Emerge (15 page)

The forklift driver shifted back and forth on his feet. “You guys need to get back in the truck and go back the way you came.”

“What?” Garrett asked. “No. We need help. We’re sick, man. You need to get the president. Or better yet, we need to get inside to the hospital.”

“I can’t let you do that.” The forklift driver stepped in Garrett’s path. Garrett’s friend in the fleece jacket still sat behind the wheel of the vehicle. His head dangled forward.

“You don’t get to decide.” Garrett made a move forward, but the forklift driver was fast. He took off in a full sprint. Garret limped after him, but was way too slow.

The forklift driver ran inside the garage door, staring out at Garrett and Fleece Jacket.

“No. Don’t—” West started.

His words were cut off when the forklift driver hit a large red button with the palm of his hand. A loud honking sound erupted, and large spotlights drenched the entire backside of New Caelum in light. West and I moved farther back into the shadows of the dumpster.

I began mumbling to myself, “Run, Dax. Run, Zara.” This wasn’t good. They had to get out of there.

As if they heard me, Dax and Zara darted from behind a section of the building and began a full-on sprint toward the back gate. I began chanting “Go, go, go” inside my head.

Then the second rolling door began to open. When it was halfway up, a dozen or so men in hazmat suits appeared, armed with rifles. Garrett’s hands shot up. Fleece Jacket’s head fell against the steering wheel, apparently passed out.

Without warning, one of the men in hazmat suits shot Garrett three times.

I jerked at the sound of each shot, grabbing West’s arm for support.

Garrett fell forward onto his knees, then face-planted into the dirt.
 

The shooter calmly walked over to the truck, still idling behind the forklift, raised the rifle, and shot Fleece Jacket in the head.
 

I closed my eyes, but then heard the muffled sounds of people yelling through the hazmat masks. I looked up to see Dax and Zara sprinting through the gate to the outside, four men racing after them. Dax and Zara disappeared out of view—and then the men stopped and opened fire.

I opened my mouth to scream, but West circled my waist with his arms and pulled me back into the darkness. “Shhh. Don’t make a sound,” he ordered close to my ear.

My heart was racing. “Did they make it?” I asked in a panicked breath. My eyes were closed tight. I couldn’t look.

“I don’t know. I think so.” West turned me around and shook me. “Open your eyes. Look at me.” After I did, he said, “We have to go. We have to climb back over the wall. These guys are not asking questions. We won’t even get the chance to tell them what we have in our bags before they shoot us.”

He was right. We needed to escape. We needed to come up with another plan.

We ran the short distance back to the wall, and West helped me get started up the rope. When we were both on the other side, I stomped off in the direction of the gate.

“Where are you going?” West grabbed my shoulder, forcing me to turn.

“I’ve got to know that they’re okay.”

He placed his hands on my shoulders and pinned me with a hard stare. “You can’t help them right now. You’ll only get yourself shot or captured, most likely killed.”

I breathed hard, my eyes glued to his. I wanted to kick him in the shin. Instead, my body relaxed just slightly, and I leaned my forehead into his chest. “They were here to help us.” Or at least me, anyway.

West’s arms came up and circled around me, holding me tight. “We can’t stay here, Cricket. They’ll send out drones to scan the outer walls.”

