In the End
Page 12
“Let’s go down to congratulate—” I begin to say, until I see who has just stepped into the circle.
Tank places a hand on one side of his head and cracks his neck, then repeats it on the other side.
“We don’t have to watch this,” Jacks tells me, starting to get up.
“No, I want to.” I need to see what Tank can do.
This time when the Warden makes an announcement, a hush falls over the crowd. I missed the first fighter’s name, but I hear what the Warden says next, loud and clear: “The undefeated, Tank Laaaaaawson!”
When the Warden fires his gun, Tank charges across the circle in two blurred steps and backhands his opponent across the face. Now he dances back, grinning like an evil little kid who’s misbehaved. The man roars and rushes Tank, who spins him easily into a headlock and goes to work on his face with his free fist.
Tank’s fight lasts longer than Brenna’s only because he toys with his opponent, methodically hammering away at his face under his massive arm, then freeing him to stagger back a step or two before reeling him back in for more. Finally Tank grows bored of toying with the man and lets him drop, giving him a long look as he sprawls there coughing up blood, and spitting on him before leaving the circle.
I try to swallow, but my mouth has gone dry. The first two fights were at least even. Tank demolished that man.
I elbow Jacks. “Can we go now?”
“Yeah, I’ve been seen. We can leave.” We make our way down the bleachers to the gate that leads to the Yard.
“You okay?” Jacks asks.
“Yeah.” I try to get through the gateway, but someone blocks my path.
“Hey there, cupcake.” Tank. Of course—he picked me out of the crowd. Was he waiting for me to come this way, or is it just bad luck? “Come to see me win?”
Tank is drenched in sweat, and he hasn’t even bothered to wipe the blood from his hands. I take some satisfaction that his face is still bruised from where I hit his nose, even if the swelling has gone down.
Jacks begins to put his arm around me protectively, but I shake him off. I make myself stare into Tank’s cold, dark eyes. “Get out of the way,” I tell him, keeping my voice steady. “Or I will hurt you again,” I stress.
“Sure, no problem,” he says, bowing. “Here, princess, step this way.”
I walk past him, careful not to come within arm’s reach. I’m grateful that Jacks walks at my side, between me and Tank. Jacks mutters, “Douchebag,” loud enough for Tank to hear.
We get ten feet into the exercise yard when I hear a woman’s voice in my ear. “Amy!” It’s so loud that I think whoever said it is right behind me. I whirl around but can’t find whoever called for me. I hear my name again, but it’s much farther away, Brenna screaming after us from the chain-link fence of the Arena. Maybe my sound amplifier is malfunctioning?
I wave to Brenna, and she calls, “Did you see me kick that guy’s ass?” I nod and give her a thumbs-up.
“Amy!” Again the voice is in my ear, but it’s not Brenna who says it. “Are you there? Get somewhere you can talk.”
My heart seizes in my chest. It’s Kay. Kay. I look up at Jacks. “I need to go back to our cell. Now.”
“What? Why? Listen, don’t let Tank freak you out.”
“No, that’s not . . . Yes. Yeah, I just need to rest.” Jacks nods and takes my hand, leading me toward the cellblock. When we get there I stop and release his hand. “Look, I think I just want to be by myself for a little while.”
He looks at me, as though deciding if I should be left alone, then says, “Okay. I’ll go check in with Doc. He might need me to take care of a few things, but I’ll be back soon.”
I run up the stairs and rush to our cell. The cells on either side of me are empty—everyone’s gone to the fights.
I hop up on the top bunk and whisper, “Kay . . . are you there?”
After ten minutes, she still hasn’t responded. I know I heard Kay’s voice. She tried to contact me. I wonder when she’ll try again and if I’ll have enough time before anyone comes back.
“Sunshine?” Kay’s voice is again in my ear. After being called sweetheart, cupcake, princess, and a bunch of other non-flattering things, Kay’s nickname for me lights me up.
“Yes,” I say excitedly, then remember to keep my voice low. “I’m here. I can talk.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t contact you again sooner,” she tells me hurriedly. “Gareth is on lookout, watching out for his spies, but you never know who’s listening.”
“Tell me—”I stop myself from blurting out questions about Baby and force myself to let Kay talk.
“Are you okay, Amy?” Kay asks, her voice low. “Are you surviving that place? Did you talk to Ken?”
