I was surprised at how little I actually cared about their relationship, or any gossip or news out of The Necropolis, anymore. Since my last run-in with my old friends, I had spent most of my free time with mom and grandpa, the latter of whom didn’t leave his house much at that point. He already had a home nurse and, even though he could get up and walk around, usually chose not to.
The nurse was already there when we walked in one morning in August. She flipped through the few channels grandpa had. He sat in an armchair with his feet propped up, staring at the TV. He didn’t get up when we walked in but did turn his head.
“Georgia. McKenzie. Glad to see you guys.” His speech was slower, and I saw several plastic bottles half filled with fruit punch and water on the TV tray by the chair.
I bent to hug him. “Hi grandpa.”
“How are you feeling?” mom asked.
He nodded. “Just fine, just fine.”
Mom took his hand in hers but he didn’t say much and after a couple of minutes he was snoring softly. Mom, the nurse, and I all laughed softly.
“Has he been doing this a lot?” mom asked as soon as we stopped laughing.
“Mostly, yes,” the nurse said. “He hasn’t been eating as much but I have gotten him to drink a decent amount.”
They continued to talk medical things for awhile; I knew I should have listened since this was supposed to be my area of (eventual) expertise. But it was just too weird to hear all these terms I usually heard in school being applied to someone I knew. They didn’t notice when I slipped out of the room a few minutes later to use the bathroom.
When I went back through the kitchen the nurse was there alone, rinsing out glasses. “He’s awake now, if you want to talk to him. Though I think your mother is keeping him occupied.”
I nodded. I didn’t really care to go back to the living room and listen to mom force conversation about TV shows or school or God only knew what else. Instead, I began slinging the dishes dry and putting them up. It reminded me of the first time I'd met Gage so many months ago and helped him do dishes.
“So are you ready to go back to school?” she asked.
“Not really.” I took a towel and started to dry plates. “I’ve got three more years before I can get a degree. It seems endless.”
“Do you have any idea what you want to do with it? Maybe become a doctor?”
“That’s exactly what I want to do. I love helping people.”
“So do I. But McKenzie, has this experience with your grandfather...changed anything?”
I had expected this question, but not at that moment. “How do you do it?” I asked. “How do you take care of someone and know they’re just going to get sicker and sicker?”
“You don’t get attached. He’s your grandfather so you already know him, but I don’t. I have to do my job so the person you love will be comfortable.”
I noticed she didn’t say happy, well or even alive. I set down the plate I was holding and went back into the living room. I knew Mom and grandpa were watching some old game show, and grandpa looked like he was about to doze off again. They didn’t notice when I slipped something out of my purse and into my jacket pocket.
“Should I get grandpa some more water?” I asked.
Mom shook her head. “No honey, you don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t mind,” I said. “I don’t really feel like sitting back down anyway.”
She sighed. “All right, that’s fine. I don’t know if he’ll drink it right away though.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “He doesn’t have to.” So long as he drinks it eventually, I wanted to add, but didn’t.
I went back to the kitchen and took out a glass, filling it halfway full with water from the tap. “I’ll get the rest of these dishes,” I told the nurse.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. I kind of want to be alone anyway.” She went back to the living room and alone I was.
I took a hand towel and finished drying the dishes in record time. Once I was sure the nurse and mom weren’t going to come back through, I pulled the vial of TNV out of my jacket pocket.
The liquid glistened in the afternoon light coming in through the windows. I twisted it off and poured the remaining contents — I hadn’t taken any myself in several weeks — into the glass. Now it looked like nothing but a full glass of water.
I took it back out; grandpa was wide awake now, engrossed in the game show. I set the glass on his TV tray.
“Here you go, grandpa,” I said. “Drink up.”
I had to do.
chapter twenty
About a week after the TNV incident, I woke up and saw mom and Luke on the couch watching TV. They did this every morning, and every morning I joined them and tuned out the TV in favor of music or reading. But this morning mom motioned me over and said, “Come here, Kenzie. I think you’ll want to see this.”
The same blonde news anchor that had always been on the news was there again. She spoke with that annoyingly neutral accent that didn’t come from New York but from years of training it out of her.
“News out of The Necropolis this morning; yet another break-in. This is just one in a string of many burglaries that has plagued the city over the past year. As always, the burglars stole only a large supply of TNV. There are no suspects in the case so far, but police suspect it’s the work of an Immortal.”
They cut to an interview of a man named Emmett Osborn, an Immortal I didn’t know very well. He stood behind the front of his house like an ordinary citizen.
“I just don’t get it,” he said to the reporter. “ why would anyone who’s not Immortal want TNV? They just be prolonging a life of misery. No it has to be an Immortal.”
The report cut back to the studio and wrapped up. I thought back to my conversation with Jacey and Elizabeth when Jacey’s TNV has been stolen. They didn’t understand either why a non-Immortal would want TNV. But I had a feeling their perspectives would shift if they had a loved one they wanted to save.
Two weeks before school started we got a phone call. Grandpa had a kidney infection, among other things, and had been admitted to the hospital. Mom didn’t say much as we drove, but I could tell by her mannerisms and the way she talked to Luke in a hush, whispered voice that it wasn’t good. The home nurse was confused, mom said — grandpa had been slowly getting better and even walking some on his own. So why had his body started to fail him now?
