Infiltration (Infiltration Book 1)

by Susanna Rogers

  I pushed the laptop aside. Damn it, I wasn’t even sure what I was hoping to discover. That he’d been researching weapons of mass destruction? Membership to an anarchistic group looking to overthrow the world? At the very least perhaps an interest in a Nazi-inspired organization?

  With ample time up my sleeve, I searched his room. Books and papers were arranged in neat piles on an enormous desk. I rummaged around. Nothing. He’d taped a child’s picture of a family playing in a park on the wall in front of his desk. By Celia, no doubt.

  Ben’s closet was huge with neatly hung and folded clothes at one end, and miscellaneous sporting equipment at the other. I rifled through. This was useless.

  Then an idea came to me, not something to do with Ben, but an idea nonetheless. I grabbed the laptop and typed in the Everill’s names. I found Lydia’s professional profile and resume – a software developer.

  I hit the jackpot with Angelo Everill. In fact, I couldn’t believe what I found. The computing teacher had been accused of sexual abuse by two previous students who’d been 14 and 15 years old at the time of the alleged abuse.

  This couldn’t have been better. For me, that is. No way would my parents want a pedophile in the house with their daughter. At least one problem was being averted.

  After that, climbing out of the window and down the tree was even easier than getting in. At the bottom, I brushed myself off, checked my surroundings and walked away. I could go home but decided on the community center instead since Ben had practically invited me.

  When I arrived, parents and children in dance costumes were milling around outside the building on their way to their vehicles. The class must be over. The other parents, mostly mothers, chatted to each other while Ben came out alone. Celia was in front of him with a little friend, the two of them holding hands and skipping.

  Ben saw me and waved. “What are you doing here?”

  I stepped closer. “How was the dance performance?”

  “Fine. I didn’t think dancing was your kind of thing. Did you do this as a kid or something?”

  I placed a hand on my chest. “Me?”

  He nudged me gently as we walked toward his car parked up the street. “I take it that’s a ‘no’. I can’t picture you in a tutu.”

  “What about Celia? How did she go?”

  “She had a ball. She absolutely loves this stuff. That makes it all worthwhile.”

  “Worthwhile?”

  He shrugged. “It’s just an expression.”

  Still, it was an odd thing to say.

  Ben stopped near his car, one eye on Celia and her friend by the side of the road. “Do you really want to know?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “I had to give up football for dance practice, and the other guys on the team gave me a hard time.”

  I stood beside Ben. “But you’re not the one doing dancing.”

  “Not exactly. Between martial arts and football practice, all my time was taken up and there wasn’t anything left for Celia. Something had to go. I didn’t want her to miss out. It wasn’t a big deal. I loved martial arts too much to give it up, so it had to be football.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “And that didn’t go down well?”

  “No, the other guys didn’t get it. They said I’d let the team down.” He flicked his hand in the air. “Anyway, it was pretty juvenile dreaming about being a football player.”

  Technically we were probably both still juveniles. I didn’t point this out. I also didn’t believe for a minute there’d been no sacrifice on his part.

  I looked around. “What happened to Celia and…?”

  One playful push and Celia had ended up on the road. In an instant, Ben reached across and pulled her back. Excellent reflexes. A slow-moving car had already stopped, so it wasn’t quite a moment of life or death.

  Ben crouched by his sister on the sidewalk. “You’ve got to be more careful, Celia. I absolutely can not lose you too.”

  “I wasn’t lost,” she said. “I was on the road.”

  What was Ben so afraid of? It hadn’t even been a particularly close call. Kids wandered off and did silly things all the time.

  He wrapped his arms around his sister and pulled her close while she flung her scrawny arms over his neck. His eyes squeezed shut, he put everything he had into that hug, or as much as he could without squashing the little girl.

  Though I had a big brother in New Nation, I’d never experienced a moment like this one. I’d never felt loved like that. Never felt much of anything. At least I’d always tried not to.

  But I felt it now – a wisp of jealousy for what I’d missed out on, amazement at the scene unfolding in front of me, and a longing I’d never experienced before. I felt it all. And I had to stop feeling. This wasn’t supposed to be happening.

  Ben cared about Celia.

  And I shouldn’t. I left them to it. His love for her was selfish and had nothing to do with the greater good of humanity. If I’d had any doubts about my mission before, there were none now.

  I had bigger things to worry about.

  Chapter Eight

  Back to school, back to a routine, back to things I was much more comfortable with. Mr. Rodriguez had organized a science excursion to a chemical laboratory to balance out the theory in our study with a practical example.

  “This is so boring,” Lauren whispered as we passed through one of the labs.

  “Yeah.” This time, I had to agree. The only thing I’d learnt so far was that I was never going to be an expert in biochemistry.

  The chemical lab looked, well, like a chemical laboratory with lots of white benches, computers and scientific equipment, and walls of testing equipment I couldn’t identify.

  Contrary to my expectation, the staff didn’t have white lab coats. Instead, they wore baggy pants and tops similar to surgical scrubs, mostly in shades of green and blue.

