In the End

by Lunetta, Demitria

  His hands have fallen from his face. His eyes are huge, his face a mask of such pain and self-loathing that I want to forget all the resentment I feel for him and wrap my arms around him again. But then the horror of what Rice has said sinks in, and I place my hand over my mouth in shock. It shouldn’t be surprising, the lengths that Dr. Reynolds would go, but I can’t imagine the pain that Rice must have felt when he found out. I place my hand on his shoulder, trying to be a comfort.

  “I don’t know how I ever thought he was a great man,” Rice says quietly. “Now he just seems like a madman.”

  A madman who has Baby. I pull away. “Are you sure I can’t get in to see Baby?”

  “I don’t know how, not without giving yourself up to him.”

  “Do you know anything about Brenna?” I ask. “Are they doing the same things to her that they’re doing to Baby? I’m the one who brought Brenna to Ken. Any harm that comes to her is my fault.”

  “Ken is working with her. He hasn’t told anyone that she’s immune. I only know he has her because Kay told me.” He drops his face a little closer to mine. “He won’t hurt her, Amy. He isn’t bad. He hasn’t told anyone about you being here, either.”

  “I don’t think he’s bad,” I say. “He’s the reason I’m here. I think he’s just obsessed with finding a cure, or at least a vaccine.”

  “Just like every other researcher here,” Rice says. “Even I . . . If I could just catch a break. There’s something I’m not seeing.”

  “I understand the need for a Florae vaccine, but I wouldn’t trade Baby for one.”

  Rice looks away, and I get the eerie feeling that he would choose a vaccine over Baby.

  But then he says, “We have to be careful,” and I know he’s still on my side. “Dr. Reynolds is out of control,” he goes on, studying me. “It’s like you’re a ticking time bomb, Amy. You want to help Baby so badly, it’s all you see. If you let yourself go off, you’ll only make things worse for her. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I know, but I feel so powerless. These last few days I’ve been bouncing off the walls. I think I’m going to lose it.”

  “Remember when I told you to be strong, when you were in the Ward?”

  I nod.

  “And that worked, didn’t it?”

  “It did.”

  “So again. Be strong.”

  I look at him, into his pleading eyes, and I nod.

  Rice stands to leave and we hug again, but my arms feel heavy and awkward. I don’t want him to go, but I don’t know why. I make myself step away and say, “Come back when you can.”

  “I will,” he tells me. He leans in, and I think he’ll try to kiss me again, but he almost immediately changes his mind. He straightens up, gives me a curt nod, and then he’s gone.

  During the next twenty-four hours, I can’t sleep or eat the food that Gareth leaves for me. All I do is think of Baby’s face in that video, pale and resigned. A ghost of the happy, vibrant girl I knew.

  I sit cross-legged on the floor and close my eyes, trying to think of nothing. My mind automatically goes to Rice. The way he’s always cleaning his glasses and how his shaggy blond hair always ends up in his eyes. His striking blue eyes—intelligent, caring eyes. Part of me wishes that I could have kissed him again before he left, wish I’d not let him leave at all.

  My mind skips past Rice, and all I can now do is imagine the worst. All the people I know are in danger. And Jacks. The image of his face forces itself into my mind—his brown eyes clouding over into a milky yellow, his tattooed skin slowly turning green. I try to shake it from my imagination. I can’t think of Jacks right now. I just can’t. Surely, he fought them off. He wouldn’t have let his fear endanger his life.

  But still, it wouldn’t matter, would it? Even a trained Guardian would eventually have been overwhelmed by the Floraes. The image of the monsters taking Jacks down returns; he’s changing him into one of Them—

  I shake my head.

  I don’t care what Kay and Gareth say. I can’t wait for them, and I don’t care what’s out there. I can’t stay in this room a minute more. I go to the door, open it wide, and walk out.

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  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  When I step through the door I nearly run into Kay, dressed in her synth-suit. She stares at me for a moment before whispering, “Amy, what the hell are you doing out here?” She grabs my arm and tries to pull me back in. You know you can’t be seen.”

