Toxic (20 page)

“Flying along the American coast, according to the beacon.”

“Pass him to me.”

The officer’s scaly face disappeared, replaced by the smooth and impenetrable one of the Lynian. He looked calm to him.
Jave is on to a clue
, Naakrit told himself. The confirmation didn’t take long. The image of a face with dark skin took up a portion of the virtual glow.

“You recognize him, don’t you?” Jave started.

He would have liked to know how he had learned about his existence.

“On my request, the abza’n Sarejt sent me the report on the escape,” the emissary revealed.

Naakrit was well aware of it.

What was the Lynian looking for? To point out his errors in the goal of inflating his own responsibilities? The merchant princes, among others, wanted to make a profit off of his license. The Commercial Collective’s rules prohibited anyone from taking possession of a holding by force. On the other hand, it was enough to demonstrate the inability or failure of its holder for it to be put back up on the market and sold once again to the best offer.

“Congratulations. You’ve found the only miserable creature that has been able to escape from a conditioning dome.”

“He’s part of a group which also contains the survivor. They are on a boat at large along the coast. I’m asking you for drone support to find them.”

According to the information gathered in New York, which was cross-referenced with the Russian’s words and the database, Site B was most likely a boat. The Lynian had not let his reputation down. He seemed to indeed be on to a serious trail. The Primark didn’t hesitate.

“Dubai HQ will respond to your needs to the extent that they are possible. Are you looking for a ship?”

“A type that humans call sailboats. They use wind as their means of propulsion. Very exotic.”

The brief description didn’t match that of the images of the grey ship which had docked in New York, which was bigger and didn’t have sails.

“Go have fun with your humans, but don’t waste time, as we’re planning to launch a large-scale search shortly.”

Even though his surprised feeling didn’t show on his face, the Lynian liked to be right, often despite all opposition.

“The Great Lakes region?”

Naakrit’s forked tongue shot out in a flash as a sign of confirmation. The Primark briefly invoked the arrangements to make during the next few octo-diems, including the establishment of the conditioning chain at the future advanced base of Nairobi. Jave requested to be a part of the operation upon his return.

“You will be welcomed as you deserve,” the Primark assured him.

The emissary cut the communication. Naakrit caressed the console’s touchpad. He was talking a huge risk by building the second treatment line for healthy products. He planned to use the former airport to expedite the merchandise directly to the megatransporter. Delivering on time to the Kuat Cartel sent a strong signal to the Combinate: he was in control of the situation. Of course, the best solution to the problem would be to find a cure and administer it to the infected masses. Next, he would be able to nick them when he wanted to. In the event of total failure, the planet-burner still remained as a way out. Radical, for sure, but it assured him that nobody would get past him to pocket this goldmine by giving humanity back its commercial value.

T
he rain which hit the windows distorted their view and caused an incessant uproar. Hector remained planted in front of the blurry view until Bruce asked him what he wanted to do after the storm had passed.

“Go back home,
tio
.”

Bruce was lying down on the sofa, his feet on the arm rests and his long blonde youthful hair on the faded cushions. Alison was sleeping on the bed on the second floor.

“We could stay here for a while. The villa looks big enough to me for us to not get into each other’s way and the island seems pretty safe.”

Sitting in front of him, Alva shared the first opinion but not the second.

“There must be infected. Like everywhere.”

“There are definitely less L-Ds than on the continent. The risk is lower.”

The Colombian acquiesced without wholeheartedly agreeing. He had been clear previously: he was planning to get back to Colombia. Period.

The artist left the chair and went in the direction of the hallway. Hector followed her. The small kitchen was also a smoking room, as they were trying to not expose the autistic boy and the young girl to the toxic smoke.

He found her against the frame of the sliding door which separated her from the covered patio. Her shoulder resting on the metal frame, she was taking drags from her cigarette. Her sensual lips opened to exhale the puffs. Her fingers tapped the ashtray on the counter. She was burning her agony.

