The Plague Box Set [Books 1-4]

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The Plague Box Set [Books 1-4] Page 43

by Jones, Isla


  Facing the wall, he asked in a tired voice, “Why is it so hard for you to keep to your own business?”

  I got the feeling it was a rhetorical question. My gaze landed on the floor and I bunched up my hands.

  “You had no right to touch that,” he said, his voice breaking—cold, hard anger revealed beneath the cracks. “You have no right to half the stuff you do.”

  “Why do you draw me?” The strangled question blurred out from my unwilling lips.

  I heard his scoff of disbelief before he turned to slice me with his stare. I couldn’t bear to look at him.

  “Why did you let me think you were pregnant?” he threw back at me.

  He drew back until the desk touched him.

  My fingers dug into the edge of the bed and I dared a look up at him. The sheer intensity of his eyes hit the air out of my lungs. I had no more lies to tell.

  “I don’t know.” I shook my head, the itch of a tear tickling my cheek. “It happened and then … We all just got so busy and … Maybe I didn’t want to tell you the truth.”

  “I’m beginning to think truth is a foreign concept to you, Winter,” he said quietly.

  I wiped at my cheeks. They were wet again within seconds. A stream had started, unlocked, and I couldn’t rein it back in.

  “What I did was fucked up,” I admitted. “But that whole superior bullshit isn’t gonna work, Castle. You’re a liar as much as I am. More, even.”

  Castle let defeat slump his shoulders. He bowed his head and set his jaw, hard.

  “Both of you have been lying to me since day one,” I said through a snivel.

  Shadows stretched up his dark expression. “Leave Leo out of this. Right now, this is between you and I.”

  “What’s there to say?” My face twisted under the threat of sobs. “Now that you don’t need me anymore, I just figured we’d stay out of each other’s way.”

  The dark expression turned ugly as he curled his lip into a smirk-sneer hybrid. “And into the way of others?”

  Confused, I just frowned at him.

  The sneer drifted from his lips, leaving a bitter smirk in its place. “Adam told me how busy you’ve been, making friends.”

  “Don’t,” I hissed. “Don’t be that guy. I ruined Mason’s cheesecake, I apologised, and that’s all there is to it.” I bowed my head, ignoring the strands of peachy hair that fell over my face. Leo’s implications echoed in my mind, his roundabout way of calling me a slut when he realised I’d been with Castle. The memory gritted my words; “Don’t be like Leo just because your ego’s bruised.”

  Silence met me in answer.

  I sniffed back snot and used my sleeve to wipe at my eyes.

  Castle chewed on his thoughts. It wasn’t until he looked at the wall that he managed to spit out those thoughts into words. “When it comes to you, Winter, I never know what to think or expect. You’re harder to read than I’d ever imagined.”

  I hid behind my sleeves, tugged over my hands, and smiled a grotesque smile. “I can’t do this.”

  Though my hands muffled my words, panic surged between us both. Tears gathered at the back of my throat; I swallowed them down.

  Castle saw me cry, but he didn’t get to see the breakdown that swept through me.

  “I’m barely holding on,” I finished in a whisper. “Being here changed nothing for me. I’m empty. I feel … dead.”

  Why is it that with Castle, truths I hadn’t even realised came spilling out of me? I might not be the key anymore, but he has one to my secrets.

  After a beat, Castle spoke softly—as softly as he could with undercurrents of storms roughening his voice. “Are you taking the pills?”

  “Of course you know about those,” I groaned into my hands.

  “They were prescribed at my suggestion.”

  “Oh?” My hands slapped to my lap, leaving my blotchy, wet face bare. “And when did you become a qualified psychiatrist? When did you think it was your right to control my medical treatments?”

  “A minute or so after our talk on the stoop.” His response was firm, unyielding. No apology or shame. “They will help you. Depression is a serious condition, to you especially.” He jerked his head to my stomach, where my wound was bandaged tight behind my top. “When it comes to you and your mindset, I’m more concerned about your mental health than that bullet wound.”

