The Immortality Virus

by Christine Amsden

  Privately, she agreed with him, but she was not yet ready to give up. She counted to three again and then took off for the next headstone, with was thankfully unoccupied.

  All around her, there were disruptors blaring and pieces of statue flying. Grace had no idea how many soldiers the others had lost, but she spotted dozens of dead Rats all around her.

  How many did that leave? How many had come on the train? They had squeezed on, body pressing against body, packed onto the trains so that she could taste the sweat of the putrid bodies pressed into her.

  How many others had come to fight? How many had made it through the city walls? Or were some of these Kansas City locals?

  Grace was about to dart to the next statue when she felt someone drop down beside her. Without thinking, she whirled around and grabbed him around the throat. She was moments away from snapping his neck when she recognized Sam wheezing beneath her grasp.

  “It’s me!” he gasped.

  “Sorry.” She let go, relief washing over her that Sam remained alive. She fought back the urge to kiss him. “Where’s Matt?”

  “We got separated on the train,” Sam said. “Why the hell’d you bring us here?”

  She did not offer an explanation. “I’m headed to the mausoleum over the hill. Follow closely behind me if you want to live.”

  The next two statues in line had been destroyed by disruptor blasts. They would have to run quite a distance to get to the next bit of cover, but they had to move fast. Most of the big headstones in this area had already been destroyed, and the one they were hiding behind shattered around them just as they made a break for the cover of the next statue.

  “Ahh!” Sam cried out when they were halfway to cover.

  Grace ignored him and continued running. Only when she was safely seated behind the tall cross did she turn back to see Sam flailing around in the open, one arm missing from the elbow down.

  Her mind tried to slip back in time again, but she yanked it back–hard.

  “Get over here, you fool!” Grace hissed. Another disruptor blast barely missed his head, and he seemed to get the idea. He ran full-out and dove behind Grace just as the cross lost one of its limbs.

  “My arm!” Sam moaned. It was a burnt, blackened stump, but it wasn’t their biggest problem.

  “You’ll lose more than that if you don’t stay calm. We can fix the arm–if you live. Trust me, I know about this.”

  Sam didn’t seem to be listening. He clutched the stump of his arm and continued moaning.

  She was back in the sub-basement of Coopersfield Plantation again. The men advanced on her...

  Shake it off. “Let’s go!” Grace said. She did not wait to see if he followed her as she ran behind a tall headstone and then immediately darted behind another, and another. She did not stop or look back. She could see the mausoleum clearly now, and the fighting near there seemed less intense. With luck, she would be the first one inside and barricade herself in–picking off soldiers one at a time if they dared approach.

  When she had a clear view of the entrance, however, her heart skipped a beat. There, lit by the red fire of the disruptors’ lasers and the bright moon, she saw Meg, leaning flat against the wall of the stone tomb. Occasionally she thrust her weapon through the entrance and fired into the bowels of the tomb before flattening herself back against the wall.

  Meg! Grace’s heart leaped at the sight of the girl but a moment later deflated–the girl was in mortal danger and Grace had done that. She briefly wondered how the girl had even gotten here, but had no time to think about it and less time to ask.

  “What...now?” Sam panted.

  Grace hesitated. She had no idea, but as she sat there, caught up in indecision, their cover disintegrated around them by yet another blast of a disruptor. “Run!” she shouted.

  She didn’t pause for breath or to consider whether Sam had listened–she had one goal in mind and she had to get there. Meg spotted her as she approached and aimed a disruptor at her, but then she lowered it in recognition. Instead, she aimed to Grace’s right and fired at someone else–someone who had almost gotten a clean shot at Grace.

  Grace reached the relative shelter of the mausoleum’s stone wall and gasped for breath. She had never run so quickly. She could scarcely believe she had made it, and had to pat herself to make sure all her parts were still intact.

  Alex came around the corner then, two disruptors in his hands. “I got us some charged disruptors…Grace!”