“You… want to stay,
verdad
?”

She didn’t make the effort to turn around and continued to stare outside.

“Where could we go, anyways?”

His house, he almost said. It was too early for this type of proposition. He sat on a stool beside the kitchen island.

“Once upon a time, I would have whored myself out for a gram. I spent a fortune on all types of drugs. The invasion has at least one good thing about it: it made me quit that shit.”

Hector merely listened.

“I found a job and a group,” Alva continued.

“You were an artist,
verdad
? A famous singer. You didn’t have all that before?”

“Those relationships were based on drugs, sex and cash, and usually the first two at the same time.”

The young woman, who was looking outside, turned towards him.

“You want to go back to Colombia as soon as possible? You’ll have to do it without me.”

Hector scratched his neck. “Maybe the young guy isn’t wrong. We could wait it out here to recover our strength. Also, I have to find more supplies for a trip like that.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t do us harm. I’ve had enough of boats,” she declared, putting out her butt. “You seem like a… nice guy.”

Taken by surprise, Hector didn’t respond.

“What the hell are they doing, for Christ’s sake!” Alva swore. It’s been more than an hour since they left. I hope that they didn’t get into trouble.”

Elaine and Masters had changed their observation post. On the second floor of the residence, which had one room facing the garden, they searched for a way to help Dew. The latter, sitting on the tree house platform, remained out of the reach of the infected. Above all, Elaine remarked, he held his head straight and either didn’t seem to be undergoing a crisis or it had already passed. Like in Cocoa Beach. Their questions as to the frequency of episodes and what triggered them didn’t lead to anything. The colonel was right: they could no longer leave him without surveillance, which meant that they needed to organize. At least it was said. She agreed.

“We’ll think about this later,” Elaine responded. “First of all, we have to get him out of there.”

“Yeah. I only see one solution.”

The marine drew his 45.

“You don’t have enough ammo to kill them all, and the shots might attract others.”

He handed her the gun. “Here’s the plan. I’ll lure them and draw them off of the property. You go get Dewei. If a few stay regardless, kill those that you find. A shot in the middle of the head.”

The nurse looked at the pistol before declining the offer with a categorical “no.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’ll only take a few minutes to get back to the villa and secure it. You on the other hand, you have to draw them in the opposite direction and come back. That’s a way more dangerous situation. Do you feel up to being bait?”

“Don’t worry about me. This isn’t my first time dealing with these vermin.”

The enigmatic gaze that accompanied his smile reassured her as much as it left her confused. That reminded her of her father’s actions when dealing with challenges. She contented herself with agreeing. This wasn’t the time to discuss things, she recognized.

The marine left the room. Elaine put her back to the faded wallpaper. Of the previous decorations adorning the room, only the lifeless and old atmosphere of a house that has been on the market for too long remained. Except that white sheets didn’t cover up the furniture and there were no longer buyers or sellers. On the shelf in front of her, a frame contained a photo of a laughing teen with a red baseball hat. She spread the dusty curtains and saw Masters advancing along the patio. He had two pans, one in each hand. For a few seconds, he remained in front of the stone wall which separated him from the lawn transformed into fuzzy terrain where the massive bamboo shoots and high grass prevailed. And then he raised his arms.

The metallic clanking brought the infected out of their apathy. They immediately hurried towards the source of the noise. The concert of grunts suddenly amplified, reinvigorated by the prospect of feeding. Emerging from the underbrush and surging from behind the outbuildings, the creatures moved towards the soldier, who continued to bang the pans together. In the meantime, Elaine counted them. There seemed to be a lot more of them than they had imagined. Masters wanted to attract them all, without missing a single one. He was taking a risk, but, because he was on the patio, the infected had to go around it, which gave him some extra time. A traffic jam didn’t take long to form at the foot of the group. Masters banged incessantly, with the energy of the person who, in ancient times, sounded the warning to the people upon the arrival of invaders.

