It can’t be true. It can’t.
CHAPTER 5
CALLIE
WAVES OF SHOCK AND FEAR are rolling through Shay. I remember when I first found I could control people: I told them to do stuff, and they did it. I wasn’t scared of it—I loved it. I nearly got a nurse to let me out before someone stopped her.
Then they had me fitted with that mask so I couldn’t talk anymore. Could I have just thought things at people rather than said them, like Shay did to Kai? If only I’d realized, I might have gotten away before the cure.
But once I was cured, it all ended. Now I can’t make anyone do what I say; I can’t even make them hear me.
But I put all that aside for now; Kai has just said, “Hello” on the phone. I press myself against the earpiece so I can hear Mum’s voice.
“Kai! You’re all right?”
“Of course. Sorry to worry you; there was nowhere to charge phones. We’ve just come back to Killin.”
“We?”
“Shay and me.”
“She’s all right? You shouldn’t have taken her to Killin; it’s—”
“Quarantined. Yes, we know. Shay was sick, but she survived. Very sadly, her mother died.”
“Are you sure that it was Aberdeen flu that Shay had? And she survived?”
“Yes, completely sure. I saw her mother’s body too—there’s no doubting what killed her.”
“Does Shay have any other family?”
“Not any that can be reached. Her uncle was on Shetland and was taken to Aberdeen with his family; they lost contact with them.”
“You must take her to whoever is in charge of the army there and explain: tell them she’s survived, and that they need to get her to me as soon as possible. But listen to me, Kai: this is very important. Don’t let anybody else know she’s a survivor.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“The only other confirmed survivors disappeared or killed themselves before we could get to them. The army can protect her and bring her to me. Keep her safe, Kai. She could be very important to solving all of this.”
“She’s very important to me.”
“I’m sorry; of course she is. But in this instance, all of the human race have more of a claim to her than you do.”
“Ouch.”
“Ich hab dich lieb. Take care.”
“Love you too.”
“Tschüss.”
Kai hangs up the phone, stands there for a moment. His eyes are on Shay. She looks small, fragile. Her arms are wrapped around that big, soft toy polar bear, and she is miles away. Her eyes change; they go that weirded-out way they do when you’re reaching around you—the blue spins and swirls. Mine used to do that; I remember the doctors and nurses saying so.
Can Kai see, or is he too far away?
He walks over to her, sits down, and takes her hand. Her eyes turn to his and are normal again.
“Shay, my mother says we shouldn’t let anyone know that you’re a survivor; that we should go to the army here and tell only them. Then they will take us to her. You might be able to help them work out how to beat this illness.”
“You mean leave here? And go to Newcastle?”
“That’s what she said.”
“But this is my home.”
CHAPTER 6
SHAY
THE NEXT MORNING, I tell Kai that I will do what his mum said we should. But not yet. There are two things I have to do before I can leave: find out if Iona and her family are okay and then do everything I can to help in Killin.
According to BBC maps on the news we watched late last night, the whole of the Trossachs is quarantined now—this includes Iona’s family farm. Despite the hour, I almost called her there and then, but I was afraid.
You won’t know unless you call her, Callie says. I told you last night: there were places on that army map I saw that were green inside the red quarantine zone.
But what if no one answers? What if…I swallow. What if it’s the worst: do I want to know?
“Call Iona,” Kai says, almost as if he is listening in to Callie and me. “If she’s all right, she’ll be worried sick about you.”
He’s right, and that is the thing that finally makes me do it. Kai and I charged our phones overnight, and I take mine upstairs now, to my room, and shut the door.
Callie, my shadow, has beaten me up the stairs. She’s sprawled on my bed.
I sit next to her. “Can you go? Please. Let me do this alone.”
She sits up and tilts her head to one side. She’s darkness in light, coolness to eyes that see too much heat and color everywhere. She smiles.
Yes. Of course I’ll go. And you want to know why? Because you asked me to. She gets up, walks to the door. That is how to get along, you know. If you treat me normally, I can help you. Her dark eyes—are they eyes, or just darker places in darkness?—fix on mine. We can help each other. She turns, and changes—flows under the door—and is gone.
I shake my head. I’m bonkers, completely nutzoid. There’s no doubt that on the nut meter, I’m well past peanuts, walnuts, and brazil nuts—I’m right at the top of the nut chain. Coconuts: that’s what I am.
But at least I’m alone.
I stare at the phone for a long time before I dial.
It rings once…twice…three times…
“Hello?”
“Iona?”
“Oh my God. Is that you, Shay?”
“I was scared to call. I didn’t know if you’d answer, and…”
“Did Kai find you? Why didn’t he tell me?”
“His phone charge didn’t last; neither did mine. We only just got back to Killin yesterday, and home last night.”
“Were you ill? I don’t understand. I thought everyone who got it…well, that they…”
“Died. That’s the way it usually goes. And…and…Mum died, Iona.” Now I’m crying, and I so want Iona in this room, not down the phone line. I want someone with me now who knows me, who knew Mum, who knew us together; who knows what I’ve lost.