  She didn’t have time for a reunion. Quickly, she whirled around, searching for Sam. She spotted him mere feet from the mausoleum, hopping towards her on one foot. The other had been blown off.

  The fear and pain in his eyes were intense and for a moment Grace considered going to him and trying to help him, but only for a moment. The fighting still raged all around them and aiding Sam was more likely to kill them both than save him.

  “Sam!” she cried. For a moment, she had a picture of her life without Sam–really without him. He had been absent for decades and yet she’d always known he was out there. She could always have found him, and recently he had alluded to the possibility they could have had more. Now, after days of trying not to think of him at all, she suddenly felt frightened by the prospect of a world without him.

  To Grace’s surprise, Alex was the one to act. Setting aside the mutual enmity the two men felt for one another, Alex risked his life to run to Sam’s side, pick him up off the ground, and carry him back to the mausoleum.

  Sam seemed to be having trouble talking as he slid down the stone wall to the ground. “Why?” he managed.

  Alex did not have time to answer because at that moment, a disruptor blast came from the heart of the mausoleum.

  “It’s occupied,” Meg explained unnecessarily. “We think only one guy’s in there–the caretaker–but we can’t convince him to let us join him there.”

  Another disruptor blast nearly missed Meg. Grace whirled, spotted a Sewer Rat, and shot him before he had a chance to get off another blast.

  “We have to get inside,” Grace said. “We can’t defend ourselves out here.”

  “He’s hiding behind a sarcophagus,” Alex said. He threw himself around the corner and fired another shot inside. An instant later, an echoing blast came from within.

  “I’ll do it,” Sam gasped.

  “You stay there,” Grace said, “you’re in no shape to—”

  “Shoot me,” Sam managed. It was clear what he meant–she would have to shoot him to stop him. Already, he was using his one leg and one arm to crawl into the open mouth of the tomb.

  “What are you waiting for?” Grace asked. “Give him some cover fire!”

  They took it in turns to fire into the entrance, aiming high so they would not hit Sam. The echoing disruptor blasts told them whoever was inside was still looking too high, expecting someone to walk in.

  Finally, Grace heard a strangled cry from inside and the sound of disruptors discharging. She fired another shot into the interior of the tomb but there was no answering shot. She took that as her cue and rushed inside, her weapon ready before her.

  Two figures struggled inside the tomb–Sam, missing an arm and a leg, and the caretaker, who was wheezing and out of breath. Grace spotted two disruptors lying on the floor a few feet from the fight and she scooped them up.

  “Break it up!” Grace told them.

  The caretaker faltered as he glanced at her. Sam gave him one last shove in the chest and then pulled away, clenching a small metal object in his fist.

  Suddenly, the caretaker not only looked out of shape, but also incredibly old. Grace stared from the metal object to the caretaker, but comprehension was slow in coming. It couldn’t be Jordan. What would he be doing in a graveyard? She couldn’t have led all those soldiers right to him.

  It was a while before anyone broke the silence, and when Alex finally did, his single, whispered word sounded like a cannon. “Granddad.”

  Chapter 32

 
Jordan Lacklin backed into a corner while Sam collapsed into a heap on the floor. “We found him,” he breathed. “Now we just need to find Matt.” But he didn’t lift his wrist to make the call. Instead, he closed his eyes.

  For a terrifying moment, Grace thought he was dead, but when she grabbed his wrist to check his pulse, she breathed a sigh of relief. He was unconscious, which was probably for the best at the moment.

  “Is this the guy you were looking for?” Meg asked. “I looked in that cabin but he wasn’t there; only some guy wearing black that I think was waiting for him in case he showed. I convinced him I was just lost so he didn’t think I knew anything.”

  “Ethan must think I’m pretty stupid,” Jordan said.

  “You talked to Uncle Ethan?” Alex asked.

  Jordan shrugged. “He did most of the talking. He never did know how to listen. Thinks he knows everything.”

  Grace smiled. That seemed like an apt description of the man she’d met.

  “I wish you’d called me,” Alex said. “I would have helped you. I’d have found you a better place to live.”

