The entire evening had been filled with so much of the same that Adam wondered if perhaps they were purposely not talking about more important things because they were in the presence of a Watcher Cadet.
He suddenly got a chill, like something was wrong.
Adam looked around, at all the people in masks, trying to figure out the source of his discomfort.
He had a horrible thought: It would be just like the Chief to initiate an unscheduled sweep of The Edge, to ferret out insidious, cancerous cells and destroy them.
“We shouldn’t be here,” Adam whispered to Michael.
Michael said, “We’ll be fine. Don’t worry, just listen.”
But Adam had been listening for a while, and no one was really saying anything new. They were exchanging large ideas, not actual plans. If the Chief asked Adam what he had heard, he wouldn’t have been able to tell Keller anything that didn’t sound like a generic quote from a random Reel on any given day. If Adam had to be in an Underground meeting, he wanted to leave with something.
“Why do you fight?” Adam asked, leaning forward in his chair. “There’s no way that anyone can ever win against The State. Aren’t you wasting your life by trying?”
A loud man sitting at the farthest part of the basement’s circle called out, “No! You waste your life by giving up!”
“Why is being good giving up?” Adam looked around; almost everyone sitting in the circle was looking back at him from behind their anonymous masks. “What makes it so bad in The City? Don’t you have everything you need?”
A soft-spoken man near the center said, “We have exactly enough to keep us sucking the tit. Never a drop more than that.”
A young woman laughed coldly from a few masks beside Adam. “Have you ever been to The Dark Quarters?”
“Yes,” he said. “I went there last week with City Watch. It was on a ride-along—that meant I was with two Watchers. I saw lots of stuff.”
Erin said, “And what did you think?”
“It was awful, of course,” Adam said. “But maybe you’re seeing things the wrong way. Think about the whole City, not just The Quarters. We all have to stay safe behind The Walls, right? People having the hardest time are usually the most violent. The Dark Quarters keeps those people together in one place so that everyone else can stay safe. Doesn’t that make sense? Most people don’t find themselves in The Quarters by accident—what if places like that are necessary to keep everyone safe.”
Like the Chief, Adam asked, “Would you rather have a small family where everyone was fed, or a large one where everyone starved?”
Groaning and laugher rippled through the circle.
A man yelled, “Why’d you bring the junior Whitewasher, Michael? What were you thinking?”
A woman agreed. “Get the Whitewasher out of here, and don’t bring him back. Our meetings are for people who know how to open their eyes!”
Belly cleared his throat and said, “Let the kid speak. There was a time when everyone in this room was living in the dark. Lovecraft’s had some hard months. Cut the boy some slack—he deserves it by association, and every one of you knows it. Not his fault he’s living with Watchers. You’d do the same for a meal in his shoes, once your belly got to rumbling.” He laughed, patted his own large stomach, then looked at Adam. “The floor’s yours, kid. Don’t waste it.”
“I’m not a Whitewasher,” Adam said, feeling defensive. “I’m just like you all. I’ve lost a lot, maybe as much as anyone. My dad was exiled, and so was my sister. I always want to do the right thing. I came here today because Michael asked me to. He said if I came here tonight, I’d see the truth. But I haven’t heard anything except ‘The Underground is good and The State is bad.’ Sad stuff, yes. But I’m not hearing anything that convinces me that The State is some sort of evil overlord controlling our lives.”
“It is evil,” a woman said from behind her mask.
“And how do you know that?” Adam asked.
“We just do,” said someone else.
Words exploded from Adam’s mouth. “But how? Tell me something that can’t be called the wrong place at the wrong time, or a streak of bad luck. City Watch isn’t evil. I’ve spent enough time with the Watchers to know that they’re trying to protect you all. Trying to keep you safe.”
“Not evil?” said a smaller voice directly across from Adam. The girl, the one who looked to be around 10, stood and pulled off her pink-and-purple mask. She wasn’t 10. She was maybe eight, or nine. Her eyes were a new kind of sad for Adam.
