by Abi Ketner
“Lexi, relax.” My father puts his hand on my shoulder and gently tries to push me back.
“Relax? Dad, why are you not freaking out?” I ask him, hurt. “I’m sick because of her!” I glare at him. I love him so much, but not even he can change how I feel about this revelation.
“What happened, it wasn’t just your mother,” he says hesitantly. “I … I was involved as well.”
All along, I had this perception of the world as a balloon, slightly round, weightless, imperfect but understandable. His words are the needle that has been lying in wait for my balloon. It drifts toward him, and … BANG!
“How?” I whisper, eyes narrowing. “You were dead.” Am I hallucinating?
“Allow me to explain exactly what happened, and this will help you understand why Wilson wanted you … alive.”
I’m so angry tears leak from my eyes and my body trembles in disbelief. “I don’t want to know, not anymore!”
But he ignores me.
“After I was gone, your mom took matters into her hands,” he says. “The only thing that makes sense is that she acquired the vials of the virus secretly, early on, and began working on weakening it—”
“You’re a humanitarian!” I interrupt. “What were you doing working on the virus? And why was this kept from Keegan and me?”
“My PhD was in biochemistry,” Dad says. “My humanitarian work was just a passion of mine.”
“And here I thought I knew you,” I spit. “Just another lie. Am I the only one who doesn’t lie?”
He patiently waits for me to finish. When I fall silent, he continues, “I was trying to make a strain weak enough that a human’s immune system would recognize the virus and start building immunity against it, which means the body would produce antibodies. Antibodies and antigens are critical to producing a vaccine. I knew the next vials the Commander had produced would be so wickedly strong, there would be no hope of making a vaccine from them. Unless I found a way to weaken them. But I ran out of time. It was top secret for a reason, and after I was taken, there wasn’t anyone to continue my work. But your mother knew. I never hid anything from her.”
But you did from me.
“She knew where I hid everything, and I’m guessing she started reading my research and testing logs.” He takes my good hand in his and squeezes. “Once she understood what I was trying to accomplish, she must’ve felt compelled to at least give it a shot.”
“A shot at what?”
“She must’ve taken the last strain I produced. There were two one-milliliter doses. She was smart enough to figure out on her own that it was possible, if you could survive the first injection, that the second could be given two or three weeks later. Like other live vaccines.”
“If I survived?” My jaw drops to my chest. “It could’ve killed me?”
“You were her only hope, the only possibility to help save the human race.” My father’s hands sweat, still grasping mine between them. I can tell he wants me to believe the best about her intentions, and I want—with all my heart—to feel the same. But the truth is never easy to ingest after so many lies. “You could be a hero.”
“I never asked for this,” I say. “She should’ve told me and allowed me to decide if I wanted to volunteer to be the freaking lab rat!”
“Lexi, if you knew, if I knew … the Commander or Wilson would’ve figured it out somehow.”
A sudden coldness hits my core, and I hide my face in my hands. My stomach’s heavy, and my scattered thoughts are coming together like a puzzle. After all this time, I finally understand everything.
“My sensitive stomach,” I whisper, “the Commander torturing me … the spiders, the cat, the room … they were just hallucinations from the virus.”
“Yes.”
I just want to go back to sleep and pretend I didn’t hear any of those words. “And this on-and-off discomfort?”
“Another side effect,” my father says.
“So, it’s been … almost two years … and I’m not dead.” Taking a deep breath, I prepare myself for the next question. “My positive blood test … means my body was strong enough … and my immune system made antibodies?” I pull my shoulders back and cock my head. “Does this mean it worked? That you have what’s needed to produce a vaccine?”
“We’re not sure, at least not yet,” he explains. “These tests take time. But what we do know is your blood has the antibodies. The scientists are searching for the antibodies that killed the virus, and from there they’ll see which antigen can be used to produce neutralizing antibodies. Those will be used for the vaccine.”