“I’m fine,” I say hurriedly. “But I haven’t found Ken yet. I thought I saw him a couple of times, but he disappeared into a part of the prison I couldn’t follow him into.” I rip Jacks’s sketch out of my pack. “Does he have a mole on his left cheek, just below his eye?”
“Looks like a heart?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s him. Funny. I used to tease him about it. It’s good to know he’s alive. I’ve been out of contact with him for months, since before we broke you out. I was worried—about both if you.” She sighs. “All I know is that he was sent to Fort Black to work on his research. But it was good that you didn’t follow him into a restricted area. I don’t want either of you getting into trouble. Dr. Reynolds has spies everywhere.”
At the mention of Dr. Reynolds, my chest goes cold. “Is Dr. Reynolds in charge of Fort Black, too?”
“No, but they’re connected. I don’t know it all—I’m not a researcher. I don’t have the clearance to view medical records. Wait . . .” Kay cuts out, only to return a few seconds later. “False alarm.” She pauses again. “Look, thing are getting worse with Baby. They’ve moved her from the dorm to the lab. Rice says they’re taking too much blood, and she’s developed a heart arrhythmia. He’s really afraid for her life. Rice fears her heart may give out . . . and if her heart holds out, she could suffer long-term brain damage.”
Fear, cold as ice, runs through every nerve and vein. “But she’s important to their research,” I protest. “They won’t kill her, will they?”
“Not on purpose. But Rice is concerned. . . . There are so many complications from blood loss—”
“I’ll come back,” I cut her off. “I’ll leave right now.”
“Amy, don’t be stupid. You’ll never get in, and you’ll wind up dead. What good will you be to Baby then?”
“But—”
“No. Just find Ken. He has clearance I don’t. He has access to New Hope research, to New Hope test subjects. I’ve already told you: If you want to get Baby out, Ken can do that. He’s really the only way. You just have to convince him to take Baby as his own subject.”
“Are you sure?”
There’s a long pause. “No . . . I haven’t been able to contact him. Gareth has been hacking the system so I can briefly speak with you. . . . But the researchers are on a different circuit. It’s too risky for me to try.”
I know Kay wants me find her brother, but I can’t put all my hope in a man I can’t find.
“Maybe Rice can get Baby,” I try. “He would have the right clearance, and Dr. Reynolds’s trust.”
“I’ve talked to him. A couple of times. The longest conversation lasted about thirty seconds. He used his earpiece to relay information to me when he knew neither of us was being monitored, just like I’m doing for you. Do you know the risk he was taking? I don’t know when we’ll be able to speak again. He’s scared too, Amy. He wanted me to tell you to be strong and patient.”
Be strong and patient. Just like when I was in the Ward. I’m filled with something recently unfamiliar—reassurance. Rice came through for me once. I have to believe he can do it again.
“Find Ken,” Kay says. “He’ll have access to information I don’t. He can give you a bett
er idea of how Baby is, of how to get her out. Do you understand?”
I want to go. I want to be doing something. But she’s right. This is my only option.
“Okay.”
“Just be careful.”
“I will,” I promise.
“If . . . When you find him, he may not trust you. Tell him that you’re my friend. And then tell him this. Tell him ‘Ted doesn’t need you.’ He’ll know what it means. He’ll know I sent you.”
My earpiece goes dead. “Kay?” I whisper. “Kay . . . are you still there?”
After a few long seconds her voice cuts back in. “Gareth is telling me I have to go.”
“Wait . . . what about my mother? What about Adam? Are they safe?”
There’s a long pause, and I thinks she’s cut out, but I hear a sigh and before she’s gone for good, she responds.
“Sunshine, no one is safe.”
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I try to wait for Jacks to return, but after a few minutes of pacing I decide to go find him. Maybe he can get me into the back wall somehow, or he can ask Doc to help. I double-check my weapons and am about to leave when Jacks appears.
“Hey, I just came to see if you needed anything.” He looks me over. “Are you okay?”
I cross my arms and try to rub the cold from them. “No.”
He doesn’t say anything, just waits for me to go on.
“Baby . . . uh, my sister. She’s really in trouble.”
“How could you know that?”
“I . . .” I close my eyes, trying to think. “I didn’t tell you everything. I wanted to, but I wasn’t sure I could trust you.”
