The Galilee Falls Trilogy (Book 3): Fall of Heroes (27 page)

God, it’s like we’ve gone back in time, back to the beginning. Feeling each other out, questioning every expression and word, awkward everything. Like we’ve never spent a dozen nights talking until dawn about nothing and everything. Like we’ve never seen each other cry or break down in fear. Like we haven’t kissed every millimeter of each other’s bodies. I hate this. I hate myself for my part in it. Especially now. Especially with him…no. Do it, Jo. You can. Be brave. Be strong.

Just do it.

“Jem?”

He spins around. “Yes?”

Say it.
Say it.
“Don’t go to China.”

The sides of his mouth twitches into a brief smile. “W-What?”

“Don’t go to China. Don’t go.
Please
.”

We stare at one another, our smiles growing in unison. “Really?” he asks breathlessly.

“Really,” I say, voice brittle. “Don’t go. Don’t leave me. Never. Ever.
Please.
”

“Oh, Joanna.”

He strides toward me and the moment he reaches me, he wraps one arm around my waist, pulls me against him, and places the back of his hand against my lips, kissing his own palm, before releasing me. Almost as sweet as a real kiss. He searches my eyes for my reaction but my smile says it all. He returns the gesture. “I’m not going anywhere. Never.
Ever
.” He kisses his palm again before beaming down at me. “I told you you had it in you. Never had a doubt, my love. Never.” His smile grows. “Good night.”

“Good night,” I whisper.

He starts down the hall again, stealing coy glances over his shoulder the entire way until he disappears into his bedroom. My smile drops the moment the door shuts. I manage to hold in my tears until I shut the bedroom door and curl into a ball in my old bed. I muffle the sobs with the pillow, purging the horror, the terror, the anger, the sadness for Ryder, for us, into the soft fabric. I’m scared, I am
so
damn scared. And how the fuck am I supposed to fight something I don’t even understand? All my money. All my power. All my connections. All my good intentions. What do they mean if I can’t save the man I love? And I do. I love him more than life itself. I never stopped. He’s in my blood. My heart. I can’t lose him. I can’t. I won’t.
I won’t.
Because he’s right.

Never
underestimate Joanna Fucking Fallon.

*

In our twelfth hour of quarantine we’re all brought into the Health Department lab for new tests and blood work. The spacesuits barely answer any questions. Not the best way to stop people from panicking. It’s getting damn tense in the house already. Devitt and the paramedic Gates almost came to blows over who got the last jelly donut. If this virus feeds off tension and terror, the fucker will be unstoppable. After breakfast, everyone went to their rooms and didn’t come out until it was test time. At least they let us have access to our phones when we’re not being poked and prodded. I have ten voice messages and twelve texts, more than half of those from Bennett. The rest are from V and The Guardian Society team. I text V back she can use her computer, and that I’m fine. Bennett’s going to take more than a text. I wait until the lab tech leaves the tiny room with my samples before calling. He must have been waiting by his damn phone because he picks up on the first ring.

“Jo? Are you okay?”

“Hi. Uh, yeah. Relatively.”

“What the hell is going on? I heard a rumor you were under quarantine after a supervillain attacked you?”

“Where’d you hear that?”

“I have friends in the Federal Health Department. Jo, is it true?”

“I’m not allowed to say much. Sorry.”

His end is silent for several seconds. “Jesus Christ, Jo. Jesus Christ.”

“It’s okay. It’s fine. Really.”

“Bullshit! You-You’re…I-I…I’m so sorry, gorgeous.”

“Thank you.”

“Is-Is there anything I can do?”

“Yeah, actually, I don’t, uh, know how long they’ll keep us here. Days, weeks, who the hell can say. They’re not telling us a thing. I won’t be able to handle any calls from the Society team. And—”

“No, I got it. I’ll tell everyone to call me with questions and whatnot. Don’t worry about a thing.”

“Just what I wanted to hear. Thank you. And try not to worry about me, okay?”

“I won’t because you are going to be fine,” he says with utter certainty.

I wish
that
was catching. “Just don’t let it all go to hell.”