I knew why, of course. I hadn’t given him any more TNV after that first incident. With a nurse around him almost constantly, I'd chickened out and didn’t want to risk getting caught.
Or had I? That’s what I told myself, but I knew the truth in the back of my mind: Grandpa was ready to go. He hadn’t taken TNV for years — at least not willingly — and probably wouldn’t have been happy to know I gave it to him against his will. As much as I wanted to keep them around, I had to respect his wishes.
I hate hospitals. Back when Luke was in college I went to visit him in his dorm a couple of times and the setup of the two places are similar: Bare, concrete walls, cold tile floors and food that looks like it came out of a processor. The food at least comes to you at a hospital...but then there’s that godawful smell of alcohol, like a doctor’s office times two hundred. And there’s always that one pesky nurse who orders you to wash your hands every time you so much as breathe too hard.
The room was dark and crowded as we walked in: Mom in front me, Luke in the back. Mom took my sweaty hand and led me through the crowd to the tiny bed. Grandpa was asleep but stirred and opened his eyes as I approached. A male nurse with a clipboard in hand stepped out of the way to let me stand.
Grandpa smiled weakly. “Kenzie,” he whispered. My entire family is fair skinned but he looked more pale than I’ve ever seen him, even up against the white bedsheets.
“Grandpa,” I said. “How are you feeling?”
“Just...peachy.” He laughed softly and coughed loudly. I winced. He could barely
move his hand to cover his mouth.
“You don’t have to talk,” I said. I stood there for several minutes with my hand in his while the noise in the room escalated. Everyone else was paying attention to their own conversations, telling someone how well a math test went or what co-worker was irritating them that week. Finally, grandpa was snoring, his hands and feet relaxed outward lazily.
The nurse turned away from his clipboard. “You’re lucky,” he said. “He hasn’t talked to anyone else all morning.”
A minute later, mom grabbed my hand and led me away. We didn’t speak as we took a seat on the leather couch squished up beside the bed, but she put her arm around me and squeezed my shoulders. She kissed my forehead and I lay my head on her shoulder.
twenty-one
Two hours later we were back at the house. Mom cooked pork chops for dinner and I ate mine slowly. After dinner I sat in front of the TV; the news was on, as it usually was, but I wasn’t listening or even registering what was happening.
Luke sat beside me. “Are you watching this?”
I looked up. “Huh? No, I’m not.”
He wiggled his fingers. “Then hand over the remote. My show is on.”
I glanced at the couch but couldn’t see the tiny remote. Luke reached across me to fetch it from the middle seat. I had no desire to watch one of his dumb crime shows, but there wasn’t much else I felt like doing.
Luckily he didn’t change the channel right away. “Want to talk?” he asked.
I shook my head but started talking anyway. “I don’t get it Luke.”
“Don’t get what?”
“Why did grandpa leave?”
“You mean The Immortals?”
“Yeah. I guess it had to have had something to do with dad. But since he...since he died, don’t you think he would have wanted to stay? So he wouldn’t have to die too?”
“Kenzie, I know you’re upset. We all are. But grandpa was 78 and lived a full life. He didn’t want to live forever, especially with his only son gone. He’d have to watch everyone he loved die eventually — and since this was before you were Immortal, that included you. He knew that death is a part of life. That’s why I never wanted to join.”
“I thought it was because you weren’t offered a spot.”
He laughed. “I wasn’t. But sometimes my friends offer me TNV. They have enough between all of them to make the whole freaking world Immortal.”
“Luke,” I said, “What do you think grandpa would do if someone gave him TNV after he left The Immortals?”
He snickered.
“What’s so funny?” I said.
“Kenzie, I’m not dumb. I know you spiked his water with the stuff.”
“Wait...how did you know?”
“Because I know you. And it did help, for a little while.”
“I know, but I had to stop. I knew he’d freak out if he realized what I’d done. I had to respect his wishes — even though it was really, really hard.”
Luke put his feet up. “Kenzie let me ask you something. What do you remember about life before the collapse?”
“I remember...having money. Never having to worry about anything. Everything was sort of...”
“Picture perfect?” he finished for me. “You were so young back then. You couldn’t remember mom and dad fighting.”
“What? You mean, before the collapse?”
“They fought like crazy before the collapse, Kenzie. You don’t remember it because you were too little or because you don’t want to remember it. I guess it was no more than most married couples fight, but they did. Life wasn’t a bed of roses.” He snickered. “One of grandpa’s old sayings.”
“What did they fight about? Surely not money.”
“Oh yeah, they fought over money. But that wasn’t all. I think mom wasn’t happy because dad was gone for so long. He was in Washington a lot and he flew in when he could. But a lot of the time it was just her and sometimes grandpa and grandma here, raising all of us. And even grandpa stopped coming for awhile after grandma died. They got through it, of course, and they loved each other. But having lots of money didn’t make everything perfect.”
Of course. How could I have forgotten that? I remembered dad’s presents coming in at a constant flow more than I did his actual...well, presence.