“That flew right over my head.” I lay my head back on my pillow. Every limb feels heavy with lead. Even my brain’s working overtime to digest his words.
“In other words, in order for the scientists to produce a vaccine, they still need to run a few more tests. To be sure it’s enough to make vaccines.”
“But a vaccine … that’s to protect those who haven’t been exposed.” I put a hand on my forehead, wiping away cool sweat. “What about those who are sick right now? And what about the countries Wilson already exposed?”
“You’re absolutely right. The people infected … Unfortunately, it’s too late for them. But our hope is to minimize the number of people who become exposed. Our hands are tied until the vaccine’s produced. It would normally take a year. But the best of the best will be working on this around the clock, which means we could have a vaccine in the next three to six months.” His shoulders slump, as if he’s relieved others will be assisting him, and he won’t have to go it alone anymore.
“What’s the plan in the meantime? How will people be protected?”
“The United Powers have isolation facilities set up in the areas that have been exposed. Everyone has been ordered to stay in their homes for a month. If they show any symptoms, the court has ordered them to immediately report to the closest facility.”
“Good,” I sigh. “Let’s pray my body did its job. Otherwise, I was rat for no reason.”
“Try not to think of it that way,” Dad says gently. “Your mother felt you were strong enough, and she was right.”
“You’re okay with what she did?”
“Putting your life at risk? Of course not. But I wasn’t the one with the Commander breathing down my neck, either. Knowing her as well as I do, I’m guessing your mother’s motives were to finish what I worked so hard on. That’s the kind of person she was. Pure, full of faith.”
“Why didn’t she just inject herself?” I demand.
“She was older, and her immune system was weaker than yours. It would’ve killed her for sure. Think of the drugs she was on.”
His words make my mouth fall open, but the memories resurface. After my dad was taken away, Mom was always in the study, being secretive about what she was doing. Toward the end of my time with her, I knew she was being drugged by the Commander. I’m sure she felt like she was running out of options and time.
I’m in shock. I don’t know what else to say. Keegan always said there was a reason Mom did what she did, and I tried, even begrudgingly, to believe him. He was right. All this time, Keegan was right.
“What did Wilson want with me?”
“He thought torturing you would break me, and I’d finally reveal the truth. It never crossed my mind that Sutton knew what she did until he told you about your blood test. Wilson never thought to ask Sutton about the virus or the cure because Sutton was in the Hole working as a doctor, not assisting me in my research. As soon as you showed up in the Hole, Sutton knew something was off, which led him to suspect you have been carrying the antibodies.”
“That’s crazy. For one, how could Sutton possibly know that? And two, it doesn’t make sense because Wilson worked for years perfecting the virus. Why would he want a vaccine that could save people from being infected?”
“Immunity for himself and his men.”
My breath catches in my throat. “So they couldn’t die …” I sh
ake my head slowly, letting the words sink in. “He was one sick narcissist.” I focus on my mother now, because I have a question I’ve been waiting to ask. “Do you believe her reason of accusing me was to protect me? Sending me to Sutton because he knew?”
“Sutton was a friend and a doctor, so yes, I believe she went to him for advice and his opinion before proceeding with you,” he explains. “The safest place for you to be was away from the Commander. If he had figured out what she’d done, things would’ve ended badly.” He covers a yawn, and I begin feeling guilty for making him stay longer when I know he needs rest just as much as I do. “I’d made a deal with Sutton, that if any of you ended up in the Hole, he would get to you and find the safest place for you to stay. And he did exactly that.”
“Sutton. Did he know about me all along?” I ask.
Dad’s eyes become glassy, and I imagine it’s from talking about his friend for so long. “Without a doubt. But without checking your blood he couldn’t be sure. We were fortunate that Sutton kept his word and convinced the Commander you needed a guard to protect you outside of the hospital. I asked Cole to watch over you, but Sutton was the one who made sure you became Cole’s assignment.”
“Did Cole know?” I ask, swallowing the lump in my throat, trying to stretch my brain around all of this.