  “I’m going to get Baby. It can’t wait any longer.”

  She shakes her head. “Don’t be stupid. Do you think you can take on Dr. Reynolds and half the Guardians? You could die.”

  “I would die for her, to give her a chance.”

  “And what was your plan?” She raises his eyebrows.

  “Break into the lab. I’ve done it before. Find where they’re keeping Baby . . . get her and escape.” As I say it aloud, I realize how ridiculous I sound. I have no real course of action, just a desperate need to make sure Baby is safe. “Kay, I can’t lose her.”

  “I know, Amy, but have a little faith.” She holds something out to me. It’s a key card, Level One. “Ken gave this to me. We have to get into Dr. Reynolds’s office and see where he’s holding Baby. This card will give us access to anywhere in the lab. We should be able to sweep in and get her. We’ll stash you both just outside of New Hope, but within range of the emitters. Then we’ll figure out what to do with you from there.”

  “What about Marcus?” I shudder slightly, remembering his ferocity and skill in all forms of combat, a result of his military training, as well as the ruthlessness of the Elite Eight—the Guardians loyal to him.

  “Gareth is going to keep Marcus occupied, and we have someone on the inside who said Dr. Reynolds will be in psyche-evals all morning.”

  “Rice?” I smile.

  “No, he’s too close to Dr. Reynolds. We thought it was better not to involve him, so he can have plausible deniability. He’s our plan B.”

  I nod, knowing that Rice won’t like being cut out of the loop. But at least now I have my chance. I’m going to get Baby.

  Kay has me pull down the hood of my synth-suit and walk next to her, out of the building and across the Quad. I know I won’t pass for any of the male Guardians, the synth-suit is too tight fitting for that, but at a glance I might resemble Jenny, though she’s a little smaller than I am. Hopefully no one is paying close attention, and most of the people we pass don’t even spare us a second glance.

  It brings back strange feeling to walk to the lab where my world was shattered. I’d stolen Rice’s keycard and broken in to confront my mother, who admitted her part in the Florae apocalypse, the creation of the bacterium that caused the infection. I shudder as we reach the black door, marking the lab as a restricted area. I glance up and find a newly installed camera staring back at us. I hold my breath, hoping our ploy will work.

  Kay swipes the clearance card and the door unlocks. I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding. We walk right into the lab building as if we belong there, and take the elevator to the bottom floor, Level B5, where all the research happens.

  Kay leads me through the hall. With my hood pulled down, I’m just another Guardian. Marcus’s cronies, the Elite Eight, have been conducting random inspections under Dr. Reynolds’s orders, so no one questions us.

  We walk the labyrinth of hallways, through doors to restricted areas, and past an open doorway where a group of researchers are gathered around a table in a conference room. I falter and let out a small gasp.

  One of the researchers is my mother.

  She looks ragged, her face lined with stress. Kay sees her too and grabs my arm to get me moving again. I can feel my mother’s eyes on me as we hurry away. Can she recognize the shape of my body? My gait? Will she raise the alarm?

  When we’ve
turned a corner out of sight, Kay murmurs, “Do you think she realized it was you?”

  “No.” I shake my head, willing it to be true. “She would’ve said something.”

  “We can circle back a different way, hide you again.”

  “No. Let’s stick to the plan,” I say.

  Dr. Reynolds’s office is near my mother’s. I keep checking behind us, worrying that my mother has followed us, but the hall remains clear. Kay turns the handle and it opens.

  A feeling of alarm tickles my senses. It wasn’t locked? We did have to go through multiple security checks, but still . . .

  We slip inside the office, and Kay points to a camera mounted in the corner. “Last night I distracted Marcus while Gareth got into the surveillance room. I set a ten-minute loop of the empty office. No one can see us.”

  “That’s why the door wasn’t locked: Dr. Reynolds would rather see what people are up to than prevent them from entering altogether.”