The jam grew quickly. Several bodies fell over, their hands stretched towards the colonel as the others trampled them. With the same sense of improvisation as that of a rock star, Masters turned towards the muddy crowd, arms raised, without interrupting his concert devoid of music. The excited grunts doubled. After half a minute, the dam broke all at once. The marine threw down his chance instruments and started to run in the opposite direction. He disappeared from the view of the nurse, who was hidden behind the second floor curtains.

Elaine wiped her forehead and closed her eyes for a moment. Right now, it was her turn to act.

After taking a quick breath, she went through the glass door and carefully stepped onto the balcony. The rain had diminished in intensity with the heavy rains giving way to showers, and although they continued, they were less annoying. Crouched behind a column supporting a vase, she observed the ragged creatures hurry towards the gate. Masters had opened it wide so that they would follow him outside. She remembered how difficult it had been to push the entrance gate’s metal panels. All of a sudden, the plan didn’t seem so solid to her.

He’s an officer and a marine. He knows what he’s doing
, she convinced herself.

Her head leaning over the parapet, she spotted the tree house perched in the back of the garden. Dew hadn’t moved despite the infected leaving. Would he refuse to come down? Elaine had decided not to abandon him. At the end of the balcony, a narrow staircase led to the former lawn. Water-saturated lichens covered the steep steps. She grabbed the handrail for fear of slipping. Below her, the tall grass danced under the effects of the wind. She cleared a path through it by going around the bamboo shoots. Moving around while keeping low, her heat beating and her breath a pant, added to her stress, which was already at its limits. She stopped several times, on the lookout. The infected were at risk of appearing at any moment, as it was impossible to say whether Masters had dragged them all along in his wake. So many people had ended up devoured, their body literally torn to pieces. She imagined once again the imploring and terrified faces on the yacht and in Key West. Up until now, she had been lucky.

Upon reaching the tree, she noticed the boards nailed to the trunk. She looked upwards towards the platform. The Asian was contemplating his feet, which he swung rhythmically like a child.

“Dew,” she said, trying to avoid raising her voice. “It’s Elaine!”

Dewei interrupted his movements. He leaned his head to the side to observe her. It seemed to her like he had smiled upon recognizing her or something like that. She judged this sign, which she nonetheless interpreted cautiously, as encouraging. She invited him to leave his perch.

“Dew! Come here. We’re going back to the others. We can’t wait around here.”

He picked up his bag and slid across the platform. He felt around to find support and then went down immediately, board after board. After a never-ending wait, she welcomed him with open arms. She still found it so difficult to judge his age. His shady expression contrasted with his adolescent features and skinny stature. She held him to her.

“I’m happy to find you alive.”

She grabbed him by the shoulders. His eyes remained unfathomable, as dark as balls painted with Chinese ink.

“Why did you disappear without saying anything?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, she heard odd gurgling noises behind her. Elaine turned around in a flash. The mangled faces emerged from the curtain of vegetation. Reacting right away, she grabbed Dewei.

“Let’s go. Quick!”

She directed him through the lawn without thinking. The only healthy behavior when confronted with a horde was to run without further ado. While they ran, Elaine clearly perceived the thundering of the creatures that were chasing them. Her pulse quickened. She looked everywhere while moving straight forward. They passed an outbuilding whose worm-eaten and faded enclosure wouldn’t have resisted the assault of the infected. Her breathing became more of a wheeze. She clenched her jaws upon spotting the handle of a shovel. The broken tool would make a good stake, she decided, remarking the beveled end. She grabbed it along the way. With the horizon obstructed by the dense vegetation, she had lost sight of the house. Dew was having difficulties keeping up with the pace which she had set, and she had to pull him, which added even more to the effort. After several dozen meters of painful progress, they came to the fence. Wherever they landed, it was always better to be on the other side. Elaine started to climb up the fence. The Asian watched her. Straddling its top, she saw six infected creatures approaching. They would be on them in a few seconds. The nurse leaned down to give her hand to Dewei and to help him climb.