Torn (29 page)

“We have to do something,” she told him. “You didn't know. But now we do, and we've got to fix it.”

“We've removed all the patients to the hospital here in Columbus,” he assured her. “They've been made comfortable.”

“Made comfortable.” Davis pulled back. “I don't understand. Aren't they receiving treatment?”

“They're getting treatments to ease their discomfort, sweetie,” her dad told her. “But most of them are near death. Only a dozen cases have survived, including you. Everyone else is dead or dying. But the good news is, the scientists think it's contained. Even if there's no cure, the disease should eliminate itself soon.”

“By eliminating the people it's infected,” Davis said, her voice stiff. Her father frowned. She could see in his eyes how helpless he felt. She realized then that he looked more tired than when she'd seen him last. His skin was sallow and his eyes were less bright. “I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I know you've tried.”

“Davis,” he started, his face tortured, “apologizing isn't enough. I know that. I sent you into danger. I didn't give you a choice. I'll never, ever forgive myself.”

Seraphina's face flashed through her mind, and the faces of the others from TOR-N: the old lady who liked to help out in the craft room; the boy who'd taught them all yoga. Were they still alive or had they succumbed to the disease?

“I forgive you, Dad,” Davis said, wrapping her arms around him once again. “You were just trying to save me.”

“I was. But I should have done more. I'm your father. It's my job to protect you.” He kissed the top of her forehead, and she leaned into him. It was such a simple gesture, one she'd taken for granted her entire life. “I'll never forgive myself for letting you out of my sight,” he told her. “Especially after what happened with Vera.…”

Davis drew back. “What do you mean?” she asked her voice panicked. “What happened?”

“She's gone, sweetheart,” her father said. “I'm so sorry. I don't know why I thought … of course you wouldn't have known. I tried to find her,” he said. “We both did, me and Terri. We called her parents, went to their house. They say she ran away and they can't find her. No one can. Everyone assumes she was paranoid about the disease. We have no idea if she survived. I'm so sorry.” He pulled her into a hug again, kissing her on the forehead. “We're so glad to have you back, honey. We'll keep searching for Vera.”

It wasn't until her father walked her down to her old bedroom and she closed the door behind her—seeing her mother's medal for the first time in months, seeing pictures of herself and Vera plastered tucked into her gilded bedroom mirror—that she collapsed with emotion.

She cried because her friends had died, and her mother had turned out to be someone unrecognizable, and she'd lost the one person she'd ever loved beyond measure, and the world was falling apart around her. Davis looked around her at the objects that had once held meaning for her but that now seemed foreign, and she realized she no longer knew where she fit. She didn't know how to stop feeling sad.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't hear the door open. It was only when Fia climbed up onto the bed next to her that she realized her sister had entered the room. Their dad stood in the doorframe, smiling tenderly.

“Looks like someone else missed you,” he said.

Davis shifted on the bed, winding her arms around her little sister. She breathed in her familiar, baby powder scent and buried her face in Fia's fuzzy black hair. Her heart lifted.

“Fi pea!” she exclaimed, wrapping her little sister in a hug. The sight of Fia—looking even taller and older after just a few months apart—made her smile, when she hadn't thought it was possible. She wrapped her arms tighter around Fia's narrow, birdlike frame, so grateful to have her sister alive and healthy and sitting beside her.

“I thought Daddy was lying,” Fia whispered in her ear. “But I made you a welcome home cake just in case. Mommy helped me.” Davis laughed, burying her head in her sister's dark hair.

“That was sweet, honey,” she said. “I missed you so much.” Her words didn't begin to explain how she felt. Everything had looked so bleak a second ago, and it still was. But Fia was a golden beacon of hope. A reason to keep going. She was lucky, and she knew that if Cole and Vera were there they would both agree. Davis lifted her head to see Terri standing a few feet behind Fia. Her smile was warm and her eyes brimmed over with tears.

