It was actually nine years ago when we first heard about the new deadly virus—one year before it reached our country. But it was across the ocean then, and no one thought for a second the disease would affect the privileged in a country with infinite power and money and the best health care in the world.
But of course it did. And when the first cases popped up, our government dismissed fears and ignored concerns. Hospitals built small quarantine and decontamination centers like this one, but that was mostly to appease the Centers for Disease Control.
And these small units proved to be not nearly enough.
But before these decontamination centers were even built, the future people of New Caelum had already formed a secret society of sorts. Some of the most influential, powerful, and richest people in the country, led by my mother, came together and decided to build their own city. A city with state-of-the art scientific labs, medical facilities, and living conditions fit for royalty.
And many believed one had to be near-royal to secure a spot inside the city. The people who built New Caelum predicted the world as we knew it was going to end, and they felt it was up to them to stop it—or, failing that, to at least ensure that our species survived.
Those who weren’t invited to join New Caelum—which was virtually everyone—thought they could control the spread of the disease with things like this infectious disease unit. Those poor souls thought they would survive the pandemic, just like they had survived every other crisis before it—with protocols and guidelines handed down from government powers.
And a few people who were invited to New Caelum—like Dr. Caine Quinton, a well-respected doctor according to my mother—declined. They chose to live outside of the city.
Most of them were dead within a year.
I fiddled with the PulsePoint I had found in Cricket’s bag. Caine had been nice enough not to take my belongings from me, and Cricket hadn’t asked for it back—not that it mattered. She probably knew as well as I did that it was useless without the owner’s fingerprint. And Cricket was not the owner.
No, this PulsePoint belonged to Christina. I knew this because I recognized the worn butterfly stickers on the back. She and I had been kids when we were first given these devices, and of course Christina had immediately taken to decorating hers—evidence of just how young we still were.
Critical questions swirled through my mind: Where was Christina now? Why did Cricket have her PulsePoint? And since it was useless to her, why was she carrying it around?
I tucked the PulsePoint back in my bag and looked out through one of the glass walls of my unit. Ryder was in the unit next to mine, and I could see Key shivering in a hospital bed two units over. Caine was with her, covered head to toe in a complete hazmat suit in surgical blue. Of course, the world had learned that even the most conservative precautions didn’t guarantee that health care workers wouldn’t contract Bad Sam. Yet still, the same man who had pulled a gun on us earlier today was now risking his life for Key.
Ryder stood against the glass that separated him from Key, monitoring Caine’s every move—and watching the suffering of the girl he’d loved since they were kids.
At least the isolation units were built with lots of glass. Patients didn’t go as crazy when they felt they were still around people.
Outside in the hallway, Cricket talked with Dax, Dylan, and Nina. As they spoke, she played with the hair on the right side of her head so that it covered her scars. Did she know that the scars didn’t stop her from being attractive?
I gave my head a shake. What the hell was I doing thinking of this girl as pretty?
As if hearing my thoughts, Cricket turned her head slowly toward me. Dax had a hand firmly planted in the small of her back. Were they an item? He treated her like she was his property, but I didn’t sense her reciprocating that same level of affection toward him.
I couldn’t help but smile at that. There was something about her that made me want to get closer to her. And there was something about the way he touched her that pissed me off.
Maybe in another life I’d get the opportunity to know someone like her.
When Cricket saw me smiling, she quickly turned away. What was it about her? She was a puzzle.
But it was one I didn’t have time to solve. I was here for one purpose only—to find Christina and get her back to the city. Mom seemed to think Christina had the answer that would save my sister from an ugly death. And if the girl who’d deserted me all those years ago could do that, then I’d find her.
Caine exited Key’s isolation room and entered the short hallway that connected our three iso units. Then he stepped into some sort of decontamination chamber, similar to the ones in New Caelum, and was sprayed head to toe with a sterilization substance. After a few minutes, he stepped out on the other side, minus the hazmat suit.
It was then that I noticed that Cricket and Nina had begun scrubbing in as if they were surgeons.
What are they doing? I felt the start of a panic attack building in my chest.
When their scrubbing was complete, Nina proceeded to help Cricket put on her own hazmat suit. Nina suited her up, double-gloved her, and checked to make sure she was covered from head to toe. Dax watched all this with a worried expression, which didn’t do much to calm my building nerves. Why was I feeling so protective of this girl?
Because I need her to help me find Christina, I reminded myself. She’d be of no help to me if she got sick.
Then Cricket walked toward the decontamination chambers. So, she was coming in. Was she headed for Key’s room? I rushed over to the window and was about to bang on it. I didn’t want her further exposed to Key.
But when she emerged from the decontamination chamber, she didn’t turn toward Key’s room. She turned toward mine. And with the press of a few buttons, she entered.
“Hi, West,” she said through the filtration mechanism of her gas mask. “I need to take some blood from you, if that’s okay.”
“What if it’s not?” I asked.
She raised her head, not hiding her face the way she had only moments ago, but her scars were now covered by the mask. “Then you’ll stay in this room for the twenty-one or so days it’ll take to prove you’re free of the Samael Strain.”