Luke squeezed my shoulder. “Do you know about a man named Jerome Glen?”
It took me a minute to remember where I’d heard the name. He was the man who had sold his car to Niles, who in turn had given it to Matt. The man who had lost his wife in a bizarre cliff diving accident, one of the few incidents where an injury was so quick and damaging that not even TNV could cure it. His wife’s death was the only reason I had been able to join The Immortals. Nobody would have admitted that, of course, but it was blatantly obvious — she had died just a few months before my name was submitted. It was the first time I’d ever admitted it to myself.
“Yeah I know who he is.”
“He died last week. Put a pistol in his mouth.”
“What?”
“Yeah, it was on the news. You must not have been in here. Ever hear that old saying ‘money can’t buy happiness’? It’s true — money can’t buy a whole lot. It can’t even buy eternal life. There are no guarantees, Kenzie.”
“Do you think that was it? After dad died, did grandpa realize that money can’t solve all your problems?”
“Kenzie, there’s a lot more to it than that. You miss dad, don’t you? And even though you always said you didn’t want to be Immortal, you joined right away when you were offered, didn’t even give it a second thought, because you didn’t want to put us through the same thing. Didn’t want anyone to have to grieve for you that way. Yeah, you would have had to watch us all die. Me, mom, all your friends. But you would have to suffer through it. Not us.”
I shook my head, even though it was true. “I couldn’t believe it when grandpa left right after dad died. I felt like he was giving up.” It was the first time I had said it out loud.
“I don’t think he saw it that way. Grandpa wasn’t as well off as us growing up, you know. He knows what it’s like to have everything, but he also knows what it’s like to have nothing.”
“But even when he wasn’t Immortal he had something. He had us.”
Luke grinned again. “I think that top notch education is finally rubbing off on you.”
twenty-two
I’ve only been back to The Necropolis once since the Feed the Needy event. Well, technically twice, but both visits were on the same day.
The first was prompted by an invitation from Corrina Girard, who just couldn’t believe that another Immortal had left. She said she’d buy me lunch if I’d give her some insight – off the record, of course – about why I had done what I’d done.
We met in the same restaurant the Immortal girl had brought me to when I saved her dog. I wouldn’t be getting pizza with my fancy napkin, though; now that I was no longer Immortal, I felt the need to eat healthier. Mom and even grandpa insisted that was ridiculous, that I was young and should enjoy the fast metabolism while I could. But when I ate too much junk food I felt gross, and wanted to feel my best during this lunch – although I probably could’ve convinced the waiter to give me alcohol so it at least wouldn’t be unbearable.
Corrina was already seated when I walked in, and excitedly waved me over. “McKenzie! She stood up and hugged me tight, like we were old friends. I couldn’t breathe for a second, but tried to return the hug.
She finally released me and sat down. “How have you been?”
“Um, okay. I just started senior year.”
“Oh, that’s great!” There was an awkward pause where she smiled a little too big before saying, “I’m sorry. I’m used to talking to Immortals, and I don’t have to ask them anything else. What do you want to…do after high school?”
In truth, I wasn’t used to being asked that question either. “Oh, um…go to college and study biology. Then med school.”
Corrina didn’t exactly look disappointed, but she did look stunned. “Well…that’s great! How’s your grandfather?”
“Oh…not that good. They gave him four to six weeks.”
“Oh Kenzie, I’m sorry. I can’t believe we’re losing the legendary Dr. Fred Palmer. I’d love to come to the funeral — not as a reporter, just as a friend.”
I smiled. “We’d like that.”
She shifted in her seat. “So…the reason I asked you here today is, frankly, to as you some questions I’ve never had to ask anyone. Nobody’s been asked these questions before except your grandfather, and I was too young when he left to interview him. So I’m asking you now. Kenzie…why did you leave?
I’d gone over potential answers in my mind, of course, thought about the most diplomatic answer. But I decided on the most blunt.
“Because it’s corrupt,” I said. “The whole system is terrible. I didn’t want to be a part of it anymore.”
“But Kenzie…it’s corrupt in your favor. Why didn’t you keep taking advantage of it?”
“I did at first. I accepted the invitation in, even though I didn’t feel right about it. It never felt right. It was fun, of course, and I convinced myself that I should stay. But that didn’t last long. I thought about leaving a couple months in, but then…”
“You met Gage,” she finished for me. “Kenzie, are you sure none of this had to do with him?”
“What? No. Well, sort of. I stayed longer than I wanted to because of him. But after awhile, I couldn’t stand it any longer. The guilt was eating away at me. I wanted us to stay together, but it’s hard, you know?”
“Dating an Immortal when you’re not one? I’m sure it is. I don’t think it’s ever been done before, at least not long term.”
“I miss him,” I said. “But it was worth it. It’s so much better this way.”
Corrina’s phone rang, sharp and loud. There weren’t many people in the restaurant — lunch hour was almost over — and that made it seem even louder. Corrina looked down at it, frowned, and said, “Sorry, I have to take this.” She left the table and headed out of view, leaving me alone.
The Immortals Page 12