“No, he did not.”
I sigh with relief. “Dad, there’s something you should know about Cole.”
“He already told me.” Dad smiles. “We talked for hours while you were sleeping.”
“Did you punch him?”
Dad laughs. “No, Lexi, I hugged him. I’m a forgiving person, and you know I forgave him the second he showed compassion toward me.” He runs his thumb over the top of my hand. “He protected you, risked his life for you, and he loves you … He’s the only kind of man I’d allow to date my daughter. And his dog, Zeus. What a hoot!”
I laugh but quickly regret it when pain shoots through my rib cage.
“Lexi,” my dad says seriously. “I hope you can dig deep and forgive your mother.”
“Before she died, I told her I did, even though I didn’t understand. But now I do, and I don’t blame her for doing what she thought was the right thing.” I smile at my dad. “Now’s the tough part—waiting for the results. After the hell we’ve endured, I swear, my blood better contain the gold that’s going to make this vaccine possible, or I’m going to be royally pissed off.”
“Look at you,” he says with pride. “One minute ago, you were furious, and now you’re wishing the same thing we are.”
“Be honest with me, please. Do you think it’s possible?”
“I try to always be optimistic,” Dad says. He stands, looking relieved and exhausted at the same time.
“One more question,” I say. He raises his eyebrows in expectation. “Who brought the United Powers in?”
Dad grins. I can’t get enough of it. “Shock number two,” he replies. “Bill.”
“Bill?” I choke out. “Crazy Bill?”
Dad chuckles. “He’s quite the character, but I think, behind the façade, is a rather intelligent man.”
“Whoever would’ve thought a drunk, crazy man could do the unthinkable?” I chuckle. “He really is a ninja.”
“Yes, he managed to save the records,” Dad explains. “He risked his life until he knew for sure they made it into the right hands.” I lie back on my pillows, trying to suck in this new information. “Bill saved us from the Hole.”
Well, he always said he wanted to be the hero. Now, for certain, he is. I love that crazy man.
“Now, get some rest nugget. I’ll be checking in a bit later.”
“Would you mind getting Cole?” I ask, suddenly afraid of being alone. “I really need him right now.”
“Already here.” Cole leans against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets. His expression says it all. He’s happy to see me but concerned at the same time. He cocks his head and gives me an easy smile, but I can tell how eager he is to talk.
My dad leans over me and kisses me on the forehead. “I love you so much.” He clears the doorway, only for Zeus to bound inside my room, knocking over the uneaten tray of food and slurping it off the floor. Cole throws his hands in the air as he moves to my bedside.
“Always has to make a grand entrance,” he says.
“Would you help slide me over so you can climb in and hold me?” I ask him in my most convincing voice.
“Sure, but I have to do something first.” He’s inches from my face, and his mint mouthwash smells refreshing. He sits on my bed facing me, and I take his face in my hands. He does the same.
“Cole—”
“Shhhh.”
My stomach flutters when his soft lips touch my forehead. He stays there for minutes before kissing each of my cheeks, my chin, and my nose. His gaze holds mine as he tucks my curls behind my ears and presses his mouth to mine. He kisses me with desperation, with relief, with passion, and with love. I wrap my arms around his neck, ignoring the throbbing in my wrist.
My face still cradled in his hands, our lips don’t part, and our breathing accelerates by the minute. Our tears melt together as we release every emotion we’ve had bottled up inside for so long. The old and the new. We lost each other, and it was the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my entire life. Now, there’s nothing fighting to tear us apart … We overcame everything short of death. And now we have a future together. We will finally have the life we fought so damn hard to live.
The dark mounds of soil surrounding the white crosses give away the newness of the graves. Keegan and Grace are among them. Off to the side, a line of construction vehicles and workers stand around with shovels in their hands. One of them, a branded Sinner, hops into a digger and begins working on the next lot. Judging from the amount of bodies brought daily, these workers have a lot of catching up to do. The man sees me watching him, and I smile slightly, because burying all the dead must be grueling. It’s my way of saying thank you.
