by Kathy Reichs
“We need to keep it that way.”
“What about Chance and Hannah?”
“I don’t think they’ll figure it out,” I said. “Things happened way too fast down in that cellar. And if they accuse us of having magic powers, everyone will think they’re crazy.”
“I hope so,” Hi said. “I don’t relish the thought of being dissected like a lab rat. If people learn what we’re able to do—”
“We won’t tell anyone,” I said. “Ever. Even our parents.”
“Agreed.” Hi glanced back at the manor. “You ready to face the music?”
“What music?”
Hi snorted. “I forgot that you’ve been out cold. Our parents have landed. They’re at the front gate.”
My groan spoke volumes.
“Tory!” Kit ran up the driveway. “Are you okay!?” I was crushed in an unexpected bear hug.
“Fine,” I said. “But I’ve got some things to explain.”
Shelton and Ben stood nearby, talking with their parents. Ben did an eye roll over his father’s shoulder. Shelton waved, grinning from ear to ear. Everyone safe and accounted for.
“Why did you break into Claybourne Manor?” Kit asked. “Who is that man in handcuffs? What the hell is going on?”
“I’ll tell you everything, Kit, I promise.” I took a deep breath. “But you should know that Dr. Karsten was murdered.”
“Dr. Marcus Karsten? Murdered?” Kit sounded shocked. “Wait, how do you know this?”
“We were telling the truth. We found Katherine Heaton’s bones. That man”—I pointed at Baravetto, locked in a squad car—“and Chance Claybourne stole her skeleton from our dig site on Loggerhead.”
“Why?”
“Because Hollis Claybourne killed her back in 1969.”
Kit stared, dumbfounded.
I pressed forward.
“Karsten followed us to Morris a few nights ago, to confront us about the lab break-in. He still thought we’d done it.”
Kit frowned.
“But Karsten saved us,” I said quickly. “The man in that squad car tried to kill us, to bury the truth about Katherine forever. Karsten died so that we could escape.”
“Who is the young lady they arrested?” Kit asked.
“Chance’s girlfriend, Hannah Wythe,” I said. “She orchestrated the attack when Karsten was murdered. She tried to kill us tonight, but accidentally shot Chance instead. He’s okay, I’m told.”
Kit didn’t speak for several moments. Finally, “I don’t understand.”
I groaned. “I’ll tell you everything, I promise, but not right now. I’ve been chased, fired at, and forced to knock two people unconscious. I’m beat.”
“Okay.” I could see hundreds of questions working in his eyes, but he held back. “The detective says I can take you home, but we have to make a statement at the station later this morning. You kids have caused a serious mess.”
Kit was right.
Parked on the street were four ambulances, a dozen police cars, even a fire truck. Several news vans had already arrived on scene.
Quite the scandal for Claybourne Manor.
Walking down the drive, I spotted a familiar figure sitting on an ambulance gurney. Chance, gazing into space.
“Kit, wait one sec.”
I walked up beside Chance.
“Hey,” I said gently. “It’s me, Tory.”
Chance didn’t move, didn’t blink.
“You’re a real bastard,” I said. “But you tried to save my life. For what it’s worth, thanks.”
Chance’s eyes remained blank, his face slack.
Shaking my head, I rejoined Kit on the driveway.
Crickets floated their chorale best out onto the warm Charleston night. High above, a dove cooed softly.
I yawned.
Time to go home.
EPILOGUE
The sun blazed down from the top of its arc as Ben anchored Sewee off Turtle Beach. I popped over the side, anxious to get wet.
A light breeze tussled my hair. The smells of sand and salt blended with those of myrtle and palmetto.
We’d come back to Loggerhead Island.
I’d been grounded for two weeks, and it felt glorious to be out of the house. Confessing to a half dozen B and E’s had been enough for Kit to put me on lockdown. And I still hadn’t told him everything.
The news coverage had been entertaining. Hollis Claybourne was collared on the State House steps, charged with the murders of Katherine Heaton and Marcus Karsten and a zillion other crimes.
Hannah and Baravetto were each charged with Karsten’s murder, along with four counts of attempted murder. Baravetto’s nephew, Claybourne’s other henchman, had also been arrested. Rumor had it that Hannah would flip and testify against her partners in crime.
Karsten’s body remained missing. According to Hannah, Hollis had dumped him at sea. His car was found in the long-term parking lot at the Charleston airport. One of the three must have driven it there from Morris Island on the night of his death.
Chance was charged with desecration of human remains and obstruction of justice, but avoided anything more serious.
In his case, the district attorney would have to be patient. Chance remained catatonic. No one knew if he’d ever leave the psychiatric hospital to which he’d been committed.
Splashing toward land, I drank in the view. I’ve said it before: Turtle Beach is the best in the world. I wiggled sand between my toes, trailed my arms through the cooling water, loving the old Palmetto state.
We’d already made one stop that day. Earlier in the week DNA had confirmed that the skeleton was indeed Katherine Heaton. That morning her bones were buried at Holy Cross Cemetery.
