“You're crying, Jenny,” he said.
“I can't be,” she said. “Dead people don't cry.”
“Maybe,” he said, “what we think we know doesn't apply here.” He reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek. He only hesitated for a moment when he touched her cold skin this time, and he didn't shrink away. Jenny stepped away from him.
“You need to go,” she said.
Declan studied her. “Why won't you let me help you? Do you realize how long I've been looking for you? What I've been through to get back to you?”
“You don't want me,” said Jenny.
“What happened, Jen?” he said. There was a note of pain in his voice that made Jenny's chest ache and break all over again. “Where did you go?”
“Declan,” she said, “have you hurt anyone?”
“What?”
Jenny reached for a lantern on the table and slid it towards her. “Did you hurt anyone?”
She saw his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed. “Yes,” he said after a moment.
“Did you kill anyone?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I'm sorry. I was so angry when you...when you disappeared. I didn't know what to do with myself. And it just happened. I came here and everything went kind of red and when it was over I was covered in blood. And he was dead.”
“He?” said Jenny.
“Yeah,” said Declan.
“And then what?”
“And then nothing,” he said. “All these people were screaming and then I ran away like a coward. I went home and I was finally able to sleep. It's sick, I know, but he was the reason...the reason you died, Jen.”
“Are you talking about Joshua?” she said.
“Of course. Who else?”
“Joshua didn't kill me. His wife did.”
“Oh,” Declan said weakly. He put a hand to his mouth. “Oh Jesus.”
“He was a rapist and a murderer, though,” said Jenny.
“Did he ever–”
“Rape me?” said Jenny. “He tried. I kicked the ever-loving shit out of him.”
Declan smiled and the pain in Jenny's chest deepened. “That's my girl,” he said.
Jenny grabbed a box of matches lying nearby, struck one on the cinder blocks that formed the base of the table, and lit the oil lamp. She raised it over her head. The entire room came into view for the first time.
“Look,” Jenny said.
Declan frowned at her, but turned to see. She watched him take in the room, his knees buckling a little as he absorbed the scene in front of them.
“What the hell is this?” he said, his voice low and breathless. He stepped forward slowly, looking down at the bodies, black and crawling with maggots. He turned around, seemingly overwhelmed by the number of rotting corpses. Stepping around them he noticed the walls, and reached out a hand to touch Jenny's name, scrawled in dried blood. Some of it flaked off when he touched the letters. Declan turned around and looked at her.
“Who did this?” he said.
“You don't know?” Jenny said.
“You think this was me?” he said. “You think I killed all these people?”
Jenny didn't answer, just returned Declan's stare.
“I didn't do this, Jen,” he said.
“You haven't been yourself lately, Declan,” she said. “Maybe you blocked it out.”
“The fuck I did,” he said. “I might have gone a little off the deep end, but I would never do this. There are women here. Girls. How could you think I would do this?”
“You killed Joshua. You said you did.”
“Yeah, because I thought he killed you.”
Jenny looked down at Joshua's unrecognizable remains. He was nothing but a pile of garbage now. It didn't even look like a body, just a pile of filthy clothes.
“It's not just this,” Jenny said without looking at him. “There was a girl who I met here. Lily.”
“Okay,” said Declan.
“Joshua raped her. Over and over again. She couldn't have been more than sixteen. Maybe seventeen. But she was so sweet, Deck. She got pregnant.”
“Fuck,” said Declan. “I'm glad I killed him.”
“Me too,” said Jenny. “He was a fucking stain on humanity. But that's not my point.”
“Make your point then,” he said.
“You know those rotters we saw? Some were in Detroit, and we saw some when we rolled into Chicago. Nailed to poles like Jesus, left to rot away in the most horrible way imaginable. All sliced up and disfigured and all they could do was scream.” Declan was watching her. “I found Lily like that. Only she wasn't a rotter. She was alive. Barely. Someone had sliced her up and then nailed these spikes into her wrists and feet. A rotter had ripped the fetus out of her belly. She died right there in front of me, and there wasn't a fucking thing I could do about it.”
“Why are you telling me this?” said Declan softly.
“I told her to run,” said Jenny. “It was my fault. I told her to run and she did. She listened to me. If she hadn't, she would have died quickly. But because of me, she suffered more than you can imagine.”
“You think I would hurt a kid?” said Declan. “You think I did that to her?”
“I thought it was the Righteous at first,” said Jenny. “I thought they were making a point. Maybe they were. But a tiny part of me wondered if it could be you. And there was this.” Jenny gestured around the room.
“And what do you think now?” Declan's voice was tight.
“I don't know,” she admitted. “I don't fucking know who would do this, or why. But I don't think it was you.”
“You believe me?” he said.
“I think,” she said, “that someone tried really hard to make it look like you did this. And I want to know why.”
Declan seemed to relax, some of the tension going out of his shoulders. “You think your friend's murder is connected to this?”
“I don't know,” said Jenny. “It's weird, though. I get this feeling like all this fucked up shit is...”
