Etherworld (28 page)

My gaze shifts back toward my dad, his arms crossed in front of him as if he's weighing his options. But I think we all know that there's only one thing left to do.

“Let's finish this,” he says.

The walk toward the southern part of the firewall feels more like a funeral march than a quest. As we trudge through clouds of ash and mounds of soot, our torches held high above our heads, no one utters a sound. We stopped off at the mine to pick up the bombs, and I was surprised to see that the once-giant piles were almost completely depleted, used up on missions. Since we won't be able to restock in between the remaining Escapes, we were each given two, the most my dad thought we could manage. I shoved mine into the pockets of Zoe's sweater.

I wish we were trying to focus on our sense of direction, but without a visible moon or sun to guide our way, it's difficult. No one is speaking; the survivors are reeling from what Josh just old them: that we found Nora's body in the Island Sector, and she's now lying in a hospital bed, still hooked up to her Equip and completely unconscious, unable to be revived.

Withholding the truth, like we did before with Anthony, wasn't something he could do anymore. Not under these dire circumstances.

Even though everyone took the news hard, especially Nora, Josh did the right thing by telling them the truth. I feel guilty for not doing the same with my dad and explaining why his health is failing him like this, and why he's limping at least twenty paces behind everyone else. I'm so concerned that my dad's weakened state will make it difficult for him to reach the ping tunnel.

But not quite guilty enough to come clean.

“Why don't you catch up with the others?” my father says, lowering his torch a bit so the white light dances in front of his sallow face.

“I'm good right here,” I say.

“I'm slowing you down. Really. Go ahead, I'll be fine.”

“You're not. It's these stupid boots.”

That's partly true. The heels of Zoe's designer boots are continually getting stuck in the soil.

My dad stops in his tracks and blocks my path. “You don't have to do this, Ree,” he says.

“Do what?”

“Remember what I said? It's my job to take care of you, not the other way around.”

“Dad,” I protest.

“Something is bothering you,” he says. “What is it?”

“Josh already told the group everything they needed to know,” I say defensively.

“Okay, but he didn't say what happened to the plan, Regan,” my dad says, coughing into his free hand. “To go to the media and expose Orexis.”

And find his body inside room 5020.

“It's a long story,” I say, stalling.

“I'll bet we have enough time for the highlights, don't you think?”

Josh, Patrick, and the rest of the crew stalk ahead. “We should hurry,” I say. “We're falling behind.”

“We'll catch up in a minute, Regan.”

“Please,” I murmur, my head bowing down.

“The plan, Regan. What happened?” he asks, stopping.

I take a deep breath and look up at him. “I did everything you asked me to do, Dad. I made it inside Orexis. I got into that room. And you weren't there.”

My dad reaches out to me with a trembling hand, and when I take it in mine, something plummets inside of me.

“I'm not surprised,” he says. “Cathryn knew you were onto her, and she had to get rid of the most damning evidence.”

“I don't know where she took you,” I say. “But Bryce gave us a lead and my friends are looking for you right now.”

“Good thinking,” my dad says, winking. “I'm pretty lucky to have such a smart daughter.”

I roll my eyes at him, my fingers slipping from his. “Don't patronize me, okay?”

“Regan, I'm not patronizing you.”

“I had one mission on the outside, and it totally failed,” I say.

As I turn away from my father, I tell him about my stay in the hospital, and the drama with Patrick and Cathryn—how she's trying to make it seem like he's mentally ill as well. “No one believed me. No one believed Patrick. Now everyone thinks we're suffering from nanopsychosis.”

“None of that means you failed. It actually means that you're brave,” I hear him say. “You kept going, kept pushing, no matter what got in your way. You never gave up. Not for a second.”

“Yeah, well. I guess it's in my genes,” I say.

I feel his hand on my shoulder, and it's ice cold. I spin around to look at him, and there are deep cracks forming on his lips, like he hasn't had anything to drink in days.