“Of course not. I’ll take care of everything. I just…can’t believe this is happening. I’ll bet you wish you’d taken me up on my deserted island offer, huh? Well, the moment you’re given a clean bill of health we’re on a plane there. I won’t take no for an answer this time.”

I’m glad he isn’t here to see me cringe. This is certainly not the time for a conversation about us. “I’ll talk to you when I can. I have to go.”

“Take care of yourself, gorgeous.”

“I will. Bye.”

I hang up and sigh. I
do
wish I were on a deserted island right now instead of inside this freezing cold, antiseptic reeking closet of a lab room. The assistant releases me, sans cell phone, after a breathalyzer test, and its back to the bigger cage. At least they’ve made us more coffee. I only slept two hours. I grab a full cup and the last donut before slinking off to The Chamber again. Jem’s been conscripted by the Health Department, advising and aiding in their adenovirus research, but he did compile a list of doctors and companies worldwide he knows are working on adenoviruses. Having given up on tracking Ryder after several more frustrating hours, this is my new task. The list is longer than I thought and it’s not comprehensive.

I lost an hour with the testing so begin by reviewing the updated reports. The Feds and police are on the virus angle. Any facility or lab capable of holding, experimenting, or creating this bugger within fifty miles are being investigated and searched. All forty of them. And those are the ones they know about. If I were this mastermind, the whole operation would be off the grid. No official channels. No government oversight. There are ways. God knows how much the man or group of people have spent just developing the virus itself. Billions. One would think the money factor would dramatically reduce the suspect pool, but I can’t cross off a single name or company from Jem’s list. Every biotech and pharmaceutical company is worth tens of billions, right along with the CEOs and owners. Judging from the reports filtering in, all the Feds investigating keep running up against stonewalls from these people and organizations. Lawyers demanding subpoenas and warrants while the owners call in favors with judges and politicians to quash them. It’ll be months before they get access to a single record. Good thing I don’t need to stay within the confines of the law and bureaucracy.

The autopsy report might help narrow things down. Cause of death: muti-system organ failure by reasons unknown. Blood, fluid, and tissue lining filled twenty-five percent of his lung capacity. The muscles in his heart, kidneys, liver, stomach and intestines, along with seventy-five percent of his skin was covered with chemical burns of unknown origin. Blood tests were inconclusive due to the high pH level being twenty times the norm. There were indications of a high T-cell count consistent with fighting off a massive infection. The rest is about as useful, the crap I can understand. More tests required. In other words, his body went haywire. They have no idea what the fuck happened. Could be months before they know for sure. If ever.

Yeah, tracking the bug it is. First up, linking the scientists and doctors to the companies, followed by tracing the companies to their parent companies. Most of these, hell most of the companies on the planet, are owned by about ten corporations, Pendergast being low on that list. If memory serves we owned at least three biotechs, down to two when we sold Blackwater to Goliath. I couldn’t tell you the other biotech’s names let alone anything about the day-to-day running of the companies or their projects. Micro to macro, Jo. First focus on who could do this then onto who could give them the tools to. Another problem is just because this happened in our backyard doesn’t mean the mastermind isn’t from another country. Jem scribbled notes in the margin of his list. Typical doctor. I can barely make out the words even with months of practice. Something about not publishing and public appearances and patients for the past five years. I suppose if you’re working on a super-secret/illegal project you won’t be telling people about it. Should narrow the list. This is still going to take for-fucking-ever. Fifty items and nowhere near them all. That’s another two hours gone, adding to Jem preliminary fifty. A hundred twenty now. Ugh.

I fall back in the chair and sigh. Twice. No help. The weight of this task, the weight of our unknown fate, probably the antivirals they made us take again, it’s all making me want to crawl into a ball and sleep until this is over. I—

The tinkling noise from Doris stops my heart. My head whips up to her screen where the video chat window has popped up. What the fuck? Who has this…? My thinking
is
slow today. I accept the request, and Justin’s handsome face fills the screen. “Hello? I can’t see or hear you,” he says.

I plug in the microphone. “I don’t have a camera set-up,” I tell him. “How did you know how to contact us?”