  “Better than with my Margaret?” Jordan shook his head. He stooped over Sam’s unconscious form and took back the holographic suit. He placed it on his chest, but it fell to the floor with a clatter. “Damn, he broke it.”

  Suddenly, a disruptor blast came in through the entrance. Everyone ducked, and Grace yelled at Meg, “Cover the entrance!”

  Meg and Alex sprinted for opposite sides of the entranceway and took turns firing into the twilit graveyard.

  “Have you come to take me back to prison?” Jordan asked.

  As distracted as she was by the fighting, it was a moment before Grace realized that Jordan was addressing her. “What?”

  “Matt Stanton hired you to look for me. I know you didn’t come here the other day looking for family history.”

  Grace remembered her cover story and her face turned slightly pink. “Matt wants to save the world. What do you want to do?”

  “Matt’s a liar. He doesn’t want to save the world; he wants everyone to die again.” Jordan studied the metal object and after a while, he smiled. “I can fix it. I just need some tools.”

  “The fighting has moved away,” Alex said, though he did not holster his weapon.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Jordan said. “I might have had a chance before that idiot broke my suit, but somebody’ll take me now.”

  “Don’t talk like that,” Alex said. “You used to say there was always hope until you’re d–” Alex broke off and looked out into the graveyard.

  “Finish it,” Jordan ordered.

  “Dead.” Alex didn’t look at him.

  “That’s right.” Jordan glanced down at Sam’s prone form. “He doesn’t look good.”

  “He’ll be fine when we get him back to Medicorp.” She wasn’t as certain as she wished she were. Sam was missing his right arm below the elbow and his left leg below the knee. The leg wound was bleeding–not badly; it was partially cauterized, but bad enough that they couldn’t sit here in the middle of a war zone for hours on end and pretend he’d be okay.

  Grace unfastened her thermal coat and tore some material from the bottom of her shirt, which she fastened in a hasty field dressing around Sam’s leg.

  “That won’t keep long,” Jordan told her.

  The man was beginning to get on her nerves. She hadn’t realized how angry she was at him for playing God until that very moment and something seemed to snap inside of her. She rounded on him, letting her venom fly. “How dare you? How dare you do this to me? Did you know he was my lover for fifty years? Fifty years! You got your wife for that long, but you two had forever and what did I get? Forever to regret ever falling in love! You’ve got some idealized picture of your wife in your mind you’ve been carrying around for centuries, but do you really think you two would still be together after so long if she’d lived?”

  “Yes.”

  Grace blinked. Then she scowled. “What do you know?”

  “Do you want to die?” Jordan asked.

  Grace didn’t answer. She didn’t know how.

  “Neither do I,” Jordan said. “Even after all this time. Even after losing my wife. That’s why I won’t go with you.”

  “What are you talking about? Matt needs you to help undo all of this.”

  “You must be really gullible.” Jordan bent down over Sam’s unconscious form and studied the field dressing. After a moment, he opened Sam’s coat, tore off the right sleeve, which he was only half using anyway, and replaced the dressing with his own. It was good. It would hold much longer than Grace’s would have.

  “It still won’t hold for long,” Jordan said.

  “Thanks.” It was a grudging apology. “I’m still mad at you.”

  “Of course.”

  “What makes you think I’m gullible?”

  “You think you’re on some high and mighty mission to save the world, don’t you?” Jordan asked.

  Grace glanced at Alex, who still had his eyes fixed on the cemetery. He didn’t seem to want to look at his grandfather.

  “What if I do?” Grace asked.

  “Then you’re gullible. Even if you think the world should be put back the way it was; even if you think that’s saving it, that’s not what you’ve been hired to do. Matt doesn’t need me to reverse The Change. He’s got all my notes and he knows I wouldn’t help him anyway.”

  Alex finally turned to look at them. He gave Grace a look that told her he understood something she didn’t. She closed her eyes and went back through their conversation again. Then she thought about the conversations she’d had with Matt Stanton. Finally, she understood. “He did kill his father, and you’re the only proof.”