“What?” said Declan.
“It's stupid,” she said. “It doesn't make sense. But I feel like it's because of me.”
Declan was quiet for a long moment. She felt him watching her. After a time, he came over and hopped up on the table, the wood groaning under his weight.
“I saw you,” he said quietly. “When you found that girl. I followed you from the lab. After I saw you.”
“You followed me?” said Jenny.
“I had to know,” said Declan. “After all this time of being angry and crazy and...it was like I was in this black pit. I couldn't see anything around me. But when I saw you, it all melted away. All the darkness and pain and rage – God, there was so much rage – it all melted away when I saw you. All I could see was you. So I followed you. Of course I did. I needed to know if you were alive or a rotter or if you were even real. And I saw you find that girl. At first I thought you were going to do something horrible. I knew your eyes were funny, and even though you talked to me, I thought you were probably a rotter.”
“I am a rotter,” she said.
“No,” he said. “You're not.”
“I want to eat you right now,” she said.
“But you're fighting it,” he said. “Rotters don't do that.”
“So you saw me,” she said.
“You will never know how hard it was,” he said, “not to go to you right there. When I saw how much you were hurting. When I saw you kill that rotter to keep it away from her, I knew it was you, Jen. I just knew. And I knew I would do anything to try to help you.”
“Why didn't you?”
Declan shrugged, looking pained. “I saw the guy you were with. He looked, you know, undead. I don't know. I guess I was a little scared.”
“You?” said Jenny.
Declan smiled. “Not like that,” he said. “I wasn't afraid of fighting or getting hurt.”
“That was my brother.”
&n
bsp; Declan nodded. “Of course it was. Well, it wasn't him I was afraid of. Not really.”
“You were afraid of this,” said Jenny. “Of me. Of what I'd become.”
“No,” he said. “That's not it.”
“Then what?”
He swallowed. “I was afraid you wouldn't want me. That you would run away again. That things had changed between us. I've tried so hard, Jen. But I can't be in this world without you. It's just not in me.”
“You're just grieving,” she said.
“No,” he said. He slid down from the table and faced her. “Please tell me you know how I feel.”
“Deck, I can't be with you. Not anymore. Look at me. I'm a zombie. I smell dead, I look dead, and until a few days ago I couldn't feel anything but the intense need to rip living things apart with my teeth.”
“I saw you cry, Jen. Rotters don't cry. There's something going on that we don't understand. Maybe it has something to do with your mother.”
“How do you know about that?”
“You told me,” he said. “Remember that night we found that bottle of tequila?”
“Oh,” said Jenny. “Shit. I don't really remember anything from that night.”
Declan laughed. “Yeah. I know.”
“I told you?”
“You told me everything,” he said.
“You never told anyone.”
“Of course not,” he said.
“You didn't show it.”
“How would I show it?” he said.
“I don't know,” she said. “You didn't hate me for it.”
“So?”
“Why not?”
He shook his head. “You're the only one worth talking to. You're the only person I care about. Jenny, you're the only person worth saving. You've got to know I feel that way. A little dark family history isn't going to change that.”
“That isn't me,” she said. “You love Jenny Alive. Not Jenny Undead. You can't love this thing I've become.”
“You're not as different as you think you are,” he said. “You're pushing me away because you're afraid you're going to hurt me.”
“I am going to hurt you,” she said. “It's only a matter of time.”
“I'll take my chances,” he said.
“You're an idiot,” she said.
“See? Some things never change.”
“I should have pretended I was a rotter.”
Declan frowned. “Why were you there? What was that thing your brother had?”
“A centrifuge,” she said.
“Why did you want a centrifuge?” he said, a puzzled look crossing his face.
Jenny looked away. She couldn't tell him why. It would give him hope. And she didn't think hope was what he needed right now. He needed to stay away and get on with his life.
“Aren't those for testing blood?” he said. “Why would you need something like that?”
“Deck...”
“I've bared my soul to you, Jen. Just tell me what's going on.”
“I can't.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because I don't know what it means.”
“Jenny, let me help you. For once in your life, let me help you.”
“I don't have a life. I never will.”
“Why won't you tell me?” He grabbed her hand. She tried to pull away, but he held onto it. His skin was so hot. This time he didn't show any revulsion at all. “Jen, I'm not leaving. I don't care if you're alive or dead or somewhere in between. I'm never leaving again.”
“I can't ever be alive with you again, Declan,” she said. “I can't make love or sleep or do things just to make my heart race. I'm dead. Just dead.”
“I don't care,” he said. “You'll have to kill me.”
Jenny looked down at his hand holding hers. “There was a message,” she said. “From my mother.”
“How? I thought she was dead.”
“Casey found it in her old office. It was a list of thirteen names. Casey and my names were on it. We were the survivors of the experiments they did.”
“Survivors?” he said. “So a bunch of people died?”
“Kids,” said Jenny. “We were all kids. I was the oldest and I was just sixteen. But the names weren't all that were on it.”