“My dad wasn’t even in The Underground, but he was nice and cared about everyone, so he gave some of his food rations to someone in The Underground who needed them. City Watch came and snatched my dad away. He’s been gone for a month now, and we haven’t heard a thing. He’ll probably be in the next Games, or maybe the ones after that. But we know we’ll probably never see him again, unless he’s running from zombies in The Games. My mom and sister and brother, we’re barely surviving. Because Dad was an ‘enemy of The State,’ we’re not even entitled to death rations. Chimney Rock has offered to take us kids, but only because they want the three per diems. Mom doesn’t know if she can fight the order since we were barely making it with Dad bringing home what he did.”
A man in a black mask asked, “Is that the fucking government looking out for us, Whitewasher?”
Adam felt awful for so many reasons, and wanted to leave. He stood, nodded to the room so they could see his manners, then turned from the circle and went to the door. Someone yelled from behind as he opened it.
“He better not rat us out!”
The door slammed, then swung back open and Michael came out a step behind Adam.
“You’re not gonna rat us out are you?”
Adam stared at Michael, insulted. “No, I’m not. But thanks for trusting me.”
Michael stared at Adam in silent apology.
Adam turned and left Michael standing.
“Wait, I’ll get you a ride,” Michael said.
“I’d rather walk,” Adam said, needing time to think, time away from these people.
Time to decide what he could possibly say to Keller.
CHAPTER 36 — JONAH LOVECRAFT
They reached Hydrangea, and Katrina brought them to meet Sutherland in the same room where the leader and Jonah had first met. Sutherland barked laughter on sight, elated to see them.
“Welcome,” he bellowed. “It’s so good to see you. Dr. Liza Goelle,” he bounded to her side. “I’m honored you came. I’ve heard so much about you; really, I couldn’t be happier that you’re here.”
“I wasn’t aware that my work was being followed.” Liza took a step back. Jonah thought she seemed suspicious.
“Relax,” Sutherland soothed Liza with a smile. “Your discomfort is natural, but I’m not a Peeping Tom. I search high and low for people who can change the world, and … those who can keep it from changing.”
Liza seemed equally curious and uncomfortable. She shifted on her feet, holding Sutherland’s stare, as if turning away meant losing power she couldn’t surrender.
Sutherland asked, “Is it true? That you are close to developing a cure, I mean?”
Jonah could hear Liza in his head, demanding to know how someone in The Barrens had intimate details about work she’d kept buried. Still holding his stare she said, “Yes.”
Sutherland scratched his chin scruff and narrowed his eyes. “How close are you?”
“Well, I’ve no idea really,” she said. “Just guesses. We’ve had some success in stalling the virus, and we’ve even partially reversed its damage in a few animal subjects. But cure? I can’t say. The virus has mutated so much from the original that decimated our people.”
“So what’s stopping the cure?”
Sutherland asked Liza as if curing the zombie virus, whatever its true name, was as simple as pouring milk into cereal.
“A lack of subjects, funding, staff—there’s no shortage of issues. The bigge
st being that all of my research has to be done in secrecy, which, if you knew about it, I guess wasn’t so secret after all. Getting freshly infected subjects has been next to impossible.”
She paused, looked at Jonah, then continued.
“I had one human patient,” she said. “He was infected but managed to keep from turning for two years. Unfortunately, I’ve not heard from the patient in a while.”
She glanced over at Jonah again. He felt grateful for her eyes, and said he was sorry with his.
“Oh, that’s quite unfortunate,” Sutherland said, looking disappointed. “What is fortunate though is that I think you’ll find that what you’ve lost by leaving City 6 will be more than made up for here. You can continue your research in our lab, which is state of the art and I’m sure better than anything you have access to at Clinic 17.” He smiled. “Hydrangea scientists are here to help you and fully at your disposal, especially Dr. Oswald, who is eager to meet you. Here, your research isn’t a secret; it’s a godsend. Experiment in the open; loudly celebrate your victories.”