  Kay nodded as I shuffle through the papers on Dr. Reynolds’s desk. There are stacks of manila folders, names written neatly on the tabs at the side. Each folder represents a patient in the Ward. I open one: It details a course of treatment for a woman with “paranoid delusions of conspiracy.” I grimace, seriously doubting that the woman’s paranoia is a delusion.

  I put the folder down and rifle through the rest, checking the name on each. No Hannah O’Brian.

  Kay places an oversized sheet of paper before me. “Look.” It’s a map of the labs, just what we need. “Ken said Baby was in Florae Research.”

  There’s a room at the center marked FR LEVEL ONE CLEARANCE—FPV ONLY. I jab it with my fingertip and look up at Kay. “FR—Florae Research? Has to be. But what is FPV?”

  “I don’t know. Ken didn’t say anything about that. We didn’t have much time to talk, though.”

  We study the map, trying to memorize the twists and turns that will take us to find Baby. After a moment of intense concentration, I say, “I think I’ve got it. Let’s go.”

  Kay nods, placing the map back where she found it, under a pile of books. I make sure all the folders are on Dr. Reynolds’s desk the way they were before I disturbed them and join Kay by the door. Stepping out into the hall, we navigate the lab. We pass a few researchers, but none of them appear to give us a second thought.

  At the black door labeled FLORAE RESEARCH, Kay swipes the ID card. Nothing happens. The door doesn’t budge. Kay tries it again. Nothing.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She touches a clear pad next to the card reader and sighs. “Well, now we know what FPV means. Finger Print Verification. We need a Clearance One fingerprint to get in.”

  “What do we do now?” I ask, starting to panic.

  “Well, we can start by not hanging out here, looking sketchy.” She turns and walks down the hall. I run to catch up.

  “Do we need Dr. Reynolds’s fingerprint?” My heart sinks. If so, we’ll have to turn back now, before we’ve even begun.

  “No . . . just someone with clearance. I think I know who we can ask.” We turn a corner, and Kay stops at a door. Again, I instantly think of Rice, but obviously, Kay purposefully wants to keep him out of this. “Who?”

  “The same person who told us that Dr. Reynolds would be busy all day.”

  She knocks and after a moment there is a curt “Come in.” We step through the door into a small office, and I’m relieved to find Dr. Samuels seated behind a cluttered desk. He still wears the same yellow bowtie and tweed jacket, but looks older than I remember. Everyone’s appearance seems to have changed for the worse in the short time I’ve been gone.

  Dr. Samuels stares at us, then reaches into a desk drawer and pulls out a pistol. I take a surprised step back as Dr. Samuels points it at us.

  “You will not be taking me to the Ward,” he says, his face oddly calm, then raises the gun’s barrel to his temple, closes his eyes, and squeezes the trigger.

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  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Nothing happens.

  Dr. Samuels looks as shocked as I feel. Kay rips her hood off, and Dr. Samuels stares at her, his look of surprise giving way to one of glazed horror.

  “I . . . I thought they’d finally come for me. . . .” He’s wide-eyed, mouth gaping, and turns to the gun in his hand. He sets the weapon on his desk then yanks his hand away as if he’s been burned.

  Kay steps over and plucks the gun off the desk. “Holy crap, when I gave this to you it didn’t occur to me you’d use it for that.” She checks the gun. “Good thing the safety was on.”

  “Yes.” Dr. Samuels lets out a nervous sigh. “Quite.” He places his hand on his chest and watches as Kay removes the clip and tucks it into one of her pockets. After checking the chamber, Kay sets the pistol on the desk. Dr. Samuels stares at it. “I just couldn’t risk being taken.”

  My heart threatening to pound out of my ribcage, I pull down my hood. Dr. Samuels’s mouth drops open. “Amy,” he whispers. He takes me in for a moment. “I suppose I knew you’d be back, for your sister.” He nods at the gun on the desk between us. “I thought you were Marcus’s men, come to take me away because of what I did for you.”

