"I'm sure you've probably already had your suspicions about what was really going on. You and the others are a smart bunch- surely one of you had begun to piece together the puzzle. I wouldn't be surprised if it was you or Mr. Bradley, as both of you were excellent in biomedical courses."
She felt her blood run cold. How could Yancey possibly know that? Her eyes connected with Carson's from across the room, easily detecting the fear in his eyes.
"Carson, did you tell him anything?" she asked quickly.
"No." he responded firmly.
"Then how do you know? Did you pull my academic files, trying to see what you were up against?" She shouted at Yancey, her commanding tone back in her voice.
"You, Miss Claire, have been observed from a very early age. You, as well as Bradley, McGrew, O'Dell and White are all special. You were vital pieces of the puzzle before the puzzle even had a picture."
She looked to Carson, scanning his face for any clues. Had he known? Surely not, he would have told her. Her suspicions were only confirmed, as he looked as shocked as she did.
"But, of course, neither of you would be able to figure out why if I didn't tell you the whole story, and at this point I might as well. With Miss Claire so hellbent on killing me here, well, classification is no longer important." Yancey continued, his eyes flickering between Shay and Carson.
"So tell us the story. I'd like to know why I've been watched all my life!" she barked at him.
Yancey cracked his knuckles, looking rather hesitant. She could do nothing but speculate what was about to be revealed, but she couldn't imagine a single scenario in which anything positive would come to light. Did my parents know? Mom and Dad would never let someone watch me for my entire life. I wasn't being evaluated, was I?
"I'm sure you know the basis of what I'll be telling you- The Blue Plague is an engineered population control virus, you're its Carriers. Truth is, well, it's far more complicated than that. I can only guess what kind of wild theories all of you had running through your heads, but some of them might actually be right," he said calmly, completely at ease. She couldn't help but feel suspicious of his intentions, even if she doubted he was lying. He's going to drop some bomb on me to get under my skin, screw with my brain and get me when I'm weak. I can't let him in.
"It's about what exactly it's engineered to do, isn't it?" She asked, silently cursing herself for asking the question.
"We'll get to that, believe me, but it makes more sense if we start from the very beginning."
"You don't have all day, Yancey." He grinned at her, almost as if he was challenging her statement.
"It's surprising how sometimes something so monstrous starts out innocently." He paused and stared at her, the ghost of his smirk wiped on his face. She bit back a sharp remark, knowing it would do her no good. "And that's exactly the case with BP-v01, or The Blue Plague, as it's more commonly known. Genetic engineers and doctors were working on a viral procedure to alter eye color in 1997. They developed BP-v01, expecting it to go dormant after the job had been done. That did not happen- within three days all the trial patients were complaining of terrible migraines no dosage of painkillers seemed to be able to relieve. Concerned, the team brought them back in and monitored them. All seemed fine until around the seventh day, when all eight patients dropped like flies. Massive brain hemorrhage, COD on every one."
Shay thrummed her fingers against the metal of her gun, struggling to keep her attention where it belonged. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Well, they made an error. Errors don't lead to a population control virus."
"This error wasn't overlooked, however. It was brought to the attention of a committee of doctors, genetic engineers and scientists from all over the world. They'd been discussing the need for a population control virus for some time, and had come to the agreement ten billion was the max. They had everything but a virus. It needed the perfect combination of lethality, communicability, and cure resistance. They were well aware it would take years, maybe even decades, to perfect it, but they were ready, and agreed BP-v01 showed the most potential."
She shot a look at a Carson, catching the apprehension that danced in his eyes. Both of them could sense the direction in which it was heading and neither of them it liked it. It's only going to go downhill from here. Whatever he tries to throw at you, be ready for.
"So the conspiracy began, but, if you want to get technical, it began the minute they founded the committee. Conspiracies are built on lies, and the foundation of that committee was about as truthful as the snake in the Garden of Eden. Those people had to pull strings, threaten, bribe, blackmail and kill to keep their project out of the loop. They lied about the population, always keeping the world two billion or so off from the truth. They were almost exposed more than once."