Liza looked almost happy, but Jonah could see she wasn’t letting her guard down either. Sutherland laughed again, clapping his large hands.
“Yes, Dr. Goelle, this is meant to be. Someone like you belongs here, with people like us. You’ll have patients to work with, people who’ve been infected and are desperate for your help. We find a lot of newly infected in The Barrens, and they aren’t exactly picky.”
Liza stuttered through a few seconds, seemingly unsure of what she should say. Finally she cleared her throat. “I’ll need some supplies, some of which might be hard to get, especially out here. Shall I make a list? Who should I give the list to?”
Even uncertain, Liza seemed ready for whatever it was she’d be doing.
“Not to worry about any of that,” Sutherland pawed the air. “As I said, our lab’s state of the art. I’m sure we have everything you need already. If not,” he grinned, “I think you’ll find that supplies are often easier to get out here in The Barrens than behind your Walls.”
“The Walls aren’t mine,” Liza said tartly. “When can I see the lab?”
Even with only the side of her face visible, Jonah could see that something about Liza had changed. She was a passionate woman, full of ideas and an always-whirring brain. But Jonah didn’t understand science well enough to participate in her world, so her work was always something she did, rather than something they shared. Still, he could see the thrill of promised experimentation coloring her cheeks and brightening her eyes.
“Well, there’s no reason not to take you there now,” Sutherland said.
Sutherland turned from Liza and Jonah, then went to the door and stepped from the room, expecting them to follow. A few minutes and four corridors later, they stood outside a wide metal door. Sutherland turned toward them, winked at Jonah, smiled at Liza, then said, “I expect that Oswald’s inside. I should probably warn you, our lead scientist is a bit … odd.”
Before Liza could ask what Sutherland meant, his fingers danced on the wall’s black keypad and the metal door hissed open. Sutherland stepped inside the lab. Liza followed, then Jonah.
The man who had to be Oswald looked up as they entered the room. He had been hunched over, examining something on his exposed torso. He turned and looked at them, putting down a small screwdriver.
Liza, like Jonah, seemed to be swallowing her gasp. The scientist’s bare chest seemed neatly divided into three parts: human, zombie, and metal. Liza stared in awe, then ran up to Oswald and started running her hands all over his body, mostly on the metal, as if he were a display.
Her hand on Oswald’s metal shoulder, she said, “Was this to cut infection?”
He smiled. The corners of his mouth were heavily damaged and cracked, wrinkled like a zombie. “Yes, the infection spread fast, but it’s now equalized. Any damaged body parts that could be replaced were swapped with bionics.”
Still brushing her fingers against Oswald’s shoulders, Liza whispered, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“That’s because there isn’t anything like it,” Sutherland said, circling the lab with his hands spread in the air. “Welcome to Hydrangea!”
He stepped behind Oswald and clapped the scientist on his fleshy back. “Oswald will give you a tour of the lab, answer any questions you have, then show you to your room. It’s over there,” Sutherland pointed to the far wall, made of glass. Jonah assumed there were dorms behind it.
“In the meantime, if you don’t mind, I’d like to borrow Jonah for a moment,” Sutherland said.
Liza looked at Jonah and smiled; the most beautiful smile he’d seen in half a year.
Jonah asked, “Are you good?”
“Yes, Jonah. Thanks. I’ll be great.”
Sutherland took that as his cue and led Jonah from the lab.
Sutherland said, “It looks like we still have another four days before Anastasia’s arrival. Before your daughter gets here, there’s one more thing we need you to do.”
Jonah’s heart sped up. He didn’t care for the unexpected—the only thing Sutherland seemed to traffic in. Jonah had an awful feeling that whatever Hydrangea’s leader was about to say, he wouldn’t like it.
“I need you to go to City 1 and deliver a package.”
“No.”
His refusal was simple, and fell right from his mouth. Sutherland was quiet as they walked, but his silence was heavy and had Jonah squirming beneath it.