Iona is crying too. “I’m so, so sorry. I loved your Mum,” she manages to get out.
“I know,” I finally say, between the tears, and it takes both of us a while to get enough of a grip to carry on talking.
“Iona, you can’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you.” I know I wasn’t supposed to tell anybody myself, but this is Iona. Besides, she knows stuff. If her networks are still up and running, if there is anything out there about this, she’ll know.
“Of course. I promise.”
“I had it, but I didn’t die.”
“Oh my God. You’re a survivor?”
“Kai’s mum is a doctor and an epidemiologist, part of the task force studying the disease in Newcastle. She says we should go to the army and tell them about me, and then they’ll take me to her. That I might hold some key to help other people survive.”
“Don’t. Don’t tell anyone.” Iona’s voice is sharp.
“Why?”
“There are all kinds of rumors flying around about survivors. That they’re like witches or something.”
“Nice.”
“And that they’re really dangerous: they can do things like talk to the dead and make people do stuff they don’t want to.”
“Where have you heard this stuff?” I say, automatically switching into my role of skeptic for her blog, JIT, and trying not to think about what Iona actually said. Talk to the dead? Control people?
My stomach twists. Isn’t that just what I’ve been doing?
“Nowhere official, but people are scared of survivors. It could be dangerous to be one.”
“Isn’t that all the more reason to go to the army and let them look after things?”
“I don’t know. Sources tell me that survivors have been taken by the army, but they’re never seen again. Is that good or bad?”
“Wait a minute. Kai’s mum says the army hasn’t managed to find any survivors. They either disappear or kill themselves.”
“So which is true? I don’t like the sound of this, not one bit.”
“No.”
“You need to take off, Shay; hide away.”
Iona’s paranoia is legendary. If there’s a conspiracy theory around, she’s all over it. But I’m uneasy too.
“Be careful,” she says. “If you need help, use JIT; you can message me there.”
We talk for a while longer. Iona’s family farm is in a cluster that has stayed free of the Aberdeen flu by cutting itself off. They’ve blocked off their private roads; one of her brothers and a neighbor guard it with shotguns. They’ve got generators for power and can live off the land as long as they need to.
It’s ages before we can say goodbye. Every time we try, there is one more thing one of us wants to say, and another, then another.
When we finally do, when I hear the click that says Iona has hung up and then silence, I stare at the phone in my hand. Finally I put it down, grab my laptop, and enter Aberdeen flu survivors into the search engine.
I soon wish I hadn’t.
CHAPTER 7
CALLIE
SHAY COULDN’T STILL BE ON THE PHONE, could she? Finally I give up waiting and slip under her door. She’s slumped over her laptop.
Shay?
No reaction.
Almost like he’s followed me, Kai walks in behind.
Shay looks up, tears wet on her cheeks. “She’s all right. Iona and her family—they’re all right.”
He gathers Shay into his arms and holds her.
CHAPTER 8
SHAY
WHEN WE GET TO THE PARK, the army trucks are pulling out. Lizzie stands watching them, arms crossed.
“What’s happening?” Kai asks her.
“They’re leaving. They’re just leaving us to cope on our own.”
“What?” I say.
“It’s true. They’ve given us a list, so we can continue checking the streets that haven’t been done yet, but they won’t help us anymore. They’re pulling out beyond the quarantine zone.”
Kai takes my hand, pulls me away from Lizzie, toward the road. “We have to tell them about you now. Get you taken away from here before they’re all gone.”
“No. Can’t you see Lizzie and the others need our help even more now? We can’t leave them.”
“Believe me, I understand how you feel. But what if you hold an answer to all of this? What if you can stop what is happening in Killin from happening in other places?”
The last truck pulls out of the park. Kai moves to walk to the road to flag it down, and I’m furious. This is my life; he can’t decide for me.
I won’t let him.
“Stay where you are!”
He stops abruptly, caught in midstep, but he’s fighting to go on to the road; I can see it in the struggle on his face, his rigid muscles.
The truck disappears up the road. Suddenly released, he almost falls forward.
Now Kai’s fury matches my own. “What did you just do to me? You told me to stay where I was, and I couldn’t move. How did you do that?”
“How could you go to tell them about me when I’ve told you not to? It’s my life—my choice.”
“Not when you’re not making sense! There is nothing you can do here that will help. Nothing. And there may be everything you can do to help if you leave.”
“You can’t make decisions for me!”
“But you can make them for me? How did you even do that?”
How can I answer when I don’t know? I turn and walk away.
CHAPTER 9
CALLIE
I’VE NEVER SEEN KAI SO ANGRY. Shay meddled in his head and didn’t hide it, almost like she wanted him to know what she did. And he does. He doesn’t understand it, but somehow he does.
Lizzie and Jamie come over with a clipboard; Lizzie brandishes it. “This is the list of streets that haven’t been checked. One of us needs to go with Jamie in the truck; the rest need to get on with things here.”
