Z 2135

by Wright, David W.

“If he hasn’t found help, then yes. Duncan’s is the first case I’ve seen, living a full productive life with the virus inside him, but if he’s been out of the serum for a while now, and hasn’t found someone to make it, the odds of him being the Duncan we know are slim.”

  Jonah held her gently at the wrist. “I know I can’t make you come. But I need you to come with me, Liza. To The Barrens. I’ll take you someplace safe, where you can finish your work, a place where they actually want to find a cure. Think about the possibilities of not having to look over your shoulder and actually figuring out a cure.”

  Liza looked bothered. “That does sound great. But why, or how, do they want me to help take down City 1? What expertise could I possibly have?”

  “He didn’t say,” Jonah said. “But I’m guessing they know something about your experiments.”

  “No,” Liza said firmly. “Nobody knows about my experiments.”

  “Maybe The State doesn’t, but I’m sure there are others who have helped you, others you trust. Hell, Duncan knew.”

  “Yes, but that circle is small. Very small.”

  “Sutherland has people in The Underground. He’s the closest thing to a leader outside The Walls.”

  Jonah considered telling her that Sutherland was in fact Weaver, the cult leader whose name she would have to recognize. But he didn’t want to confuse the issue. There would be time enough to explain, after they left City 6.

  “I still don’t understand how I can help him, though. I’m looking for a cure, not something to use against City 1.”

  “Maybe he thinks you know something that can help him and give his people some advantage. I don’t know.”

  “How am I supposed to just pack up and go if I don’t know what I’m agreeing to? You’re asking me to risk everything. If I leave now, there’s no way I can come back. You want me to follow you, and you don’t even know specifics? That doesn’t sound like you, Jonah.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right. I should have pressed for more details. I understand why he might not want to tip his hat to someone who was heading into enemy territory. I could’ve been captured, tortured, drugged to tell the truth, who knows. But this is too much to ask of you. I’m sorry.”

  He looked at her, pleading, “It’s my family, Liza. My daughter. All I wanted was to get here, do my job, and go back so I can see her. I’m hoping you’ll come with me to at least see what they want.”

  Liza met Jonah’s eyes, and he could tell she was thinking about it, but still needed a push. “I can’t leave my practice. There’s no one to help these people if I leave.”

  “They’ll assign another doctor.”

  “In a month, maybe. The other clinics won’t take transfers. People could die, Jonah.”

  “People could die if you stay. I know that’s harsh, but aren’t some things worth the risk? How risky was it for me to enter The City? I’m dead if spotted, but I came here instead of doing nothing while waiting for Ana to reach the camp. I came back to City 6 for two reasons: because I believe in Sutherland, and because I believe in you. Help us,” Jonah said, surprised to find himself fully in Sutherland’s corner, rooting for a man who promised to change their world. “You can do this.”

  Something in Liza’s eyes relaxed, and Jonah knew she would agree. She somehow got harder and softer at once. She straightened her posture, and the roll of her voice. “OK—I’ll come. I need the rest of the day to close shop, though, and I’ll have to ask someone to take care of the lab animals. How long do you think we’ll be gone, if I can somehow get back into The City without being missed?”

  “I don’t know,” Jonah said. “But you have to be prepared to never return. Do you have family or anyone you’d be hurting if you leave without notice?”

  She shook her head no.

  “OK. How long do you need, then?”

  “Meet me here tonight, after the clinic shifts to Dr. Berkley’s care. I’m not here tomorrow anyway, so that will give us a day and a half before anyone starts asking anything.”

  Jonah smiled and threw his arms around Liza. “I’m happy,” he said.

  Liza smiled. “Stay invisible, Jonah. Until you get back. I can’t take losing you again.”

  Jonah looked down, not able to meet her eyes. He wondered how she could feel so strongly about him after what he’d been accused of—after what he did to his wife. He had to assume that neither she nor any of his other Underground associates believed the accusations.