“What if we get through this—the inoculation, the destruction of Elusion, everything—but we can't find you when we get home?” I ask him, my throat tightening. “What if, after all this, I can't save you?”

“Listen to me, okay? What we're doing isn't about saving one person. It's about saving millions of people,” he says. “Deep down, you already know that, or else you wouldn't have come back to help us, right?”

Before I can answer, Josh's voice roars through a cluster of leafless trees and slams into the stone fortress of the firewall.

“Regan! David! Come quick!”

Without another word, my father and I begin running along the rocky path, dust and dirt kicking up behind us. I don't even look back when I realize he's lagging behind. I just can't get the sound of Josh's urgent call out of my head.

A million horrific scenarios flood my thoughts, all of them ending with one of my friends either injured or dead. Then the worst thing of all occurs to me: right now, we're in worm country.

“Hurry, Dad!” I shout, picking up the pace, pushing my legs to move as fast as they can. I skip over the remains of a burned-out tree, not waiting to hear a response from my father. I slow down to a light jog when I see the backs of Josh, Nora, and Wyatt huddled around a giant mound of sizzling flesh.

What the hell?

As soon as my father catches up to me, totally out of breath and almost wheezing, Patrick and Josh appear from the other side of this disgusting carcass, holding their shirts over their noses. The skin of this beast looks likes it was burned and charred, so the awful smell is carrying on the wind, and there's no way to escape it.

“This is the worm, isn't it?” Malik asks, grabbing for Nora's hand.

Josh walks up to what used to be the head of the hideous slug, and examines the remains of its all-too-familiar jagged teeth. “Looks like it.”

“I wonder what killed it,” Nora says.

“We were here a little while ago, so this must have just happened,” Wyatt adds.

Patrick squints at the decaying creature, looking frustrated that his eyesight hasn't returned to normal. “So there was a living organism in here?”

“Yeah,” Zared says. “That thing was scary as hell.”

“Amazing,” Patrick says. “We tried to develop living organisms for Elusion, but it was too hard. I finally managed to create a butterfly in a Phase Two Escape, but it wasn't easy. I worked on that thing for months.”

It's only been one night since Josh and I saw Patrick's butterfly, one night since we made our way through the firewall and were reunited with my dad. It feels like weeks.

“Except I never developed this thing,” my dad says. “That happened all on its own.”

“It's a byproduct of Elusion becoming a sentient organism, isn't it?” Patrick asks.

“I think so,” my dad says. “My guess is the worm was a result of Elusion's self-defense mechanism. The mines with the bombs weren't too far away. If Elusion is sentient, perhaps the worm was its way of trying to keep us away from our stockpile.”

“That still doesn't explain how this guy got fried,” Zared says, bending down to get a closer look.

“Maybe it has something to do with the adaptive bombs,” Josh suggests. “Maybe Elusion is growing weaker.”

“You could be right,” my dad says enthusiastically. “If you think of Elusion like a biological system, the bombs we've been setting off have been infecting it with a deadly disease. We're destroying it little by little, hoping for some residual damage.” My dad is getting more excited with each word. “I think this,” he says, motioning toward the dead worm, “is a sign that we're making some headway.”

“But what about the antiviral?” Patrick asks.

“Maybe it's not working as well as your mother hoped,” my dad offers.

“So destroying the Escapes has had a positive effect?” I ask. “We're getting somewhere?” I repeat, just to make sure I've heard him correctly.

“Yes,” he says, without hesitating.

For the first time since we've come back here, I feel a surge of hope. Maybe things are not as futile as they seem.

“We can do this,” my dad says. “We're going to defeat Elusion, and then we're going home, do you hear me?”

We all raise our torches in the air, cheering. It seems as if a huge weight has been lifted off all our shoulders, a sign that we can truly make it out of here. All of us.

Alive.

Josh walks over to me and, with a smile, grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. After all the disappointments and bad news we've received over the past day, it feels amazing to know that we might have a fighting chance.

