Colony East (27 page)

Abby paused, unsure of what to do. Finally, seeing no harm, she brought her hand to her brow in her first salute, ever.

CHAPTER TWO
Mystic

Beads of sweat dribbled down Jordan’s face and chest as he positioned the foam pads of the crutches under his arms. Wenlan had told him he needed to walk for two hours a day to promote the healing of his wound. “Doctor’s orders!” The memory of her alluring eyes and finger wagging in his face was fresh in his mind.

He planted the rubber tips on the floor ahead of him and swung forward. When he touched down on the foot of his good leg, he jarred his other leg, sending flames of pain out from his thigh.

He glanced at the clock. In one hour, fifty-nine minutes, and forty-five seconds, he could return to his bed where the pain was tolerable if he remained perfectly still.

Grimacing, Jordan hobbled from his room to the hall, and then down the hall and into the waiting room to check on the other patients. There was a boy holding a bloody rag against his head, and a girl, who on the removal of her boot revealed a swollen ankle. Either one, or both of them, he realized could be part of the pirate crew that turned Lucky Me into an inferno and killed his friends. The third patient in the room, a chubby boy with flushed cheeks, looked like he had the Pig.

None of the patients paid any attention to him, and none were in any condition to hold the door open for him. Jordan fought the urge to scream out in agony as he wedged the door and wiggled his way through.

He rested on the front porch as the breeze cooled his face, which was wet with perspiration from exertion and anxiety. A pick-up truck sat idling in front of the clinic, the driver listening to
Sympathy for the Devil
by the Rolling Stones.

Jordan pressed onward and learned how difficult it was to navigate down three steps with crutches. He took a quick breather on the front walk, and then headed for the street.

The song ended, and Jordan nearly toppled over when he heard a familiar voice. “Dudes and dudettes, do you dig the Stones? Let’s shout it out. Do you positively, absolutely, go freaking nuts over the Rolling Stones? I sure hope so.” It was DJ Silver. “We’re going to keep it rolling. Ashley, this is for you, 'Paint it Black'.”

Homesickness flooded through Jordan as he plodded onward.

That evening, as he was resting in bed, he lied to Wenlan, telling her he had walked for two hours when he had only walked half that, secretly resting just a block away from the clinic, out of her sight. He didn’t feel the least bit guilty.

“I’m really proud of you,” she said. “You are my favorite patient. Keep it up, and you’ll be walking in no time.”

Suddenly, feeling guilty, he changed the topic. ”You’ll never believe what I heard. The Port. We used to listen to The Port every night on Castine Island. We could never get the station during the day because the signal was too weak.”

Wenlan stepped to the window. “Come here.”

The distance to the window from the bed was about ten feet, but with his leg feeling relatively at peace, he wanted to stay put. “Describe what you want me to see.”

“Don’t be a baby.”

“I’ll look tomorrow.”

“You can see the antenna of The Port.”

Jordan hopped on his good leg like a frog. The antenna rose like a needle spire. “That’s The Port?” he exclaimed, disregarding the tidal waves of pain pounding him into oblivion.

She nodded. “The home of DJ Silver. The most egotistical boy I’ve ever met.”

Jordan stared out the window, knowing how he could tell Abby he was alive and well: DJ Silver would tell her for him.

He gave Wenlan a hug, which surprised her. She wrapped her arms around him and held him for a few long seconds, which surprised him even more.

CHAPTER THREE
Colony East

Unpacking the clothing and toiletries she had received before leaving the hospital, Abby paused and pinched herself to prove she wasn’t dreaming. Lieutenant Dawson had assigned her a room on the third floor in the Biltmore. She wasn’t dreaming, but it didn’t seem real, either.

She placed three pairs of gray overalls in the dresser drawer, thinking of herself as “lucky person 1102”, the number stitched on her sleeve.

In the bathroom, she wet her toothbrush and squeezed out a dab of green gel onto the bristles. She had brushed her teeth twice already this morning, and soaring in a cloud of peppermint, she let the taste linger on her tongue and gums until the coolness subsided. The toothpaste tasted good enough to eat.

Abby tapped the bathroom light switch on and off several times. She imagined her thrill at being able to produce instant illumination was equal to that of Thomas Edison, the inventor of the light bulb.