“What else?”
“You know who my mom is, don't you?”
“Anna Hawkins,” he said.
“You know what she did?”
Declan looked uncomfortable. “Is it true? Did she really start all this shit? The plague?”
“I don't know,” said Jenny. “But the note said that there was a cure.”
“What?” said Declan. He straightened. “What is it?”
“My mother is crazy,” said Jenny. “Casey said she went nuts in the bunker they lived in.”
“Jen, what's the cure?”
“It's us,” Jenny said. “The Thirteen. The survivors. She said I was the key. I don't know what any of it means. I don't understand.”
“So, you're the cure?”
“Maybe,” she said. “It's all fucking cryptic.”
“But, you might be.”
Jenny shrugged. “Yeah.”
Declan stared at her for a moment. He put a hand through his hair roughly, making it stand on end. He looked away from her towards the tunnel, then met her eyes again.
“Jesus Christ,” said Declan.
“It doesn't mean anything,” said Jenny. “I don't even know if my mom was sane when she wrote that. It means nothing without more information.”
“Fuck, Jen. Do you know what this is?” Declan looked twitchy, like he didn't know what to do with himself.
“Just another way for my family to fuck with me?”
“No,” said Declan. He put his hands on her shoulders. “This is hope, Jenny.” He smiled. “This is fucking hope. You're hope.”
“It's not that simple.”
“It doesn't matter,” said Declan. “It's not the facts that keep us going. It's the promise that things could get better. That there really is someone out there who can help us. That someone is willing to help us. It's the reason there are still so many Righteous. People want to think there's something better.”
“But I don't know what to do!” Jenny blurted out. Declan was so close. The smell of him was hard to ignore. It would be too easy to hurt him. She stepped away from him and his hands fell to his sides. “I don't know what else to do, Declan. My mother is probably dead, none of us know anything about microscopes or science or blood, and everything that was important to me was taken away.”
“I'm not gone, Jen,” said Declan. “I'm right here.”
“But you shouldn't be,” said Jenny. “You don't understand how dangerous it is for you to be around me. I'm going to kill you eventually, Deck. I keep telling you I'm not the same.”
“You think I'm the same?” he said, his voice suddenly gone cold. “I killed a man. I've done things since you left that I never imagined I would do. Bad things. I'm not the same either. We've both taken lives.” Jenny shook her head and Declan frowned. “You have killed people, haven't you?” he said.
“Yes,” she said. She grimaced. “I don't want to tell you about it.”
He smiled. “You can if you want to.” He reached for her hand again.
Jenny was on him in seconds, her hand on his throat, pinning him to the wall. All traces of humor disappeared from his face. There was fear in his eyes as she looked into him.
“Do you see how easy it would be to hurt you?” she whispered. “I lose control for a second and you're dead. Or worse. Don't make this light, do you understand me? It takes every part of me not to kill you.” She let go of him with some effort and stepped away. Declan rubbed his throat. They stood in silence for a long time. At last he spoke.
“This cure your mom talked about,” he said. “Have you considered it might cure you, too?”
“Deck,” Jenny said softly, her chest hurting. “Baby, I'm dead. I can't ever be alive again.”
“I'm sorry,” Jenny said. “We can't ever be together. Not like this.”
“Then make me what you are,” he said.
“What?”
“I don't care how bad it is,” he said. “It can't be worse than living without you. Make me one of you. One of The Thirteen. Can you do it?”
Jenny thought of the rotter in the train car. He had eaten part of her and been changed. The old rotter had been too long dead for it to be anything but tragic, but would it work on a healthier person? Could Declan become like her? They would be together then. For as long as they were still walking around, they would be able to be together. But they would be dead. Both of them.
“No,” she said finally.
“You can't do it, or you won't?” he said.
“Both,” said Jenny. “I don't know. I might know a way, but...”
“Do it!” Declan said, tears filling his eyes. “You have to let me help you. You have to let me be with you. And if this is the only way, then I want you to do it. I want you to kill me.”
“You can't ask me to do this,” she said. “I can't be in this place anymore. I have to go outside.”
She walked hurriedly out through the tunnel, Declan following close behind. When she got in the open air she breathed deeply even though she didn't have to. The cool air tingled in her lungs. Something caught her eye nearby and she froze. Then she looked around at Declan.
“You found it?” she said.
“It was just out of gas,” he said. “I filled it up with diesel and it was good to go.”
“It's not my car,” she said, looking at it sadly. It was the last thing Declan had done for her before she went back to the Underground.
“It's yours,” he said. “You just need a car guy to keep it running.”
“Declan, I can't turn you. Please don't ask me.”
“I know,” he said. “I'm sorry. But you have to let me help you.”
“It's dangerous for you,” she said.
“I'll take the risk.”
Jenny nodded. “Okay. But we have to be careful.”
“I understand,” he said. He raised an eyebrow. “You're planning something, aren't you? This was just your first stop.”
Jenny Undead (The Thirteen: Book One) Page 17