We follow as my dad, suddenly energized, leads the way toward the ping tunnel.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

I'M STANDING IN THE SILVER DESERT Escape. A blue moon and pink stars glitter in the night sky. Mounds of sterling dunes unfold as far as the eye can see, shimmering so brightly I'm almost blinded. In each of my hands is an adaptive bomb. I know it should scare me, going into combat against a system with the ability to kill me in self-defense. But trypnosis is good that way, filling me with excitement and confidence instead of fear and uncertainty. I catch up to the others, keeping my thoughts in check and consciously pushing away any knowledge that could give Elusion a leg up on me—just like my father instructed us to do before we reentered the Escape.

“Regan, over here!”

I turn to the voice and see Zared and Patrick running toward me, their feet sinking into the hot sand with every step they take. They're wearing long cloaks and lace-up boots that reach their knees, and I'm dressed the same way. I slip my bombs into the pockets of my cloak, where they fit perfectly.

“Your dad found some ATVs,” Zared says, his face lit up. He gestures over his shoulder, and we follow him past a dried-up ravine and through a small set of dunes, where we see three black all-terrain vehicles with enormous deep-tread tires and red-flagged antennas attached to the backs.

“Are you guys ready for a wild ride?” Patrick asks, as he climbs inside. His eyes are blue again and, for the first time in days, completely free of worry.

“How should we split up?” Nora asks, the rising current of the wind ruffling her short hair.

“You and Malik go with Zared,” my dad says. “Patrick and Wyatt can go in the other one. I'll be with Regan and Josh.”

I have to admit, I'm encouraged by his appearance. He looks healthier than he did in Etherworld. His eyes are almost sparkling, and his skin has regained some of its luster. Josh smiles, and a ribbon of peace winds its way around me. The trypnosis must be intensifying, because I'm feeling so content about everything I'm almost giddy.

There's no doubt in my mind we'll succeed.

“I'll drive,” I offer, even though I've never operated an ATV before.

“I have a lot of hours clocked with four-wheelers at the academy,” Josh says, jumping in front of me.

“And I own, like, ten of these,” Patrick jokes to Wyatt, as he climbs into the ATV alongside us.

“Hop on,” Zared says, motioning for Nora and Malik to join him.

“Why are the guys driving?” Nora yells at me. “We should know better than that!”

I laugh as I jump in the front, taking a seat next to Josh. He steps on the gas pedal, propelling us forward at a high speed, leaving a mini sandstorm in our wake. As the cloud of silver dust dissipates, I look back up at the blue moon. It's a beacon, leading us across the ripple of silver dunes, and we drive under its light for what seems like a couple of miles, the roar of the engine still loud in our ears.

“Are you sure this is the right way?” Josh yells to my dad, who is holding on to the rim of the seat with both hands.

“Yes!” my father shouts back.

“Do the others know what we're looking for?” I say, loudly.

“The trigger was designed to resemble plant life, so look for something like that,” my dad says.

“Like a tree,” I ask, “or a cactus?”

“Yes, that's what I told the others,” he replies.

“Hold on!” I hear Josh yell.

Our ATV swerves hard to the left as I grab on to the hand strap, almost falling out of my seat. Josh steers us toward a steep incline, the base of one of the silver dunes. The tires grind in the sand as Josh slams down hard on the brakes. Zared's ATV is scuttling along on the right side, as Patrick's veers to the left.

As we continue to climb up the dune, I twist around, searching for anything tall with branches or leaves. But there doesn't seem to be anything like that in these dunes. I don't spot anything in the ravines, either.

Zared's ATV careens to a stop beside us.

“Where are Patrick and Wyatt?” I ask.

“It looked like they were heading up the other side of the dune,” my dad says.

Josh hits the accelerator and we zoom down the incline, my lungs filling with air and my heart leaping into my throat. I watch Josh's lips turn into a wide, ecstatic smile. It's almost as if we're back home, driving his motorcycle through the open streets of the Heights Sector, the scenery whipping into a hazy blur around us.