Zoey watched him as she listened, and she nodded. Her face looked more passive than it had all evening.
Jenny didn’t like any if this at all. She didn’t want Oliver put in such danger. It was already risky, him getting the antidotes.
“If you’re going,” Mecca said to Jenny, “I’m going with you.”
“I’m only driving. I’m not going in.” There was no reason she needed anyone else risking the trip.
“I don’t care. I don’t want you there on your own. No one else can kill one of these thi—people without a bunch of fighting and blood. So I’m going with you.”
Silence descended on the room. Mecca’s brow crinkled as all attention went to her.
“What? You know what I mean. It’s not like I’m a murderer or something.”
Jenny didn’t miss the glance she exchanged with Will, and she wondered what that was about. But she said, “No one thinks you are. If it will make you feel better to ride with us, then you can come. Sara, you said you needed to get something from home?”
“Yeah, but I need a ride, obvs. Don’t have my own wheels here, plus…” She waggled her slinged arm a little bit.
She must have some great drugs onboard to be so cheerful.
“I’ll take you,” Will said. He gave Mecca another pointed expression as he grabbed his bomber jacket. Jenny would have to ask about that too. Will draped the jacket over Sara’s thin shoulders and escorted her out.
Jenny sat in the car with Oliver driving—he knew the way, so Jenny though that would be easiest—and Mecca in the back seat. He’d said the lab wasn’t far, and Jenny thought they’d ride in silence.
So she was surprised when he said, “What do you plan to do with me?”
“Huh? Do with you?”
“Yes. Once this is done. What will you do with me?”
“I didn’t plan on doing anything with you.” She totally didn’t understand this line of questioning. What was she supposed to do with him?
“I’m bound to you now. I’m your anculus.”
“Umm. I was planning on just, y’know, letting you go live your life.” She looked to Mecca for help.
Her best friend shrugged and mouthed, “I have no idea.”
“I don’t really have a life.”
That hung in the air for a while.
Did Visci usually dictate what their people did?
What was she supposed to say?
“All right,” he said, before lapsing into silence. It felt uncomfortable, but Jenny didn’t know what to do to fix it. So she did nothing. And she had no idea whether that was right or wrong.
Oliver had been right about the lab being close by. They’d only been driving another five or six minutes when he pulled into the parking lot of a low, squat, but modern-looking building. The sign in the driveway said “EpiGen Laboratories - Deliveries in back.”
Oliver drove to the back.
“Employee door is here.” There were half a dozen cars in this part of the lot. He reversed into a space that allowed them to face the loading bay, as well as the employee entrance.
“They won’t think it’s weird that you’re coming in at this hour?” Mecca asked. Jenny wondered that same thing.
“No. I’m in and out at all different times. It’ll be fine.” He leaned past Jenny and opened the glove box. Inside, she saw his ID badge with his photo. He grabbed it and slammed the box closed again. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
And before she could say anything else, he was out the door.
They watched him sprint across the lot and swipe his ID at the entrance lock. Then he was gone.
Jenny was actually glad for the alone time with Mecca. She turned in her seat and looked at her best friend. “Why did Will stare at you when you said you weren’t a murderer?”
Mecca’s eyes went wide. “Wh—what do you mean?”
“He looked at you… His face… There was something between you, something he was saying without saying anything.”
Mecca snorted. “Okay, whatever.”
“I’m not kidding around, Mecca. What the hell is going on?”
Mecca stared at her, anger flashing across her expression and disappearing. She frowned and shook her head. “I don’t know. I can’t—I haven’t—” She swore. “It all seemed so simple. And it’s just not anymore.”
“Yeah. But we both had secrets, and we can get through this together.”
Mecca shook her head again. “You don’t get it.”
What was she talking about? “Okay, so tell me.”
Mecca chewed on her lower lip for a moment and stared out the windshield. Finally, she said, “Did my dad say what they wanted me for? Why Emilia kidnapped me in the first place?”
“No. Do you know why?”
“Yes. She told me.”
“Okay?”
“She found out about my Gift. I don’t think she understood it. But she knew it could kill them. And she wanted me to…work for her.”
Jenny scrunched her nose. “Work for her?”
“Yes.” Very pointed.
Jenny felt like she was missing something. “What do you mean?”
Mecca sighed. “She wanted me to kill other Visci for her.”
“What?” Jenny would never have even thought of that. But her mom’s words about how Visci maneuvered and manipulated came back to her. Maybe they’d also kill. She wasn’t sure it would surprise her.
“Yeah. Her whole reason for kidnapping me was to get me to kill for her.”
“That is so crazy.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Then Mecca continued. “When I… When I got away, it felt so easy to hate them all. They were horrible. Emilia, Claude, all of them. They had Will in captivity. Stole me off the street. Who knew what else they’d done? Hating them was so easy.”
It clicked into place. “And then me.”
Mecca met her gaze, her eyes pained and sad. “And then you.”
It all made sense now. Mecca’s reaction to her secret.
“Now I’m not sure what to do.” She fiddled with the edge of her jacket. “I swore I’d kill all of them. But now…” She let out a small frustrated sound.