I nodded, then I let West lead me directly up the mountain, forging a path away from New Caelum and back toward my campsite.

~~~~~

It took us twice as long to get back to my camping spot high above New Caelum as it had to get down. We took as many extra precautions as we could to cover our tracks and throw anyone off who might decide to come looking. That’s if they found evidence that we had penetrated the outer walls of the city in the first place.

By the time we arrived at the campsite, the weather had turned, and the wind was whipping through the trees. The temperature had plummeted. Neither West nor I uttered a word about the frigid air. This was the kind of cold that could kill someone unprepared. Which I was not.

I pulled the duffel bags from the trees, threw them in the center of a small clearing, and began digging out the necessities. West caught on pretty quickly and started looking through the bags as well.

Over the past couple of years, I had smuggled lots of supplies to this spot: a small tent, a sleeping bag, a battery-powered lantern, flashlights, extra batteries, nonperishable foods, tarps, ropes.

“We have to block the wind,” I said, handing West the tarp. “We’ll secure this in the trees to the northwest.”

“What about a fire? Do you think they’ll see it if we build one?” Worry rattled though West’s voice.

“Even if they didn’t, they’d definitely smell it if they wandered anywhere nearby. And they’re probably on high alert with the activity inside their walls tonight.”
 

I watched as West began tying a corner of the tarp to a tree. His hands shook. He didn’t even have gloves. It dawned on me that he hadn’t been in these elements in more than six years. His body was in no way acclimated for the weather we might experience tonight.

After securing my two corners of the tarp, I began sifting through the extra clothing I had stashed away. I had never been picky about sizes, especially when it came to coats and gloves. Finally, I found a pair of thick, hot pink ski gloves. “Here,” I said. He turned to me, and I tossed the gloves to him.

“Thanks.” He struggled to tug them over his shaking, already ice-cold fingers. “Nice color.” He smiled.

The tarp was secure, and it did a decent job of blocking the wind. I unrolled the tent, and after sliding the poles through the sleeves with West’s help, I staked the corners into the ground.

“That’s an awfully small tent,” West said, his implication obvious.

My face must have turned several shades darker as I stuffed the only sleeping bag into the tiny tent. When I was done, I faced West. “You won’t survive without the shelter of the tent and the warmth of the sleeping bag. Your body’s not used to these low temperatures.”

“You’re not suggesting that I sleep inside the tent with the sleeping bag and leave you out here in the cold? I’ve not once thought you’d grown into an idiot over the years—until now, if that
is
what you are suggesting.”

I glanced into the woods away from the campsite, then back at him. “I don’t sleep much. I’m going to hike back over to the lookout and watch New Caelum for a while. I’ll slide into the tent when I get tired or cold.”
After West falls asleep
, I added in my mind.

“So, you
are
stupid.”

I jerked my head and narrowed my eyes at him. “Look, asshole. There’s no need for you to tear me down. You and your friends are the ones who entered the outside world unprepared.” Something inside of me had definitely snapped. “On top of that, you brought Bad Sam with you. We were virus free!” I raised my hands in frustration. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to fight with you.” I pulled some hand warmers from a duffel, then ripped them from the outer plastic wrapping. “Here, take these. You shake them and squeeze them, and they heat up. They’ll do wonders for your fingers. You can even put them down in your shoes after they’re warm.”
 

Then I turned and stormed off.

I approached the spot in the trees where I liked to sit on top of an old tree stump and stared down into the city. The spotlights were still on, keeping the area between the buildings and the outer walls on display. Yet New Caelum was quiet. Hopefully, they’d decide that the threat was over and they could relax, let their guard down soon.

I thought of Zara and Dax, and a heavy pressure clamped down on my heart. Hugging my legs up to my chest, I rested my forehead against my knees and prayed they were okay.
 

“Christina,” West said softly behind me.

The muscles along my spine tightened at the sound of the name I had laid to rest years ago. “Please go away.” I tried, without success, to keep emotion out of my voice. Being near him again was starting to affect me in ways I didn’t understand.

He walked around the tree stump and knelt down in front of me. “I’m sorry.”

I raised my head. “For what? For calling me stupid? For bringing the virus back into a world of people that was finally feeling safe? What, exactly, are you sorry for?”

A hint of a smile touched the corners of his lips. “You’re not stupid. I’m sorry I called you that. That was just my insecurities talking.”