  I pressed my hand to my stomach and looked up at him from behind clouded eyes. “Why do you even care?”

  Castle tore from the table and advanced on me. “Do you want to get into this?”

  No. But instead of voicing that, I shrugged and turned my gaze down.

  “Fine,” he said. “I care because when I first met you, I despised you. I thought you were stupid, inconsiderate, rebellious and entitled.” He held up his hand. “No, not entitled—spoilt. To me, you were a spoilt brat, too nosy for your own good.”

  I glowered up at him. “How did you become this charming?”

  Castle ignored me. “The day I realised why Leo brought you into the circle, the attack separated the group. I was stuck with you.”

  My tears still leaked, but they’d turned to tears of anger. Glare glued to his face, I clenched my jaw and endured the sudden rush of rage that ached to kick him between the legs.

  “I came to know you,” he said, as if admitting to a terrible crime. He lifted his shoulders lightly and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I learned that you’re stubborn and infuriating and proud. Never in my life have I met anyone as nosy as you, or as naively cunning. You set expectations of yourself low, then surprise everyone around you with how devious you can be.”

  “So this is honesty hour, is it?” I arched my brow. “All right, my turn. I hated you then, and I hate you now. I would take another bullet if it meant smacking the crap out of your arrogant face. But I’m not jumping into tangents about it, am I?”

  I do, though. In my diary. But that doesn’t count.

  “The point,” spat Castle, “is that my …”

  He paused to take a deep breath that filled his lungs and puffed out his chest. It was almost as though he was about to do something nerve-wracking, like jump out of a plane or swim with rotters.

  “Do you recall what I told you at the auto-shop?”

  I looked at him blankly. “You told me a few things there, some of them lies no doubt.”

  “One thing in particular was true,” he said. “It was true then, and it still is today.”

  I only managed a shrug and frustrated, glassy stare.

  Castle dragged his hand down his face. “Are you going to make me say it?”

  “Say what?” I snapped. “All you ever say is a whole bunch of nothing! You’re wasting my time, so speak or I’m out.”

  His pregnant pause jolted with panic. With a huff, I slid off the bed and stretched out my sore stomach. Before I could turn for the door, Castle moved in front of me and blocked my way.

  “Damnit, Winter,” he muttered. “Since after the cabin … my feelings turned on me. I’d been trying to figure you out and keep you close enough so you wouldn’t kill yourself … and while doing that, I fell into your trap.”

  “My trap.” I scoffed. If I had such a thing, Castle is the only man to have ever commented on it, or ‘fallen into’ it.

  “Leo came back” continued Caste. “The moment he did, you pulled away.”

  I took a step closer and jabbed my finger against his chest. “I did no such thing,” I hissed. “You know exactly what happened, and it wasn’t Leo.”

  Castle’s voice rose; “I waited for you by that RV when he came back. You walked past me as if I wasn’t there at all. Without a word, you turned your back on me. The next time I saw you, you’d ripped off Leo’s shirt and directed your fit at me. You disobeyed orders in place for a reason, broke into the restricted RV, and in there …” He hesitated, then growled his next words, “You looked at me with utter hatred and disgust.”

  I choked on a watery laugh. “That’s not
fair, Castle. It was much more than that.”

  “Yes, I lied to you.” He spat the words at me. “The same way you lied to me about your pregnancy and how you would choose me over Leo. When you made that promise to me, you lied. That’s the difference, Winter. Never did I lie to you about what was happening between us. My lies revolved around my duties.”

  My chest heaved with anger; a hot flush gathered at my cheeks as I breathed those shaky words at him; “I remember, Castle. I remember when I woke up in that caravan, bleeding to death, and I saw you.”

  He blanched and looked at the wall.

  “You were bored.” My voice squeaked out of its whisper, and my hands trembled at my sides. “You stood there, wrapping a bandage around your hand, and watched me almost die like I was nothing. So you know what you can do?” I swallowed back a thick sob and stepped around him. “You can shove your lies up your ass where they came from. Though, I’m not sure you’ll find room, what with the stick already up there.”

