her gift to warn them of movement ahead. And there was plenty. Andrew also went ahead to scout their route, and he returned several times with tales of creatures wandering the streets. They were all heading in the same direction—towards the museum.

Jack sought ways to communicate with those things they would face. He did his best to think of them as human, although forcibly evolved far from what he understood human to be. But after everything he had seen, he also thought of them as monsters. Like Reaper, they looked down upon the Irregulars as way below them, insignificant as insects to an elephant. Unlike Reaper, they ate them.

His efforts frustrated him. His talents were many, but not endless. And search though he did, he could not perceive a way to touch those creatures from the north.

“We all want the same thing!” he said to Rhali. “They’ve come down here because of the bomb, though none of them can stop it. And even though perhaps we can, I just don’t know how to tell them that.”

“Can’t you just talk to them?”

“You’ve seen some of what I’ve seen. I think they’re beyond conversation.”

Lucy-Anne had already shared with him what she knew of them from her time in the north. They looked wild, but carried a startling intelligence. They were vicious and brutal, but organised as well, sometimes hunting in packs for some of the scarcest food there was—humans.

Jack had asked what they ate in the north, and it had been Andrew who offered the answer. I only saw it once but…think of farms where humans keep cattle. More than that, you don’t want to know.

And so close to the museum they called a halt again, hiding behind the innocent facade of a restaurant window, watching darkness fall outside and wondering what to do.

“Nomad is still inside?” Jack asked.

“She showed no sign of wishing to be anywhere else,” Andrew replied. He seemed to flicker before Jack, like reality wavering in and out of focus.

“If she can get in, so can I,” Jack said. “Maybe that is the first thing to do. I’ll go inside, look at everything, try and find a way in for Hayden.”

“But how can you get past everything Hayden says they have in there, even with your talents?”

“Nomad did.”

“Nomad’s almost a dream,” Lucy-Anne said.

Jack’s frustration was growing. Blessed or cursed with such powers, still he sat in an Indian restaurant where no one had eaten for two years, curled menus and neat place settings taunting him with the normality that was no more.

“Maybe Reaper had the right idea,” he said quietly. “A distraction. Not for the Choppers, but for these things around the museum. Draw them away so that Hayden can get inside. Work on the traps. See what he can do. He’s the tech guy, after all. Get into the tank and start dismantling the bomb.”

“Me and Sparky,” Jenna said.

“No,” Jack said.

“But—”

“No! You’ll be killed. They’ll catch you easily. No, it has to be me and Fleeter. We’re the distraction, you get Hayden inside, then I’ll meet you back at the museum.”

“You’re taking on an awful lot yourself,” Lucy-Anne said. “Why don’t you let—”

“Where’s Rhali?” Jenna asked.

As he stood from the chair he’d taken and moved to the front window, Jack already knew. No, he tried to say, but his mouth was suddenly dry.

He saw Rhali just as she disappeared around the junction at the end of the street, heading for the museum. She’s going to get herself killed! he thought. But at the same time he realised that whatever happened when they pursued Rhali could be the distraction they needed. And she knew that.

“Fleeter!” Jack said, readying himself to flip and go to Rhali’s aid.

And then all hell broke loose.