I set my feet back down on the ground, and West rested a gloved hand on my thigh, taking my gaze from the curve of his lips to where his hand touched me. Though the heat of his skin was far from reaching me through the layers of clothing, my leg tensed, and I let my eyes roam upward to his intense stare. A small fire erupted in the pit of my stomach. “Well, don’t bother being sorry about the virus, because I know you had no way of knowing what New Caelum was up to.”

“No, I didn’t. You have to believe that I only left the city with the hope of finding a way to save my sister. I never would have knowingly exposed others to Bad Sam. But now that this nightmare is back, I’m begging you to help me get back inside New Caelum. We need to figure out a way to put a stop to this disease.”
 

As I sat on the stump, West’s hands rested on either side of my thighs. He pinned me there with scared, vulnerable eyes. He had spoken like a true leader of New Caelum.

And he was right. This was exactly why I had stayed close to New Caelum all these years, wasn’t it? I had always known that Bad Sam still existed in the world. Caine had taught me that this was what doctors and scientists did: they kept things like Bad Sam and smallpox alive. For souvenirs, in the name of science and medical advancement—to study vaccines and how to treat the illnesses. The public ignorantly assumed that doctors and scientists had protocols in place to keep the public safe from future outbreaks of the same diseases.

And Caine had also taught me that, without my antibodies, innocent people would die in the next outbreak. That, because I was the only human to have survived the deadly virus, my blood was crucial to a possible cure. So I stayed.

But that wasn’t the only reason I stayed near New Caelum. I also stayed because of West. I knew he—my Westlin—was somewhere inside the city that I studied night after night, day after day. I had been only a child when I knew him, but Westlin was my first love, the boy—and, eventually, the man—I dreamt about.

Now, as I stared into his pleading eyes, I knew I would help him. Even if all of the people inside New Caelum didn’t deserve it, I would do what I could. Because that was the legacy my parents had instilled in me.

“I will help you,” I said with a shaky breath.

He didn’t smile when he heard my answer. He didn’t even look happy about the decision. He only nodded, knowing neither of us had a choice about what came next.

Finally, after Cricket’s teeth began to chatter, I convinced her that we needed sleep if we were going to figure out a way inside New Caelum the next day. And to get sleep, we needed warmth.

I crawled into the tent. Cricket followed. We both removed our cold boots, stuffed in some foot warmers, then set them aside. There was very little room to move around, but we had just enough room to sit up. Cricket had brought a large MagLite flashlight, good not only for illumination, but for knocking someone over the head if we needed to.

She was shaking, as was I, but unlike me, she barely had any fat or muscle on her body for warmth. I rubbed my hands up and down on her arms, trying to generate some heat. When neither of our sets of teeth would stop clicking together, I realized I was going to have to take drastic measures.

I unzipped the sleeping bag and slipped inside. “Cricket, look at me.”

She turned in the tight space. Her eyes followed the length of my body, noticing that I was now inside the unzipped bag.

“There’s only one way we’re going to survive this night without going into hypothermia.”

She took in a cold, shaky breath. Her shoulders slumped forward. “You’re right. This is ridiculous. We’re old friends, right? We’re going to need each other if we want to survive this.”

I was pretty sure she was talking about surviving more than just this night, but for now, we both knew what we needed to do.

Cricket wiggled out of her jacket and tucked it behind her. I followed her lead, discarding my coat. Next, she pulled her sweater over her head, leaving herself dressed in nothing but a black tank top and her cargo pants. I reached for the flashlight, and was about to turn it off when I noticed the scarring that extended down her neck, disappearing beneath her top, then reappearing on her arm. Pulling my glove off, I reached my fingers out and traced the markings on her cheek. Thanks to the hand warmers, my fingers weren’t ice cold as they ran along her pocked skin. “This was from the disease?”

She glanced down, and I wanted to hit myself. She certainly didn’t need me reminding her of what the virus had left behind. She raised her eyes back to mine. “Don’t feel sorry for me.” She grabbed my hand and rubbed it between hers. “I survived. Now, come on. We need to zip up into the bag before we freeze.”

We stripped down until she wore nothing but socks, a tank top, and underwear, and I wore socks, a T-shirt, and boxers. We had no choice but to hug close. I tucked her into my arms, her back to my chest, and zipped us in tight. We both continued to shake and shift uncomfortably.
 

Though at first I thought we were too late, and there was no way we were going to generate enough heat to survive the night, after ten minutes or so, I noticed a gradual increase in temperature. Slowly, sensation returned to my fingers as Cricket held my hands in hers. Her back started to warm against my chest.