In the main room, she sat back on the luxurious king-size bed and bounced a few times before reaching for the radio. She pulled her hand back, though, still feeling like a visitor in a stranger’s house.

She opened the mini-fridge and rubbed her finger on the surface of an ice cube. She wondered if she would ever tire of experiencing the small conveniences of the life that she had once taken for granted.

She admired her wristwatch with the luminous hands and dial. “Everything runs on time at Colony East,” Ensign Royce had told her. She wished that time would stop at Colony East, and in Atlanta, too, placing her and Toucan in a state of suspended animation, and that the germs ravaging her sister’s body would simply freeze in their tracks.

Abby backed out of her fantasy and walked to the window. Peering out, she saw an alleyway three stories below. The building next door blocked much of the view, but she could see a wedge of Lexington Avenue that ran in front of the hotel. Some cars and trucks drove by, while a woman in a white coat pedaled a bicycle.

“Cadet Leigh.”

Abby turned and teared up. Toby and another boy stood next to Lieutenant Dawson. It was her first time seeing Toby since she’d left him with Touk at 19 Livingston Place. Both Toby and the other boy wore the same grey overalls she did.

“I’d like to introduce Cadet Billings,” the lieutenant said. “His living quarters are next to your brother’s on the fourth floor. Mr. Billings volunteered to give you and Toby a tour of Colony East. For future reference, please address me as Lieutenant, Lieutenant Dawson, or sir. I’ll refer to you as Miss Leigh and Mister Leigh, or simply, cadet.”

Toby rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Abby replied, shooting her ‘brother’ a hard stare-a look that told him not to blow it.

“Billings will brief you on the other rules and regulations,” the lieutenant said. “We run a tight ship at Biltmore Company. Billings, be sure to show them Central Park Farm.”

Cadet Billings beamed. “Aye-aye,sir.”

“And pay attention to them, too,” the lieutenant added. “We can all learn from the Leighs. They had their own community on Castine Island.”

Toby’s head snapped her way. All Abby could do was shrug back. Apparently, what she’d told the lieutenant impressed him.

Lieutenant Dawson excused himself from the trio.

Cadet Billings closed the door and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Call me Jonzy. Rule number one, don’t trust anyone.”

Abby rocked back on her heels. She figured the expression of shock on Toby’s face likely mirrored hers.

“Can I trust you two?” Jonzy asked with a shrug, not looking for an answer. “I have to take that chance. Time is running out, and I need your help.”

Abby’s chest tightened and it was hard to breathe. “Please, just show us around,” she implored. After it took a miracle for them to make it here, why jeopardize their delicate situation?

Toby held up his hand. “Abby, let’s hear him out.”

Jonzy walked to the window and shut the drapes. “Two months ago, as a test, I told several friends that I was building a radio. We’re not supposed to listen to any unauthorized communications, like The Port. Do you know about the teen station?”

Toby brightened. “We drove by it, and we listened to it every night back home.”

His enthusiasm was troubling. For all Abby knew, this was an elaborate set up to test their loyalty, and Toby was falling for the trap. The smartest thing was to leave. Leave now.

“I told my friends where I hid the parts,” Jonzy continued. “The next day the lieutenant searched my room and knew right where to go. Don’t trust anyone, okay?”

Abby took a step toward the door, not wanting to hear any more. “Toby, let’s go!”

He wasn’t ready to go anywhere. “Why do you need our help?” he asked Jonzy.

“Every night, CDC headquarters in Atlanta communicates with the scientists at Colony East and Colony West.”

Toby frowned. “Colony West?”

“It’s in Los Angeles. Atlanta Colony is the biggest. Colony East is next, then Colony West. I listen to their conversations on the radio.”

“How?” Abby challenged, her curiosity getting the better of her. “You said Lieutenant Dawson took your radio parts.”

Jonzy grinned. “Those were for a cheap radio. I have a police radio which scans a wide range of frequencies.”

Abby’s level of anxiety spiked when Toby took a seat on the bed. “Where did you get it?” he asked.

Jonzy sat in a chair. “A police cruiser in the Yellow Zone. It’s part of the colony where you need an adult escort. I snuck out and went there at night.”

With her hand hovering near the doorknob, Abby wondered if she should just walk out and hope Toby followed.

