by Erin Bowman
She spun.
Coen stood on crutches in the doorway. “I’ll give you a few minutes,” the nurse accompanying him said, and closed the door. When it clicked shut, Thea wasn’t sure if she was glad the GDC agent was waiting in the hall or not. They were very alone.
“I had a session in a regen bed this morning. Surgery is rough when you don’t have superhuman healing skills.” He smiled and it lit up his whole face. His hair was pulled back in its typical fashion, half of it in a bun at the crown of his head, the rest falling to his shoulders.
“You can take that mask off,” he added. “It’s just the two of us in here.”
She pulled it off and held it by her knee, letting it dangle by the elastic.
“Thea, say something, please.”
“Is this the hospital your sister is at?” she asked. It was the first thought that came to mind.
“She’s across town. I haven’t seen her yet.”
“But she’s well?”
His gaze fell to the floor. “She’s holding on. If she can last just a little longer, we might get the money for the treatment she actually needs. My parents mentioned a settlement.”
Thea would have known all this if they were still bonded. Her chest ached—for what they’d lost, for what his family still had to endure. She’d been so focused on the good to come from the last few days—the realization that an antibiotic for Psychrobacter achli would likely be developed in the coming months—that she’d forgotten how broken things still were. The Radicals had been thwarted and the Trios was still a part of the UPC, but the Union had its problems. For someone to suffer from something treatable, to toe death’s doorstep when a richer person would recover quickly . . .
Civilization had come so far. In tech. In resources. And yet some things were still so backward. A settlement shouldn’t have to be Gina’s only hope.
“They’re going to start work on an antibiotic,” Thea said.
“I heard.”
“Do you want to sit?” She glanced at the visitor’s chair, the bed. Coen was hunched over the crutches in a way that looked completely uncomfortable, and anything would be better than this awkward meter between them. Close enough to see the pain in his brow and the longing in his eyes, but far enough that she didn’t feel like she could close the distance.
“How are you feeling?” she asked when he didn’t answer.
“Stop it. That’s not what you came here to say.”
“I didn’t come here to check on you?”
He sighed, shook his head. “You’re acting like you don’t even know me.”
“I don’t,” she admitted. “Not really. We were what we had to be to survive. Maybe now we’re supposed to go back to how things were.”
“When? When we didn’t know each other? I don’t want to go back to that.”
She couldn’t look at him. Everything was awkward. If she could just hear his thoughts, if she could just know what he was thinking, she’d be able to say the right thing.
He hobbled nearer, stopping before her. Crutches still hooked beneath his arms, he used a finger to nudge her chin up so she was forced to look him.
“Tell me you don’t want to try, and you can walk out of here and I’ll never see you again. Tell me that’s really what you want and I won’t argue. But it’s supposed to be hard, Thea. And sloppy and awkward and new. That’s how it was when we first bonded, remember? Now we just have to do it again. Without being in each other’s heads.”
His eyes were urgent, their brown depths practically glowing. It dawned on her how little time she’d really spent with him like this—up close and personal. There were those few days when they’d been bunked together, but otherwise, so much of their relationship had been between walls and space suits.
He reached out and took her hand, threading his fingers between them. Pulling her nearer.
“You know what I’m thinking,” she said, realizing it was true. Not about everything—what they’d had before was a special kind of magic—but partially. He still knew.
“What’s that?” he said with a smile.
“I do want to try. I do. But I’m scared. To screw it up. For it to not be as amazing.”
“You said it was only happening on Kanna7 because we had no other choice. Remember that?” He was staring straight at her—into her. “Well, we have all the choices in the galaxy now, Thea. Six-point-five billion people on Eutheria alone and we can choose any of them. I still choose you.”
“I didn’t have a choice then, and I don’t have one now,” she said. “It’s just you. The bond broke, but it didn’t. You know?”
“God, do I know.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her.
In that moment, with their lips pressed together, he knew everything. It wouldn’t be easy, and he was sure to read her wrong at times. They’d misunderstand or judge unfairly. They’d communicate poorly. It would be messy and real and perfectly human. But as they kissed, he knew that she’d meant it. She hadn’t said it just to appease him. She wanted to be here. She wanted him.
They broke apart and smiled. He’d forgotten how beautiful her smile was.
