A Sea of Shattered Glass
Page 31
“I’m fine. What about the cure? The cure the New Patriots wanted to help all those sick people?”
“They didn't want the vaccine for the sick. They wanted it for themselves.”
“What?”
Elise closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were full of anguish. “Amelia, honey, I need you to sit down.”
Amelia stiffened. “Just tell me.”
“The universal vaccine—the bioweapon—it didn't just infect the people who got the shot.”
Dizziness rushed through her. She started to get that feeling, like when the aura came before a migraine. A warning. “Tell me.”
“The Hydra virus your father inserted into the flu vaccine—it mutated. It's contagious.”
“Contagious,” Amelia echoed. She felt thick headed, her brain full of fog.
“There’s always the possibility of viral shedding with a vaccine that utilizes a live virus, like measles or polio. But this—something happened. I don’t know what, exactly. But right before the communications went down on the Voyager, the CDC declared the virus a pandemic.”
“What are we supposed to do now?” Amelia asked, fighting down panic.
Her mother clasped her hands together. “We have faith that God will see us through. We do anything we can to help. We pray for the sick and their families—”
“How can you say that?” Silas's mouth twisted. “How can you talk about faith after what he's done?”
“He was wrong. Your father, he twisted the Bible to meet his own ends. Religion for him was just a way into politics, to garner support from the Unitarians. He used it like a weapon, just another method of manipulation and control.” Her mother's eyes filled with tears. “What is done in the name of faith and true faith are two different things. I hope I've taught you that.”
“What you've taught us?” Silas sneered. “You taught us to respect and obey a monster.”
She looked from Silas to Amelia, her face crumpling. “You both must hate me. And maybe I deserve it. But you don't know everything. There's more I need to tell you—”
But Amelia heard enough. She couldn't stand to be near her mother, couldn't stand to even look at her. Her mother was weak. She'd always been weak. Amelia saw that now. She'd been blind before, so determined to please her father she hadn't seen him for what he was. And she'd tried so hard to be as meek and docile as her mother, she hadn't seen what it was doing to her own soul. Even with Gabriel, she’d been blind, letting herself see what she wanted to see—someone to rescue her, so she didn’t have to do the hard work of rescuing herself.
But she wasn't blind now. She didn't have to be weak and docile anymore. “Just stop.”
“But Amelia, you don't understand—”
The entrance to the quarantined area opened, and two figures in contamination suits lumbered in, wheeling in an old-fashioned flat screen TV. Their hazmat suits made them look alien and intimidating. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the first one said in a loud, throaty voice through her helmet.
All around Amelia, people sat up, rubbing their exhausted faces. A few seats down, Willow hunched protectively over her little brother. Their eyes locked. Amelia tried to offer up a reassuring smile, but she couldn't. Her mouth, her whole face, was frozen.
“We understand your shock, confusion, and questions,” the woman in the hazmat suit continued. “You've been through a tremendous ordeal. However, due to the circumstances, we must take extreme precautions. Our doctors will conduct further examinations on each of you later today. Thank you for your patience and please remain calm.”
“Give us some damn answers!” someone shouted.
“Is this because of that Hydra plague?”
“What’s really going on?”
“You can’t keep us in here!”
“I have been authorized to brief you on the current state of emergency. As you may have gathered, the Hydra virus is a particularly virulent strain of Influenza A. It has also mutated in . . . unexpected ways.”
“What's happening?” a man asked, terror in his voice.
“All state and national agencies are working in conjunction to contain the disease. Domestic ports are closed, and domestic and international flights have been grounded.”
A low murmur spread through the room. “President Sloane?” Tyler Horne asked.
The woman nodded. “President Morgan succumbed to the virus the night before last. President Amanda Sloane was sworn in immediately. Her first act was to declare a national state of emergency.”
Another audible gasp.
“President Sloane announced yesterday that the Hydra virus was released upon the United States as a biological weapon.”
No one moved. No one breathed.
“The effects have been . . . catastrophic. We’ll release information as we receive it, but for now, we've been authorized to show you part of President Sloane's emergency address.” The woman turned on the television and stepped aside.
On the screen, the new president stood behind her desk in the Oval Office. She leaned forward, her hands splayed on the desk. She was a tall, svelte woman in her mid-fifties, her auburn hair clipped short around her ears, her gaze sober. She looked like a person who was strong and capable, who was ready to handle the crisis. “The Grand Voyager cruise ship sank yesterday after it was attacked by terrorists. As of now, we do not know how many survived. This was an intricately planned and organized two-prong attack.
“The murder of so many of our shining beacons of industry as well as several wonderful and dedicated members of congress and their families—it is an unpalatable act. It will not stand unavenged. The murder of millions of American men, women, and children via a deadly biological weapon is a heart-breaking atrocity we shall never forget. This too, we shall avenge with the full force of our military power.