“What would have happened to you if you had gotten caught?” Toby asked.

“Doctor Perkins would have kicked me out. He’s the chief scientist.”

Abby’s eyes met Toby’s. Monty had told them that Doctor Perkins had kicked him out of the colony for just delivering a choice phrase at the council meeting. “Do you want to get us kicked out?”

Toby crinkled his eyes, thinking, and then he ignored her question. “When do you listen?” he asked Jonzy.

“I keep the police radio in the restaurant on the fortieth floor. The reception is better up there. It’s lights out at eight o’clock. I go up after everyone is sleeping.”

Abby shook her head, thinking Jonzy was the type of kid who made up fantastic stories to sound important. Even though he was probably harmless, she still wanted nothing to do with him.

“If a topic is really important,” Jonzy said, “Doctor Perkins participates in the discussion. He’s been on the radio a lot lately.”

Good, she told herself. The taller his tales, the sooner Toby would wake up and they could start their tour.

Jonzy put his finger to his lips, opened the door, stuck his head out, and then closed it again. “You never know who might be listening. The scientists know a new epidemic is coming”

Speaking in a low voice, he told them how the bacteria that caused the first epidemic mutated, mostly close to the equator, and how the scientists thought a hurricane would spread the deadly strain across the country. Despite her burning desire to run from this boy as fast as she could, Abby moved closer to hear him. His story troubled her for two reasons. It seemed too crazy to make up, and many parts rang true from her observations of Toucan’s illness.

Toby started pacing. “Abby, did the scientists ever say anything like that on the CDC station? Have they given any warnings?”

“Toucan caught the Pig,” she said, “but Castine Island is two thousand miles from the equator.”

“Who’s Toucan?” Jonzy asked.

“Her sister,” Toby said, and then quickly corrected himself. “Our sister.”

Jonzy lit up. “Lizette.”

Abby tensed, but quickly relaxed, thinking Lieutenant Dawson must have mentioned her to Jonzy.

“She’s in drug trial C,” he added.

Abby swallowed hard. “What does that mean?”

Jonzy shrugged. “Another kid they sent to Atlanta, Elsie, is in drug trial B.”

“Huh,” Toby blurted. “They sent Touk to Atlanta?”

Abby nodded. “Doctor Droznin told me.”

“Who’s that?”

“She asked me questions about our family.”

Toby winked at her. “Doctor Levine completed my profile, so it’s all good.” Then he turned back to Jonzy. “What else have you heard?”

“They want to develop an antibiotic that works and ship it here before the first hurricane hits, but they haven’t said anything about passing out pills outside the colony.”

“I’m sure they’re going to help everyone,” Abby said confidently and opened the door. “I’m not going to sneak around and get in trouble. Toby, are you coming?”

“You and Toby are part of a control group.” Jonzy said.

Abby stepped into the hall and headed for the fire exit door. She was curious to know what a control group was, but not curious enough to stop. Not hearing footsteps behind her, she nervously turned. The hall was empty. Equally dumbfounded and mad, she sighed in frustration and set out in search of Central Park Farm.

CHAPTER FOUR
Mystic

With The Port’s radio antenna less than five hundred yards away, Jordan stumbled to the side of the road and collapsed in the shade, where he leaned against a stone wall. Painful rashes had blossomed in his armpits from the uphill and downhill slogs on the crutches. Exhausted, he let his arms flop to his sides, sighing in relief as air circulated up into his short sleeves.

Wenlan’s “one mile” had turned out to be more like four miles. He’d left the clinic at dawn and now the sun was overhead. Still, he was pleased with his progress, considering that two weeks earlier the pirates had left him for dead.

Jordan watched with envy as an ant crawled up his wrist with ease. It swiftly scaled the vertical cliff of his skin, navigating through a forest of hair follicles, and reached a peak fifty times its height.

He fixed his gaze on the tower. The final leg of any journey, it seemed, was always the hardest. The road’s grade to the station, while not that steep, was all uphill, making him wince at the thought of the pain that was to come.

One thought spurred him to stop envying the ant and sit up. Abby would get the surprise of her life when she heard DJ Silver announce over the radio that her brother was doing well and would be home soon. If she didn’t hear it personally, someone on the island would.