“How will giving you my blood keep me from that?” I had no intention of staying in this room for twenty-one days; Willow didn’t have that long. If Cricket couldn’t, or wouldn’t, give me the information I needed about Christina, then I’d be leaving this place and searching elsewhere.
Cricket moved closer to me. Stared straight at me. “I have what you need to take back to your city doctors. It will help Willow.” She spoke so low, I could barely hear her.
I grabbed her arm. She pulled back slightly, but then stopped herself. She glanced over her shoulder toward the others.
“They’re not watching,” I said. It was true; for once, something had distracted Dax long enough for him to take his eyes off of her for more than a second. I yanked her even closer, breathing steam against the plexiglass of her mask. “I let you help Key—now it’s your turn. Tell me about Christina. That was our deal.”
Her eyes didn’t have the fear I was expecting. “Christina is dead.” Her voice didn’t waver. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t struggle against my grip, which grew tighter as she said the words. “But I have what you need from her.”
Christina was dead. I had suspected it for so long, but to hear it spoken aloud… it still sent me reeling. Cricket’s words sounded strange and muffled in my head, like they were traveling through a tunnel with no end. Her eyes were stone cold, and she didn’t dare look away from me. She truly believed what she was telling me.
Or she wanted me to think she believed it.
“What is it you think I need?” I released her arm and held mine out so that she could take blood from it. Fighting her now would serve no purpose.
She tied a rubber tourniquet just above my elbow. “You want a cure for your sister.” She stuck a
needle in my arm with zero warning.
I flinched. “Ow.”
Her lips lifted at my expression of pain, and she attached a collection tube. “Your doctors are missing a key ingredient they need in order to come up with a treatment for the virus.”
“And you have that?”
She didn’t answer right away; she collected the blood she needed, then proceeded to place the tube back into the carrying tray and dispose of the other biohazard waste.
Finally she turned back to me and spoke. “Yes, I have what your doctors inside New Caelum need.” She turned and exited the room.
chapter thirteen
Cricket
Caine had been peering into a microscope for ten minutes, grunting and sighing. Then finally he said, “He’s immune.”
“Are you sure?” I trusted Caine’s expertise, but my fear of Bad Sam was just so great.
He raised his head. “I’ve tested his blood multiple times. It doesn’t contain the antibodies that yours contains, but like Nina and me, he has the gene that protects humans from Bad Sam. He cannot contract this particular virus.”
I breathed a sigh of relief for my childhood friend. Even though he had strapped me to a table earlier that day, I couldn’t stop the feeling of gratitude. He would never know the fear of a fever that would put him in his own private hell. It was a hell I had lived through, a hell I would never wish on anyone.
“Good. That’s good. So West is immune, like you and Nina. That’s good.” I repeated “That’s good” as if I needed extra convincing. “What about Dax and Dylan?”
Caine simply stared at me. The way his cheeks drooped told me that Dax and Dylan were at risk. My heart sank.
A thought struck me. “But wait—how can West be immune when his sister isn’t? Like you and Nina—you both have the gene.”
“That’s true. But just because a parent or a sibling has the gene doesn’t necessarily mean another family member will have it, too. We’re all a mix of our parents’ genes. And who knows, maybe this is a mutation.”
“Well, thank you,” I said, touching Caine’s arm in a rare instance of affection between us. “For the extra testing.” There had never been reason to test anyone for the “immunity gene” before, but now that Bad Sam was back, it was important to know who could tend to the sick. And besides, he knew that I would want the extra assurances.
Boone Blackston was fortunate to have Caine as a doctor—fortunate that he had refused to be a part of New Caelum’s medical team, fortunate to have on their side perhaps the only infectious diseases specialist in the world who was immune to Bad Sam. But I felt even more fortunate to have him as part of my life. He’d been like a father to me
“What about Key? Is it Bad Sam for sure?”
Caine frowned. He began removing West’s slide from the microscope. “Won’t know until morning. The test takes a while for me to run.”
“And you’re testing Dax and Dylan for the virus?”
He nodded. Dax and Dylan were now in isolation units on another floor.
So, though I was relieved West was in the clear, I still had to worry about Dax and Dylan.
~~~~~
Caine left to inform West that he was in the clear, while I ate dinner with Dax. I sat with my legs tucked under me in a chair while we both picked at peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Nina was with Dylan in the next room. She was in charge of monitoring both Dylan and Dax for any signs of fever or sickness.
“What are you thinking about?” Dax asked.
I sighed and looked at my plate. “I just can’t stop wondering what will become of our world if this virus is back. Our community of people has finally begun to trust each other.”
Dax shrugged. “Please don’t get mad at me when I say this, but why do you care?”
I snapped my head up. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Come on, Cricket. You’ve always had one foot pointed straight out of town. I’ve lost track of the number of nights I’ve fallen asleep thinking you’d be gone when I woke up. That you’d leave without saying goodbye.”
“I would never leave without saying goodbye.” Would I?
“Do you think you could ever love me?”
