by Jo Schneider
The flashes. The nightmares. The sleepless nights. The trial. Wendy’s fingers tightened around her pistol. “You should walk away.”
“Why? Why not decide this here? Now? I’ll put you out of your misery.” He pointed at her. “Because you are in misery, aren’t you?”
“Walk away,” Wendy said again through clenched teeth.
Dennis took another step toward her. “You haven’t called anyone on the radio. You want this as much as I do. We’re the same.”
Wendy wanted to scream that she was nothing like him, but all she could hear was the cries of the dying and the yells of the Skinnies in the tunnels. The scratches on her arm began to ache.
“So what will it be?” Dennis was just out of range. “Will you fight me?”
It took every ounce of strength she could muster to say, “No.”
“Too bad,” Dennis said. He leaned forward, but stayed balanced. His hand hovered over the knife in his belt. It twitched once. “Because you don’t have a choice. Well, I guess you could run.”
Wendy dodged as he sprung at her.
He was still crazy fast. She had to roll to avoid a kick. Dennis bore down on her, and Wendy skittered away, not willing to fight him. The monster howled at her to let it loose.
“Are you a coward then?” Dennis asked, coming around again.
“I’m not an idiot, unlike you.”
Dennis came in hard and fast. A series of punches and kicks that Wendy couldn’t stay ahead of. One fist landed on her cheek, and Wendy felt her cheekbone bend.
The strike knocked down the gate in her mind. Wendy stopped herself mid-stumble and turned. As she did so, she dropped her pistol and extracted both of her knives. Rage fueled her limbs and pushed her sanity away. She and the monster now had the same goal.
Dennis’ expression of hate deepened, and he grounded himself to fight. He pulled out his own knife and waited.
Wendy charged straight at Dennis. The size difference should have kept her from doing so, but all she cared about was killing him. Now.
The charge brought a smile to Dennis’ lips. He waited until she got close before he stepped in toward her.
Wendy dodged Dennis’ knife and used his arm as a backrest as she twirled her way up to his side. Just before she got there, he kicked her knee and she went sprawling. She turned it into a roll and came up on her feet.
That knee was going to hurt later. She was glad to see she still had both of her knives.
Dennis charged. In Wendy’s mind, the yell he let out morphed into the elated squeal of a Skinny just before it fed. Wendy clenched her jaw shut and waited.
She had more patience than Dennis did. She also didn’t care about getting hurt. Dennis swung with his knife—a good move—and Wendy turned so she took a slice to her upper arm. Her shirt absorbed most of it, and she used the same move to put Dennis on the ground that she had used on Jeff in the combat rooms. Only this time, she used Dennis’ windpipe to push him over.
Dennis had been expecting a sweep, but not this one. Wendy followed him down and landed with one foot to the side of his hip and her other knee embedded in his thigh. She saw the pain in his expression before his glare settled on her. One of Wendy’s hands held his wrist in a lock. The other held her knife to his neck.
Wendy had expected fear in his eyes. The knowledge of his own demise in his expression. Instead, she saw the same pained expression she faced in the mirror every morning.
She didn’t care. She was going to kill him, but not before she was satisfied that he was afraid of her. As he should be.
Dennis didn’t struggle to get out. Wendy used her body to feel for his movements, expecting a knife to the ribs, but it didn’t come. Instead, Dennis spoke. The punch to the throat had turned his voice into a rasping gag, but he got the words out.
“Do it.”
Wendy pressed her knife into his throat, drawing a tiny line of blood.
“Kill me,” Dennis said. His hand twitched in Wendy’s grasp.
Wendy didn’t take the time to think about what she was doing. What the consequences would be. She let a horrible smile play across her lips. “Gladly.”
Before she could slice her knife across Dennis’ neck, someone grabbed her from behind. A set of strong arms looped up under her shoulders. The hands came around the back of her neck and, before she could wiggle out of it, someone dragged her off Dennis. Strong legs went around her middle, and her face was pressed to her knees.