“Davis,” she said, her voice unsteady. “We're so happy to have you home.” Davis stood, releasing Fia, and moved toward Terri. Terri, who had been there for her for the past four years, loving her as if she were her own. Terri, who had made her snacks before ballet and taken her to lunch, just the two of them, and talked to her about boys and growing up. She'd always taken Terri for granted—resented her simply for being the woman who had replaced her mother. Now she saw Terri and realized that the whole time she was searching for her mother, a mother had been right here, waiting for her to accept her love.

“Thank you,” she said to her stepmom, pulling her close. Terri looked startled at first; then she smiled.

“There's nothing to thank me for,” she told her.

“You've always been such a good mom,” Davis said quietly. “And I've never told you how much I love you.”

“I love you, too.” The intensity in Terri's voice brought fresh tears to Davis's eyes. “You're my daughter. I love you and Fia both more than anything.”

Davis felt the emptiness that had always existed somewhere within her begin to fill. For the first time, she felt nearly complete. The void Cole had left with his death, of course, would always be there. And Vera's disappearance had caused her more devastation than she knew how to handle. No one would ever replace Cole—not Mercer, not any other guy she might one day begin to care about. Today would have been the happiest day of her life, if only her love and her best friend were there to share it.

An hour later she sat eating cake with Fia and Terri. Her father had already left for the Olympiads, where, as city prime minister, he was required to make a speech. Davis had wanted to go, but her father had ordered her to stay put and get some rest. She didn't have it in her to argue. But now that she was here, once again doing nothing, thoughts of Narxis were plaguing her. Her dad had said the scientists had given up. How could that be possible? How could they be sure the disease was no longer a threat? It was troubling. Davis smiled at Fia as she chattered, and she complimented her little sister's baking, but her mind was racing.

“I have to go rest,” Davis said, standing up. “I'm not feeling well,” she amended, when she saw Terri's look of concern. “This news about Vera is overwhelming. I need to lie down.” Terri nodded, but she looked worried. She wrapped a protective arm around Fia and gazed up at Davis with concern.

“We'll be in the rec room,” she told her. “We trust you, Davis. We only just got you back. Please don't jeopardize that.”

“I wouldn't.” Even as she said it, she felt a pang of guilt.

Davis squeezed Terri's hand and pecked Fia on the cheek, then hurried to her room. Once there, she composed a note to Terri. She didn't want to worry anybody, but she wasn't sure how long she'd be gone, and there was no way she could put them through the agony of wondering whether she was okay—especially after she'd lied outright. But she had to get to the Slants, to find Thomas Worsley. She was certain there was a cure. Even without Cole and without Vera, she had to find one. They'd want her to. All hope couldn't be lost—not when she still didn't know whether Thomas had stumbled across any developments. Even if he had, it was likely that the Priors would have ignored them. She needed to see his progress for herself.

She waited an excruciating half hour before she snuck downstairs, laid the note on the kitchen counter, and slipped out the door. The movie they were watching—a classic Disney film from long ago—was playing loudly in the other room. She was confident they hadn't even heard the door latch shut behind her.

 

 

The trip to the Slants was different from what she remembered. It was both more ominous and less treacherous. The banks of the river were no longer guarded at all, but they were overgrown and strewn with garbage. Davis approached a raft stored up along the side of the riverbank and, seeing no one around to claim it, climbed in and rowed herself across. She was struck by how alone she was; the last time she'd done this, Cole had been with her. The memory seared its way under her skin, making her feel more alone than ever. And yet she was proud of herself for carrying on. It would be so easy to give up—to crawl into bed and sleep and sleep until this whole nightmare was over. She had even more strength than she realized. She was able to hold it together. She wasn't giving up on figuring out how to cure Narxis. She no longer had any care for whether she was doing something wrong. She had to get across, and quickly.

The atmosphere on the other side was like a free-for-all. People swarmed the streets, and the state of affairs was more desperate than before. Skinny children wandered in ripped clothing, eyeing her curiously. Davis didn't stand out as much as she used to—that much she knew. She'd lost weight at TOR-N, and she was wearing a nondescript sweat suit. Still, she was clean and relatively strong. Some of these children looked abandoned, like no one had cared for them in months. She promised herself she'd talk to her father about it later. What had happened to her city? How had Columbus, once a superpower, fallen apart so quickly?

