by Megan Crewe
“We need another pen, and a bunch of paper,” I said.
“There was a desk in one of the bedrooms,” Leo said, standing up. “I think I saw some there. What are we doing, Kae?”
“I’m still figuring that out,” I said. “But I think it’s going to be good.”
My plan required that Justin part ways with us early. “You don’t have to worry,” he told me, when I went with him to the door. “I’ll stick to the script.”
“I know,” I said. Justin had come a long way from the hotheaded kid who’d joined us a month ago. “I wouldn’t have asked you to do this if I didn’t know that.”
He smiled, pleased but nervous, and gave me a brief salute before shambling down the street with his stick.
It took me and Leo a little more than an hour to finish our frantic copying of Dad’s notes. Then we left too, heading south. The neighborhoods between the one we’d holed up in and the Centers for Disease Control fit the same leafy, suburban mold. We walked through the yards hand in hand. Leo held the cold-storage box, and I had the strap of a soft-sided cooler we’d found in the house’s kitchen over my shoulder. We’d split the mushy snow that had remained in the cold box between the two. To make things as equal as possible, I’d filled a syringe with half the contents of one of the vials, so we each had one and a half samples of the vaccine. And a slightly differing set of copied notes. Dad’s original notebooks we’d left behind, wrapped in the plastic bag to protect them from damp and wedged into a gap under the basement stairs, out of view to anyone who didn’t know where to look for them.
As Leo and I approached the university grounds the CDC sat in the middle of, we had to duck behind fences and hedges three times at the sound of car engines. One of those cars drove directly past us while we hunched by a vine-strangled shed. The Wardens were gathering. My heart thudded as we hurried on. We’d know soon whether Justin had delivered our message unharmed.
We’d know whether Michael was truly as reasonable as he’d said.
When I spotted the taller buildings that Dr. Guzman had said would mark the end of the residential area, we halted. I turned to Leo. The bruise on his cheek was starting to fade, purple red blending into brown. I touched the skin beside it gently and rose on my feet to meet his lips when he tipped his head toward me.
He drew out the kiss, as if maybe we could just never stop, never have to face another moment of danger. When we finally eased apart, I had to catch my breath before I could speak.
“You’ll stay out of sight?” I said. “Until I call you?” I patted the two-way radio I’d hooked to one of my belt loops.
Leo nodded. “And if you don’t call after a couple hours, I’ll go to the CDC myself.”
Now that we were so close to our goal, now that I had to leave him, the doubts I’d managed to suppress before were bubbling up inside me. If any part of this plan went wrong, it would probably mean at least one of us dead.
But then, not trying might mean that too.
“Hey,” Leo said, and squeezed my hand. “Whatever happens, I’ll be right behind you.”
“And if something happens to me?” I said.
“Then I’ll keep at this until everyone in the world is protected, or I’ve died trying. Justin and I know where the notebooks are—we’ll make sure someone knows how to make the vaccine. Kaelyn…” He waited until I met his eyes. “I’m here for you, but I’m here for me too. Because I believe we’re doing the right thing. If something happens to me, that’s not on you. You know that, right?”
I’d thought I did, but hearing the words released something inside me. I kissed him again, hard, wishing I could convey everything I was feeling from my lips to his. Leo set down the cold box and pulled me into an embrace.
“I love you,” he said by my ear.
“I love you.” I tightened my grip on him until tears crept into my eyes, and then I let him go.
“No more than two hours,” I said.
“You’ll be calling before that.”
I took one last look at him, and then headed down the street.
After another block, the cover became sparse. I edged past a large building that looked like some sort of Gothic mansion, darting from pine tree to pine tree. The houses on the other side of the road had given way to office buildings and weedy lawns. I hesitated on the brink of a wide intersection, scanning the roads and listening. This was the street Dr. Guzman had told me to take. Where was the military assistance she’d said she’d send?
