Exposure

by Kathy Reichs

“I got nothing,” Ben said.

  “Same.” Shelton and Hi. Jinx.

  “Rotate sectors clockwise,” I said. “We’ll watch this a million times if we have to. There has to be something.”

  “Won’t the police already be doing this?” Shelton asked. “With, like, professional editing equipment, and a video expert?”

  “You ready to give up on these two?” I touched the image frozen on the monitor.

  “No.” Shelton shoved his glasses into place. “No, I’m not.”

  We watched again. Rotated once more, and repeated the process.

  I was scanning the southwest section of the screen when a thought struck me.

  “Those bars look old,” I said. “Like they’ve been there forever.”

  Hi nodded. “Good point. This . . . cage likely wasn’t built for this kidnapping.”

  “Run it again,” Ben said. “Everyone examine the bars.”

  The scene replayed.

  “Holy crap!” Hi yelped.

  “What?” I said immediately.

  “Shadow!” Hi jabbed a finger at the center of the screen.

  Shelton turned to face Hi. “Say what?”

  “Run it half speed. Watch as the cameraman crosses the room. There!”

  Hi was right. As the shot moved, a shadow briefly appeared on the floor, lengthened, then shrank back and disappeared.

  “That’s the kidnapper!” Then my spirits sank. “But how does a shadow help?”

  “If we can isolate it,” Hi said excitedly, “we could conceivably estimate the person’s height and weight, maybe even gender. It’s a place to start, at least.”

  I clapped my hands. “LIRI has amazing AV equipment—half the visiting researchers film documentaries of their work.”

  “What’s that?” Ben pointed to a bar at the edge of the shot. With the tape paused, the chamber’s background light was striking the steel at an oblique angle. Squiggly lines ran a foot of its length.

  My pulse thumped. “Is that writing?”

  Shelton boxed and enlarged the image. “It is! But I still can’t read it.”

  We strained our eyes. Manipulated the image this way and that. Even considered flaring. But the grainy squiggles wouldn’t form anything legible.

  I pounded the desktop in frustration. “We need to see those words.”

  “We’ll have better luck at LIRI,” Hi promised. “We can play around with their equipment and really enhance the shot.”

  “Tomorrow,” I said firmly. “Right after school.”

  “If we’re gonna do that,” Shelton said, “then let’s check Karsten’s files now.”

  “Good idea.” I handed over the CD from Chang.

  Shelton inserted the disk and opened the drive. A directory listed hundreds of files.

  “Wow,” Hi said.

  “This might take a while,” Shelton agreed.

  My arms crossed. I’d waited too long for this moment.

  “Then we’d better get started.”

  • • •

  “This is pointless,” Ben complained.

  5:30 AM. We’d been skimming files for three straight hours.

  I could barely keep my eyes open, but snapped at Ben nonetheless. “This is what we’ve been searching for—the entire record of Karsten’s parvovirus experiments!”

  “Which we can’t make any sense of,” Ben fired back.

  Hi rubbed his face. “I mean, it’s all interesting. Lab cultures. Data sets. Karsten’s research protocols and stated objectives. But most of this material is way beyond me.”

  Shelton nodded wearily. “It’s great to understand the mechanics of what Karsten did, but I can’t see how it helps us. Our infection was unanticipated. Totally unplanned. There won’t be a record of that, which is what we really need.”

  “This stuff helps, though.” I stole the mouse and double-clicked a file. “Here. Karsten emphasizes that XPB-19 is contagious to humans. He knew!”

  “How does that help?” Ben demanded. “How do we use any of this information? Without Karsten to explain his work, these files might as well be written in Chinese. They’re useless.”

  “We don’t know that.” Voice stubborn. “There are hundreds of pages here, and we’ve barely skimmed half of them.”

  “These aren’t the records we need! You want answers, Victoria?” Ben made air quotes with his fingers. “Well, here’s some real talk: In order for this data to be any use, we’d have to have a basis for comparison. We’d need records of our current condition, right now. That means submitting ourselves to medical testing, by someone who knows what they’re looking for. That sound good to you?”