"I don't care about all this stuff. I want to know why I'm a Carrier!" She barked, sounding horridly selfish.
"But can't you see that their connected, Miss Claire?" Yancey replied, his voice low. "You wouldn't be able to understand why otherwise."
"Then get to it."
"Fine. So, naturally, America volunteered to do a good chunk of the work, as it was our virus anyways. They had their sights set on about fifteen doctors, genetic engineers and scientists in each state to join the force. Some, of course, were easier to pull in than others. They weren't going to give up easily, however, and developed a bribe- a vaccine."
"Where the hell is it now?" She shouted, jutting her gun towards him. "We could stop this plague with it, nobody else would have to die!"
"They destroyed it in 2004, shortly after being administered to the final patient."
It was like a blow to the face. She'd allowed hope to grow inside, a fool hearted belief she could be cured. She exhaled slowly, trying to bite back a cry of anguish. There was no hope now- she'd live, and die, a Carrier. It was her initial thought, no matter how selfish. Thinking of the lives it would save would have come shortly after, if the bomb had not been dropped on her hopes.
"The vaccine was offered to those more difficult to recruit, the ones with their moral ambiguity still intact. The vaccines were not, however, meant for the adults, but their children. A single vaccine promised for their child- how could they turn it down? Most begrudgingly accepted, but a parent's love is one not easily broken. I would know- I gave in."
"Makes since you'd get invited to a party for sociopaths," Carson muttered.
"Carson. Shut up." Shay warned, shooting him a glance. "It's not the time."
Yancey smirked, seemingly indifferent to the insult. You can't be insulted if you know it's what you are, she thought carefully, watching him with a mistrusting stare. But that doesn't mean it won't piss him off.
"You might be thinking, was it really worth it? Giving one child immunity while working towards something meant to kill billions? It wasn't, because they created a catch. The children would be immune, as promised, but they twisted it. They were not just immune."
"They were Carriers," Carson finished, his jaw clenched in nervousness.
"Exactly. It was a way to get back at them for initially refusing. Those children were doomed from the moment the needle pierced their skin- they knew how dangerous the lives of the Carriers would be. It was almost a no-brainer most of them would be killed. Punishment."
"I was vaccinated, wasn't I?" Shay and Yancey both turned to stare at Carson. A small, strangled cry escaped her throat as a smirk formed on the older man's lips, gradually turning into a chuckle. "When I was four my Dad gave me a bunch of shots and I got really, really sick after. My mom was furious, told him he'd exposed me to something. He told her it was mono. I never questioned it until now."
Shay almost choked. She remembered her mother administering shots to her four year old daughter, holding her arm firmly as the needle pierced skin. Then there was the sickness. It was a faint memory, one that seldom resurfaced, but she remembered. Her mother claimed it was mono. She'd promised that Graceyn, just under two years th
en, would be safe. The realization hit her like a bullet as the pieces all came together in her mind. The shock was raw, bringing her hands to shake around her weapon. This isn't happening. She never, she never would have done something like that. Surely not. No.
"We're both vaccinated, aren't we?" she said slowly, her voice quaking. Her mother and his father- they'd worked together, creating the virus that turned their children into monsters.
"Yes. Melissa Claire and Andrew Bradley were difficult to recruit, if it makes you feel any better. McGrew's mother, O'Dell's absentee father and White's grandfather all worked alongside your parents."
"So that means they're vaccinated too?" she rallied back, now more desperate for answers than she was before. She understood the incentive, at least slightly, but still could not grasp the idea as to why. Her mother was a good woman- surely she would have never willingly agreed to create something so sinister. But she did it to save me.
"Yes. As for the rest of your group, I suppose they had the genetic markers we designed it to look for."
"Genetic markers?"
