“Aren’t you going to wait here to greet them?” I call after him.
“Nope,” he answers simply. “They’ve been here before, they’ll be here again.”
He’s not quite his old self. His new self is quiet and grumpy, solitary. No more jokes, no more leaping out when you least expect him. He just slides through the days, barely existing. At least he’s leaving his room now, which is a huge improvement. He’s eating again, and he even helps out around the place, watering in the garden or cooking. And it warmed my heart when I noticed that he’s even started to layer his clothes like he used to, giving him his more familiar lumpy appearance. He won’t set foot anywhere near the lab, but we would never expect him to.
Trey lines the trays up in rows across the folding table in front of the door. “How many do we need, did he say?”
Kenzo counts them off. “I’m sure this is more than enough. There’s no way he’s bringing this many back.”
Ellis and Sydney come back a couple times a year, to bring in any survivors they find. Most of them have been infected by the virus, but every now and then, there’s a human. They’ve mostly been holed up in the mountains, seeking cooler temperatures and fewer hours of direct sunlight. It seems an impossible distance from here, especially considering they usually travel by foot, but last year, Ellis and Sydney finally managed to finish clearing off a section of track that was undamaged, and that covers about half the distance. When they’re able to manage fuel, they can cut days—if not weeks—of their trip. We’re still not sure if General Howell was bluffing about the existence of other bunkers across the continent or world—so far, they haven’t found any evidence of one, and we haven’t been able to reach anyone with the radio, but we’ll keep trying.
Sometimes Ellis brings back news of my mother, but I haven’t seen her since she left. She seems to be doing well enough, and the last I heard was that she was studying the returning plant life. Sydney said my mom has banded together a few other Rippers to form a new pack of sorts. I guess I don’t mind… as long as she’s not planning on bringing them all over for dinner.
A knock at the door makes me jump. “They’re here!”
Is it too obvious that I’m dying for a little excitement around here? Day in, day out, it’s grow food, eat food, work in the lab. Ugh. Boooooring. Who would’ve thought after the disaster of our last trip that I would ever want to see the outdoors again, but here I am, just itching for a glimpse of night sky.
Kenzo looks at his watch to ensure it’s past sunset, and I roll my eyes. He knows perfectly well that it is, but he always has to be extra sure. This time of year is safest, when we barely have two hours with full sun—though it wouldn’t make any difference to our friends, who have the best sunscreen government experiments can buy.
Trey racks a bolt into his gun, and I don’t miss the excited gleam in his eye. He’s probably hoping something goes wrong; he’s been pretty bored around here too. He goes hunting whenever possible, but it’s not the same as scavenging in a big city. Plus, it involves a very rough boat ride to the mainland. Half the time he’ll puke up anything he just ate. He’s declared himself our chief of security, but since our population has only grown by another half a dozen over the past three years, there aren’t exactly a lot of disputes to settle.
With a nod from Trey to show he’s got him covered, Kenzo pulls back the lock and opens the door. The suction pulls a blast of lukewarm air in with the door, and I breathe it in. My sense of smell has never gone entirely back to normal. I catch the familiar scent of my friends, but there’s also a whiff of rank decay. That wouldn’t usually be that big of a deal, but now especially, my stomach threatens to unload.
Lucky for me, Sydney has caught sight of me, and her reaction is distraction enough. Her eyes widen when she looks down at my rounded stomach, and she squeals, the sound vibrating in her throat like a purr. I start to move forward to hug them, but Kenzo stops me with a hand across my chest, and Ellis does the same from his end. Sydney and I share a look—overprotective alpha males.
But then I catch sight of two more sets of eyes over Ellis’s shoulder, both matte black.
Not human, then.
They don’t seem about to attack at the sight of us, and that would explain the scent of death that still lingers on their clothes. Ellis was kind enough to take them hunting before bringing them home. I appreciate it, in a morbid way. What we’re about to do would be even harder to handle if they were hungry.
“Welcome, I’m Dr. Kenzo Kimura. I’m glad you made the trip.” Kenzo keeps his movements small, non-threatening, but he angles his chin up and looks them in the eye. They need to know we’re not easy prey. “Shall we?”
