by Casey Hays
I nod, my breath easing out of my lungs in one long sigh of relief. Step one complete.
The Rovers are silent, crowded together in the tunnel. Jace takes the lead, and we trudge cautiously and quietly forward and into the labyrinth—Justin and I at the rear. Unlike the one and only time I was lost in this maze, Jace knows exactly where he’s going, and in no time, we’ve reached the entrance that will take us into the main reading room of the library. Jace pauses just under it and turns back to address us.
“There’s a good chance the Board has moved its headquarters into the library,” he begins. “It’s never been necessary before, but it’s protocol in case the tunnels are needed for an escape. So look alive, men. It may take them a minute to register that we’re not the enemy.”
A round of grunting approval passes through the group. Jace presses his shoulder into the door and heaves it open. It creaks on its hinges, and the ceiling above us becomes the floor of the library. The Rovers pour through it and into the room. Justin and I hold our stance and our breath, waiting one second longer before we take the last upward steps to enter the room.
A handful of guards face off against the Rovers, armed and ready to fight. A shuffle, a cocking of weapons. Their eyes flicker with the pulsing of the Serum, and the Rovers take up position against them.
“Hold your fire!” Jace hollers. “We’re Team Blackbird, Rover 1.”
It takes a minute for their brains to catch up with their alarm, but after a moment, one guard after another slowly lowers his weapon.
“Rovers?” Ernie steps through the short line of guards, his broad shoulders taut and upright. The smile that suddenly spreads across his face sends wrinkles rushing to the corners of his eyes. “Fellas, am I glad to see you.”
Jace steps forward to take the bigger man’s hand. “Ernie. It’s been a while.”
“It certainly has. Please tell me you have some answers to this mess we’re in.”
I scan the room. Tables have been converted into makeshift desks—maps and charts and a couple copies of the Code littering them.
“We have intel concerning the attack that needs to be relayed to the chairman. The Board’s quick response could very well determine the survival of our city.”
Ernie nods. “I’ll take you to him. He left here an hour ago. It’s been a long few days.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Jace responds.
He barks instructions to his team quickly: Convene with the guard, assess the condition of the citizens, check the perimeter of the wall for any breaches. The five remaining Rovers acknowledge him and stream out of the library. Kyle places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes before following the others.
“Ernie,” I take a step forward, and Ernie turns, his eyes widening.
“Ian?” He scrutinizes me. “Did you just . . . come in with the Rovers?”
“Yeah.” I hear a hint of regret in my own voice, but I shove it down.
Ernie narrows his eyes, but then he sighs. “What are your parents going to do with you? You need to learn to stay put.”
“If I had, the Rovers wouldn’t be here,” I answer. “And I know. I’m in big trouble . . . again, right?”
“Why don’t you ask your mother that question?”
I perk up. “Where is she?”
“All the board members and their families have been moved here for security reasons.” He nods his head toward the door. “She’s in one of the reading rooms in the west hall.”
Justin takes a step. “What about my dad, Ernie?”
Ernie sweeps his eyes toward Justin. “I imagine Doc is where he always is. The lab.”
I toss Justin a glance. He purses his lips. Ernie tosses an order to the guards before he makes his way across the large room to the main entrance. A couple of guards move to close the opening in the floor.
“Do what you have to do, boys.” Jace says, a firm hand on my shoulder. He nods once and follows Ernie.
“I guess I’m going to the lab,” Justin says. He tucks his thumbs into the straps of his pack. “I’m not looking forward to this.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
He shakes his head. “I’d better go on my own. I’d like to tell him everything myself.”
“Okay.”
We exit the room together, splitting in the foyer. I head toward the corridor full of reading rooms while he takes to the main exit. A couple of guards are on duty near the front of the hall. One of them presses a hand into my chest as I try to pass.
“Where’re you headed, boy?” His hand is on the butt of the gun at his hip.
I peer past him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the doors lining the corridor are all closed.