I inhale as a sharp, cold wind brings the scent of disturbed earth, wet snow, and grief. My black dress swishes in the air, and gravel crunches beneath my faded boots. I’m nineteen, but I might as well be fifty. My bones ache with past abuse, my body weary with losses. It’s the first time they’ve allowed me to leave the hospital, and I’m a tad anxious. I promised I’d return right away and do everything they demanded, from wearing the wraps around my ankles to staying with my family. Like I’m going to take off running or something.
Remaining there for more testing, even a week, was enough to make me think I was going insane, and nothing, I mean nothing, was going to keep me from coming here for my last goodbye to Sutton. Just thinking about him throws a sword through my heart.
Cole walks beside me, his hand catching my hat and holding it in place as a stronger breeze pushes through. He gives me a quick wink and takes my arm, trying to make me feel better. My hair has only grown a quarter of an inch, and it’s a patchy growth because of the way Wilson shaved it. I keep telling myself I’ll go get it fixed once I’m out of the hospital, but until then, I have no choice but to keep it covered.
“Now I know what it feels like to be you,” I say to Cole. “My scalp might turn to ice.”
“Maybe you should have worn the wig,” he says.
“And stand here itching my head?” He shrugs. “No, thanks.”
We haven’t had a private moment since before the testing. He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my ring in an attempt to comfort me, but nothing brings comfort during times like this. It’s a pain that suffocates every nerve in your body while a hand reaches into your chest and wrings your heart out like a wet washcloth. To say it hurts to breathe would be an understatement. Even Zeus, who sticks by Cole’s side, seems sad. His tail doesn’t wag, and his ears lie back. All around us, United Powers officials press in, escorting me. Behind us, my dad follows, along with the rest of our friends.
“We’re gathered here to mourn the loss of a great friend
, leader, and bearer of freedom,” the pastor begins.
Slushy gray snow lies in piles around the lot, allowing us just enough space to fit under the tent, where we sit in cold, metal fold-out chairs. The coffin sits in the ground, the dark mud of the earth rising around it. The sleek black lines and simplicity of it make me think Sutton would’ve approved. He was a very simple man. Beside his grave are masses of roses in baskets, their fragrance light and pure. I examine everything, partly because it’s a habit now. Or maybe a slight distraction.
“Chris Hamilton has some parting words,” the pastor says.
My father stands and steps away from us. He puts on new glasses, which are now needed after spending so much time underground in a dimly lit prison, and clears his throat. His hands shake as he holds his speech, written on a sheet of white paper.
“Sutton was my best friend since we were young boys, and boy, were we troublemakers.” The group chuckles, but my father’s eyes remain troubled and serious. “I’ll never forget when we were eight years old … We played hockey pretty much every day, and Sutton was as competitive as they come. He talked me into making a deal with him. Whoever lost had to streak down our street.” The crowd around us laughs again. “Boy, was I a fool.” My father smiles sadly. “As you can probably guess, I lost. And, of course, he held me to my promise, so I did it, and when my mother caught me, I ended up with three wonderful bruises on my behind to prove it.”
I can’t help but laugh picturing my young father running down the street completely naked. Cole shakes his head and laughs with me.
“But, in all seriousness,” Dad continues, “Sutton was always deeply thoughtful in his convictions, as I’m sure you’ve seen or heard. Even as a child, he knew when to have fun and when to get down to business. He was focused, determined, and passionate about helping others. By the time he was thirteen, he knew he wanted to be a doctor.” My father chokes up, and now my tears begin rolling down my cheeks, because I can’t handle seeing him this way. “It was because of his caring, gentle nature that he ended up doing just that … and so much more.” My father pauses to gather himself. “I owe Sutton my life, as well as my family’s. He saved Lexi, my daughter, simply because he loved her like a daughter, and her life meant more to him than his own. It’s a debt I will never be able to repay.”