  He wondered how she’d feel about him if he told her the truth. That he finally remembered what he’d done.

  While Egan had told him that The State had used some kind of mind-control chip to manipulate him, to force him to kill his wife, it was still his hands that murdered her. And no matter how powerful The State’s ability to control him was, he should have been able to resist.

  He should have saved her from their agenda.

  He finally looked back up at Liza and saw not just compassion in her eyes, but also understanding. Some part of him wanted to confess everything, to get it all out in the open. But there wasn’t time for that now.

  Instead of confessing, he said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon. See you tonight.”

  He winked and left Liza’s office.

  Time to find Adam.

  CHAPTER 27 — ADAM LOVECRAFT

  Adam had never been to Keller’s apartment before. Even though they had been spending time together—the Chief had spent hours walking him to and from class, speaking to him on his personal com, and sending mail for Adam to check in with him once finished with his Academy day—he was still surprised to get the dinner invitation.

  Work was work, but home was home.

  The Chief lived in the high apartments, and his place was even bigger than Arnold Denny’s. The ceilings were high, the walls wide and white, sparse but for a few pictures of his son. His wife, Jacqueline, barely said a word, though she did smile a lot and made Adam feel like she was happy that they were together, sharing a meal.

  Before coming over, the Chief had asked Adam what he wanted for dinner, and said that he could pick anything—rations didn’t matter. Adam told him that he had once tried something called lasagna, and he thought it was the best thing he had ever eaten. Adam asked if he could have that. The Chief said, “Of course.” The scent was the first thing to hit Adam’s nostrils when Ms. Jacqueline opened the door.

  Adam had already finished thirds—the Chief must not have been kidding—rations really didn’t matter in the high apartments—and Ms. Jacqueline had already left the table when Adam finally gathered the courage to ask about his unexpected invitation.

  “Why did I invite you to my place?” the Chief repeated Adam’s query. “Well, because you deserve it, son!”

  “Why?” Adam asked, insistent as he thought of the many things he had started but not finished. He still didn’t know how to best help the Chief after his ride-along, and Keller had changed the subject the few times Adam had asked.

  The Chief laughed. “You are so modest … and yet, it isn’t even modesty. That’s just one of the things that makes you so special, Adam. You are well beyond your peers in all the ways that matter. You might not score the highest on aptitude, and might not be the fastest on field, but you are always strong where it matters most—living your life with honor and dignity, clinging to a better future despite the odds, and knowing that it’s always best to be alone if the choice is inferior company. You are a remarkable Cadet, Adam, and even if I’d not been hearing stories about you since before you could walk, I’d still be impressed with the Cadet you are, and the Watcher you’ll certainly be.”

  The Chief always did that, talked about everything in general terms, never saying exactly what he meant. Adam wanted to know what he was doing right and what he was doing wrong, because he wanted to know what he could be doing better.

  “Ah, I can see you’re looking for something more.” The Chief smiled at Adam, reading his mind as usual. “Very well. Why
don’t we start with yesterday: your walk home from the arcade, where you helped six on-duty officers apprehend a terrorist. Six officers and three hovers. Nine assets on the street and not one found the perp. That was you, and only you, Adam. Excellent job.”

  “But I didn’t do anything. The man ran by me, then I saw the Watchers searching in the wrong place, so I told them where to look. He was right across the street.”

  “You really don’t realize what it is that you do, do you?” The Chief asked with genuine wonder. The Chief slapped his hand on the table, shaking his head at the idea. “You see, so many of these Cadets act like tough guys, like they know everything, but it is your quiet confidence and your humility that makes you ideal Watcher material.”

  A shiver of pride went down Adam’s spine, and it was that that gave him confidence for his next question. “Who was he?” Adam asked. “The terrorist, I mean.”