  Without a backwards glance, I stormed out of the room and left him to marinate in his anger. I had too much of my own to tame.

  Castle didn’t try to stop me.

  21.

  Even with the drowsy effects of the pills, the days grew increasingly harder to get through. Some days, I let the knocks at the door go unanswered (Summer would let herself in any time she pleased). Then came the days that the pills picked me up and took me out of my room.

  That morning, a week into the CDC, Vicki dropped off Cleo before she went to spend the whole day in the ICU with Mac. He was waking up, slipping in and out.

  I took Cleo to breakfast and sat her on the chair beside me. Some of the white coats shot me dirty looks for having a dog at the dinner table with me, but if they’d spent a few minutes in the world outside with our group, they would have learned that hygiene and proper manners died a long time ago.

  Castle sat a few seats away from me with the other deltas. It was difficult to ignore the sheer burn of his constant stare on me—a stare so fierce that it scared off the others from talking to me.

  I ate alone, as I normally did. I’m ok with that … most of the time.

  But that day, I felt a little starved for company, so it was a relief when I bumped into Mason in the partition corridor (the one that separates the residential wing from the other wings).

  Mason was quick to kneel and greet Cleo. He grinned up at me.

  “You’re up and about,” he observed. “A good day, then?”

  “Would be better if I could find Summer,” I said. “Do you know what corridor her room is in?”

  Mason’s lopsided grin dazzled from his mocha skin. “White coats live in a nicer wing,” he said, rubbing Cleo’s head. “They’ve got a garden and working pool.” At my raised brow, he added, “This place was built for an outbreak or a war. With all the resources here, human lives can be sustained for over a century. How can that be done without a pool?”

  I didn’t laugh at his joke. Instead, I squeaked my plimsole against the hospital-like floor. Linoleum, I think it’s called.

  “Why not ask Corporal Hill to let you through?” he asked.

  I rested my shoulder on the wall. “Can he do that?”

  Mason laughed to himself. “Corporal Hill can do whatever he wants. He’s the only high rank around here still in the Common Halls.”

  I assumed the Common Halls were the residential corridors, but …

  A crease knitted my brows together. “The deltas are high ranking?”

  Mason’s grin faded somewhat as he stood. “I’ll take you. I can’t let you out of my sight outside of this wing, but I can take you to Dr Miles.”

  I pushed myself from the wall and gave him a once over. “I really hope you weren’t lying about being gay.”

  He just laughed, but I’d meant it. I couldn’t handle another hetero-man adding stress to my life.

  “Did you take any of the others?” I asked.

  Mason swatted Cleo’s fur from his pants. “Dr Miles asked me to look out for you.”

  I remembered her comment on his cheesecake, how he’d worked hard on it and silently demanded an apology. “Are you two close?”

  Mason considered the question. “Your sister does amazing work here. I have the upmost respect for her. If any advancements are made, it will be because of Dr Miles’ efforts.”

  “So you’re like her lackey?”

  He seemed to think it was a joke. It wasn’t, but he gestured me down the hall with a smile on his lips.

  The Lab Maze (Mason’s words) was on the same level as the Common Halls, but through doors not unlike those in decontamination. Mason had to swipe his ID card and type in a code to open them.

  As we wandered the halls, I caught a glimpse of elevators through a thick, clear door. With all the gadgets on the wall, I got the impression that Mason’s ID card wouldn’t be enough to let him through. That door needed ‘top ranking personnel’ to open.

  I halted our stroll at an open room without doors.

  The beauty snatched the breath from my lungs.

  Before me was an open room, double the size of my own, not unlike those gardens that rich people visited for long walks—botanical, I think they’re called. The wall opposite was painted with all the colours of nature: a deep blue lake that glittered beneath a sunny sky, and in the distance were trees so bushy and green that I was half-tempted to slip into the painting myself just to smell the promise of nature that it couldn’t deliver.

  “Is …” I hovered in the entrance, wide eyes shifting between stone pews and pot plants overflowing with lush, green leaves. “Is this the garden?”

  Cleo thought it was the garden too. She bolted straight into the painted wall.