Jenny wished she could fix it. She couldn’t, because she was a Visci and that would never change. Could never change. “You don’t have to kill anyone, you know.”
Mecca raised her eyes again, and they shimmered with tears, though none fell. Her best friend blinked quickly to clear them. “What do I do if I don’t kill them, though? I mean, how can I live in a world where I know they exist?”
Jenny tried not to take that personally. It wasn’t meant for her. “How do you live in a world where you know serial killers exist? Or rapists? Or people who pirate ebooks, for that matter?” She gave a smile and Mecca responded with a barking laugh. “You just do.”
“I guess.”
Jenny reached back and put her hand on Mecca’s forearm. “It’s not your job to save the world.”
Mecca wrinkled her nose and frowned. Jenny wasn’t sure what that meant.
“I’m not trying to save the world,” she said. It seemed like there was more, but it didn’t come.
And then Oliver opened the door and ducked into the driver’s seat. He held out a hand. On his palm lay two syringe tubes, no needles, marked with identification numbers. “These are the only two I was able to get. They’re the batches we still have antidotes to.”
Jenny grabbed them from him. “You didn’t have any problems, did you?”
He started the car. “Not really. Doctor Blume was there, but I avoided him.”
“And the computer?” Mecca asked from the back seat.
“Yep. No problems there. It was as easy as she said it would be.”
“Great,” Jenny said. “Let’s go.” She looked to see if Mecca was okay, but her friend had settled back in her seat and was looking out the window.
Chapter Thirty: Jenny
When they returned to the apartment, they found Zoey still tend
ing to Jorge, who was awake, but not looking well at all. His normally light brown skin had gone pale. When he looked at her with dull eyes, she had to look away.
Jenny hoped and prayed the liquid in one of the syringes would work. Sara sat at the kitchen island with a laptop open in front of her, an expression of intense concentration on her face as she occasionally typed on the keys.
Jenny didn’t see Will right away. He’d settled in an old brown armchair that had been pushed into a corner of the living room. His gaze jerked up as they entered. He looked directly at Mecca.
“You’re all right?”
“Yes. Nothing happened. We just sat in the car.”
He nodded, and the relief was plain on his face. Jenny didn’t understand their relationship. She didn’t know who he was to Mecca, and she really didn’t know who Mecca was to him.
“You got it?” Zoey asked, coming toward Oliver.
“They’re here,” Jenny said, holding out the two plastic tubes.
Zoey snatched them from her and disappeared behind one of the bedroom doors. Jenny glanced around the room at the puzzled faces—except Sara, who was still nosed in her computer—and followed Zoey.
After stepping through the door, she paused. Now she got why the living room was a bedroom. Zoey had converted this space into a small lab. Tables lined three walls, two with equipment Jenny wouldn’t have been able to identify if her life depended on it. The third housed two large monitors with a laptop between them. All the screens were dark.
It reminded her of something out of those CSI shows, only nothing gleamed in the light. The equipment looked old, tired, but it was all still clearly functional. Jenny couldn’t imagine Zoey keeping anything around that didn’t work.
Zoey’s gaze didn’t move from her task: squeezing a tiny amount from each syringe into separate small vials. Without looking up, she said, “You shouldn’t be in here.”
“Wow, Zoey. What the hell is all this for?”
“None of your business. Go back out there.”
Jenny ignored her, approaching one of the work tables. A very fancy microscope—much more involved than any she’d used in science classes—took up a good portion of the first tabletop. As she ran a fingertip along the edge of the platform, Zoey looked up.
“I said get out.”
“Not til you tell me what you’re doing in here.”
Zoey sighed dramatically. “I’m taking samples from each of these. I want to reverse engineer them. Anything common between them could lead me to whatever compound they’re using to create this…whatever it is.”
“Cool. But I really meant all of this.” She waved a hand at the equipment.
“I already told you that,” Zoey said, going back to labeling the vials. “None of your business.”
Jenny couldn’t imagine what Zoey would be cooking that required her to turn her bedroom into something that looked like it belonged in some research facility in Switzerland. She wondered how much more about Zoey was this surprising.
And then she wondered whether Zoey had been telling the truth about there not being a civil war. Suspicion curled its way into her mind.
“Does Jorge know you have all this?” she asked.
Zoey paused again, looking at her as if Jenny was the stupidest person she’d ever seen. “Seriously? You think he could live here, with me sleeping in the living room, and not know what I have in here?” She rolled her eyes and shook her head, which made Jenny feel like the stupidest person she’d ever seen.
“Yeah, okay. What about Helen?”
“Would you get out already?” She opened a dorm-sized refrigerator that Jenny hadn’t seen underneath the computer table and dropped the vials into a small plastic box inside. Then she hustled Jenny out, following close, and slammed the door behind them.
They both went back to where Jorge lay. Jenny hadn’t noticed Zoey grab needles, but she obviously had, since she began attaching one to the syringes. Zoey looked at Oliver. “These are dated. I assume the most recent is the last iteration of the virus?”
He nodded. “They may not—”
“I know. You said.” She slid the needle into Jorge’s arm and pushed the plunger faster than Jenny would have expected.