  “I’d never take a job where I had to wear one of those terrible hair nets like these dudes,” Lauren said.

  “Good point.” That wouldn’t be a problem since I didn’t think they’d have her anyway.

  Mr. Rodriguez led us along an elevated walkway that looked down onto another laboratory. Inside, the staff wore what appeared to be white space suits. Covered from head to toe, they looked out through glass bubbles that shielded their heads.

  The teacher introduced us to Nick Sheridan, the laboratory manager.

  “These scientists are dealing with extremely volatile substances and must exercise the utmost care,” he said. “The pharmaceuticals they’re investigating may be used for medical cures or treatments or the prevention of disease in the future. The research is time consuming and painstaking.”

  One student put his hand up. “How come they need to wear all that gear? Is it really that dangerous?”

  “Yes, it is,” Mr. Sheridan said. “We don’t know the exact effects of some of these drugs. That’s why they’re being investigated. The researchers could be infected with something and that infection could spread. It could be fatal.”

  My mouth fell open. He had no idea how accurate that was. Neither did the people standing around me.

  “There could be an epidemic,” I said, rather too loudly. “You wouldn’t even see it coming. A virus could wipe most of the population and, that’s it, you’re all gone.”

  Silence. Followed by laughter. And even applause.

  I shrank on the spot. I’d said the wrong thing again. Lauren put her arm around me and gave me a quick squeeze. She was giggling too.

  “You may laugh,” Mr. Sheridan said, then waited until the noise subsided. “But the young lady has a point. That’s exactly why we have such extreme safeguards.”

  Somewhere along the line, the safeguards must’ve slipped. In 2041 a virus would spread across the globe and the population would be obliterated.

  As I looked around at the faces around me, I wondered which of the students in my class would survive. They were people and they were alive. For now.
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br />   Suddenly the history I’d learnt was much more than dates and facts and statistics. The figures about fatalities were no longer faceless people who’d died long before I was born. They were all around me. One day most of them would perish and all of them would suffer. It was too horrible to think about.

  Lauren gave me a gentle nudge while Mr. Sheridan kept talking. “You need to lighten up, Nicola.”

  I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t feeling very ‘light’.

  Ben raised his hand to ask a question. “Surely if the government spent less money on defense and more on medical research, you’d be able to find more cures for diseases.”

  “Yes,” Mr. Sheridan said. “There’s a direct correlation between the size of our budget and the results we produce. Unfortunately, the work we do is expensive and it costs a lot to run this place. We’re not a pharmaceutical company. This is a government research facility that relies heavily on public funding.”

  Ben’s hand shot up again. “If biochemists want to find treatments for individual diseases, where do they start? How do they go about it?”

  “Good question,” Mr. Sheridan said. “Generally, it takes years of concerted research. Sometimes, discoveries are made by accident but most of the time nothing happens the easy way.”

  Ben was about to ask something else when Mr. Rodriguez interjected to say this was the end of our visit.

  We headed outside toward the bus, only to find the vehicle was there but the driver had disappeared, so we waited while Mr. Rodriguez headed across the road to find him.

  Ben brushed up beside me, by accident, of course. “You made an impression in there.”

  “I could say the same about you.”

  He shrugged. “I just think there are better things we could be doing with government funds than inventing wars in foreign countries and killing people.”

  My eyes wide, I swallowed.

  Ben continued. “Wouldn’t it be better to spend that money helping people and improving lives? Not everyone is as well off as you and me. There are plenty of kids who don’t even get a chance at a good education. With more money, we could give those people something to look forward to, better lives, lives with hope.”

  “Wow.” Perhaps I should’ve come up with something more intelligent but that was the best I could do.

  Ben didn’t sound like a future mass murderer, not that I’d met many in the past or had a comparison point. I was fairly sure, however, that psychopaths weren’t interested in giving people opportunities or helping them.

  “So what would you do with the funding?” I asked.

  “That doesn’t really matter. I’m never going to be a politician so I’ll never be in a position to decide. That’s part of the problem. The people with the power to make those decisions don’t care enough.”

  I frowned. “That's so…empathetic.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  Ben didn’t just care about himself and Celia. He cared about a lot of things. I felt something deep inside, surprise at his compassion, a sense of warmth. His humanity touched me.

  Or maybe it just touched a nerve. This didn’t fit with what I’d been told about Ben Tanner. Nothing fit. I had to focus.

  The timing had never been better to bring up the subject of mass annihilation of the human race, not a subject that came up in everyday conversation.

  “What did you think about the idea of an infection being released and causing an epidemic?” I asked.

  “Mr. Sheridan must’ve been talking about the possibility of some sort of industrial accident,” Ben said. “There’s no way someone would release dangerous chemicals into the air and put lives at risk on purpose.”

  “It’s a possibility, though.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What on earth would drive someone to release a killer virus into the air? Who would do something like that?”

  It was a very good question. I had some questions of my own.

  “Someone like you, maybe?” I said.