An engine gunned to my left, and then cut out. Footsteps thudded ahead of me. I dropped down behind an overgrown shrub as two men in civilian clothes hurried around the corner.
When the men had disappeared down the street, I dashed across the intersection. I was just coming up on the grassy slope beside the sidewalk when a couple soldiers stepped out from behind a tree made fat by loops of vine. Both of them carried rifles. The taller one, a square-jawed man with lightly tanned skin, waved me over.
“Kaelyn Weber?” he said under his breath. I nodded. “Where are the others?”
“It’s just me right now,” I whispered, and patted the cooler to indicate I had the vaccine. He frowned, but he gestured for me to follow him and his companion.
We jogged past the scattered trees and mounds of vine that covered the slope. A fence lined the opposite sidewalk, made of wrought-iron bars that rose from a brick base. It had been fortified with sheets of plywood and corrugated steel that blocked the gaps between the bars, and topped with curls of barbed wire. Up ahead, a lane branched off from the road toward the fence. What had once been a gate there was blocked with boards and battered furniture and more steel and wire. The barrier looked completely solid, but the soldiers went straight to it, scanning the street as we hustled across.
The moment our feet hit the sidewalk, one of the boards was wrenched aside, creating a narrow gap in the barricade. A hand reached through it. The guy behind me nudged me forward. I took the hand and let the person on the other side pull me in. My shoulders bumped against the sides of the gap, and then I was stumbling out into a wide uncluttered lane.
The soldiers who’d come to meet me ducked through after me. One shoved the board back into place and secured it while the woman who’d helped me through hopped back onto her post beside the gate. Another soldier perched across from her, rifle at the ready, watching the street.
The square-jawed man gripped my elbow, ushering me up the lane toward the buildings that loomed ahead.
“We expected you earlier,” he said curtly. “What happened? Dr. Guzman said there should be four of you.”
We hadn’t told her what had happened to Anika. I grasped the strap of the cooler to steady myself. I couldn’t let this situation slip out of my control.
“I need to go to the front gate,” I said. “Which way is that?”
The soldier’s frown deepened. “Dr. Guzman is waiting for you. If your friends went to the front gate, the maniacs out there have probably already caught them.”
“I need to go to the front gate,” I repeated firmly, “or I won’t be able to give Dr. Guzman what she wants.”
“I think you’d better talk to the doctor about that.”
“Then let her come down here.”
He was still frowning, but he pulled a walkie-talkie from his belt. “The girl’s here,” he said. “She wants Guzman to come down. Let’s have the doc sort things out.”
We strode past a building of red brick and another of pale concrete set with rows of high windows. “That’s the front gate,” the soldier said, stopping and motioning down another lane to a spot where a single sheet of steel stood amid the plywood-and-furniture barricade covering the fence, about twenty feet away. Two more soldiers were stationed there. The sound of murmuring voices carried through the wall, and then the rumble of a car sweeping past.
When my escort stayed where he was, I marched on toward the gate. I was halfway there when he caught up with me, yanking me to a halt.
“What are you doing?”
>
“I need to talk to someone,” I said.
“Do you have any idea—”
He paused as a door whined open on one of the nearby buildings. A stout woman with round-paned glasses hurried over to us, swiping her short black hair away from her eyes. Another woman and a man, both wearing lab coats, trailed behind her.
“You must be Kaelyn,” the first woman said. “I’m Sheryl Guzman.” She held out her hand for me to shake, and her gaze dipped to the cooler at my side. “You have the vaccine in there? Why didn’t the others come with you? What’s going on, Sergeant?”
“Apparently they came around front,” the soldier with me said. “She thinks she’s going to talk to them.”
“No,” I said. “I need to talk to someone else. If you’ll just listen to me we can get this over with, and everyone will have what they want.”
Dr. Guzman’s brow knit. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ll explain everything in a minute,” I said. “Believe me, if you want to be able to make the vaccine, I need to do this.”