“I’ll go,” Kai and Shay say simultaneously.
Lizzie looks between their set faces. “One of you stay, one of you go.”
Without discussion Shay stalks off toward the truck; Jamie follows.
“Are you two okay?” Lizzie asks Kai.
“I don’t know.”
“There are enough things to worry about without quarrelling among ourselves.”
“Are you all right?”
She shrugs. “I’m alive. Which is more than I’ll be able to say by the end of today about those who are left.” She gestures at the tent.
“Some may survive.”
“I haven’t seen it happen, and I’m glad.”
He turns to her, eyebrows up. “Why?”
“Haven’t you heard? Survivors are changed. I don’t think they’re even human anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugs. “They can talk to the dead, and it makes them crazy.” She taps on her head. “They’re suicidal and worse: they can make other people kill themselves too. Just by telling them to do it. Better to burn in the fire.”
I stare at Lizzie. I was a survivor, but they still sent me to the fire. Did they think like she does? Is that why they did it?
Her words felt like she slapped me in the face. I slap her in the face back. She doesn’t feel it, but it makes me feel better just the same.
CHAPTER 10
SHAY
JAMIE PULLS THE TRUCK IN BY THE FIRST HOUSE.
He doesn’t knock, just opens the door—it’s unlocked. That most people don’t lock their doors in Killin makes this job easier.
He looks at me sideways and sighs. “Guess I’ll be doing all the carrying today. This is what we do: check every room. Go upstairs, I’ll do downstairs. Call out if you find anyone.”
I start up the stairs, nervous about what I might see and feel. Even my imaginary friend isn’t here; Callie stayed with Kai. I’m surprised to find I wish she were with me. Lately there has been something comforting about having her there.
Kai was so angry. He’ll leave me after today, won’t he? And Callie will go with him; she’s his sister. There is still a core of anger inside and I hold on to it, nurse it, afraid that if I let it go the pain and fear of losing him will take over.
I head up the stairs. The first door is a bedroom. It looks unlived in, like a guest room, and it’s empty.
Another door: bathroom. Empty.
I breathe a little easier. There is one more door. I walk toward it, but before I open it, I know. They’re in there—two of them. There are tendrils reaching out, waves of entwined thoughts.
“Jamie?” I call out. “Up here.”
A man and woman lie still and silent on their bed. Bloody eyes stare blankly ahead. White-haired; they look like someone’s grandparents. And their hands between them…they’re clasped together. Fingers interlaced.
We carry on from house to house. Bodies are piled in the back of the truck without ceremony. Jamie has a set look on his face that says he isn’t here; he isn’t throwing a ten-year-old girl on a pile of bodies with her mother. He’s away somewhere else: at a farm, maybe, with sacks of potatoes.
It’s easy to find the dead, now that I’ve worked out how. The tendrils I felt with the first ones are like footprints, traces of their thoughts left behind as they died—a trail I can follow. Jamie starts giving me odd looks as I unerringly lead him to one body, then another.
I can’t have my barriers all the way up to find them, though—I’m battered by the fear and pain of their final thoughts. If it’s true, I’m starting to understand why so many survivors kill themselves.
But then there’s something new.
It’s urgent; it’s now.
Someone is still alive.
CHAPTER 11
CALLIE
TWO ARMY JEEPS ARE APPROACHING.
Lizzie comes out of the tent when she hears them, Kai close behind her.
“Did they change their minds?” she says. “Are they comi
ng back to help us after all?”
The jeeps pull in, a group of biohazard-suited army types inside. One of them is the soldier who was in charge here before, but he’s deferring to someone else now.
They get out of the jeep, and the someone else smiles inside his suit. It isn’t the sort of smile I like.
“Good afternoon. Lieutenant Kirkland-Smith, at your service. Where is Shay McAllister?”
CHAPTER 12
SHAY
I TELL JAMIE THAT WE HAVE TO GO BACK, down the hill and around a corner. Not the street we’re meant to be doing, he says; that one has already been cleared. But I insist, and he drives there.
The trail of pain is getting stronger as we go.
“Stop here,” I say in front of a run-down cottage, on its own at the end of the street. There is long grass and rubbish all over the yard.
We get out and walk to the house. I hesitate, and instead of barging in, knock on the door. Then open it and step inside.
“Hello?” I call out.
Jamie looks at me oddly, but then there’s a sound above us—movement. We head for the stairs.
The place is a mess and smells as though the food on the dirty dishes piled up everywhere has gone bad. There are clothes on the stairs that we have to step over to climb up.
Once upstairs we pass one open door, then another, but it’s through the closed door at the end of the hall that I sense someone. I keep walking, and Jamie, used to me now, skips the other rooms as well.
I knock on the door. “Hello? Can we help?” I say, then open the door.
In the corner of the room is a boy. He’s crouched down, his arms wrapped around his head, moaning.
“Hi. I’m Shay.” I kneel down next to the boy, and he moves his arms away from his face.
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