“I’m Ian Roberts. My mom is down here. Vivian Roberts?”
He exchanges a glance with the other guard, who scrutinizes me closely. I don’t recognize either one of them. I frown.
“Can I go?”
Neither one of them makes a move to let me pass.
“Come on—”
A door opens, and a wispy shadow emerges.
“Ian?”
My thoughts dissolve into the familiar voice that says my name. And before I can react, Bethany Ryan barrels her way between the guards and throws herself into my arms. She wears pajama pants and a tank top, her hair piled on top of her head.
“Ian, Ian, Ian.” She buries her face against my throat, her embrace tightening as she repeats my name, and I wrap my arms around her waist, holding her tight. Because, well, she needs me to. And I need her at the moment. I’m so glad she’s safe. Her body is warm, her scent sweet in my nostrils, and the bitterness I felt toward her last time I saw her dissolves into forgiveness. I close my eyes and let myself bask in that feeling for just a minute.
“Hi,” I whisper. She pulls back, pierces me with her violet eyes. They glisten with tears. “How are you?”
“Tag—” she chokes on his name. “He—he–he died. He died, Ian.”
Two tears spill down her cheeks in unison. I nod, my lip quivering. Not because I was fond of Tag, but because she loved him, and she’s hurting, and I never wished him dead.
“I know.”
She bursts into full tears, and I pull her into my chest and let her cry it out, a wet stain smearing my shirt. The guards stand by uncomfortably, but it’s clear they’ve decided I’m safe.
“Your mom,” she says. “She’s this way.”
She tugs me past the guards, refusing to let go of my hand. As if she’s afraid I might vanish into thin air if she does. Our footsteps tap in unison on the shiny wood floor.
“What’s going to happen to us, Ian?” she hiccups. “If they can kill us, we can’t ever leave. We’ll—we’ll die—in here. We’ll starve.”
I pull her to a stop.
“No. I’ve brought help.” I try to smile. She closes her eyes, lowering her head, but I take her face in both my hands and make her look at me. “Listen to me. You are not going to starve. We are going to get out of this.”
She blinks, causing another tear to escape, but she nods.
We make our way past the row of doors, the dark wood splintered here and there by age. It’s well past midnight now, and silence stretches out with muted fingers as the library takes on a different role. Tables have been moved out of the rooms and stand against the walls, chairs stacked on top. It feels more like a prison than a library as the hall shrinks in around us. My claustrophobia rises to the surface. I swallow, squeezing Bethany’s hand more tightly.
It unsettles me that this is what we’ve come to. Eden—the city full of strength, the eternal city—cowers inside tiny rooms in a library because a big, bad wolf outside is threatening to blow us away. If someone had said those words to me six weeks ago, I never would have believed it. And despite what I just said to Bethany, it is a real possibility. Cowering may be the only thing that keeps an Eden-killer from taking our lives. The Vortex holds all the power.
We reach the room, and I knock once—lightly
at first, and then more forcefully.
“Mom?”
No answer. I push the door open.
The dim light fixture that normally hangs over the reading table now flickers and buzzes over a set of beds. One of them holds my mom, her body curled around my baby sister. Daphne Phillips sleeps in the other. I untangle myself from Bethany’s grip and go to my knees, gently touching my mom’s arm.
“Mom,” I whisper.
Before I can blink, she leaps to her feet, pistol pointed at my chest. Daphne Phillips flies from her own bed to stand a foot from us. One quick step, and the light hits my face.
“Mom, it’s me.”
Her breath catches in her throat, and her arms fall to her sides. I drop my quiver to the floor. And lean my bow against the wall.
“Ian,” she whispers.
The tears in her voice transform into a wet line standing along her bottom lids. She moves toward me, and I wrap her up in my arms.
“Ian,” Mrs. Phillips repeats my name with a sigh of her own. She places a hand on my arm. “Is Justin with you?”
I meet her eyes over Mom’s head. “He went to the lab.”