"Yes. You didn't really think we'd create a virus to just infect at random, do you? Even if you want to shave off a couple billion people, you don't want to take the risk you kill all those people that contribute to society. You want to eliminate the people that threw our world into chaos: the criminals, the liars, the selfish and the stupid. There is, however, no way to weed out criminals and the other bastards with a virus, but there is a way to pinpoint genes that lead to criminals."
Marena, wherever you are, I'm so damn sorry I never listened to you. I suppose I was just in denial- you know how damn stubborn I am. You were right all along. She had to force back a sob, knowing this was not the time to grieve. She had never been allowed a mourning period, for everything was happening so fast she had no time to be in despair. There were people who relied on her, and she had to deliver.
"What were the markers, Yancey?" She growled through gritted teeth.
"Mental illness was a no-brainer. High murder rates can be trimmed down with elimination of the basket cases."
"You won't get them all- perfectly sane people kill, and not all mental disorders have a distinct gene." Carson pointed out. "You might be able to kill a few schizophrenics, but the engineering seems pretty flimsy."
"You didn't let me finish, Bradley," Yancey hissed. "The first thing they put the researchers to was searching for a gene the committee believed to exist, and agreed it would be crucial to the virus's foundation. Around 2006 they discovered genetic markers for intelligence, a foolproof way to weed out the unintellectual. After the first two they settled on a third, genes that made people prone to certain diseases, such as cancer, diabetes, or an array of genetic disorders. They had a vision and they knew what they had to do to obtain it, no matter how inhumane. If you had the intelligence markers but not the ones for diseases, both mental and physical, you'd become immune or a Carrier upon infection."
"What exactly was that vision? That's not inhumane, that's straight up fucked. Since, obviously, you people based it off genes; it's not fair to the person. They can't control what they're born with- and now they're dying for it." She hissed, reaffirming her grip on the gun.
"The committee and the people who worked for them envisioned a better world. With crime, murder, unemployment, mortality, teen pregnancy and poverty at an all-time high it was getting harder and harder to turn cheek to the world around us. Terrorism was on the rise. A third world war has almost broken out several times over the years. We could have waited for humanity to simply kill itself off, but we were thinking of the big picture. Imagine a smarter, healthier and stronger human race. With the brightest of the bright working together we'd see rapid technological advances. With the right minds in the world, and so many people gone, what need would there be for war? No person would have to go hungry. We'd have more than enough to feed a largely reduced population. That's what the committee and the team saw, that's why they did what they did. We would no longer have the insane or the idiotic to hold our race back. Humanity could reach their full potential."
"My father would have never agreed to it!" Carson spat. Shay remained silent. The image she had of her mother had just been shattered, replaced by a lying, twisted woman. Melissa Claire had always been preachy, throwing a fit when her daughter let a curse word slip or reminding her to save herself for marriage. She was not the kind of woman one would expect to do such a thing.
"Did you?" She spoke up, narrowing her eyes in Yancey's direction.
"No. They wanted me, and they promised to save Selena, but that was never the reason why I joined. I and some of the others saw an opportunity to turn our lives around, turn the virus into our bitch. We dropped out after a few years and wormed our way into Homeland Security, eventually getting a special branch I was appointed head of. We watched all the children who had been vaccinated, gradually pushing them into one city per their state of residence. We were always one step ahead- we'd know which cities the Carriers would be spilling out of. We could stop them, stop the virus, become more famous and respected than we ever dreamed."
"Sick bastard," she muttered under her breath.
"Speak up, would you Miss Claire?" Yancey cooed, his malicious smirk returning.
"Sick bastard," she growled, locking her eyes with his.
"It was a good idea, but I got tired of waiting. I wanted it to happen now, so I got into contact with one of you."
Shay froze. She looked directly to Carson, scanning him for any sign of guilt. He looked just as stunned as she.
