The Virulent Chronicles Box Set

by Shelbi Wescott

  “You can feel it, then,” he replied. “You’re scared too.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She made a move to leave, but he put his hand out and grabbed her knee.

  “Ainsley—”

  “No,” she whisper-yelled. “Stop, please.” Joey turned and looked at them, but then quickly turned back to the movie. She rolled her eyes.

  “I could fall in—”

  “You’re feverish.”

  “And you’re not listening.”

  Darla shot them a glare. “Hush up, kids.”

  Ethan rested his head against her shoulder; but Ainsley seemed tense and rigid. Then he reached up and tried to grab her hand, but she pulled back. She leaned down and put her lips next to his ear. “Please, Ethan. I’m sorry. I’ve already loved too many people who aren’t around anymore. Don’t make this harder on—”

  “You?” he whispered. Then he brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed it gently. She made a soft sound of protest, but didn’t pull her hand away. “It’s okay. I understand. Just hold my hand…be my fake girlfriend. Just for tonight and then I won’t ever say anything about it ever again.”

  “Perfect,” Ainsley whispered and she gave his hand a squeeze.

  They settled in together in the darkened yard, the story of love and loss and good and evil playing out before them, blanketing their features with whites and blues. Teddy sat wide-eyed and Darla held him close; everyone cheered and booed and celebrated together—bonding over something that they would have taken for granted a month ago.

  Ethan closed his eyes and felt the fever envelope his body, numb his brain, send him spinning, but he didn’t let go of Ainsley’s hand.

  For a brief moment, the Oregon survivors pretended everything was normal. They could not see or understand the dangers and tragedy lurking just around the bend.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Maxine was a shriveled mess. Her nose was red from crying, her eyes bloodshot. She looked from Lucy to Scott with her mouth open in shock, a crumpled tissue in her hand. It was morning and Lucy hadn’t slept—from the looks of everyone else in the room, no one in their small underground apartment had much sleep. Upon waking, her parents had called an obligatory family meeting. Galen collapsed with a grumpy yawn on the floor; the twins sat beside him, and Harper had tried to crawl into Lucy’s lap, but Maxine called her away.

  Lucy secretly wondered if Cass was on the other side of their bedroom walls with her ear pressed to the sheetrock, attempting to eke out all the details of her failure.

  The guard sold her out. Scared into submission after Blair’s original antics, he told Huck, who sent a note to her father.

  She hadn’t stood a chance.

  All her plans for saving Grant seemed to slip right out through her fingers. But while hysteria was building beneath the surface, Lucy stayed outwardly calm. She sat on the floor in the middle of the room and watched her mother cry her way through a lecture.

  “And the mangoes, Lucy. For a dog?”

  An attempt to lie about the mangoes unraveled when Galen inadvertently mentioned that the mechanic Kip was pedaling the fruit in the Center later that afternoon.

  “This is not you. This rebellion. This disrespect. Who are you and what have you done with my real daughter?”

  Lucy raised her eyebrow and didn’t say a word.

  “Oh, I know what that look means little lady, but don’t you dare turn this around on me.”

  “Do we have to be here for this?” Galen asked and he rolled his eyes.

  “We’re bored,” Malcolm echoed.

  “This is a family discussion,” Maxine snapped at them and the boys sulked.

  The knock on the door made them all jump.

  “No, no, no,” Maxine cried and she looked around wildly. “Scott?” she said his name with a tremor. “They wouldn’t take her away without letting us know. You told him we would handle it. Did you tell him we would handle it?”

  There was another knock.

  Scott closed his eyes and then pivoted. He opened the door a crack, took a note, said thank you, and shut it again. Unfolding the sealed paper, he looked up at the whole room and then his shoulders sank. He walked over to Lucy and handed her the paper and she took it, unfolded it, and looked at the message.

  “Is this for real?” Lucy asked.

  “It’s his seal,” Scott replied.

  Maxine rushed over and put her hand out for the note. Lucy handed it over and crossed her arms.