“Amber told me she’s going to catch a movie with Nova tonight,” Thea said. “She said we should come.”
“That sounds so . . . normal.”
“Doesn’t it?” Her eyes flashed with excitement, but he couldn’t mirror it. All those people dead on Xenia. His sister’s fate still uncertain. “Coen, we have to let ourselves live a little. We’re all grieving, and the Union isn’t perfect, and fighting to make everything right will be exhausting. We can’t always be on full alert. We did that the past few months, and I gotta be honest, I don’t think my body can handle that level of stress constantly. We can do something for ourselves. It’s allowed.”
He let out a sigh. This girl. He didn’t understand how the worst thing that had ever happened to him had led him to her.
“Show is at seven. Private screening because . . .” Thea made a gesture at her front. “Well, me and Amber, I guess. We get followed everywhere by GDC staff right now. There’s an agent outside your room. Anyway, you can pick me up and it will almost be like a date. A date with a pair of creepy chaperones shadowing us. And I’ll have to wear my mask. Sexy, I know.”
He laughed. It made his stitches ache, a reminder of how different they now were.
“So I’ll see you later?” she asked.
“No.”
She frowned at the response, confused.
He’d been discharged after the regen bed session. His parents were getting the car so they could head across town to Gina’s hospital. “There’s someone I want you to meet first.” He hadn’t told her where they were going, but somehow, he could sense that she knew.
Coen took her hand, and they faced the door the way they’d faced everything the past few months: together.
“Explain.”
The programmer fidgeted in her chair. Four GDC officers stood rigid along the room’s perimeter, watching as the head agent scowled down at her.
She’d known it would come to this. Everything she’d done—every decision she’d made in the last thirteen years, and especially in the last few weeks—had always been about getting to this moment.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said glibly.
The head agent set his Tab in front of her. A familiar freeze-frame filled the screen. “This was sent to us from Bev. Apparently someone saw the news about Xenia and couldn’t remain quiet. He said his company’s fuel powers your flux drives.”
“It does. It’s wonderfully stable, remarkably powerful.”
“And incredibly dangerous,” the agent snarled. “You were shown this footage, according to him. Did you forget?”
Naree hadn’t forgotten. She knew everything she would see, even as the agent reached out and pressed the play prompt.
Devon in his medical bed, pale and sweaty and stripped to his underwear. His veins black from the blood poisoning, a cobweb
of darkness pulsing beneath his skin. His eyes bloodshot. A bead of blood dripping from his nose.
The footage sped on as he thrashed, clawed at his face, batted away a sedation needle. He blinked, eyes filling with blood, and burst free of his restraints.
That was when Dax entered the medbay and shot his brother in the head.
“Devon fell on the job several months earlier, didn’t he?” the agent asked.
“So I’ve heard.” There was no use lying. “His suit was breached and he suffered terrible burns from the cold. They thought the blood poisoning was somehow related to the burns.”
“But it wasn’t. This video proves it. He came in contact with something. Some sort of contagion in the AltCor, much like what your daughter encountered on Achlys, only this strand of the parasite takes months to fully infect its host. All of which you knew after seeing this footage, and you still accepted the shipment of AltCor. Brought it to Casey and put it in your drives. Flew it to the Union! The fact that the losses on Xenia were from Psychrobacter achli doesn’t invalidate your guilt in this. You ignored the risks. You endangered an entire system!”
Naree raised her chin, looked him in the eye, and spoke the words she’d been planning since she bumped Sol’s Tab against the man’s from shipping, transferring the damning footage. “Solomon Weet ordered me to accept the AltCor. He abducted me years ago, held me hostage all this time. He only sees unnes, just like Dax, who killed his own twin in that video. You’ll notice there’s no record of Sol buying the fuel. He and Dax don’t like records. But you’ll find the footage of Devon’s reaction on Sol’s personal Tab, buried in an encrypted folder. He saw the risks. He knew about them and he didn’t care. I followed his orders because I feared for my life. I have since he abducted me.”
The agent’s brows furrowed. He licked his lips, then brought a hand to his ear. “Get Solomon Weet in here and confiscate his Tab. Also, I want that containment briefing from Bev already! Get me updates!” His gaze homed in on Naree. “Take her outside and get a written statement,” he said to one of his men, “but don’t let her leave. We could have an outbreak on our hands—on hers and Weet’s. He may take most of the fall, but she’s not getting off free.”