“You didn’t clean his arm before you did that,” Mecca said.
Zoey gave her what Jenny was starting to think of has her Patented “You’re an Idiot” Look.
“She doesn’t have to,” Will said quietly from his chair. “Germs don’t affect them, particularly. Getting the antidote into his vein before his skin heals is more important.”
Jenny hadn’t thought of that, though she should have, after her experience with the knife earlier.
Zoey yanked the needle from his arm. He gave her a weak smile.
“It’s going to be fine,” Jorge said, his voice breathy.
Zoey’s face was an unreadable mask, but she nodded. “Yeah.” After a long moment, she looked at Oliver. “How long will this take?”
“It should be noticeable quickly, though he’ll probably still feel bad for a while.”
They waited, watching him. The only sound in the room was the occasional clack of Sara’s keyboard. Jenny didn’t think Sara had any idea what was happening on this side of the room.
Five minutes ticked by. Zoey asked, “Is it any better?”
Jorge shrugged. “I can’t tell. Let me try to stand up.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m really weak and a little nauseous. But I’ve been feeling that way since I woke up. Here, help me.” He’d pulled back the light blanket that covered his legs and torso, and now he held an arm out to Zoey. She steadied him as he used her to get to his feet.
Everyone watched as he swayed. It looked as if he was going to take a step, but then he shook his head and fell back onto the thin mattress.
“No. That’s not working.” A thin, pink-cast sweat had erupted on his forehead.
Jenny tried not to let his reaction crush her hope. But when she glanced at Oliver, his face did it. He met her gaze and gave a tiny frown. Jenny moved to where he stood not far from Will and Mecca, who also both watched silently.
“If he isn’t feeling any change at all, it’s not working,” he whispered.
“I can hear you,” Zoey said.
Oliver sighed. “Well, then you heard me.”
“I’m going to try the second one, okay?” Zoey moved her attention to Jorge who gave her a nod.
“Will that be safe?” Jenny asked Oliver.
He didn’t respond immediately, only looked at her. He said, “It will be safer than dying.”
Jenny closed her eyes and sighed. Dread set up camp in her belly, like a knot of curdled milk. What would happen if he died?
Zoey must have heard their conversation this time too, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she’d busied herself in getting the next injection into Jorge, who sat without moving right where he’d dropped.
Eyes closed, he didn’t make any sound when the needle jabbed into his arm and Zoey smashed the plunger. She pulled it out just as quickly and looked at Jorge with an expectant gaze. They all did, really. Well, except Sara, who was still occupied with her computer.
Jorge didn’t do anything. He sat there, sweating blood, and remained silent.
After a bit, Jenny sighed and looked away. It wasn’t working. It wasn’t going to work. Jorge would die. Rage and grief welled in her. She balled her hands into fists. How had this fucking happened?
“Umm…guys?” Sara looked up from her computer. “This may not be the best time, but there’s a problem.”
Oliver rushed over. “Did they find you in the system?”
She held up a hand to slow him. “No, no. I told you. They won’t know I’m there. The problem is that there is no information about the poison or the antidotes anywhere that I can find. Everything seems to be done by identifying number, but what the numbers identify isn’t here.”
“They’re probably on Doctor Blume’s computer,�
� he said.
“Yep, and that was my next point. There’s a firewalled section of the system.”
“I thought the whole thing was firewalled?” Mecca asked.
“It is, but…” Sara pursed her lips and began again. “Imagine you’re walking down a hall. There’s a door at the end, but when you open it, it’s bricked over. So you’re positive there’s a room or something back there, because there’s a passageway to it. But you can’t get into the room at all. That’s what I’m seeing, basically. I can see a path, but I can’t get to the room.”
“Can’t you break into it?” Mecca asked, as if she entirely expected Sara to be able to do anything.
Sara stared at the computer screen for a moment and shook her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, maybe, if I had a couple weeks and some fantastic, expensive software. But like this? No. And, I’ll admit, that’s kinda weird for me.”
“So what does that mean?” Jenny asked, glancing at Jorge and Zoey. She’d eased him back to lying down. He didn’t look any better.
Sara shrugged. “I mean, if I could get to this machine, I’m sure I could find something. There’s a reason it’s walled off.”
Oliver had stayed silent the entire time, and Jenny realized he’d slowly backed up so he was flush with the wall, as if he were trying to meld into it. She turned to him directly. “You knew this.”
“I told you we didn’t have anything specific in our files. I told you that.” His voice had gone high-pitched.
Did he think she would hurt him over this?
Will stood, finally, from the recliner. “Oliver, can you get us into his office?”
Oliver shook his head, looking adamant. And terrified. “Only Doctor Blume has access. There’s an eye scanner and a keycard. No way I can get past that.” He put this final bit in a whisper. “He’d kill me.”
Zoey said, “You’re dead, anyway.”
They swung their gazes to her, and she glanced up, as if this were the most normal thing to say. “If Jorge dies, I’m killing you,” she said, quietly, calmly.
“No,” Jorge croaked, “you’re not. He hasn’t done anything wrong, and he’s tried to help. It’s not his fault none of this works.”
Visci (Soul Cavern Series Book 2) Page 19