“It’s my system, Jo,” he says. “I still have access. I saw you were on. Are you okay? Ryder’s name came up in an alert last night.”

“How much do you know?”

“I’ve read the reports. He’s dead? Really?”

Justin can’t hide his excitement. His hope. The man’s actually trying and failing to contain a smile. I understand it, I do, but I still want to reach through the screen and slap it off. “Yes,” I snap. “His body burned from the inside out for days like a roast pig and he drowned in his own blood and mucous after being tortured for weeks and injected with a virus that’s probably slowly killing us all. Time to party, no?”

The mirth drains from his face. “The bastard deserved it, Jo. You can’t deny the fact the world’s a better place without him wasting its oxygen.”

“Well, his oxygen left a parting gift. I’m saving the celebration for when we’re given a clean bill of health. Can we agree on that at least?” He nods. “You’re not in Galilee, are you?”

“I am. I’m at Jem’s. I followed you here. I—”

“Fuck,” I mutter. “Okay, look. There is a very,
very
good chance this virus was engineered to attack the uber-gene. You are not immune. There is also a chance Ryder infected a lot more people than just us. You need to leave town or at the very least avoid people and wear a damn HEPA mask.”

“Wait, targeting the…that wasn’t in the reports.”

“Because right now it’s speculation, but why else kidnap supers? Jem thinks the virus caused an autoimmune response in Ryder. His body attacked itself. And these adeno things have to be engineered. Someone did this deliberately.”

Justin lets this information sink in, his shoulders slumping as it does, until he’s all but slumping in his chair. “Shit. And Jem’s in there? Is he okay?”

“Fuck if I know. We don’t know
anything
, Justin. We don’t know what this is. If we can stop it. If there’s a cure. If we’re even infected. But Harry’s in here. Kowalski. Jem’s…” I shake my head. “This bug acts like a flu. It could have spread through the city, other countries by now.”

“But why go to all this trouble?”

“Because they can? Because it was a fluke like penicillin? We know
nothing,
and we’re running out of time. Hell, if this shit is airborne and already infected others, we didn’t have time to begin with. And I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t understand any of this medical crap. Jem gave me pages of people and companies to investigate. Over a hundred names. And I can’t even pay attention to any of it because I can’t stop imagining holding Jem’s hand as he literally melts in front of me, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Nothing.
”

“We are not going to let that happen,” Justin says with utter certainty. “Not to him, not to any of you. You are not alone in this, Jo. I-I’ll reach out to some people. You should have Jem do the same.”

“People?”

“Other supers. We all have connections. We’re all investigators or have access to people who are. Email me what you have now and have Jem send me anything else he can. We can have it all done in a day or two if we all pitch in.”

“That’s…a great idea. Okay. I’ll talk to him.”

Justin stares through the screen as if he can actually see me. “I know you’re scared. For them, for yourself. But you are going to be fine. So are they.
You will be fine
.”

When he says it, sure as spring will come, I believe him. “What does Lucy always say? ‘Pray to God but swim to shore?’”

“Well, you’re going to have the entire army and navy coming for you, Jo. Put up the list and I’ll start reaching out.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“Of course.
Of course,
” he says desperately.

I gaze at him on the screen, trying so hard to hide his own terror, it almost breaks my heart. He means it. Every word. My best friend, even after all we’ve been through. All the damage, all the anger I’ve directed and inflicted upon him, and here he is. He will do anything within his power to save me. It actually brings a smile to my face. “Glad to have you on the team. I’ll be in touch. Bye.” I end the chat.

An army. We have an army. It damn well better be enough.

It
has
to be.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

All or Nothing

“You’re all infected.”

I knew it before Dr. Vaugh said it. If the fact he and his assistant entered the house wearing the Hazmat suits, or that they made us all gather in the library and wouldn’t start talking until butts were in the seats, was. Yet the color drains from all our faces and the paramedic Gates bursts into tears. Her partner Hernandez wraps his arm around her. Kowalski begins taking deep breaths, and Devitt shakes his head. I glance at Jem, who stands near the doctors. He nods at me. Fuck. No. Him too.