  “Underground scum,” the Chief spat, as if ridding spoiled milk from his mouth. “The one you helped find had been brought into custody already, but managed to escape. We’re still not sure how; he must have had inside help. And that’s the insidiousness I’ve been speaking of, Adam. The cancer. Grabbing this man was a victory for City Watch, Adam. A big one, and we have you to thank for it.”

  “What did he do?”

  “It’s not what he did; it’s what he could have done, and what he was surely planning. The man was Underground, so his ill intent could be focused on anything: destroying City infrastructure, killing random citizens to cause unrest behind The Walls, blowing up a school filled with innocent children. You know The Underground, Adam—it is infested with weeds strangling all the good we’re doing here. But now, thanks to you,” he said, repeating those words throughout the dinner like a mantra, “we’ve yanked another weed by the root. If all goes well, this man will lead us to other rotten spots in our garden. Once found, we will stomp down their resistance and keep our City safe. One down and many protected. So when I say thank you on behalf of City Watch and The State, forget humble long enough to take your bow.”

  “You’re welcome,” Adam said. He wanted to ask about the dead people in the store, if they were terrorists too. But before he could bring it up, the Chief’s eyebrows were raised like he wanted to talk about something else.

  “Now,” Keller said, “tell me about your ride-along.”

  Adam had been waiting for the Chief to ask about the ride-along ever since he went, but now that he was sitting across from the Chief, in his house, Adam was having a hard time deciding which words were best to use.

  He could tell the Chief what happened, but wasn’t sure that was right. Adam could see where Fogerty and Carson were coming from. They seemed like good Watchers, trying to do their jobs. He didn’t want to get them in trouble.

  The Chief said, “Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “Everything was fine at first,” Adam started, nervously scratching his left palm. “We went into The Dark Quarters, which was scary like I always thought it would be, but even dirtier. There were a lot of people doing bad things in the streets like everyone always says, mostly selling stuff, including women.” Adam turned from the Chief, embarrassed. “We parked and walked for a block then went into this market where Fogerty and Carson met this big black guy; he looked like a giant. The guy gave Carson and Fogerty a tip about someone named Little Mitch and told them about a dead woman, then we went to this place called the Orient Hotel to question Little Mitch. We were in there for a while, and I had to sit in the corner while they questioned him, but Little Mitch didn’t want to talk, and wouldn’t no matter what.”

  Adam stopped for a second, thinking about what he should say next, and how to say it, still not wanting to get either Watcher in trouble. But Adam also didn’t want to disappoint the Chief, who was looking to him for the best possible information, counting on Adam to see what he couldn’t—things people did when the boss wasn’t looking.

  The Chief sat across from Adam, patiently smiling like always. Adam drew a breath.

  “They finally got Little Mitch to talk … but only after they started hitting him.”

  No surprise in his voice, the Chief said, “Which Watcher did the striking, Adam: was it Carson or Fogerty?”

  “Carson.”

  “Very well,” the Chief smiled. “Is that it?”

  Adam nodded. “Was that bad?” he asked. “Did the Watchers do the wrong thing?”

  “What do you think?” the Chief asked, leaning back in his chair, waiting for Adam to answer.

  “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I guess it’s good if they got what they needed to stop other bad stuff from happening. And that the man who killed the woman got justice.” Adam thought for a second, less certain over his next words, but thinking they seemed like something the Chief would want to hear. “It was in The Dark Quarters, so it probably matters less, doing that to someone there, I mean, than it would out here, right?”

  “Yes,” Keller nodded, “that is correct. But it isn’t just about The Dark Quarters, Adam. It’s about safety for us all. Realize: most things aren’t black and white, especially now, when our survival depends on us thriving here behind the Walls. I’m going to tell you something and I want you to listen carefully, Adam … violence is sometimes justified. Take The Underground scum you helped to apprehend. Do you think we should leave that man to rot in his cell, or do you think we should question him and discover what he knows and who he’s working with, digging deep so we can prevent the atrocities that he and his cohorts have planned? I mean, he’s not going to just tell us willingly, is he?”

  “No,” Adam said.

