Twisted Fate_A Broken World Novel

by Kate L. Mary

  When we finally made it to the lobby, she was waiting for us. Her hood was down and a smile curled up her lips the second she laid eyes on us, but her gaze was focused mainly on Angus until her daughter stopped in front of her.

  “It is done?” the priestess asked.

  Sabine nodded. “He is dead.”

  Her mother’s gaze moved to the guard who had been bitten, but her smile didn’t fade and she didn’t even blink before saying, “Take him to the Temple. We will see how strong his faith is.”

  Sabine nodded once before leading the man, who was looking a little shaky on his legs, toward the hole that had formerly been the front of the CDC.

  Once they’d walked away, the High Priestess turned her pale eyes back on Angus. “You have fulfilled your part.”

  “If you mean killin’ Star, yeah, I have.”

  Her smile grew. “The zombies. My sources tell me that they have begun to die.”

  “Sources?” Parv asked.

  The priestess didn’t look at her. “I told you, I have people everywhere.”

  I believed her.

  “Come.” She turned and began to walk, and even though I had no desire to follow her, I did because we were headed in the same direction anyway.

  The rest of my group did as well, and the closer we got to the street, the more people turned to look at us. At first I thought they were staring at the High Priestess, but then we walked outside and I heard my uncle’s name being murmured over and over again. That’s when I noticed that all eyes were on him.

  He was still without a shirt, and the scars from the many bites he’d received marked him as the man they’d been waiting for. Angus James, savior of the world and destroyer of zombies. He’d returned just like The Church had promised, had ripped open the walls of the CDC and killed Star, and apparently was in the process of taking the zombies out as well.

  “What will you do now, Angus James?” the High Priestess asked as we moved out into the crowd.

  “Live my life. Be with my family.”

  She nodded, the smile still on her lips. “You have earned it.”

  The crowd parted as we moved, allowing us to make our way through the courtyard to the street. I scanned the faces of the people we passed, took in the fanatical look in their eyes, the way they knelt when my uncle walked by or bowed their heads. Every single person here was looking at him in awe. Before today most of the population had already bought into the crazy teachings of The Church, but now that Angus was here, now that he’d confirmed what the High Priestess had been saying for years, it was going to get so much worse. Would anyone in the city be able to deny anything she said after this? Probably not. She could make up any crazy prophecy she wanted and they would all believe it. They would be like sheep following her to the slaughter if that’s what she wanted them to do, and the thought caused a sick feeling to form in the pit of my stomach.

  Thirty-One

  Meg

  The High Priestess was right. All we had to do was drive through the streets of old Atlanta to see it. At first glimpse the motionless bodies that dotted the ground were nothing unusual. Dead zombies weren’t uncommon, especially this close to the wall. But the further we drove, the more we saw. The older ones seemed to be going first, their brains either weaker or that strain of the virus more susceptible, but even some of the less decayed zombies we passed were acting irregularly. Stumbling when there was nothing in their way, bumping into trees. Something was definitely happening.

  Of course, I didn’t really need to see the zombies to know the failsafe was doing its job. Donaghy’s deteriorating condition was enough proof for me. Before we’d even made it out of the city limits he was writhing in agony, so much so that when he finally slipped into unconsciousness, it was a relief. As much as I didn’t want him to die, I couldn’t stand to see him in pain.

  He didn’t regain consciousness. Not during the drive, not when we reached Senoia, not when Angus and Dragon carried him into the house. They laid him out on the couch Margot had been on before and I sat at his side, ignoring everyone else, too focused on him because I knew we only had a few precious hours left. My sister was up and moving around, and deep down I knew I should check on how she was doing, but I couldn’t make myself leave Donaghy’s side.

  His face twitched in his sleep, giving off the impression that he was still in pain even though he wasn’t conscious. I hoped not. I hoped he had slipped into an abyss of darkness that held onto him until his heart stopped beating.

  “Megan.” I turned at the sound of Mom’s voice and found her holding a steaming mug out to me. “Soup.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not hungry.”

  “You need to eat,” she said, trying to force it on me.

  “Would you?” I asked, giving her a pointed look. “If Dad were lying here, would you eat? Oh wait, no you wouldn’t. I know because I watched you refuse to do anything for weeks when he disappeared.”

  She jerked back at my words, but sat down next to me anyway. “That’s why I’m doing this,” she said. “Because I want you to be stronger. I know how much you hurt, believe me, but I won’t let you lose yourself. Understand?”

  Tears filled my eyes, and even though I tried to blink them away, they refused to listen. They rolled down my cheeks and I had to wipe at them with the back of my free hand, the other one wrapped around Donaghy’s motionless one.

  “It’s not fair. Things were going to get better. We were going to have a chance.”

  Mom set the mug on the floor so she could pull me in for a hug, and even though I needed it, I still refused to release Donaghy’s hand.

  “I’m sorry, I really am. If there was something I could do for you, you know I’d do it.”

  “I know,” I said.