  I bit my tongue, suddenly discouraged.

  Ben continued, relentless, biting off his words. “Unless you’re ready to throw on a white gown and become a full-time lab rat, these files are totally useless. End of story.”

  I stared daggers at Ben, who glared back.

  My God. Is he right? Have I been fooling myself all along?

  Hi raised both palms. “It’s almost dawn, guys. Let’s call it a day before we kill each other. We can get back to this tomorrow.”

  I tore my gaze away. Nodded sharply.

  This had been one of the longest days of my life. I was exhausted.

  We crawled outside and piled into the Explorer. Ben drove in silence. Nearing the complex, he switched off his headlights. Dropped us off fifty yards away. Then he sped down the blacktop, heading off the island.

  Shelton, Hi, and I crept to the rear of the building. Mouthing good-byes, we split up and slunk toward our respective units.

  At the back door, I dug out my phone and deactivated the house alarm. Slipped inside.

  Coop was standing in his doggie bed when I reached the main floor.

  Maybe I was tired. I missed the signal.

  Turning the corner, I ran smack into Whitney at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Tory!” Her eyes widened. Then, taking in my clothes, narrowed.

  Whitney’s arms crossed over her white satin robe. “Sneaking out again? Your father is going to explode!”

  My sluggish mind groped for an excuse. Struck out.

  I stood there, gaping like an idiot.

  Whitney was right—Kit was going to murder me.

  Panicking, I blurted the first thing that came to mind.

  “Please don’t tell! I was meeting a boy.”

  Why did I say that!?!

  Whitney’s eyes nearly popped from her skull.

  “A boy?” she hissed. “At this hour?! Who on earth—”

  “Jason Taylor.”

  It felt like someone else was speaking. My mind was a melted slushy, suggesting ideas it thought Whitney might enjoy.

  Whitney paused. Frowned. Finally, “Very well. I won’t tell your daddy, but this does not happen again, young lady. Do you hear me?”

  I nodded, too tired to process what was happening. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

  Then I gave her a quick hug. Whitney, tensed, then returned it.

  For some reason, I felt bad.

  You’re manipulating her to get out of trouble.

  “Now up with you!” Whitney shook her head. “It’s nearly dawn already, and you won’t be missing school tomorrow.”

  I nodded. Climbed to my room.

  My reserves were gone.

  I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

  Thursday

  Morning came way too soon.

  “Ghaaah.” I slapped my alarm clock, hoping it would break.

  Head pounding. Nasty taste in mouth. Eyes glued shut.

  I’d never felt more drained.

  My door swung open. Whitney stuck her head inside.

  “Rise and shine,” she said coolly. “I’ll expect you
downstairs for breakfast in twenty minutes. No exceptions.” She withdrew with a knowing glance.

  Our encounter an hour before came crashing back. Nightmare.

  Why in the world had I mentioned Jason? How long would she hold her tongue?

  From this moment forward, I’m at her mercy.

  The thought made me want to crawl under my covers and never resurface. I imagined the day ahead, and the long hours before I could sleep.

  “Blargh.”

  • • •

  Sixty minutes later I was in uniform, aboard Hugo, and motoring toward downtown.

  I sprawled on a bench in the stern, staring at our trail of wake.

  Face slack. Mind numb. Body exhausted.

  Shelton sat beside me, head in his hands. We hadn’t exchanged two words. Hi was inside the passenger cabin, flat on his back and dozing.

  My thoughts wandered. I replayed the horrifying ransom tape in my head. Composed a silent prayer for Lucy and Peter.

  We’d put the Gamemaster behind bars, but a new evil had taken his place. I felt swamped with hopelessness. The world was dark, and full of monsters.

  My focus drifted to Karsten’s secret files. Ben’s angry words.

  Was he right? Was the information on the flash drive useless? I was forced to admit he’d made a compelling argument. Karsten wouldn’t have any notes specifically pertaining to our condition.