Wendy let out a yell of primal anger. She struggled, but the vice grip around the back of her neck only got tighter. The tendons there stretched and pulled, ready to pop. Someone took the knife from her hand. She kicked—connecting with a leg or maybe a chest—but the knife was gone anyway.
“Wendy!” A voice next to her ear shouted. “Wendy, stop!”
Stopping was not an option. Wendy continued to struggle.
“Get Dennis out of here,” the voice said through a grunt.
“Get up, man,” another voice said. “Now.”
Black spots began to dance in Wendy’s vision. The strength in her limbs ebbed. Her struggling became that of a baby against a bear. Breathing became difficult, then impossible as the darkness closed in around her vision.
Just before she lost consciousness, the pressure on her neck eased. The legs around her middle loosened, and the hands that had held her hostage almost let go.
“Wendy? Can you hear me?”
The gray light of the cloudy afternoon slowly began to seep back. Wendy blinked. The roar in her ears waned, and the pain in her mind released. She went limp, her strength gone.
“Wendy?”
It was Jeff. Jeff had stopped the monster. Again. Only this time he’d barely made it in time.
“Are you with me?”
She nodded.
“Say it.”
Wendy swallowed. Her throat felt like it was on fire. “I’m here.”
Jeff let her go, and she rolled off of him, landing on the cool ground face first. The realization of what she’d almost done, of what she’d wanted to do, took hold of Wendy’s mind, and she curled up into a ball and covered her head with her hands.
The voice in her mind screamed at her to go and find Dennis. To finish the job. But Wendy curled in tighter. She couldn’t let the monster out ever again.
Jeff knelt next to her. He reached out and rubbed her back. “It’s okay.”
But it wasn’t okay. At that moment, Wendy knew she couldn’t stay with Jeff. Not even if Mike could take her straight to Pelton. Not even if Mike could serve her Pelton’s black heart on a platter. Wendy had to go or she was going to kill Dennis, and once that happened, a gate would be opened and the monster would get out.
“It’s okay. You’re okay,” Jeff said.
Wendy got to her hands and knees and scrambled back. She held her hands between them. “Don’t.”
Jeff crouched low, his hands also out, ready to fight.
“Leave me here.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Yes you can. Just tell Mike that I left. I ran. He’s not going to care. I gave him what he needed with the map.” The confidence in her voice grew. “Just leave me.”
“Wendy, you need help.” He shifted forward.
“No!” Wendy drew back. “No, I don’t need help, I need to be alone. So I can’t hurt anyone.”
Jeff kept her gaze. “I know what you’re going through. It gets better.”
A tremor ran through Wendy’s body. “How can you know how I feel?”
“Believe me, I know. Just come back with us. We can help you.”
Wendy shook her head. “No. Not with Dennis there. Every time I see him I—” She choked on the word and tried again. “I want to kill him.”
Jeff kept his hands out as if reaching to pull her up. “You’ve been through a lot.”
“I’m worse than a Skinny. I know what I’m doing.” The realization caused Wendy to rock back on her heels and hug herself as tight as she could, as if
the pressure might keep the fragile web of her mind from severing.
The look in Jeff’s eyes moved from concern to pity. He flickered his gaze up and nodded once.
“Sorry, Shrimp,” Kev said just before a weight hit Wendy in the back of the head, and she plummeted into oblivion.
The world came back to her one sound at a time. The whine of an engine. Voices. The thump of gear being stowed. The clicking of restraints. More voices. The world began to sway. Wendy forced her eyes open.
Black splotches impaired her vision. She blinked, but they didn’t go away. She was back in the transport. Riggs sat across from her, his face dark with anger. Wendy turned her head and found Jeff on one side of her and Kev on the other. Wendy tried the restraints, but found herself held in by more than the shoulder straps. They’d buckled her feet to the seat legs and her hands were clamped together by cuffs. She jerked her hands and found that she had no give anywhere.
“She’s awake,” Riggs said. His dark eyes met hers, and she read her own failure there.
Wendy ground her teeth and held his gaze.