  Jordan lowered his eyes. “Oh sweet Margaret, what have I done?”

  Alex’s voice was so low they barely heard it. “You killed him.”

  “But Matt asked you to,” Grace finished.

  Jordan didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to.

  “In four hundred years, if man had wanted to learn the secrets of aging, we would have.” Grace had said it almost the same way to Matt back in their first meeting. It was true–they didn’t need Jordan; they just needed someone willing to do the research. Someone like Sam, funded by someone like Matt. Yet, she’d let herself believe that this time she really could do something to help.

  “He had me fooled, too,” Alex said. “I thought the worst he wanted was to put Granddad back in prison.”

  “You never met him face to face, though,” Grace said. “It was my judgment call.”

  “And if you’d failed to take his offer?” Alex asked.

  “He would have hunted me down and killed me within twenty-four hours,” Grace admitted. “My only real choice was not to have taken the meeting in the first place.”

  She walked to the entrance and looked out. “Fighting has died down. That can’t be a good sign.”

  “Probably not,” Alex agreed. “The shield attacks stopped some time ago too.”

  Grace hadn’t noticed but then again, she had gone straight from the sewers to this cemetery. “Do you think Edgers is in the city?”

  “I’m sure of it,” Alex told her. “It’s only a matter of time before the city falls. Most of the troops came off the streets and are just looking for something to eat anyway. They won’t fight, especially not if Edgers’s men offer them food.”

  “That’s all it takes?” Grace asked.

  “That’s what he did in Chicago.” Alex smiled. “I guess that didn’t make your local news, though. I heard it from Mr. Cooper before he died.”

  “All too easy,” Grace mumbled.

  “Of course not. There will be plenty of people left standing to fight. This won’t be a safe city for a while.”

  Sam groaned. Grace knelt by his side. “Lie still, you’re bleeding.”

  “Need to get out.” Sam’s voice was barely a whisper.

  “I know, we’re working on that.”
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br />   “We can’t hand Granddad over to Matt,” Alex said.

  “Matt may not even be a player anymore,” Grace said. “Last time we saw him, the Sewer Rats had him.”

  “Need to save Matt,” Sam said.

  Grace shook her head. She didn’t want to go back through this conversation with Sam. “Try not to talk. Matt’s not who he said he was. He killed his father.”

  “Sort of,” Alex muttered.

  Jordan looked away. “Four hundred years. You have no idea. And he didn’t tell me my Margaret died. Not until after...”

  “We should get Jordan out of the city,” Grace said. “I don’t know what Edger’s game is but I don’t want to find out. We may all have to go. Our lives could be in danger here.”

  “I agree,” Alex said. “Granddad, we’ll get you out of here.”

  Jordan didn’t reply.

  “The wall isn’t far from here,” Meg commented. She fired a couple of shots into the night. “It’s just behind the mausoleum.”

  “It’ll be tough to climb a stone wall,” Grace said.

  “Disruptors will cut a hole through it,” Meg said.

  For some reason, the thought of defacing the cemetery like that bothered her, but it was the only plan that had a reasonable chance of getting them out of there alive–especially carrying Sam.

  “How does it look out there?” Alex asked.

  “Looks like a graveyard,” Meg replied, soberly.

  They spent a moment in silence, whether in fear or respect for the dead, Grace wasn’t sure. She thought of all the people out there who had lost their lives and for what? She thought she’d been on a mission to save the world when instead she’d been on a mission to save some rich man from the consequences of his actions. Did that make her arrogant or foolish?

  Sam coughed several times. “Need to save Matt.”

  “I told you,” Grace said. “This isn’t what he said it was about. He’s got everything he needs to put the world back the way it was, if that’s what he’s after.”

  “Need Jordan,” Sam insisted. “Or they’ll kill Matt.”

  For a moment, Grace thought someone had swung a hatchet into her heart. Sam had known all along. He knew what this was about and he didn’t tell her. She backed away from him, her body numb with shock and disbelief.