She wove her way toward Thomas's lab; if anyone would know anything, it would be him. But as she approached, she was overcome by a sense of dread. The buildings leading up to the lab were no longer intact. Piles of charred wreckage were everywhere. Something awful must have happened—a fire or a looting. Her dread mounted as she turned the corner and faced the remnants of Thomas's lab. It was completely reduced to rubble.

Davis felt her throat tighten. Was Thomas okay? What had happened? Where was he, and where was Cole's brother, and the rest of his family and friends? Could they have died in the riots? She felt horror and shame for having been gone so long. She should have been there, making sure that Cole's family was okay in his absence. She should have forced her father to do something. Surely, there was something she could have done.

“Lookin' for Worsley?”

The voice was harsh, craggy. Davis turned, frightened.

“Yes,” she said, trying to sound brave. “How did you know?”

“This was his lab,” the old man said. “No one stares at a pile of junk like that unless they're missin' what it used to be.”

“Is he okay?”

“Worsley's fine,” the man said, leaning heavily on his cane. “Has a new lab now. North of here. In the old parking garage. You see that scaffolding?” He hobbled to the corner of the street and waved northward with his cane. Davis squinted. She couldn't see anything.

“That there. Peeking out from behind the yellow house. Here. Move to your right.” Davis took a few steps toward the man and peered in the direction he was indicating. Sure enough, there was a gray cement structure rising up about a mile away, further back toward the outskirts of town.

“You're sure Worsley's there,” she said doubtfully. “How do you know?”

“Take it or leave it,” the guy said with a shrug. “Everybody knows Worsley. He's the only doctor we got. Surprised you need the advice in the first place.” He raised an eyebrow, and Davis bit her lip, afraid of giving herself away.

“Thank you, sir,” she said to the man. “I really appreciate it.”

“Happy to help,” the guy said, turning to hobble back inside his shack.

Davis made her way to the parking garage, a little nervous about what she might find. She wandered through three levels before she spotted an old office in one corner of the fourth level—the kind that must once have been used by valets and parking monitors before everything became automated. The door to the office was slightly ajar and the window was covered with an opaque metallic shade. A narrow beam of light leaked from the gap between the door and the door frame, and as Davis approached, she heard low voices. One of them was feminine. Davis moved closer, her heart beating ever faster. The voice was lilting and soft. It was as familiar to Davis as her own.

Davis burst through the door to find Vera and Thomas Worsley sitting opposite one another in a small, sterile room lined with medical equipment. She paused, sucking in a breath. Vera was pale, drawn, and very pregnant.

In the space of a few seconds, everything fell into place: Vera's disappearance, her parents' silence, their reluctance to search for her. Davis drew a hand to her mouth, stunned.

“We had a conversation,” Davis started, thinking aloud. “Just before I was taken away. You said you had news.”

“Davis,” Vera breathed, struggling to stand up. “I wanted to tell you.” Thomas offered Vera an arm, and Davis rushed to her friend, wrapping her up in a hug.

“You're okay,” whispered Vera.

“You're
okay,” Davis replied. “I'm such a fool. I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner, you being here … being pregnant.” None of it felt real. Shock roiled across her, and she struggled for air. She'd hoped against hope to find Vera, but now that she had, her friend seemed like a product of her imagination. She was thinking this through her tears, when she realized her arms reached only partway around her friend's formerly petite frame.

“But are you healthy?” Davis asked, her voice anxious as she moved away again to examine Vera's belly. “You're pale, Ver. You look a little thin, aside from your belly. I'm worried about you.”

“She'll be fine,” Worsley broke in, holding Davis's gaze. Davis nodded, wanting with all her being to trust him. She couldn't think of the alternative, now that she'd found her friend again.