“Shrimp?” Kev asked. His face peered around the edges of her vision.
Jeff’s concerned gaze came from the other side.
Wendy took a breath and said, “I asked you to leave me there.”
Kev and Jeff exchanged a worried look. Riggs was the one who spoke. “Doc wants to talk to you.”
“He can’t fix this.”
“You’re not the first one to come to Shelter with these kinds of problems.”
“It’s not a problem,” Wendy said. “It’s a disease. It’s eating me from the inside out.” She looked at Jeff. “I asked you to leave me. Why didn’t you leave me?”
The hurt look on Jeff’s face almost made Wendy regret the question.
Kev answered. “Because, we don’t leave friends behind.”
Wendy turned to look at him. “You might regret that.”
“Not today.”
Wendy pressed her lips together to keep from speaking. She glanced around and found that they were the only ones in the transport. At least now maybe they understood how dangerous she was, even if they were stupid enough to take her back to Shelter.
Riggs shifted in his seat. “Everyone heard Dennis through the radio.”
“And?” Wendy asked.
“He just showed his true colors. Consider your troubles with the Council over.”
“Just like that?” She glared, her mind clicking on. “You set him up.”
“Mike set him up,” Riggs said.
“Why?”
“Mike wanted to know the truth.”
“Well, now you know that Dennis is a bully and I’m crazy. Oh, wait, we already knew all of that.”
Before Riggs could shoot back, a voice came over the intercom. “Riggs, you need to see this.”
Riggs unbuckled and rose. He moved to the cockpit.
Kev unbuckled and made his way to the small window at the front of the cargo hold.
“Oh hell,” he said.
“What?” Jeff asked.
Kev pointed. “The shield is flickering.”
“What?” Jeff joined Kev.
Wendy couldn’t see. The transport slowed. The light coming from the front window dimmed as they flew into the hangar. Before the transport settled into place, the boys came back and grabbed their stuff.
Jeff reached out and undid Wendy’s flight restraints. “Up,” he said.
“What’s going on?”
Riggs burst out of the cockpit, a distressed look on his face.
The ramp lowered, and Kev looked out. “Where is everyone?”
Riggs ignored the question. “Get out here. Keep her in binders for now.”
Kev guided Wendy by the elbow through the door and down the ramp. The number of fighters in the hangar had diminished significantly. Fewer than half were left.
Riggs met Matt coming out of the other transport. Yan’s guys were just landing their hover bikes.
Wendy saw Dennis being escorted out of the other transport under the guard of two fighters. His hands were bound together like hers, but the fighters had real weapons on him.
“Don’t worry,” Kev muttered to Wendy. “Dennis is going down for it this time.”
Four adult fighters guided six others who could barely walk. Their pale faces were tinged with green, and their eyes looked sunken.
“What’s wrong with them?” Wendy asked. Her mind started turning them into Skinnies.
“I don’t know,” Kev said. “Let’s go find out.” He steered her toward Riggs and Matt. Jeff arrived just before them.
“On the radio, Doc said that the adults are dropping like flies,” Riggs said.
“That’s what he told me too. We have another dozen in medical, and calls coming from all over Shelter.” Matt’s lips pulled into a frown. “We thought it was just the flu, but flu doesn’t spread quite like this.”
“Great,” Riggs muttered. He glanced at Dennis, then at Wendy, then at Yan, who approached from the landing area.
“Two more just got sick,” Yan said.
“Yeah, us too.”
Matt glanced around, as if looking for the right place to start. “I doubt that quarantining people now would be helpful. We’ve all been exposed. I suggest we gather the sick into large areas so the medical staff doesn’t have to run all around Shelter. Have whoever isn’t sick help. Let me go talk to Doc. See if we can come up with a plan.”
“Do it,” Riggs said.
The tall redhead jogged off, oblivious to the full gear he was still wearing.
Riggs turned to Yan. “How do you feel?”
“Not great,” Yan admitted.
“Me neither.” Riggs looked at Jeff. “You?”