Jonah and Ana were only days from their reunion; he wasn’t risking his life—after he already had—to do anything more before he saw her. Jonah had gone above and beyond the call of duty. He didn’t owe Sutherland, Katrina, or Hydrangea anything else.
Finally, Jonah added, “I can’t. I have to wait for Ana. I can’t go to City 1, or anywhere else. Not for anything, at least not until I see her.”
Jonah had no idea why he would be needed in City 1, but didn’t care. He wasn’t going.
“I understand what you’re saying,” Sutherland said. “But it doesn’t matter. You’re the only one who can do this, which means you must. Not to be overly dramatic, Jonah, but the future of our world depends on it.”
Asshole.
Jonah hated feeling obligated, and loathed what he knew Sutherland was doing to manipulate him.
“It’s simple,” he said. “And really, there’s no danger to speak of. We could send anyone, and would, if the mission wasn’t, in effect, coded to you.”
“What do you mean?” Jonah cursed himself for letting the question leave his mouth, hated how smoothly he was already falling into Sutherland’s too familiar line of bullshit.
“You’re the last person to get a fake ID chip,” he said, pointing to Jonah’s wrist. “Unfortunately, we can’t get another because I just got word that Marquis has gone into hiding. It doesn’t happen often, but when that man dips low he means it, and he’ll be down for a while.”
“But what’s so goddamn important that it has to be delivered now?”
Sutherland stopped to look directly at Jonah. “The package is a poison. A special delivery for Jack Geralt.”
“And you think I’m going to walk into City 1 and hand Jack Fucking Geralt poison?” Jonah was almost shouting. “What then? Pour it into a decanter and serve it with fucking cheese and crackers?”
“No,” Sutherland said in a calm voice. “You won’t need to. We have a courier. You need only get it to her—she will do the rest. Then you leave City 1, nothing to it. This is easy, Jonah. Simple. There’s no reason to say no.”
Even easy, Jonah didn’t like it.
“And what happens if I say no?”
“Well,” Sutherland said, “nothing, really. You can retire to your quarters. Eat well, drink well, sleep well. Enjoy the company of a woman or two—I don’t care what you’re doing if not your duty. But Hydrangea will certainly buzz with news of what you didn’t do when you could and should have. I’m not sure you’ll want your daughter to arrive her
e with that sort of chatter burning in the background—at least not when there’s such a glowing alternative.”
“I never cared much for what others thought of me.”
“I know,” Sutherland said. “And I admire that about you, I truly do. But I also know you care about your daughter. And you care about Katrina, right? She went out and found you, made it possible for you to see Ana again. Don’t you want to help take revenge against the monster that hurt her?”
Jonah said nothing.
Since the carrot hadn’t moved Jonah, Sutherland seemed to decide he needed to show the stick. “We’ve spent a lot of time and effort creating a safe haven here and in our other villages. A place where people like Ana can live in relative safety from the horrors of The Barrens. Don’t you want that for your child? A place she doesn’t have to worry about bandits, zombies, and hell, even finding food or a doctor? But as a veteran Watcher, you realize that safety has a cost, and someone must pay for it. We all do our part here. Today, I am asking you to simply do yours. You’re free to say no, but there’s no way I can allow you and your family to stay if you refuse to help us preserve what we’ve built. My leadership would be questioned, and chaos would erupt among the citizens. I can’t allow that, Jonah. So I don’t want to say ‘do this or else,’ but you’ve given me no choice.”
Jonah sniggered, “Let’s not fool ourselves here. This isn’t a one-time request. There’s always going to be just one more thing you need me to do.”
Sutherland smiled, “You’re too smart a man to know I won’t make other requests, Jonah. We’re in a war, and until we bring Geralt and his corrupt system down, some of us will have to make more sacrifices than others. But what father wouldn’t sacrifice everything for the safety of his children?”
Jonah swallowed the distaste of being so clearly manipulated, and asked, “How long will it take to get there? City 1 is at least a week away, right?”
“We have alternative transportation, provided you’re not afraid of heights.”
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