Zoe fell quiet, and there was a part of me that couldn’t even believe we were having this conversation, so maybe Zoe was on to something about how the human psyche seeks to protect via levels of denial.
But like I’d realized before, the luxury of denial was something none of us could afford.
“It’s already begun.” Unease coated my skin. “Look at how the Luxen are being blamed for people getting sick. Something that’s biologically impossible, but not a lot of people seem to question what they’re being fed by people like Senator Freeman.” I tucked my hair behind my ears. “We didn’t really get to talk about the whole flu thing that the Sons of Liberty guy told us about. What was his name? Steven? I didn’t get a chance to ask Eaton about it, but what if that’s true?”
Zoe sat back, eyes widening with surprise. “God, I can’t believe I forgot about that.”
“A lot has been happening,” I reminded her.
Raising her brows in agreement, she nodded. “Steven said that the Daedalus had weaponized the flu and have been releasing it in batches, right?”
I nodded.
Her gaze drifted to the rippling curtains. “They manipulated a strain of the flu to carry the mutation. People who get their yearly flu shot may still get pretty sick, but they won’t mutate. Those who didn’t get the shot will…”
“Mutate or die.” Like Ryan, one of our classmates, who had gotten the flu and died. Or Coop and Sarah. They’d mutated. But then there’d been the outbreaks in Boulder and Kansas City. People died there, too. Steven claimed those cases were test runs, and the mutated virus hadn’t been released widely.
Yet.
Even right now, I could hear my mom lecturing about the importance of the flu vaccine. Had she known what the Daedalus were going to do with the flu virus? Closing my eyes, I cursed myself. She had to know. She worked in infectious diseases, and God, she could’ve been a part of making that weaponized strain at some point. Was that why she’d been so pro–flu shot? Because she knew what was coming, and if so, was that further evidence of a change of heart?
It didn’t matter.
Because it didn’t undo what she’d done, and her change of heart didn’t change enough. She could’ve warned people. She could’ve done something.
“I don’t even want to believe it,” Zoe admitted. “See? That’s the human part of me screaming it sounds too impossible, but I know better.”
And I now also knew better.
“Damn. If they release that flu more widely and a whole crap ton of people fall ill or if some of them start acting like Coop did, raging out like rabies-infected zombies, people are going to panic, and the Daedalus can then swoop in, giving frightened people someone to blame. The Luxen.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “It will be bad.”
It would be catastrophic.
“How many people even get the flu shot?” she asked, and I knew she wasn’t expecting an answer.
“A little over forty percent, sometimes higher if there’s a bad seasonal flu.” When she blinked at me, a weak smile formed. “Um, Mom used to rant about vaccines a lot. I only know that because of her.”
Zoe studied me for a moment and then said, “Well, over fifty percent will either mutate or die. That’s a hell of an army, or that’s a whole lot of thinning the herd.”
And the herd had already been thinned when the Luxen invaded four years prior—220 million people had died then.
Fewer people who could think and who could fight would be easier to control.
Pulling my legs up to my chest, I folded my arms around my knees. “We have to stop them before they release that virus, because it will be too late by then.”
Zoe’s pupils gleamed bright white for a handful of seconds before returning to black. She didn’t respond, and I figured she was too caught up in imagining what it would be like if that virus were released.
Anger resurfaced once more, but this time it didn’t slither; it roared through me like a raging river. “Even if the Daedalus didn’t have this flu virus, something needs to be done to them.”
“Preaching to the choir, babe.”
“I know I am. I know you and Luc and probably a hell of a lot of people here want nothing more than to see them gone, and I may not remember my time with them. I know that is probably a blessing.”
Zoe’s gaze flickered away. “It is.”
I swallowed hard. “But I keep thinking about that Trojan Eaton saw—the one who slammed his head into the wall until he died. All Dasher had done was tell him to do so, and he did it without hesitation.”
“I don’t even know what to say about that,” she said, jaw working. “They could never get that kind of control over us or the hybrids—definitely not the Luxen. Not that they didn’t try. I think the only reason why the Daedalus haven’t taken over was because they couldn’t replicate the hive mind the Luxen and Arum can have.”
“But they have now. Eaton said that the Trojans view Dasher as if the man is their god. Luc thinks that the whole coded thing doesn’t matter, that I won’t end up under Dasher’s control, but we really don’t know that,” I admitted, then took a deep, steady breath. “It doesn’t matter if I can control myself or not. Those other Trojans? They were probably like me or like you and Luc. They might not have had a choice before this was done to them, but they sure as hell don’t have a choice now. We need to stop the Daedalus before they have the ability to command hundreds of thousands of newly mutated people who don’t live up to their expectations into killing themselves. I can’t let that happen.”
Determination reverberated through me. I had to do something, because those Trojans and the ones yet to be mutated were like a part of me. Sounded crazy, but that was how I felt. I couldn’t explain the connection with the other Trojans, faces and names I couldn’t remember and might not have even known. Maybe it was there, buried deep within me, because I’d been trained with them. Perhaps it was far simpler than that and had everything to do with the lurking, insidious fear that I could become the Trojan commanded to do something too horrible to conjure to others or to myself. I had no idea, but the Daedalus needed to be stopped. They needed to be wiped from the face of this planet and from history, for real this time.