  Don’t give up hope. Work the problem, and good things will come.

  But I was zonked. Just wanted to sleep. To shut the world off. Check out.

  An idea bloomed. Drained as I was, I didn’t immediately dismiss it.

  I straightened in my seat. Why not?

  Because it might be hazardous, my rational mind shot back. Because it’s exactly what you were blasting Ben about, which makes you a total hypocrite.

  But both logic and pride were sorely overmatched.

  I was dog-tired. Miserable. If my canine DNA could provide some relief, I wanted it.

  Stupid stupid stupid.

  Deep breath. Eyes shut.

  SNAP.

  The power scorched through me. I tried to hide the transformation from Shelton, fighting to keep still as my body thundered and raged.

  As the flare unleashed, my weariness fled. The headache disappeared. Energy infused my muscles. My mind sharpened along with my senses. It felt wonderful.

  This is bad. Dangerous.

  At that moment, I didn’t care. Just sighed with pleasure.

  “Tory! Are you crazy?!”

  Shelton shoved his sunglasses onto my face.

  I started, suddenly aware of how careless I’d been. My eyes scanned the boat. Thankfully, no other passengers were on deck.

  Shelton’s gaze bored into me. “Has everyone lost their minds lately?”

  “Sorry, you’re right. But, Shelton, my fatigue just . . . melted away. I feel great.”

  “Really?” His expression grew hopeful. “Okay, watch my back.”

  I slipped on my shades and handed his back. Shelton swapped them with his eyeglasses.

  “This feels wrong.”

  “I know.” But I held my flare anyway.

  Shelton’s thin frame shuddered. He gasped, grabbed his head.

  Slowly, his breathing eased. Shelton’s head came up, a smile spreading his lips.

  “I take it back. This feels fantastic.”

  “Which worries me. Flaring is becoming addictive.”

  The cabin door opened and Hi stepped out. He stared as though we’d grown horns.

  “I knew it.” He joined us on the bench. “Explain yourselves.”

  “Light one up,” I said ruefully. “You’ll understand.”

  His eyebrows rose, but Hi dug out his shades. Seconds later, he gasped as the inferno erupted inside him.

  “Ahhhh.” Hi linked his hands behind his head. “That’s nice. Does this mean we don’t need to sleep anymore?”

  “Of course not.” Exactly the thinking I feared. “I’m no flare expert—who is?—but I know everything comes with a price. When you burn energy, it’s gone. Freeing the wolf probably taps a hidden reserve. Useful, obviously, but we can’t cheat the laws of physics just by using our powers.”

  “I don’t know, Tor.” Hi tapped his feet. “I feel pretty damn super right now.”

  “This is what Ben was talking about,” Shelton added.

  My head whipped. “Huh?”

  Shelton’s fingers found his ear. “Nothing. Just something he mentioned.”

  I glanced at Hi, who looked away.

  “Boys?” I stood and faced them. “Something to share?”

  “It was a secret.” Hi aimed a kick a Shelton, who dodged easily. “Ben made us swear not to tell you.”

  I crossed my arms. Waited.

  “Ben flares first thing every morning,” Shelton said. “He says it centers him. Makes him strong. He said we should do it, too.”

  Hi shrugged. “Maybe he’s right. Right now, tell me you don’t feel great. I might go beat someone up.”

  “No.” I felt certain. “Ben is being incredibly reckless.”

  Hi spread his hands. “Right now, who are we to judge?”

  Ouch. Hi had a point.

  “Snuff ’em,” I ordered. “Now.”

  SNUP.

  The power vanished. I nearly groaned at the loss.

  Still, I felt better than before. Some lethargy crept back, but not much. I couldn’t deny that flaring had chased away most of my exhaustion.

  But I didn’t trust it.

  Nothing is that easy. Every action has consequences.

  Hi and Shelton removed their sunglasses.

  “I feel fresher,” Hi said. “Fact is fact. Maybe Ben’s not as crazy as you think.”