  “What does this mean?” her mother asked. “What could this possibly mean?”

  After clearing his throat, Scott pursed his lips and inhaled. He looked at his family, all of their eyes turned on him. “It means what it says,” he turned back to Lucy. “Go get dressed.”

  She obeyed and slunk away from the family room and into her shared room, slipping back on the sundress her mother set out for her the first time she went to the Sky Room. Using her fingers as a comb, she untangled her hair and then pulled it into a ponytail. By the time she walked back out, the rest of her family had scattered and only Maxine was waiting for her.

  “Huck never meets with people,” she said, more like a reminder. “Good manners and protect yourself…”

  “Mom. I’m fine,” Lucy replied.

  Her mother sniffed. “Everything your father sacrificed so we could survive—”

  “I get it, Mom,” she said. “You’re starting to sound like you’re only trying to convince yourself.” And Lucy walked right past her mother, out the door, and down the hall toward the elevator.

  Huck and the Sky Room awaited her for an early breakfast.

  When she stepped off the elevator, she noticed the difference right away. The buzz and hum of people congregating for a meal was notably absent. Instead she was greeted with silence. She took several tentative steps and her shoes clapped with loud urgency against the floor. The hair on her arms stood on end. There was nobody up here—the space felt vacant and hollow. Lucy contemplated her fate if she ignored Huck’s breakfast invitation and slunk back downstairs. Would she be allowed to refuse him? What would happen then?

  No. Lucy had wanted this meeting to happen. She had requested it and she would not become a coward now when there was so much to lose.

  With a deep breath, she forced herself to enter the room. And just like she predicted, the room had been cleared. All the tables were gone, sans one. The single table sat in the middle of the room, directly under the apex of the artificial ceiling. Fake sunlight tumbled downward and washed the room in an eerie glow.

  Huck waited.

  He waved as she entered and pushed his chair back to stand.

  Steady, steady, Lucy thought to herself. On her approach, a single server appeared from the side and pulled out her chair for her. She slipped into place and then the waiter pushed her chair back in. To keep busy, she ran her hands over her dress, smoothing the fabric along her thighs. When she looked up, Huck was smiling at her.

  “Lucy King. Thank you for being my guest of honor this morning at breakfast. I am delighted that you agreed to meet me,” he said and he waved for the server, who brought over two tall glasses of a sparkling drink mixture.

  Lucy took a sip, the sweetness was overpowering, and she set it back down, swallowing quietly. “I had asked if I could see you,” Lucy replied. “I wasn’t expecting it to actually happen.”

  Huck put down his own drink and looked straight at Lucy. “Many people request to see me. Some have questions. Some have solutions. Most have requests. Others just want to be close to the leadership. It makes them feel protected…or above the others…if they can feel like they have my attention.”

  She didn’t know how to respond, and so she looked around the empty room nervously. It was just the two of them, alone, and Lucy felt all of her rehearsed arguments and appeals just beyond her mental reach.

  “I fit in the request category,” she said after a long pause. She let her eyes fall to the table and she waited to be d
ismissed.

  “Of course,” was Huck’s response. “First things first. Are you more of a bread girl or a protein girl?”

  “Bread girl,” Lucy answered quickly.

  Huck rang a silver bell beside his water glass and their server appeared. He then raised a single finger in the air and then man nodded, spun, and left. Lucy watched the exchange with puzzled scorn and he noticed. With a smile, Huck leaned forward, and lowered his voice.

  “You’re thinking it’s too excessive. The service. I see it in your eyes. You must understand there are perks that come with being the leader. But I won’t lie…I’ve always been a man of means. Some of this…the Sky Room, my office…are luxuries for me.”

  She didn’t know anything about Huck’s office or his living quarters, but she imagined he wasn’t roughing it. Maybe his shower didn’t have a timer.