A relieved sound emits from between her parted lips. “Thank God. Thank you, God.”
Her words stun me. I pull away from my mom slightly. Mrs. Phillips scoops up a small bag from the floor beside her bed and makes her way around us to the door. Bethany, standing in the doorway, moves aside to let her pass. But Mom catches her by the wrist.
“Are you sure you should leave the library, Daph?”
Mrs. Phillips gives her a wary glance. “No. But it’s my boy, Viv. I haven’t seen him in weeks.” After a second, she adds. “I belong with my family. And if that means the lab, it means the lab.”
Her face is a sheet of repulsion. She spent nearly as much time at the lab as Doc once—as lead computer tech. A few years ago, she gave that up to teach classes. Justin told me once that she hated the lab. He never told me why. I’m not sure he knows, but I see every bit of that hatred in Mrs. Phillips’ expression.
She brushes out of the room, and Bethany softly closes the door and faces us.
Ava sleeps on. She looks so sweet—so at peace, and a part of me wishes she wouldn’t wake up. That she would just keep on sleeping until the nightmare ends.
Mom shoves the pistol into the back of her belt and takes my face in her hands. She runs her fingers through my hair, assessing me. Her eyes—same blue as mine—settle on my face.
“Tell me,” she says.
We sink onto the empty bed, and I tell her everything I know about the Vortex, the Serum, the virus. I tell her what I’ve done and what I’ve seen. I spill my heart out about Kate, and it feels good to talk about her with Mom—even with Bethany sitting right here in the room.
Mom cries—over the secrets she kept from me in order to uphold the Code. She cries over the things she didn’t know, the things she can’t change. She grieves over what I had to do and what I couldn’t stop from doing that has made me into a man—a soldier—sooner than she ever intended. Bethany doesn’t speak, her knees pulled up to her chest, her bare feet dangling over the edge of a chair—numb.
“I’m sorry, Ian.” Mom sighs.
I crease my brows. “For what?”
She twists her body slightly, lays a hand on Ava’s leg.
“Mom?”
Mom closes her eyes, another sigh easing through her pressed lips. “David Phillips is a brilliant doctor.” She licks her lips, her face painfully contorted, and she looks straight at me. “I lost three babies before you were born. And two more afterwards. And still, no cure.”
I straighten, blink once. Mom shakes her head with a weak smile.
“But you lived. You and Bethany. Justin, Jesse, Max—an entire class. Coincidence, a miracle . . . God.” She looks at me. “It doesn’t matter. You all carried the mutation, and you lived.”
She looks away, stares at the empty wall behind Bethany.
“When Daphne got pregnant with Justin,” she smiles. “Doc went to work. He was determined that this child would live. He worked day and night on a new and improved mixture.” She looks at me. “It was ready mere days before you were born. So you were the first baby to receive the new batch.”
“You never told me this,” I say. She nods.
“I think we’ve established that I didn’t tell you much of anything.” She sighs. “Despite my misgivings, we let Doc fill your veins with a stronger, more advanced mixture. Your father insisted it was the perfect time for a breakthrough moment. It was risky, we didn’t know how it would affect you, if it would cure you. I was scared. One by one, he injected each baby with the new Serum. All of you lived.”
She nods at me.
“You showed the most promise. You probably don’t remember, but you healed much more quickly than the other children. And you were faster, even at a young age. Doc believed he’d finally done it.” She shakes her head. “And then, the next year, three newborns died. He was devastated.”
Her eyes fall over Ava.
“But he kept working, kept developing. Determined to find the cure. His latest batch of Serum? It’s stronger.” She pauses. “But babies still die. The mutation still matters regardless of how strong the Serum may be.”
There’s a slight hint of anger in her voice. I glance at Ava. She breathes evenly, her dark hair flowing in waves out from her face and across the pillow.
“I guess you know about her,” Mom says.
“Yeah. She sort of told me the night I slipped out of Eden.”