  I’m still shaken by his attempted suicide, but if we want to get to Baby, we need to keep moving. “I know you’ve taken huge risks already, getting the message to us, stealing the key cards,” I say. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. And I know you’re worried about being caught. . . . But please, we need your help again.”

  Dr. Samuels looks at us silently for a long moment. “What do you need?”

  “A fingerprint. To get into the section of the lab where they’re holding Baby.”

  Dr. Samuels nods. “Yes, FPV. Put into effect just recently.” He straightens his bow tie, rubs his hands through his sparse, white hair.

  “Will you help us?” I ask.

  He rubs his temples again then eyes the gun on the desk. “Well, three minutes ago, I tried to kill myself.” He looks up at us with a faint smile. “So obviously fear of death isn’t my problem.”

  “I don’t blame you,” I say quietly. “If you thought you were going to the Ward.”

  “Torture,” he says grimly. “That’s what they’re doing there, I know. That’s what they’re doing to that little girl, your sister. It’s . . . it’s an abomination. We’re doctors,” he hisses. “We took an oath to do no harm.” He gives his head a sharp shake. “We’re human beings.” He slaps his palms onto his desk and stands. “Let’s go.”

  We flank him on the way back to the restricted area, where he swipes his keycard and pushes his finger on the pad. The door swings open and we’re through it.

  I have no idea which of the many doors hides Baby from me, yet have to tell myself not to run down the hall ahead of them. I have to control my emotions, not let them take control, or I’ll end up doing something stupid.

  Dr. Samuels stops at a door, swipes his card again, and taps a code into the keypad. He scans his print. The door opens to a dorm-style room.

  Immediately I suck in a breath, paralyzed by the sight of Baby sitting at a child-sized table, coloring in a book.

  There are a few toys, a few books on her bed, but everything else about the room is clinical. Hard, cold surfaces. Her bright-yellow jumpsuit blazes in the glaring light.

  I am unable to move or even react. My time in the Ward floods back to me. I would spend days at a time in my room there, living the same bare existence that Baby is living here, drugged and numb. I begin to shake, my limbs no longer under my control. I stare at Baby, who hasn’t bothered to look up at the open door. I feel a hand on my back, Kay’s reassuring touch, and I know I have to push through the pain. I can’t fall apart now, not when I’m so close to saving her.

  I step into the room and walk slowly to Baby’s side, pulling off my hood so I don’t scar
e her. She never used to want to color. The swoosh sound of the crayon across the paper unnerved her. I kneel next to her as she scribbles furiously on the page, oblivious the noise she is creating. I circle her in my arms and pull her to me.

  She’s limp in my embrace. I pull back and examine her.

  “Baby . . . it’s me. I’m so glad you’re okay.” When she doesn’t respond, I pet her head. “Baby?”

  At last she seems to focus on me, and my heart swells—and then breaks again when she opens her mouth to speak:

  “My name is Hannah,” she says. “Who are you?”

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  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  She can’t have forgotten me. It’s not possible. I place my hand in hers and sign, It’s me, Amy.

  Her hand remains lifeless in mine. Her fingers are freezing, her skin chalky white.

  Baby, I try again. I’m here to take you away with me. She still doesn’t respond, so I say aloud, “I’ve come to get you. I’m going to take you away from here.”

  For the first time Baby reacts with something other than indifference. “But I want to stay,” she tells me, her face scrunched in worry. She reaches up and twirls a hair around her finger. Before I can stop her, she tugs it free. I move her hair aside gently, revealing a pink bald patch on her scalp, agitated and raw.

  “Oh, Baby. I’m so sorry. I should have come sooner. I tried, I really did.” How have I allowed them to turn Baby into this zombie child? I blink hard, battling back tears.

  Kay and Dr. Samuels are whispering at the door. Then Kay’s calling to me. “Amy, what’s the holdup? We’ve got to get going.”

  “She doesn’t”—I turn to Dr. Samuels, swallowing my emotion—“she doesn’t recognize me.”