  “Hey,” Lucy replied, “It’s your world. We’re just living in it. Right?” She grimaced, aware of her tone, and when she saw Huck’s face—his apprehension, a flash of frustration—she backpedaled. “No, I mean…my mom always used to say we deserve little luxuries…” she trailed off and then sighed.

  “Don’t be nervous, my dear.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry either,” Huck laughed. “If I didn’t want to entertain your requests and if I didn’t think I’d enjoy your company, then you’d still be in your apartment with your parents…and from what I hear, your little field trip last night didn’t go as planned.”

  Lucy turned red. All her emotions related to last night bubbled to the surface. Huck treated the incident with such nonchalance, but Lucy knew that he had been the one to turn her in to her parents. She narrowed her eyes, hoping to shame him into confessing his role. But Huck didn’t seem concerned with keeping his role in her discovery a secret.

  “Ah, I see,” Huck hummed. “You blame me. Well, of course.”

  She didn’t reply.

  “No, no. I accept your blame. You are right. I told your father. But for your own good, Lucy. Out of worry for you alone.”

  Lucy started to protest, but Huck put up his hand to stop her.

  “You think that’s hyperbole,” Huck continued. “But your father has been experimenting with Grant. Testing viruses on him. Infecting him…” He paused and waited for her to fully understand. She blinked twice and furrowed her brow. “He could have been highly contagious to you. Depending on what stage of the viral infection he was in.”

  His words sunk in and Lucy thought of her attempted kiss.

  Maybe she hadn’t been rejected after all. Maybe Grant had known that kissing her would have put her at risk. Her body slumped and Lucy felt even more ashamed for her behavior: assuming out of humiliation that her feelings for Grant would never be reciprocated.

  “Why won’t you let me save him?” she asked. Now, more than ever, she needed to see Grant again. Beyond that was the need, the compulsion, to not let his life end at the hand of her father.

  “Where does it stop?” Huck asked. “Where do you draw the line?”

  “I don’t understand,” Lucy said.

  The server appeared carrying a tray. He walked the length of the Sky Room to their table and delivered two plates full of French toast, dusted with powdered sugar and cooked apples.

  “Bread,” Huck announced with a smile, pleased with himself. “Bon appetit.” He raised his glass and Lucy took hers and engaged in an awkward toast. She set the glass down without drinking. “You were asking what I meant?” he clarified, taking his fork and cutting off a small bite of the toast. “I’m not a man without empathy. Without feeling. I care deeply for people, for the earth. But I believe we allowed ourselves to get horribly lost…and that pained me. Perhaps you think I’m cruel and evil…behaving with reckless disregard for this boy’s life, but I promise you that is not the case. I value people very much. Grant included.”

  “Stop, please,” Lucy said with her mouth full of breakfast. She set her fork down and finished chewing. “That’s a lie. That’s either a lie you’re telling me, or just a lie you’re telling yourself. But you cannot take lives and value lives. You can’t.”

  “You’re wrong,” Huck noted and he kept eating. Shoveling the egg soaked bread into his mouth with grotesque efficiency. “It was the only way. If there had been any other way,” he lowered his voice, “then we wouldn’t be here. And we wouldn’t be heading to the islands…”

  “The islands,” Lucy repeated. People had talked vaguely of their future, about a move, but no one had fully explained to her what would happen when their time in the underground system was over.

  “We are building them. And they are wonderful. Eden, my darling. Heaven on earth. When our time here comes to an end, the chosen ones will be rewarded with a life beyond anything they could imagine. But paradise, utopia, doesn’t just happen. It is conceived from the most amazing of dreams and plotted with utmost care. I will leave nothing to chance…”

  Lucy couldn’t help but shake her head. “I’ve read enough books to know that your utopia is an illusion,” she said. She paused and looked at Huck’s reaction; he motioned for her to continue. “This place is not utopia.” She waved her hand to the ceiling of the Sky Room. “People are afraid that if they defy you, they will die…”

  “I’ll stop you there. Just for a second. Did your parents ever teach you about traffic?”

  Lucy hesitated. “Like…cars?”