  “Ben’s gambling blindfolded,” I said firmly. “He’s gone way too far. Flaring in public. Flaring for pleasure. Flaring just to face the day! He’s totally out of control, taking risks we all might suffer for. It has to stop.”

  Shelton slid his prescription specs onto his nose. “So what are you going to do?”

  “Talk some sense into him. Right now.”

  • • •

  I took a city bus from the marina to Mount Pleasant, then connected to a local line. A few more stops, and I was standing outside Wando High.

  Which was crazy.

  Hi and Shelton would cover for me at Bolton, but I didn’t have a clue where to find Ben. This was not the greatest plan ever concocted.

  I have to talk to him. Things have gotten out of hand.

  I was testing various excuses to summon Ben from class when I spotted him.

  Ben was loitering in the parking lot, chatting with two other guys. He wore his standard black tee and jeans. His taller companion sported a purple ski cap despite the eighty-degree weather, while the other boy had an inch-thick wallet chain hanging from his cargo shorts.

  “Cutting class,” I muttered. “That idiot.”

  Ben did a double-take when he spotted me, then slowly shook his head. As I drew near, he whispered something under his breath. His moron buddies exploded in laughter.

  I’ll kill him. Then murder him afterward.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Not the most diplomatic of greetings, but my temper was long gone. “Is your first class Parking Lot Maintenance?”

  Ben waved a hand at me. “You see what I mean?”

  Wallet Chain chuckled as he toked a cigarette. “That’s not very nice, sweetheart.”

  “You’ll never land a man like that,” added Ski Cap. “This ain’t Beantown.”

  “Ben?” Seething. “May I speak to you privately?”

  Ben rolled his eyes. “Give me a sec, guys. I’ve been naughty.”

  I waited until the stoners were out of ears
hot.

  “Great crew you’ve assembled.” Dripping with sarcasm.

  “Leave them out of this,” Ben warned. “What, I can’t even have friends, now that I’ve been kicked from the Ivory Tower?”

  “Maybe go to class. You might find a better peer group in there.”

  Ben snorted. “I’m pretty sure you have class right now, too.”

  Touché.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “We’re packmates and all, but you’re not my mother. I’ve already got one of those, thanks.”

  I took a calming breath. Yelling at Ben would get me nowhere.

  “Hi and Shelton told me you’ve been flaring every morning. To feel good.” Hiding my guilt at having just done the same.

  It was . . . an experiment. I won’t do it again. I won’t!

  Ben snorted, tucking his long black hair behind his ears. “Remind me to compliment their secret-keeping skills.”

  “Ben!” I forced him to meet my eyes. “That can’t be a good idea.”

  “Why not? For all we know, flaring might be the healthiest thing ever. We don’t know.” He pointed a finger. “You don’t know.”

  Valid point. But my instincts were clear.

  I chose a different tack. “Every time you flare in public, you put our lives in danger. Not just your own. Mine. Hi’s. Shelton’s. The whole pack, Ben.”

  “I’m careful.” Dismissive. “You might not believe this, Victoria, but I’m not an idiot.”

  “Then don’t act like one! Show some restraint. Show some character.”

  I regretted the last word even as I spoke it.

  “Oh, I see.” Ben looked away. “This is still about what I did.”

  “No, it isn’t.” Was it?

  “I’ve apologized.” Ben scuffed the pavement with a shoe. I could feel him shutting down. “A hundred times. I can’t make you accept it.”

  My lips froze. No words came.

  I didn’t know what to say. Honestly didn’t know if I’d forgiven him.

  Ben looked me square in the eye. “I can’t undo my mistakes,” he said quietly. “No one can. If you can’t get past it, there’s nothing more to say.”

  He turned and headed for the building.

  “Ben. Wait.”

  He didn’t stop. In seconds I was alone in the parking lot.

  “Damn it.”

  Walking back to the bus stop, I was more upset than ever. This trip had accomplished nothing. I might’ve screwed things up even worse.