The sergeant looked at Dr. Guzman. She pursed her lips, and then shrugged. “After all this time, I can’t see how another minute will hurt.” But she hadn’t stopped eyeing the cooler.
I stepped away from my escort and walked right up to the corrugated steel sheet that fortified the gate. “Hey!” I shouted, and kicked the metal so it rang out. “Is Michael there yet?”
My question was met by a momentary hush, and my heart sank. If he wasn’t there, if I hadn’t given Justin enough time, I wasn’t sure how long I could convince the scientists and their soldier allies to wait.
Then a familiar dry voice carried through the barrier. “I’m here.”
I exhaled. “And Justin’s with you? No one’s hurt him?”
“I received that part of the message too.”
“I’m here,” Justin’s voice called out. “They’ve been all right.”
“Then you know you’re not getting anything until he’s in here safely,” I said to Michael.
“I’m ready when you are.”
I turned back. “We need to open the gate,” I said. “Just long enough to let one person in.”
“Kaelyn—” Dr. Guzman started.
“If you want the vaccine, that’s what I need,” I said. “It’s not all here.” I raised my voice so it could be heard on the other side of the fence. “And Michael’s people know that if there’s one shot fired, they’re not getting what they want either.”
“That’s right,” Michael said. “For the moment, we’re here to talk.”
“You can’t trust them,” the sergeant said.
He could have been right, but I’d already committed to taking that risk. “If you’re worried, stay out of the way,” I said.
“Just open it,” Dr. Guzman said.
“Sheryl, I’m not sure—” one of the doctors behind her broke in, and she cut him off with a glare.
“We decided I would call the shots on this one,” she reminded him.
He and the other doctor moved to the side, out of range of any guns beyond the gate. Dr. Guzman stayed where she was, a few feet behind me, her hands on her hips.
The sergeant looked to his colleagues at the gate. “Be ready,” he said.
When the others nodded, he bent to shift the concrete blocks that propped the steel sheet in place. Then he slid the sheet a couple feet to the right, revealing the vertical iron bars of the actual gate. A dense cluster of vehicles and people stood on the other side, with Michael at the front of the crowd. A few of the Wardens jerked forward instinctively at the sight of the opening, and someone let out a hoarse shout. Michael’s arm shot into the air, signaling them to stand down. The crowd settled, but I could see the muzzles of several pistols and shotguns glinting in its midst.
Justin left Michael’s side and ran up to the gate as fast as his bad leg allowed.
“He’s the one we’re letting in,” I said to the soldier. “He’s with me.”
The sergeant grimaced, but he unlocked the heavy chain that held the gate closed. As soon as he’d eased the gate open, Justin squeezed inside and ducked around behind the wall. The sergeant jerked the gate shut the second Justin was through. No one else had budged. Michael watched me, his eyes hard.
When the sergeant reached to pull the steel sheet back into place, I said, “No. Leave it. I’ll be fast.” I needed to see Michael, to evaluate his expressions, his body language, before I could make the final decision about whether to go through with this.
“This is the deal,” I said, glancing at Michael and then at the doctors. “This is what everyone wants.” I set the cooler on the ground in front of me, knelt down, and unzipped the lid just long enough to grab one of the vials—the one that was only half full. As I held it up, the amber liquid caught the sunlight. A murmur rose on Michael’s side, movement rippling through the crowd. Michael motioned them silent.
“Millions people are dead because of the friendly flu,” I said. “This vaccine will mean we can finally stop being scared of the virus, but I don’t want to keep watching the rest of us trying to kill each other. We should be working together to survive. I don’t think we’re going to survive if we can’t stop fighting. No one should be forced to do things they don’t want to in order to get the vaccine.” I fixed Michael with a stare, and he glowered back. Then I turned to the doctors. “And no one should be told they can’t have it because of what they’ve done to stay alive. No one deserves to be infected.