  “Yes,” Huck said and took a bite. “Cars. Look both ways before you cross the street…because, as crass as it may sound to a child…if you don’t follow the rules, and hold your parent’s hand, watch for cars…you will die.”

  “That’s not the same thing.”

  “Don’t put your finger in the electrical socket. Don’t jump into a pool if you don’t know how to swim. Rules. They are for protection.”

  Lucy shook her head. “Yeah, but if I ran out in front of a car, my parents wouldn’t punish me by killing me anyway.”

  “The tanks are a scare tactic,” Huck added flippantly. “Designed as a precaution against extreme rebellion. Because our world will not accommodate…”

  “Democracy?”

  “Democracy is a lie,” Huck blurted, his agitation seeping through. He cleared his throat. “Your entire life until now has been a lie. You and the billions of people who lived on this earth have never been free. But in addition to living in chains, you bought the idea that you had freedoms. Lucy, I will never proclaim that what we are creating is perfect. But it is better. Better than the world we came from, better than any place the world was going. I have faith that by stopping the cycle…by choosing our future and choosing who we share that future with…that we will have our utopia. You see, my dear Lucy, I am creating the world I wish to raise my grandchildren in…a world that is not overrun with greed, evil, lies, and conspiracy…”

  “By killing people. Innocent people?” Lucy felt her hand shaking. She put it in her lap to steady it.

  “No one is innocent. That is another lie,” Huck said and he shook his head. “Purging. With the intent to rebuild, to fix what is broken. It is a story we have accepted before. These Systems and the islands are my ark…”

  Lucy’s shoulders slumped. “So, your world will not work unless only your chosen people survive?”

  “This is all about Grant, is it? You can buy into this world…if you can have the boy?”

  She hoped it would be easy enough to say that was the case and be done with breakfast, but her wishes were not even that simple.

  “And my brother. And the people we left in Oregon. Good people. People who deserve a future too.” It wasn’t until after she had finished her sentence, and she saw Huck’s cheeks flush, and his eyes flash upward, that she knew she had made a mistake.

  It was too late to take back the confession and she searched her brain, trying to figure out if she had told anyone else about Darla and Teddy. Or had she been too preoccupied with her separation from Grant or taking in her new hom
e?

  “So, your brother is not alone. There are other survivors,” Huck said in a steady voice. “Like Grant? Unaffected by the virus?”

  She stayed silent as long as she could. She did not know which was the worse crime. Eventually, she shook her head. “No,” she finally said, but she refused to say anything more.

  “I see. This is news. So…you are trying to say that there are vaccinated survivors left in Oregon? And I should warn you…withholding information will harm your brother,” Huck said to her as a blatant threat. He leaned across the table and extended his hand. “I am surprised, you see, not angry. I deserve to know what awaits my team back in Oregon. We must go back prepared.”

  That piqued her interest and Lucy looked up. “You’re going back for him? Really? My mother said—”

  “It was always my intention to go back for Ethan. I owe your father that.”

  “He’s been injured. He needs help soon. You have to go soon,” Lucy pleaded. She had renewed hope and energy, but she was overcome with urgency.

  “Who else is there with him? How should we best prepare for a rescue mission?” Huck asked this while looking down at his plate. He moved a piece of toast around in the sugar and then popped it into his mouth. His eyes were raised with concern and interest. Lucy didn’t know how to respond or if to trust him. She hesitated.

  “It’s okay,” Huck said with a wave of his fork. “Don’t say anything you feel uncomfortable sharing.”

  “Thank you,” replied Lucy. She stared at her untouched breakfast. Picking up her fork, she moved some of the pieces around, isolating the apples on one side and the bread on the other.

  “Almost everyone was accounted for,” Huck mumbled to himself. “That’s okay. That’s okay.” He ran his fingers over his lips and mimed throwing away a key. “I’ll pressure you no more.”

  Huck reached down and rang the little silver bell. The man appeared and walked the distance to the table, standing at attention by Huck’s side.