  “And City Watch is here to protect the citizens, right? Shouldn’t we make sure these terrorists are stopped before they kill random citizens?”

  “Yes,” Adam nodded.

  “The only way to stop these monsters is to find their den, burn the nest, and slay their masters. If we don’t do it, who will? Who will protect our citizens?”

  Adam thought, then shook his head, “Nobody,” he said firmly.

  “You will face this sort of situation constantly as a Watcher. Say you knew someone was going to do something awful. For instance, you know a man who regularly beats his wife is about to go too far; out of control, he’ll certainly kill her. If we wait for him to commit the crime, we’re too late and the poor woman is dead. But if we can stop it through intervention, isn’t that the right thing to do?”

  Of course it was.

  Adam nodded.

  “What if there were a simple sign to follow? What if you had a way to stop this horrible man before he committed his horrible crime? Would you stop something awful before it started, or wait until it was too late?”

  Adam would never want to wait until it was too late.

  But I did wait until it was too late.

  He felt suddenly guilty, awful. He felt sick as he put two and two together and realized he was at least partly responsible for what had happened to his mother. Adam should’ve seen the signs that his father would kill her.

  It’s all my fault.

  Trying not to cry, he said, “I would have done something, but I didn’t know! I couldn’t have known. I wasn’t a Cadet—I didn’t know how to see the signs!

  “I could have saved my mom!”

  The Chief leaned toward Adam, face relaxed and friendly. He set his hand on top of Adam’s. “Don’t feel bad, son, or blame yourself. Your father’s signs weren’t obvious. None of us saw them. Hell, I didn’t even see them. You can’t blame yourself or feel guilty. It isn’t your fault. But,” he leaned even closer, “don’t you think when you are able to see it, that you ought to do something?”

  “Yes.”

  “So don’t you think that Carson and Fogerty were doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing? What was best for The City?”

  Yes, it did seem that way … but Adam didn’t like all the gray that changed so many things between right and wrong. Like when the Chief told him to stic
k up for himself with Tommy and Morgan and Daniel, then gave him a weapon to teach them a lesson.

  “How do I know when doing bad things is right?”

  “That’s one of the things that’s great about you, Adam. The fact that you would even ask. I can’t pretend that City Watch is pure—we have our share of thugs, men who should probably be in The Games. But that’s not what we stand for. The fact that you’re asking all the right questions further proves I’ve been right about you all along. You have a strong moral center, and believe in the greater good, even if it means you must sometimes soil your fingertips to carry out an unfortunate but necessary decision.”

  The Chief’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Sometimes being good requires you to be around bad people. And maybe even sometimes be a little bad yourself. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Adam nodded.

  “That’s good,” the Chief said, leaning back in his chair. “Because I’d like for us to discuss your friend, Michael.”

  CHAPTER 28 — ANA LOVECRAFT

  Ana’s pain had mostly subsided. It was still there, but as an echo, dull and throbbing. She wondered if the dulling was a good sign, that maybe the infection had seeped into her body enough to become a part of it, rather than a disruption. That meant Ana was hours from turning, or her body was finally fighting the virus and staving infection. She might be safe for who-knew-how-long, like Duncan.

  Ana didn’t want to turn, but also loathed the thought of losing control unwittingly, being a liability. She mostly feared turning in her sleep and being a danger to Liam.

  It wasn’t fair.

  He should kill me.

  She wanted to beg him to kill her, but knew Liam would argue with her endlessly if she did.

  Even with the pain mostly faded, Ana’s thoughts were still muddy. Nothing made sense like it should. Good thoughts clashed with bad, and she had trouble stringing one event into the next. They left Paradise, found camp—the flight from Paradise to the tree was a blur—then woke in the morning to a Band below them. Liam managed to tow her to The Outback, and keep them alive long enough for Balon to send a miracle, but the memories were wavy and barely seemed real, Ana couldn’t be sure that some weren’t a dream.