"You look shocked, Miss Claire. Seeing as you've come without your charges, I doubt it would hurt to rat them out. I got into contact with Katrina O'Dell after learning your high school would be taking a fieldtrip to the new CDC. I bribed her, claiming I'd make her immune if she led Shay Claire, Carson Bradley, Marena McGrew and Owen White into the room you all became infected. I'm surprised it never crossed your minds how she simply 'slipped past' a worker. Everything was arranged so it could go as planned. Laylia Perry, Jaycee Frank, Kyleigh Abercrombie and Cassie Willis were never supposed to be in that room with you."
"So you mean to tell me Kyleigh is a genius?" Carson then began to chuckle, obviously humored.
"Our engineering wasn't perfect. She is the prime example of a fluke."
A burning question pressed down onto her, one she couldn't seem to shake. It was the wrong moment to ask, especially a question as self-centered as it was, but Yancey was the only one who could give her answers. She could never go home, especially now.
"If I hadn't been vaccinated, would I have died?" She blurted, her eyes instantly going wide. Dammit, she silently cursed. Smooth move.
Yancey smirked. Something flashed in his eyes and she swallowed hard, her already sweaty palms becoming even moister.
"We hoped that anyone with an IQ of 120 or above would be immune or a Carrier. Your 141 would have given you an almost foolproof chance of survival."
"Would I have been a Carrier?"
"It's hard to say. Carriers are a mutation- there's nothing different than those who are immune in them; the virus just seemed to react differently. It is, however, extremely unlikely to be a Carrier, about 25 out of every thousand is. And, Bradley, in case you're wondering, your 140 would have saved you too. McGrew displayed the highest IQ out of all three of you at 145. You wouldn't have ever needed the vaccines in the first place."
Silence hung over the room for a few moments. She eyed Yancey, daring him to pull something. He seemed to be finished speaking.
"You done?" She growled.
"I am."
There was a brief moment of hesitation before he lunged towards the floor and then Carson, regaining control of both the boy and his gun in a matter of seconds. She released a battle cry and sprang into action, sprinting towards John Yancey as fast as her feet would carry her.
Chapter 45
Shay didn't know he'd even shot at her until the bullet tore through flesh.
Her world instantly slowed as it continued right on through, exiting the other side of her body accompanied with bits of flesh and blood. Somewhere Carson was screaming as she fell to her knees, looking down to find a steady stream of blood pumping out of a hole where her neck ended and her shoulder began. She'd been grazed by bullets before. That was a scrape in the knee compared to this.
Shock sank in immediately, pushing out the adrenaline and taking over. Her vision blurred as she felt herself tremble, helpless to stop the blood. Helpless to defend herself, Yancey was on top of her in moments.
Her dominant arm was rendered useless by the wound- even the slightest movement caused the sharpest agony. In shock she was weaker, noises muted, vision fading, feelings blocked. Everything that made her Shay was spilling out of her, the fight bleeding onto the floor.
Yancey was shouting something but she failed to formulate words, his voice warped and fuzzy. Next thing she knew the cool metal of his gun was jammed against her temple and she could feel his hot breath on her cheek. It would be over in a few moments. She'd have to face damnation alone.
As quickly as Yancey's superior weight arrived it was gone, as well as the gun against her temple. She blinked a few times, checking to make sure she was still alive. Her heart was still pounding beneath her ribcage and she was still bleeding, could still feel the pain. I'm alive.
A few feet to her right Carson had Yancey pinned, beating him profusely. Every few seconds he'd bring the butt of Shay's M16 down on his face, the muscles in his arms rippling with power. Yancey's blood was splattered all over his shirtfront, only increasing the look of primal fury that flared in his eyes.
"You shot her! You fucking shot her!" he shouted, grabbing Yancey by the collar of his shirt and yanking him forwards, bringing them to eye to eye. "You made a big fucking mistake." He snarled, forcing Yancey's head down against the floor with a smack.
"Carson, stop!" She croaked, stunned by how weak she sounded. He halted and released Yancey, his hands instantly beginning to shake. He dropped her gun and scooted away from the man's limp figure, staring at the blood on his hands with terrified eyes. She groaned as she tried to worm her way closer to him, teeth grinding together as her wound protested.
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