Jeff shrugged. “Fine.”
Riggs eyed the teenagers, who had gathered around. “And the rest of you?”
“Good,” Cal said.
“Same as always,” Sven said.
Riggs looked at Wendy and raised his eyebrows.
“I feel fine.” Physically, anyway. Except her knee. She could feel it swelling.
“Huh,” Riggs huffed. He noticed Dennis and his guard standing off to the side and moved toward them. He addressed the older fighters. “Follow the rest of us, but keep him out of the way, and especially keep him away from Wendy.”
Dirt, sweat and blood smeared across Dennis’ face. His expression remained impassive as Riggs spoke. Riggs gave him a disgusted look and shook his head. “Your mom isn’t going to be able to get you out of this one.”
Dennis didn’t answer. His stare was dead as the guards led him away.
“What about Wendy?” Jeff asked softly.
Riggs took a breath and wiped his forehead. It was only then that Wendy noticed Riggs was sweating far more than he should have been.
He was sick too.
“She can’t be alone. Normally I’d send her to Elle in medical, but sounds like that’s not a great option right now.” He gave Wendy a hard stare. “And no, we can’t let you go, not if you might be sick with this. You could carry it to another compound and infect them. I’m afraid you’re stuck with us.”
Wendy ground her teeth.
“We should get everyone to the mess hall,” Jeff said. “We can use the tables as beds and it isn’t too far from medical.”
“Good idea,” Riggs said. He took a deep breath. “Listen up, everyone, we’re going to camp out in the mess hall for now. At least until Matt and Doc can tell us what’s going on.”
“What about our families?” One man asked.
“I just got here too,” Riggs said. “We’ll figure it out once we get these sick people settled. And from what I hear, the rest of us better prepare to get sick.”
“I’d rather skip that part,” Kev muttered to Cal. “I’ve already had like three plagues.”
“No kidding.”
Chapter 13
Sweat poured off of Wendy’s body, and she reveled in it as if working hard might ex
pel what she knew was lurking in her mind. Purge her of her insanity. The form was difficult to do with her hands bound together, but not impossible.
Pelton had always encouraged her to find new and interesting ways to study her form practice; little did he realize that she would be doing it after almost killing someone.
Wendy ignored Kev, who was sitting a little way off, pretending not to watch her while keeping an eye on her every move. He felt guilty about knocking her out. What he should be feeling guilty about was not leaving her behind.
Why had he and Jeff brought her back? And now she couldn’t leave.
They’d been cooped up in the mess hall for hours. Half of the adults were lying down, the others huddled together talking. A handful, including Hound, Cal and Janice, had gone to check on the shield. The kitchen staff had served lunch an hour before, but no one had eaten much, except for the boys. So far none of the teenagers had shown any signs of the illness. Wendy had moved to a far corner, taking Kev with her.
The shuffle of approaching feet caught Wendy’s attention. She watched Kev and when he quickly stood, she figured it was Jeff. Or Riggs.
Wendy kept going. Squat down, turn, punch, jump, twist in the air and land the other way, axe kick to where her opponent’s head would be. She looked up and found Matt standing a few feet away, watching.
“Is that hard with your hands tied?” he asked.
Wendy straightened and shrugged. “Sort of.”
Matt studied her face. Her eyes. Her soul. She resisted the urge to turn away. Matt and Doc both had the power to see through her. Wendy didn’t like it very much.
“Ready to take a break?” He gestured toward where Kev was sitting.
“Not really.”
“Sit down,” Matt said, all levity sliding from his face. “Now.”
Wendy gave him a flat stare, but moved in the direction he indicated. She turned and found Kev standing, ready to move away.
“No, stay,” Matt said.
Wendy walked to the spot but did not sit.
Matt offered, she shook her head. “Fine, I’m exhausted. I’m sitting.” He said.
Kev lurked nearby, not sure if he should be part of the conversation or not.
Matt rubbed his face and turned his gaze to Wendy. “How many flashes do you have a day now?”