“We have reason to believe the criminals behind these acts are one and the same, the homegrown terrorist group known as the New Patriots. I pledge to you tonight that we will find each and every perpetrator of these horrendous attacks. We will show them the exact meaning of American justice.
“Tonight, we are a nation in mourning. You did not vote for me, but I am still your president, the leader of this magnificent country. I will not rest until we contain this bioweapon. We will not stop until our country is safe again. Our hope and faith in the American dream is not diminished tonight. The world's prayers are with the United States. God be with us.”
The TV went dark. The room exploded into panicked confusion.
Amelia's gut froze into a block of ice. “That's not right—”
Elise gripped her arm so tightly, her nails dug into Amelia’s skin. “Shhh!”
An image of Gabriel flashed through her mind. Gabriel leaning over her, his face brimming with emotion, his dark eyes glossy with pain. “But it wasn't them—”
“Amelia. Stop talking. Right now.”
She stared at her mother in shock. Amelia couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her so fierce, her eyes filled with a desperate determination. “What—?”
Her mother leaned in close, her breath hot on Amelia's ear. “No one here knows what your father did. Not even Jericho.”
Amelia stiffened. “Gabriel knows.”
“Then we pray he says nothing. Do you have any idea what these people will do to us if they find out?”
“No. I—”
“There are others involved, high in the government. You remember all those disturbing calls that upset and agitated your father so much?”
“But it wasn't the New—”
“Keep quiet,” her mother hissed, iron in her voice. “Of course not. But it was someone. Someone with enough power and influence to organize a terrorist attack on a cruise ship full of powerful and influential people. There's more going on than we know. We're in an extremely dangerous position. Do you understand?”
Ice water flowed through Amelia's veins. She nodded. Her brain buzzed with the implications of her mother's words. Her father hadn’t acted al
one. But then who was behind it? And what about the attack on the Grand Voyager? Were they covering their tracks, tying up loose ends by destroying everyone who had any intimate knowledge of the engineering of the Hydra virus? And what would happen to her family when Gabriel revealed the truth about her father?
But her mind stopped there. It was too much to take in at once. Everything seemed fuzzy and far away. A vicious headache throbbed at the base of her skull.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” the woman in the hazmat suit said. “Our doctors will begin seeing you soon.”
“How long do we have to stay here?”
“We're not sick!”
“That boy is coughing! You locked us in here with the infected!”
“When are we going home?”
“Everyone will be tested!” the woman raised her hands. “You must remain calm.”
A shiver ran through Amelia, a cold that reached deep into her bones. When were they going home? And the bigger questions, the words she could hardly bring herself to think, let alone speak aloud. Was there even a home to go back to? And if there was, what dangers awaited them there?
And what about her medication? She only had one auto-injector and the pills in her mother’s purse. If her father was really, truly gone . . .
“It's the end,” Silas said flatly. “The end of the world.”
Amelia shook her head. She couldn’t believe that. She wouldn’t. “No. It’s not.”
She remembered her mother's saying about glass, how it was beautiful but weak, but it could be strengthened by heat—made strong by fire.
They'd tried to break her. The terrorists. Kane. Gabriel. Even her own father. But they couldn't. None of them could.
She hadn't shattered.
Whatever came next, she would face it.
They all would.
The End
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Acknowledgments
I’m been lucky enough to have wonderful support from family, friends, fellow writers, and readers. I am eternally grateful to everyone who read the manuscript and provided feedback—a few of you read various versions multiple times.
Many thanks to my awesome beta readers. Your thoughtful critiques and enthusiasm were invaluable. This book is a hundred times better because of you: Anna Baker, Cody Mauro, Elaine Roth, Elizabeth Oakes, Lauren Nikkel, Kimberley Trembley, Michelle Brown, Leslie Spurrier, Jazmin Cybulski, Tasmin Bowerman, Melissa Eddings, and Barry and Derise Marden.
To Danita Mayer and Britney Goodman for the time and care you spent on excellent developmental editing. To Michelle Brown and Holly Jenkins for lending me your eagle eyes with copyediting and proofreading.
Thank you to Miltiadis Kapodistrias for answering my questions about working on a cruise ship and for not freaking out when I started in on where the bombs should be located. And especially to Becca Cross, for being an amazing friend and early reader of all three of my books.
To my husband, for patiently listening to plot and character conundrums for months and stepping in to help with suppers and grocery shopping before deadlines.
And to my kids, for being my everything.
About the Author
Kyla Stone is an emerging author of contemporary YA and suspense/dystopian YA. She lives in Atlanta, Georgia with her husband, two children, and two spoiled cats. When she’s not writing or spending time with her family, she loves to read, hike, draw, travel, and play board games. Her favorite food is dark chocolate.
Kyla loves to hear from her readers. For news and new releases, visit her at:
www.FaceBook.com/KylaStoneBooks
www.Amazon.com/author/kylastone
Email her at KylaStone@yahoo.com