Naree smiled as they hauled her from the chair. It was her word against Sol’s, but she was the victim and he had the criminal record. A fugitive from Eutheria. A company with a history of illegal black market purchases. A drive built outside of UPC laws. A damning video saved on his personal Tab.
She’d take her chances. If she went down with him, it would be worth it.
The officer guided Naree from interrogation. In the hall, Sol was being escorted by a pair of agents. His feline eyes were narrowed, his lips curled in a snarl. He’d already been briefed, she imagined. He knew what fate awaited him in that room.
“How could you?” he growled as they passed.
“I would do anything to get back to my daughter. You of all people should know that.”
Panic flicked over his features. “Naree, please. I’m sorry about what I did to you, but you have to help me. You have Thea now. Why won’t you help me?”
They dragged him on.
“Help me, you ungrateful, backstabbing traitor!”
She squared her shoulders and spoke to him one final time, a smile on her lips. “I promised I would ruin you one day. I promised.”
His face paled. The guards shoved at his back.
When she blinked, he was gone.
Acknowledgments
There was a time when I thought I’d never finish this book, and yet here I am, writing the acknowledgments. I did it. (Somehow.)
Many thanks to my agent, Sara Crowe, and the team at Pippin Properties, who do so much behind-the-scenes work to ensure my books succeed.
Additional thanks to my editor, Erica Sussman, and everyone at HarperTeen who worked on this project. Many of you touched Contagion and Immunity without me even knowing it. Thank you for your time and efforts.
Many friends supported me in various ways as I worked on this book, checking in with me via text, brainstorming plot points aloud, cheering me on when I was in a rut, or simply listening when I had to vent my frustrations. To Alex Bracken, Susan Dennard, Jodi Meadows, Mackenzi Lee, Sara Raasch, and Tara Sonin: thank you.
I couldn’t do any of this without the support of my family—a family that grew between the day I drafted these acknowledgments and the last time I drafted them for Contagion. Rob, who is patient and never loses faith in me. Casey, who keeps me humble (and is starting to grasp what I do for a living and show excitement when finished copies arrive, which brings me the greatest joy). And Jeff, who keeps me humble to the max (and has no idea what I do in my office three days a week)—this one’s for you, buddy. If I’m really lucky, maybe I’ll be able to write long enough that you get another book dedicated to you. Your sister also!
To everyone who has supported me in one way or another—booksellers who push my books, librarians who stock me on their shelves, teachers who recommend my titles to readers—thank you.
And because I like to end acknowledgments the same way all the time, thanks to You, person holding this book. You are the most important piece of this puzzle. I wouldn’t be an author without readers, so thank you for seeing this duology through to the end. I am so very grateful.
About the Author
PHOTO BY CAREY HOUGH
ERIN BOWMAN used to tell stories visually as a web designer. Now a full-time writer, she relies solely on words. She lives in New Hampshire with her family, and when not writing she can often be found hiking, commenting on good typography, and obsessing over all things Harry Potter. Erin is also the author of Contagion, the Taken trilogy, Vengeance Road, and Retribution Rails. You can visit her online at www.embowman.com.
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Books by Erin Bowman
Taken
Frozen
Forged
Stolen: A Novella
Vengeance Road
Retribution Rails
Contagion
Immunity
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Copyright
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
IMMUNITY. Copyright © 2019 by Erin Bowman. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.epicreads.com
Cover art © 2019 by Bose Collins
Cover design by Michelle Taormina
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Bowman, Erin, author.
Title: Immunity / Erin Bowman.
Description: First edition. | New York, NY : HarperTeen, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers, [2019] | Series: Contagion ; 2 | Summary: Teens Thea, Coen, and Nova are rescued from a deadly planet, only to be taken prisoner on board a government ship and used as weapons in a sinister political plot.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018061524 | ISBN 9780062574176 (hardback)
Subjects: | CYAC: Ability—Fiction. | Prisoners—Fiction. | Science fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.B68347 Imm 2019 | DDC [Fic]—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018061524
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<
br /> Digital Edition JULY 2019 ISBN: 978-0-06-257421-3
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-257417-6
1920212223PC/LSCH10987654321
FIRST EDITION
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