I tried to hide the surprise from my face. “Dax, I—”
He placed his fingers over my lips. “Just think about this. If Key turns out to have this virus and I don’t, and if it looks like we can’t contain it … Will you consider leaving with me? I would do everything in my power to make you happy.”
“I know you would.”
“Just think about it.”
I smiled. “Of course I’ll—”
“Hey, Cricket.” Caine entered the room, cutting me off. “I need your help.” His lips tugged downward, and his voice was somber.
“Okay.” I touched Dax’s hand; I could see that he was disappointed by the interruption. “I’ll be back later. Don’t go stir crazy.” I flashed him the most sincere smile I could muster, knowing it wasn’t good enough. He wanted so much more from me.
Then I followed Caine into the stairwell. The infectious disease unit was up one floor from where Dax and Dylan had found rooms. “So, what’s wrong? Why did you come get me?”
We were alone, but Caine kept his voice down anyway. “We have a problem with the treatment.”
“What do you mean? I thought everything was finally going well.” I knew that Caine had been using animals to test treatment options for Bad Sam over the past few years, and he’d told me that his latest approach showed a great deal of promise.
“I’ll show you.”
He led me to his lab, down the hall from the isolation unit, and we both slipped into protective gear, including gloves. Though neither of us was afraid of contracting the virus, we still had to be careful not to get the virus on our clothes or bodies. We couldn’t risk tracking it outside the controlled confines of the lab.
Caine unlocked the door to the animal testing area and pushed the door open. “Take a look.”
When I stepped inside, my heart fell to my stomach, and I swallowed against the bile that rose in the back of my throat. “What happened?”
“They’re all dead.”
I glanced from cage to cage at the small animals that gave their lives so that we might study this disease. “I can see that, but why?”
Caine circled the room, almost frantic. I’d never seen him this upset. He grabbed a clipboard and started flipping through it. “Mostly, it’s their hearts and kidneys. I simply can’t stop the vital organs from shutting down.” He kept flipping. “I thought this time I had found the right formula.” He then turned to a miniature computer laptop and began typing something into it.
“Are you sure you didn’t just miss something?” I asked. “Something fixable?”
“I didn’t miss anything.” He stared at his computer screen. “I really thought I had it this time, Cricket.” He shoved a metal stool across the room. I flinched at the noise it made. “Something in your blood helped you fight the infection that shuts down the organs of everyone else who contracted the virus. I just don’t understand it.”
I walked over to him and urged him to look at me. “You need a break. I’ll stay with the three patients up here. Why don’t you find somewhere where you can get some sleep. We’ll need you at your strongest if anyone else gets sick.” That was an understatement. “Maybe after some rest, you’ll think of something that might have gone wrong.”
He nodded and wordlessly headed toward the door. Anger and disappointment weighed heavily on his slumped shoulders.
“Caine?” I said.
He turned back to me.
“Dax still doesn’t know that I survived Bad Sam—that my blood has antibodies. I need to be the one to tell him.”
“He won’t hear it from me.” He stood there a few seconds longer, and then he made a confession of his own: “I didn’t tell West that he was immune.”
“Why not?”
“I guess I’m more than a little pissed
that he’s partly responsible for bringing Bad Sam—or whatever this is—to our settlement. Thought it could wait till morning, when I get the other test results.”
It was a little heartless, but I couldn’t blame him. And hopefully, it meant West would stay put for now.
When Caine was gone, I stared at the caged dead animals for another ten minutes. What if Caine had exhausted all of his options for finding a cure? Until now, he had never been under any deadline to find a treatment. But now, staring the possibility of the virus in the face? We suddenly seemed out of options.
~~~~~
The main hallway lights were dim, and being late fall, it was already dark outside, though it was still early in the evening.
I had decided to check on our “guests” from New Caelum. More specifically, I was ready to talk to West and convince him to open up about New Caelum and Bad Sam’s return. One thing that had bothered me ever since Ryder, Key, and West had arrived was how little they’d told us about New Caelum. Among other things, if Bad Sam really was infecting citizens of New Caelum, why had West and Ryder seemed so genuinely surprised that Key was sick?
In the quarantine area, the smell of bleach from the decontamination chamber lingered. I checked on Key first, eyeing her through the glass. Caine had given her something to help her sleep, and she seemed to be doing just that, although her head thrashed about restlessly. Just beside her, in the next room, I saw Ryder. He had pushed his bed up against the glass, close to Key, and was sleeping soundly.
Then I walked down the row to West’s chamber.
It was empty.
My heart immediately sped up. I flipped on the light.
Nothing. He was gone.
Crap. I hurried back to Ryder; maybe he knew something. Maybe he’d seen West leave. Maybe they’d even talked about it.
I was just about to bang on the glass when I realized that something wasn’t right. Ryder’s skin was flushed. His breathing was shallow and raspy.
No longer worried about bothering the patients, I flipped on the lights in Ryder’s and Key’s units so I could get a better look at both of them. Key was no longer thrashing; she had stilled. From this distance and through the glass, she even appeared peaceful. But as I peered closer, I noticed a dark shadow around her eyes.
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