  She sat with me for a while, but we didn’t talk. Other people came and went, and I caught glimpses of my sister who looked clean and more alert, whose hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, and who was wearing clothes that didn’t look wrinkled from lying on the couch. Once I even saw her smile, and the sight of it would have been enough to break my heart if it wasn’t already shattered.

  It was late, and slowly the house quieted as people went to bed. Mom tried to stay, and even though the gesture touched me, I refused. I didn’t want to have someone staring at me, watching me for cracks in my already shaky exterior. I didn’t want to have to look strong when I knew I wasn’t.

  Before long it was just me in the living room, and I pulled my chair up to the couch as close as I could get it and rested my head on Donaghy’s chest. His heart thumped against my ear and I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to memorize the sound. Trying to let it comfort me. It didn’t because I knew the beats were numbered, but I clung to the sound anyway.

  “Meg.”

  I knew the voice that woke me couldn’t be real, and even though there was a part of me that wanted to allow myself to drift back into that dream world where Donaghy could still whisper my name, I opened my eyes. Maybe it was better to accept reality than to cling to something that could never be.

  I was still in the same chair I’d been holding vigil in for the last few hours and my head was still on Donaghy’s chest, but my face was turned toward his feet. His heart was still beating, I could feel it against my cheek as well as the steady rise and fall of his chest. He was still alive.

  I didn’t know how much time had gone by since I’d fallen asleep, but the kink in my neck told me it had been a couple hours. How much longer could he hold on like this? How much more could his brain take before he finally slipped away?

  “Meg.”

  I froze. It couldn’t be real. There was no way he’d just whispered my name. At least that’s what I tried to tell myself, but the fact that I’d felt the word vibrate through his chest defied all logic, and when a hand brushed against the top of my head, it completely swept away my ability to be rational.

  I didn’t sit up, but instead twisted my head so I was looking at Donaghy’s face. His eyes were open,
just as I’d hoped they would be, and he was staring at me with an expression of pure wonder.

  I swallowed. “You’re alive.”

  “I’m alive.” He shook his head and sat up, pulling me with him. His hands were on either side of my face and somehow I ended up on his lap, so close that I could feel it when he exhaled. “I don’t know how, the last thing I remember feeling was weakness and pain, but it’s gone. It’s all gone.”

  A sob broke out of me, but it disappeared the second Donaghy closed his lips over mine. Whatever had happened had to have been a miracle, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care how he’d survived because he was here and I was with him.

  We kissed like we hadn’t seen each other in years, and every brush of his tongue against mine made my heart beat faster. I moved closer, twisting my body so I was straddling him. His hands moved from my face to my back, his fingers flexing against my body like they were itching to rip my clothes off. I wanted him to. I wanted him to undress me so I could undress him, I wanted him to explore every inch of my body in a world where both the Stars were dead and the zombies were dying off. I wanted us to celebrate this moment and this miracle that I hadn’t even dared to hope for.

  Something clattered to the floor behind me and I pulled away to see my mom standing in the doorway, a coffee cup lying at her feet. “You’re okay.”

  “I’m okay,” Donaghy said.

  “How?” she whispered.

  He only shrugged in response.

  “Maybe the vaccine had time to work.” I was still on his lap, still straddling him, but I didn’t care. “Or maybe it was Angus’s blood.”

  Mom’s eyebrows shot up, and then she let out a laugh. It was loud and light, and seemed to come from the past, from a different person and a different time, back before Margot and Dad were taken and everything had started to spiral out of control.

  “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to Angus being the hero,” she said.

  I laughed too, and then laid my head on Donaghy’s chest when tears came to my eyes with the laughter. Before I could stop them, sobs were shaking my body, and even though I wanted to savor this moment, the emotions I’d been holding back for the past few days bubbled over and burst out of me like a fountain. I couldn’t hold it in.

  “Shhh,” Donaghy whispered, his lips brushing my cheeks even as the tears fell. “It’s okay. We’re all going to be okay.”

  That only made me cry harder though, because for the first time in years he was right. We were all going to be okay. Margot and Dad were back, Angus was alive, the Stars were dead and the zombies were on their way to joining them. But it was too much to take in, too many miraculous things had happened for me to wrap my brain around them all, and now that Donaghy was okay too, I felt like I had been sucked into a dream and if I wasn’t careful I’d wake up and find myself in some twisted world where none of this was real.

  “Megan,” Mom said from behind me, her voice full of worry.

  I pushed away from Donaghy and wiped my face with my arms. “I’m okay. It’s just so overwhelming. I can’t believe it. It’s like a miracle.” Then I laughed. “Maybe The Church is right. Maybe Angus is the savior of the world.”

  Mom shook her head while Donaghy kissed my cheek.

  “I know I’m a believer,” he said.

  I laughed, but a part of me wondered if there wasn’t something to it. Angus’s immunity had seemed like a miracle to everyone back in the beginning, but now it seemed like so much more. It had taken my family on a journey that had led them all the way across the country and spanned twenty years, one that had been full of heartache and loss, but one that had ended up leading them to a solution to the zombie problem. If Angus hadn’t been held in the CDC he never would have had Glitter or fallen in love with Jane, and if those things hadn’t happened none of us would have ever learned about the failsafe. As twisted as it sounded, it felt like fate. Like Angus had been destined to do all those things.