Mom nods. “I don’t blame her. I shouldn’t have put so much pressure on her to keep such a big secret.” She examines her thumbnail, scratches at it a minute. “I guess I thought . . . if I pretended it wasn’t happening, it would go away.”
She laughs softly at the fault in her thinking. I take her hand.
“I haven’t let her out of this room,” she continues. “Not once.”
“Why?”
“Because her defense sequence has never been activated. And as long as she doesn’t encounter a threat, it won’t.”
I swallow, almost afraid to ask my next question. “What will happen if it does?”
Mom purses her lips. “I don’t want to find out,” she whispers.
I straighten.
“She shifted before her training ever began. You were all aware that it would happen one day. Your lessons prepared you somewhat. She was not prepared for the Shift.”
Ava squirms in her sleep, rolls over to face the wall. She looks so ordinary. Just a little girl snuggled under her blankets. Bethany’s eyes fall over her, awe etched into them.
“What can she do?” she asks.
Mom hesitates a moment. “According to the study, just about anything she wants. She’ll be stronger and faster and than either of you. She just doesn’t know it yet.”
“Mom.” I slide off the bed and kneel in front of her. “Those men I killed? My mind associated them with the enemy, and the Serum took over to protect and defend. I felt it, and I couldn’t have stopped if I’d wanted to. So you’re saying Ava—”
I can’t finish the sentence, and Bethany’s eyes widen as she considers what this might mean for her. She wraps her arms around her raised legs, slinking down in the chair.
“You’ve always had a harder time with self-control, with following orders, with your temper,” Mom responds.
“Yeah,” I nod tensely.
She faces Bethany. “And your weakness is restraint, passive-aggression, jealousy at times—all linked to self-control.”
Bethany straightens, letting her feet drop to the floor. She leans forward, her fingers tightly gripping the seat.
“How do you know all this about me?” she asks, alarm in her voice.
“Doc keeps logs. The Board has access. And not all the data is negative.” She nods toward me. “You developed speed. Jesse . . . strength. Justin’s brain activity is off the charts. But the common factor is that none of you fully shifted u
ntil you were of age. The Serum was designed with a fail safe that would not allow a shift no matter how many doses of advanced Serum you might receive. The first dose is foundational. Dominant. Every other dose of nanotech adjusts accordingly, limiting your ability.”
Her face contorts with a scowl.
“Until Ava shifted a few weeks ago, I didn’t know Doc had made an advancement. I made him show me his work.” Her eyes find me. “Because she’s already shifted, her abilities will reach full level much sooner than yours.” She swings her eyes from Bethany to me. “I don’t know what she is capable of.”
“Mom.” Her name is a scratchy whisper in my throat. “Doc is working on a Serum that will cause babies to shift. If he gets it right—”
I choke on the words. Mom squeezes my hand with a nod.
“The New Breed. That’s what he calls it. He believes this Serum will be the cure. But he doesn’t know for sure. It’s a theory.”
I swallow. “And if he gets it to work?” I ask.
“Child soldiers.” Mom noticeably swallows. She reaches out to caress my baby sister’s sleeping face, her fingers catching a piece of her dark, silky hair. “He believes these babies will survive the virus, even without the mutated gene. But they will be unteachable, untrainable creatures. They will not hesitate to kill anything their minds define as an enemy. This could be a boy on the playground who steals a swing. They will not be able to determine when it’s best to withhold aggression.” Mom’s voice falls to a whisper. “They will merely survive, defend, preserve themselves without regret.”
Creatures. The image stings me, and a shudder slides over me like rough, scaly skin. I stand abruptly.
“We have to destroy the Serum.”
My words are definitive, and Bethany mouth falls open slightly. She clutches a fist against her chest as she tosses her gaze between us. But Mom’s eyes settle on me, and her voice is a calm sea when she speaks.
“I think this is exactly what we have to do.”
I stare into her blue eyes, and my pounding heart ripples fiercely.
But the air eases out of my lungs, and I nod.
Chapter 37
I