  He put a hand on his chest. “Me? You’ve got to be kidding.”

  I leaned closer. “Haven’t you ever harbored a secret desire to kill off part of the population?”

  Ben took a small step back. “You know, Nicola, one of the things I like about you is that you don’t beat around the bush. I kind of like the wild questions you ask. But there’s such a thing as going too far. I’ll give it to you straight. The only secret desire I have isn’t even a secret. I’d like to become a doctor.”

  He had it all wrong. I wasn’t the one who’d gone too far. I hadn’t released a killer virus and killed most of the population.

  Ben Tanner had. It was written in our history.

  People could change over time. Maybe something would happen in the coming years to transform Ben from an intelligent, well-meaning young man to a hideous mass murderer. Maybe he’d be drawn by money or power or some other force. Maybe he’d do a complete turnaround from the person he was now.

  Maybe.

  Suddenly the students around us cheered. Up ahead, Mr. Rodriguez waved for us to join him. The driver was ahead of him, stepping onto the bus, his shoulders hunched and head down as if he’d been caught out.

  Ben put a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s put all evil thoughts of overthrowing the world behind us and get on the bus.” He raised his eyebrows. “No hard feelings?”

  I nodded. “Sure.”

  No feelings of any sort. Or at least there shouldn’t be.

  He placed his hand on the small of my back and ushered me ahead of him. On top of everything else, he was acting like a gentleman. It was more than I could handle. More than I should have to take.

  There was some mistake.

  There had to be.

  Chapter Nine

  What kind of science class was this? Mr. Rodriguez’s strategy for managing the students and lesson was baffling to say the least. He’d left us to it while we supposedly chose groups for our next project. However judging from the noise and disruption in the room, I doubted the students were working on the task at hand. They were enjoying themselves far too much for that.

  Unable to concentrate, I covered my ears. Moments later, I felt the warmth of a hand on mine as Ben Tanner crouched by my desk.

  “Hello there, Ben,” I said, then realized I sounded like a dork.

  “Do you want to partner up for the project?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  He grinned, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Excellent, because I want to do well in this assignment.”

  I already knew Ben worked hard to get good grades. We discussed the project and how we might approach it, deciding we’d get together to work on it tomorrow night.

  “Back to your desks everyone,” Mr. Rodriguez called out.

  No sooner had the words come out of the teacher’s mouth than the students obeyed, and Lauren took her seat beside me. The way he regained control of the class in an instant astounded me. It was as if he had the students’ respect but that couldn’t possibly be the case when he was so lax with them.

  Meanwhile I found it increasingly hard to concentrate and was probably the only person in the room not paying attention to the lesson.

  Lauren nudged me and motioned toward Ben. “He’s a hottie.”

  I glanced at her. “A whattie?”

  She looked down her nose at me. “I saw the way you looked at him, Nicola. Don’t pretend you don’t have a thing for him.”

  “A thing?”

  I did have a thing but not the sort of thing to which she was referring. Not the sort of thing she’d be able to understand. I wouldn’t even know where to start.

  “Hard to believe anyone would do the dirty on a guy like him, isn’t it?” she added.

  I was about to ask her what she meant when Mr. Rodriguez glared at us. We both stopped talking while he gave the next instruction. I should’ve been listening. Instead I was thinking about Ben.

  * * *

  Preparing dinner was a menial ta
sk. I didn’t do menial tasks, but I hadn’t been able to get out of this one. Recently Mother had started her new job and I had to help out at home. It was as simple as that. And as complex.

  Looking around the kitchen I took deep breaths, trying to talk myself into it. I could do this. I could cook spaghetti.

  I found my two favorite knives in the top drawer: a large chef’s knife and a paring blade which was similar to the blade I’d used to slit the throat of a wild boar after shooting and wounding it. Putting a bullet through a moving target had taken skill but it was the knife that had made the experience worthwhile. The slashing sound came back to me, the rush of blood, the satisfaction.

  The knife was always my first choice. With a knife, it was always personal.

  That was why I’d already bought the perfect five-inch blade from a store in town.

  Perfect for my future needs.

  Staring at the doorframe, I picked up the paring knife, took aim and threw the blade. It landed smack bang in the middle of the wooden frame. I grabbed the chef’s knife, did the same, and practiced for a while, then decided I should get a move on with dinner.

  As soon as I started, I could tell this wasn’t going well. I was seriously good with a knife but when it came to the world of vegetables, I was out of my league. Then there was the smell when I started cooking. Not good.

  Mother walked in, looking very smart in her work clothes while I probably looked very frazzled at the stove. Her eyes on the doorframe I’d been using for target practice, she brushed away some splinters. “I didn’t notice that before. We must have woodworm. I’ll have to get your dad to look at it.”

  I lowered my gaze. “Hmm, yes.”

  She sniffed the air. “That smells…interesting. I think you need to turn the heat down, darling. Can I give you a hand?”

  “I really don’t like having an audience,” I said rather more sharply than intended.