7
Our appetites pretty much shriveled up and died at that point. Talking about power-hungry organizations that had the potential to wipe out or mutate over half the United States population would do that.
Muscles twitching in my thighs, I unfolded my body from the near-fetal position. Having my legs stretched out helped. A little. Tiny twitches danced along the back of my thighs and then my calves, causing my legs to jerk.
“You okay?” Zoe asked.
“Yeah. I’m just…” I wasn’t just feeling twitchy. There was more, a restlessness that pushed to the edge of frustration, the kind that made you want to cry or stomp for no apparent reason. I was antsy.
Antsy to the point it itched at my skin. I couldn’t sit in here and stare at angel paintings. Probably had a lot to do with what we’d been talking about. “I need to get moving around. I can’t sit here.”
“Same,” Zoe shared. “Not when we have all this heavy, dark crap in our heads. I can show you around, if you want.”
Interest more than just piqued, I pushed off the couch. “Are you sure I’m allowed to roam like a free-range Trojan?”
“Free-range Trojan?” Zoe snorted. “If Grayson is allowed to actually come into contact with others here, I don’t see why you wouldn’t be able to.”
Hearing his name made me think of last night. God only knows what he must be thinking, but I wondered how he was … well, handling everything. As much as he appeared to hate humans, he had cared for Kent, and even I could see he was taking Kent’s death hard.
Sorrow poured into my chest as I gathered up the lids, placing them onto the containers of food. In comparison to Zoe and everyone, I’d barely known Kent, and Clyde and Chas even less so, but their deaths still hurt.
Especially Kent’s
.
“How is Grayson doing?” I asked, brushing my hands off on a napkin when I was finished storing the food away.
“He’s doing okay.” Zoe straightened the hem of her shirt as she walked around the coffee table. “He’s not really wanting to talk about Kent or Clyde, but I know he feels responsible.”
“It’s not his fault.” What happened to Kent happened before anyone knew what was going on. It had been so fast—a sniper and a bullet had found him, ending his life before any of us realized the threat had been there.
“I think he knows that, but sometimes it’s easier to blame yourself than to accept that nothing could’ve been done,” she said, sounding wiser than any eighteen-year-old I knew. “Grayson is…”
“If you say complicated, I’m going to hit you.”
Zoe laughed as the front door opened before she reached it. Honest to God, a huge part of wanting to get control of the Source was so that I could be incredibly lazy like every being I knew with alien DNA was. “I was actually going to say complicated.”
I sighed.
“He’s just … well, he’s just very layered,” she said after a moment. “He’s definitely prickly.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“But he’ll grow on you.”
“Like an STD,” I muttered under my breath.
“Before you know it, you two will be the best of friends,” she said. That was about as likely as me befriending a monkey carrying the Ebola virus like that little girl in that old movie. “Don’t lock the door. There’s no need here, and I don’t know if anyone has the key.”
As I followed her outside, my imagination ran wild with what could happen with an unlocked door. At least three serial killers who had a thing for blondes with missing memories could sneak in while we were gone and then lie in wait for my return.
Then again, if that happened, I could probably take them all out.
Feeling a little badass, a small grin tugged my lips up until I realized that I’d also probably take out anyone else who’d unfortunately be in the near vicinity.
Boy, that took the wind right out of my sails and also made me think of what I had asked of Luc. Wondering what Zoe would think, I announced, “I want to work at getting my abilities under control. I mean, not right this very second,” I added when she looked sharply at me. “But, like, tomorrow.”
“Oh,” she said, and that was all she said while we walked past Kat and Daemon’s place. There were no weird feelings of expecting someone to step out, but I wondered how Luc’s conversation was going with him.
“Is that all you have to say?” I asked. “Oh?”
“I was still thinking about it.”
“Didn’t realize there was a lot to think about.”
“There is,” she replied as we continued down the still-empty street.
“Who lives on this street?” I asked.
“Daemon and Kat. Dee and Archer are in the house on the other side of the one you’re in.” She pointed to a brick home painted the color of ivory. “That’s where Dawson and Beth are. There are a few more that are here, but you haven’t met them.”
God. If Luc hadn’t done what he did last night, I could’ve seriously hurt so many people.
I had to push that thought aside, because if I didn’t, it would send me into a panic spiral, and that was the last thing any of us needed.
Refocusing on the apparently barren street, I wondered if it was truly possible that everyone was out and about. I didn’t feel like we were being watched this time. Then again, now that I didn’t feel that way, I couldn’t be so sure what I’d felt the day before hadn’t been paranoia.
Before we turned the corner, I glanced out over the city, thinking of the flashing light I’d seen. I considered telling Zoe, but I imagined she’d have the same reaction Luc and Daemon had.
So I asked, “Are you done thinking about what I said?”
Zoe grinned. “I think it’s a good idea.”
“You do?”