It had been a lonely little gathering. An ancient priest. Detective Borken. Sylvia Briggerman, accompanied by a nurse. Abby Quimby. Some parents from Morris Island. And, of course, the Virals.
I’d strung Francis Heaton’s dog tags on a new chain, and placed them inside the coffin.
Rest in peace, Katherine.
“Tory!” Hi hollered from the boat. “Help with this mongrel!”
Hi was trying to coax Cooper over the side but failing badly. The fifty-pound puppy wasn’t anxious to get wet.
Laughing, I splashed back to Sewee. Coop whined, but allowed me to lift him. Even licked my face.
“Come on, boy.”
I carried the pup several yards, then planted his paws knee-deep in the surf. He yelped, scampered to the beach, and shook like mad. Water flew from his fur. Then, nose raised, ears flat, he disappeared into the brush.
When we’d all gathered on shore, we looked around. No sign of the wolfdog.
“I guess that’s that.” Shelton looked disappointed. “The little ingrate didn’t even look back.”
A cacophony of barks erupted in the bushes. Four animals exploded into view, rolling and jumping in a giant ball. One wolf. One German shepherd. Two wolfdogs. Four tails wagged like excited signal flags.
Suddenly, Whisper’s eyes locked on us. Fur bristling, she snarled and stepped in front of her cub.
Ben backed into the waves. “Whoa. That doesn’t sound like a welcome.”
“So this is how it ends.” Hi, king of drama. “Mauled to death by an angry wolf mother. Great plan, Tory.”
As we stood frozen, Coop nipped his mother’s flank. Whisper glanced down. Coop barked, then slipped by her and padded over to me.
Whisper tensed, but didn’t interfere.
I dropped to a knee. Coop placed his forepaws on my shoulders and licked my cheek. I nuzzled his head with my face.
Whisper sat. Cocked her head. Raised her ears.
I sighed in relief. Coop had vouched for his two-legged companions. Mama appeared skeptical, but accepting.
I smiled, happy but sad. “Time to be with your family, little guy.”
Coop barked, danced a circle, then fired back to the pack. The canines slipped into the woods and were gone.
We lingered a
while, hoping for a return appearance. No such luck. Still, I didn’t want to leave.
“He’s better off out here,” Ben said. “Plenty of space, no one to hassle him. He’ll be happy.”
I nodded, but couldn’t shake the melancholy. I would rarely see Coop in the future. He might forget me.
“Ready to go?” Hi said. “I’m still grounded. I had to beg for a special exemption to make this trip.”
“Ready.” Not really.
Leaves swished, then Coop burst from the foliage, the rest of the family close on his heels. Without hesitation, he trotted over and sat at my feet.
Bark! Bark!
“Okay, buddy.” I rubbed his head. “Your mama’s in charge now.” I gently pushed him back toward the pack.
The pup darted past me and started wading out towards the boat. I sloshed forward to catch him.
“Cooper!” I circled an arm around his neck and knelt in the water. “What are you doing, boy? Don’t you want to go with your family?”
Face lick. Then he slipped my embrace, bounded through the surf, and started paddling toward the boat.
“What’s he doing?” Hi asked. “Swimming to England?”
I glanced toward shore.
Coop’s family waited by the tree line. As I watched, Whisper stood and barked sharply.
I looked over my shoulder. Coop was still paddling toward Sewee.
I made a decision. Kit would just have to live with it.
“Help him into the boat,” I said. “Coop’s made his choice. He’s part of our pack now.”
Ben and Hi hauled the soaked puppy over the gunwale. He shook, spraying everyone with salt water.
I jumped aboard and pulled Coop’s small wet body to me. On shore, Whisper and her family melted into the forest.
“Is that what we are?” Shelton smiled. “A pack?”
“Of course,” Hi said. “A pack with superpowers. And a dark secret.”
“Tory can order me around inside my head,” Ben said. “If that doesn’t make us close, I don’t know what does.”
“We are a pack.” I ruffled Coop’s fur. “We’re bound by our mangled DNA.”
“We’re Virals.” Hi held out his hand. “Family.”
“Virals.” Shelton’s hand covered Hi’s.
“Virals.” Ben’s hand joined the others.
“Virals.” My hand topped the stack.
I grinned, then yelled into the wind.
“And God help anyone who messes with the Virals!”
The others howled in agreement.
So did Coop.
Acknowledgements
First and foremost I would like to thank my son Brendan, without whom Virals would not have been possible. Thanks for all your hard work. I would also like to thank my tireless agent Jennifer Rudolph Walsh, and the entire staff at William Morris Endeavor Entertainment, for encouraging me to follow through with this project. I am grateful to Don Weisberg at Penguin and to Susan Sandon at Random House UK for believing in Virals from the beginning. Finally, a hearty thanks to Ben Schrank and Jessica Rothenberg at Razorbill for helping me navigate the new challenge of writing young adult fiction. I appreciate you all!
RAZORBILL
Published by the Penguin Group
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Copyright © 2010 Kathy Reichs
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