  “Oh shit!” I scrambled over to her and scooped her up. Her black eyes, dazed, blinked at me a while. I ignored the jolt of pain in my stomach and held her weight close to me.

  Mason stayed at the entrance.

  “This is just the retreat room,” he said. “It’s supposed to zen us or some rubbish like that. White coats use it the most.”

  I nudged the pebbled floor with my shoe.

  “It’s not rubbish,” I said quietly. Something had lifted off of me—a weight from my shoulders, heart, and soul. I felt lighter in there. “Can we stay for a bit?”

  Mason didn’t get the chance to deny my request.

  I’d quickly sat myself on a stone pew that faced the painted wall and hugged Cleo to my lap. The fresh, familiar aroma of pine-needles snuck up my nostrils and warmed my insides.

  Mason hung back.

  I shut my eyes and soon forgot he was there at all. The faux nature lured me in so deep that I felt its effects stronger than the pills’.

  I don’t know how long I sat there, lost in the sweetness of it all, before a stampede of footsteps trampled my tranquil mind.

  I looked over my shoulder.

  Mason leaned against a stone pillar and faced the end of the corridor where the stampede came from. The deltas marched into my sight.

  Castle checked over papers with Leo beside him, Adam tailing them as usual.

  Castle paused when he spotted Mason.

  Glacier eyes snapped to me. Every inch of his face hardened.

  “Ms Miles wasn’t feeling so perky this mornin’,” said Mason. “This is the closest to fresh air I can give. Hope it’s all right with you, Corporal.”

  Leo rubbed his lips together, his eyes—the same forest green from the painted wall—swerving between me and Mason. I sighed hoarsely and slid off the pew. Every gaze followed me as I carried Cleo back to the corridor.

  My moment of calm was over before I could really lose myself in it.

  Face like stone, Castle pierced into me with his fierce gaze, but still, he asked, “How did you find it?”

  I gestured to the soldier. “Mason showed me, like he said.”

  Castle’s stone mask cracked. He fought a slanted smile, and the sight had my heart lurching. “I meant how did you find the room
—was it to your liking?”

  “Oh. Ohh.” I nodded, face aflame. “It was … really nice, yeah. Like being outside, but safer.”

  I could’ve described better than that, but as I stood there, I felt like I’d been dunked into a pot of uncomfortable stew and left to simmer.

  Satisfied, Castle gave a brisk nod to Mason—who relaxed some—then strode down the hall. The deltas left through one of those special doors with thumbpad-readers and code buttons.

  Castle’s swift code had the door opening in a blink.

  I studied the door curiously. “What’s through there?”

  Mason just smirked then jerked his head down the opposite corridor. “Your sister should be down this way.”

  Mason led the way through the rest of the Lab Maze.

  His secrecy only tickled my interest.

  *

  Summer was on the other side of the glass.

  Strapped to a chair that looked like it belonged in a dentist clinic was the rotter-boy, Noah. From his groggy state, I had no doubt that he was sedated. His dazed eyes wandered around as though he could see everything, but not quite understand.

  Summer was perched on a stool, goggles stuck to her heart-shaped face, and her glove-wrapped hands switched blood slides underneath a scope.

  Mason knocked once before he swiped his ID card through a slot.

  The door slid open.

  Summer looked up. Once she spotted me, a sweeping smile lit up her face.

  I wandered inside, Mason by the door.

  “Winner.” She spoke my nickname with such relief that my own lips tugged into a smile. “Put on gloves and goggles,” she added and gestured to Cleo bundled in my arms. “Mason, could you ...”

  He heard her unspoken order and took Cleo from me. My heart skipped a beat. But he held her by the door and shot me a wink.

  Was I making a friend, I wondered?

  “Our no dog policy is quite strict,” said Summer. “Goggles, gloves, now.”

  I fingered through the gear on the metal table. Temptation lured my gaze to a lab coat on a hook. My willpower collapsed. In a blink, I was draped in the full get-up, flexing my fingers in purple gloves, and a white coat drowning me.

 

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