She laughed then. Clearly, I hadn’t been able to hide my surprise. “You didn’t think I’d say that, did you? I’m just surprised that Luc agreed to it.”
“Because he’s going to have to coldcock my brain, basically?” I joked, even though I was so not looking forward to what that was going to feel like.
Or what it was going to do to Luc.
“Yeah, that. Which is why I’m not surprised to hear he won’t let anyone else work with you.”
The wind picked up, stirring the limbs. A few of the golden leaves shuddered free. “You sounded like there may be another reason.”
She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “Luc only ever tried to train the Origins he freed, the ones Micah belonged to, and you know how that ended.”
Nearly tripping over the curb of the street we crossed, I sucked in a sharp breath. I did know exactly how that ended.
“He didn’t tell me that, either.” There seemed to be a lot Luc hadn’t told me. But right now, that wasn’t the biggest issue at hand.
A cloud slipped over the sun as we walked past the street that led to Eaton’s and continued straight. I hated the idea of Luc thinking about those Origins for even a few seconds. “I need to get control of this, Zoe.”
“Agreed.” Zoe’s lips pursed. “But I just thought of a third reason or a potential problem.”
“Goodie.”
“What if continuously pushing you to tap into the Source kicks in that hive-mind mentality that Eaton talked about?”
Ice encased my insides. “I’ve considered that. I know Luc has to have thought about it, too, but it’s a risk we have to take. The only other option is to do nothing, and I can’t do that.”
“Agreed.”
“We need something in case I do turn into—”
“A robot programmed to return to the Daedalus?”
Shooting her a look, I nodded. “Maybe we can get ahold of an elephant tranquilizer?”
A thoughtful look crossed her pretty face.
My eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t being serious.”
“But a tranq may be an option.”
All I could do was stare at her. “How about you think of something positive?”
Her laugh was soft, and it quickly faded in the wind swirling down the wide sidewalk. “When I think of one, I’ll let you know.”
“But I’d better not hold my breath?”
“You said it, not me.”
Nice.
Up ahead, the ranchers and overgrown lawns gave way to what might have been a city park at some point. Among the tall reeds, I could just make out the shapes of benches and what might have been picnic tables. Thick vines obscured the sign at the entrance we walked past, and it was about then when I smelled … roasted meat, and then the breeze carried the sweet and spicy scent of cinnamon.
Despite all that I had just eaten, my stomach lumbered awake. “Something smells amazing.”
“Fire-roasted chicken, and I’m praying to God it’s those cinnamon-crusted pecans Larry and his wife make. Those things are like candy crack.”
Larry and his wife?
My steps slowed as I heard people for the first time since we’d arrived. The low hum of conversation, of laughter, was the first proof that everyone wasn’t lying and this wasn’t a ghost town.
Curious, I got my feet moving at a faster pace. At the end of the street, we came to what had to have been a busy intersection before the war. Across the grassy median, behind a row of palms, was a shopping center.
Stores stacked on top of one another, most of the signs having long since fallen away or eroded to the point where only letters instead of words were legible. There’d been a nail salon once, kitty-corner to a liquor store. All that remained of the urgent care was the blue cross above shuttered double doors. Larger stores still clearly branded. The red letters of a now very useless electronics store were visible next to one of the pet store chains, and in their parking lots were dozens of stalls and people milling
about, all under rolling canopies colored red, blue, and yellow.
“This is the market,” I stated, donning my Captain Obvious hat. Now I knew where all those cars had been the afternoon before.
“Yep.” Zoe was grinning at my wide-eyed face. I couldn’t help it. There were so many people.
Hundreds of them.
And as I stood there, too far away to see faces or eye colors, instinct was flaring alive in me, telling me what I couldn’t see but I could sense. Humans, lots of humans, and among them but not many were brighter … life forces. Luxen.
Life forces?
What in the hell kind of thought was that?
“This is how Zone 3 stays alive,” Zoe was saying, yanking me from my thoughts. “Well, one of the ways. Food is traded here, along with supplies and other stuff. Actually, lots of random stuff. Last time I was here, someone was trading stuffed animals—you know, not the real stuffed animals, but the kind kids play with.”
Blinking, I refocused on Zoe. “How? With money?”
“There’s no need for money.” She tugged on my arm, pulling me into the empty street. “Come on.”
Confused by the prospect of there being no need for money, I asked, “Then how do people buy the things here?”
“Labor can be traded for food. Like if someone needs repairs on the house or help working one of the crops. Some people trade goods, but there is no currency,” Zoe explained as we crossed the street, entering the market where the cement had cracked and little white-and-purple flowers had begun to grow. She kept her arm looped with mine. “And they make sure no one goes hungry, even if they are too old to barter with labor or have nothing of value to trade. That’s what today is. On Wednesdays, the food is free to those approved to enter, and they can take as much as they need.”
“And there’s enough food for that?”
Zoe nodded. “It’s kind of amazing how much work can be done and the amount of food that can be grown when you’re not sitting inside watching TV or messing around on social media.”
“Or when your next meal actually depends on you getting out there and growing something,” I added.
The Brightest Night Page 9