“The vaccine was made with two different sets of proteins,” I went on. “So I’ve brought half my dad’s samples for the CDC, and a copy of his notes that includes instructions on how to clone and treat only one set of the proteins. If we can all agree, then I’ll call someone to bring the other half, and a copy of the notes that includes instructions on handling the other necessary set, for you.” I looked back at Michael. “The vaccine’s not going to work with just one set or the other. So at some point you’ll have to get together to combine them, and to figure out a way for you both to distribute the finished product. I don’t think one group of people should be making all the decisions anymore.”
The second my voice fell, I was bombarded with accusations from both sides. “Who the hell do you think you are?” one of the Wardens snarled, and another hollered, “Screw that, we’re taking it all!” and the doctor who’d spoken up before started gesticulating wildly, saying, “You’re crazy, you can’t give any of it to them! It’s because of people like them we’ve had to lock ourselves in here,” and Dr. Guzman, in a kindly patronizing tone that made me angrier than everything else, murmured, “Kaelyn, I don’t think you’ve thought this through.”
As if I’d had much to do in the last six months other than think, while I watched my neighbors and friends and family die.
“Stop it!” I said. “We can only talk if you’ll listen.”
The crowd behind Michael pushed forward, guns flashing, and the soldiers by the fence stiffened, aiming their rifles. “This is ridiculous,” the ranting doctor said. He gestured to the sergeant, who stepped toward me as if to drag me away. So I used the only power I had.
“I said stop!” I shouted, and threw the sample vial I was holding at the ground.
The glass shattered instantly. The vaccine I’d spent so long trying to keep safe puddled on the asphalt. And everyone went still. The voices fell away. I placed one of my feet on top of the cooler, letting it dent the soft lid. My heel couldn’t break the remaining vial, not through the empty syringe case I’d secured it in, but no one else knew that.
“I don’t see any point in having a vaccine at all if we can’t even talk to each other for five seconds,” I said. “You’ve got problems with my suggestion, I’ll listen. To Michael and Dr. Guzman.”
I just needed one of them to agree. If one said yes, and the other resisted, I could threaten to hand the whole thing over to the first group, and I suspected the other would fall in line rather than risk losing all control
over the vaccine. And if only one was willing to compromise, well, then I’d know who deserved my faith.
A man near Michael lunged toward the gate, and Michael caught him by his shirt collar, jerking him back and smacking his revolver against the man’s temple.
“Stay where you are,” he growled. And then, to me, “You expect me to trust these government lackeys? You think the second they have any advantage, they won’t turn the tables on us?”
“I don’t think there’s much of a government left,” I said. “And I think if you’re both smart, no one’s going to get an advantage. You’re going to need each other. If you screw that up, well, that’s not my fault.”
“How are we supposed to trust them?” Dr. Guzman said. “If we have to combine what we’ve both produced—I mean, we aren’t just going to hand over what we have to them. And I’m guessing they’re not going to want to do the same with us.”
“Maybe you do an exchange,” I said. “They give you some of theirs, you give them some of yours, and you each make your own final product. Maybe you take turns—a little batch here, a little batch there, until you’ve proven to each other than you can handle this. I don’t know.”
“They’re never going to let it lie,” she said, shaking her head. “You haven’t seen—”
“You have no idea what I’ve seen,” I snapped, and paused to collect myself. “You could be right. They could try to overpower you, or you overpower them, so you can control the whole process. But I’m pretty sure that’ll just mean more people dying and more time lost while people out there are still getting infected. Is there anyone here who really wants that? Don’t you think having a vaccine at all is more important than being the only people who have it?”
Between them, there shouldn’t be a single person in the world who wouldn’t have access to the vaccine. Even if both groups kept to their own rules, anyone who’d broken too many laws to earn the CDC’s sympathy should be able to buy from Michael. And if one group did turn on the other, we’d deliver Dad’s notebooks to whoever had kept to the deal, and the playing field would be equal again. But I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