With a sweep of his arm, Kenzo gestures for them to enter and nudges me behind him and out of the way.
We have rooms right by the door set aside for transitions. That’s what we’re calling it—transition. Kenzo didn’t like the idea of telling people they were being cured, since that might make them feel like there was something wrong with them. And there isn’t. Some of them joined the ranks of Rippers by choice, while others are like me, infected by accident. Either way, we all have something in common. We are survivors. And there is nothing wrong about that.
And now they are being given the choice.
Each of the Rippers is given a room with a bed… and a bucket. The bed has an obvious use, but the bucket is for the inevitable expulsion of their last meal. Then we’ll lock them in there until they come out the other side. It’s not a pretty system, but it works.
Kenzo follows them into the rooms, one at a time, grabbing his basket containing everything he needs to administer the injection. Ellis helps hold the patients down, since, you know, needle in the eye socket. Good times.
Sydney stands out in the hall with me, waiting for them to finish up. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks, tentatively placing a hand on my stomach.
“Are you kidding? And miss your reaction?” We both laugh.
“But…” She trails off, not sure how to ask the question, but I have an answer all prepared. It’s the same question I asked Kenzo.
“It’s safe,” I assure her with a nod. “We ran plenty of tests before trying.”
Sydney gives me a sly look. “And something tells me Kenzo has been monitoring your pregnancy?”
“Are you kidding? We start every day with breakfast and an ultrasound.” That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much.
“What else have we missed around here?” She’s teasing, but as the silence and my grin grow, a new look crosses her face.
The door clicks shut and Ellis comes over. “Hey, congratulations,” he says, finally wrapping his arms around me for a hug. Sydney’s eyes are still on me, but she reaches out and locks her hand tight around Ellis’s, obviously giving it a squeeze, because he looks down at their twined fingers before glancing back up at her face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Not wrong,” Kenzo says, joining us. He’s losing the battle with his own smile. “Can I show you to your room?” He takes one step back and opens the door to another transition room.
“Really?” Ellis doesn’t need to ask, but I can see he’s having a hard time believing it’s true. He knows what this means. We’ve been close to this breakthrough since the beginning—Kenzo swore it wouldn’t take long—and that was what finally convinced Ellis to allow Sydney to become infected with the variant. If there hadn’t been a quick end date to their infection, I don’t think he would’ve gone for it, no matter how much he wanted to be with her. He’s just the self-sacrificing type of guy like that.
I nod. “It’s time.”
Sydney tugs Ellis’s hand, leading him toward the room. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
I can’t stop the soft smile on my face as I walk back toward our room, a hand rubbing lazily over my stomach. This isn’t anything close to the future I’d envisioned as a child. I wanted to be an astronaut. Or maybe a veterinarian. Or a fairy godmother. Never was apo
calypse survivor on that list, but I’m not complaining.
I lie down on my bed with a groan. Everything aches these days. I roll onto my side carefully and catch sight of the picture on the side table. It’s my whole family—Kenzo brought it from the compound for me, and while it still hurts to see their smiling faces, I am so grateful that I have this image to remember them by.
When I allow myself to linger on the past, I remember James, the man in the root cellar who helped save my life. He’d said, “You can’t change the end game.” But you know what? We totally did.
“Hey, baby,” Kenzo says as he comes in, crawling across the bed to snuggle in behind me. He smooths a hand across my stomach.
“Are they all settled in?”
“Yep.” He brushes my hair to the side and kisses the back of my neck once, twice. “This time tomorrow, we can finally move on to the next part of our plan.”
I can feel my smile widening. If Sydney thought my pregnancy was big news… and their cure… just wait until she hears about the next breakthrough, the one that will allow my daughter to walk in the sun.
THE END
About the Author
T.K. Bradley lives in the far north, in the great white expanse of Canada, with a variety of pets, all with ridiculous names that only children can be blamed for.
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The Shade Chronicles | Book 2 | Predator Page 27