  Maybe I was a believer too.

  Thirty-Two

  Meg

  The sight of the red robed men standing in the guard towers was jarring even from a distance. More so than the bodies scattered across old Atlanta, or the sight of the occasional person walking down the street like it was nothing, because those robes reminded me of the foreboding feeling that had come over me the day we’d stormed the CDC here. How uncomfortable I’d felt as we’d followed Angus through the crowd of believers. Yes, we’d all suspected this would happen, but that didn’t make seeing it any less disturbing.

  Dad slowed the car to a stop outside the gate and we sat in total silence as we waited for it to open. Mom was in the passenger seat while Uncle Angus rode in the back next to me. I’d insisted on coming even though I wasn’t really a James—of course, neither was Mom when you looked at it that way—because I’d needed to know what was happening inside the walls, needed to know what The Church was up to. But right now, I was starting to wonder if ignorance wasn’t better.

  The gates opened with a creak that could have been mistaken for thunder, revealing even more guards in red robes, and dad threw the car into gear.

  “Let’s get this over with,” he mumbled.

  He drove through, but he didn’t make it far. A robed man with an automatic weapon stepped in front of us, forcing dad to slow to a stop just inside the gate.

  “Looks like The Church has changed their mind about violence,” Mom said under her breath.

  “You surprised?” Dad muttered as he rolled the window down.

  “State your business,” the man with the gun barked.

  “Axl and Angus James,” Dad said. “Here to see the priestess.”

  The man hunched over so he could get a look inside, his gaze sweeping across the four of us so fast that I doubted he’d be able to describe us even if a gun was held to his head. Then he said, “Weapons?”

  “Always,” Dad replied firmly.

  The man’s gaze held his for a moment. “We do not allow guns in the Temple. You will leave those in your vehicle. Do you understand?” When Dad nodded once the man stepped back. “You may proceed.”

  Dad rolled up the window and did as he was told.

  None of us spoke as we drove through the city. I’d only been back once since the night Star was killed, two days later so I could go into the Biosafety Level four lab again, this time with Dragon. The Church had been in a hurry to demolish the building, but we’d known that we needed to get every vial of bacteria out of there before they did it. It was the only way to ensure that the zombies were wiped off the face of the earth in a timely manner.

  After I’d broken that first vial, the zombies in the area had started dying off quickly, more of them dropping every day. But logic told us that if we waited for this thing to spread on its own it could take years to reach the rest of the country. The original virus had spread fast because people traveled a lot back then, but these days it was rare, meaning we were going to have to take matters into our own hands.

  So Dragon and I had put on suits and gone back into the lab of death. My family hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of me going in a second time, but with Helen gone, I had been the only one who’d had any knowledge of how to maneuver the lab. So I’d gone, and together Dragon and I had gotten every vial of the failsafe out of there safely.

  We’d done it just in time too. We’d heard reports that The Church, led by the High Priestess, had blown up the CDC only two days later, and now that we were in the city I could see the proof of it with my own eyes. There was nothing but rubble where the building had once stood. Chunks of concrete, twisted metal, and glass were all that remained of the building where Star had plotted to destroy the world, but nothing about the sight was satisfying. Not when I knew the rubble symbolized something much bigger than the death of Star. The Church had destroyed it for a reason. That pile of rubble symbolized the death of science in New Atlanta. Faith now reigned here. Faith in what, I wasn’t sure. The Church had held my uncle in high esteem for nearly t
wo decades, but now that they were no longer waiting for his return, I had no clue if they were still worshiping him or if they’d moved on to something else. I just knew that things inside these walls had changed drastically in the seven weeks since Star’s death.

  I was used to seeing the red robes of The Church, but this was a whole new level of crazy. Every single person over the age of eighteen now wore one, and those who were still considered children all wore red as well. Red dresses, red shirts, or red pants. It didn’t matter as long as they were sporting the color in some way. The sidewalks of New Atlanta were now a sea of crimson, and it was so disturbingly unreal that I felt like I’d been sucked into another world.

  “Did they force out the people who didn’t want to join The Church?” Mom asked as we passed a group of kids who were kicking a ball across a small patch of grass.

  “They must have,” I muttered.

  The truth was, we were pretty clueless about what had been happening. We’d moved to Senoia and started over there, and for the past seven weeks all of our time had been devoted to healing and learning to be a family again. The Church and New Atlanta had been in the backs of all our minds, but we hadn’t returned. Hadn’t checked on what was happening. Hadn’t planned to. Not until the High Priestess had summoned Dad and Angus here.

  We knew it had something to do with the James blood, which was why we’d intentionally left Margot and Glitter back in Senoia. The Church had no idea that Glitter existed, and as far as they knew Margot had died nine years ago. That was how everyone wanted it to stay. With Angus now alive and The Church in the middle of reinventing itself, I had no trouble imagining them grasping onto my innocent younger sister as the new object of their obsessive insanity.