Jacks puts his arms on my shoulders and makes me sit on the bottom bunk. I think he’s going to sit next to me, but instead he pulls up a chair.
“Tell me.”
And so I tell him everything. About Dr. Reynolds and my mother. About how I found out about the Floraes and how New Hope doesn’t want anyone to know they were the ones who created them. How I was put in the Ward, and Kay helped me escape. I tell him about my earpiece and what Kay told me. I tell him about Ken and how he worked for Hutsen-Prime. How he might be able to access information about Baby—
“Wait. Hutsen-Prime?” Jacks cuts in.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Amy, Doc has Hutsen-Prime boxes in his office. I thought they were a chemical company or something. It’s where the flu shots come from.”
It takes a minute for it to sink in. “They have to be from New Hope. And if Doc is working with New Hope, he’s probably working with Dr. Reynolds. . . . But that also mean he’ll know where Ken is.” I look up at Jacks. “We have to go see Doc.”
“You think Doc is . . . what, like a spy or something?” He looks incredulous.
“I don’t know what Doc is, but if he’s injecting people with something from New Hope, I doubt it’s a flu shot. If Ken is working on a vaccine, maybe Doc is testing it.” I look down and see I’m clenching and unclenching my fists. Anger, fear, hope, love—all tossing around inside of me. I try to calm myself. Doc isn’t Dr. Reynolds. . . . But my rage flairs when I think of all the damage Dr. Reynolds has done. If Doc is helping him, he’s just as guilty. “I need to find out what Doc knows.”
“How?” Jacks asks, his voice heavy with concern. “How are you going to find that out?”
I stand, my hand going to the Guardian gun at my hip. “Any way I have to.”
“Whoa, Amy. Let’s take this down a notch. I’m sure Doc will tell us if we just ask him. You need a second to calm down.”
“Jacks, every second could count.”
“I get that. Just”—he takes a breath—“just don’t hurt Doc.”
I stare at him for a moment, remembering that Doc is Jacks’s father. “Fine,” I say, nodding once.
I spring into action, and we’re out of the cell, Jacks hurrying to catch up with me. But as we rush down the stairs and out of the cellblock, something’s bothering me.
“Your father really didn’t tell you anything about New Hope or Hutsen-Prime?” I whisper.
He shakes his head as we enter the exercise yard and make our way through the makeshift shelters. “Amy, as far as I know, my father was a second-rate doctor who blew his career and his marriage because he couldn’t stop popping pills. The only one who would give him a job was my uncle.”
We’re at the front wall now. Jacks grabs my arm and looks into my eyes. “He’s a loser, Amy. He can barely keep his shit together. I doubt he’s part of some crazy conspiracy.”
I think about my mother, her part in New Hope and creating the bacteria that caused the Florae infection. I think about Rice, all his secrets, many I still didn’t know. “You can’t know someone completely,” I say. “Not truly.”
He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, then leads me through a side door and straight to Doc’s office.
Doc’s sitting at his desk, looking over papers while chewing on a pen. When he hears us, he looks up.
“Jacks,” he says, pleased. “I didn’t know you’d be in today.” His eyes flick to me, and his expression changes from genuine happiness to feigned delight. “Amy. Hi there. Have you changed your mind about the flu shot?”
That’s all it takes. His phony smile, his false upbeat voice. For a second I see Dr. Reynolds, not Doc, sitting in his chair. I walk over to him, spin his chair around, and pull out my knife.
“I know you’re working with New Hope.” I push the blade to his neck. “And you are going to tell me everything that I want to know.”
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CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Amy!” Jacks screams, his hand gripping my shoulder firmly. “Amy. Let me ask him,” he says firmly.
“Jacks, I have to know.”
“And we’ll ask him. But you need to calm down.”
I back off slowly, dropping my knife to my side, and step back.
“Wh-what is this about?” Doc asks Jacks quietly, his face white.
“Amy has been telling me some things,” Jacks says, his voice even. “Things about you and a place called New Hope.” Doc’s eyes flick over to me, and he looks nervous. “I hear those flu shots might actually be something else.”
Even though we have no proof, just my assumptions, Jacks sounds confident, as if he’s completely sure of what he’s saying. The power in his voice is impressive. As Jacks talks, Doc tries to look unaffected, but he begins to shift nervously in his chair.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says with a tight, pinched face.
“Doc.” Jacks leans in. “Dad.” The word is strained coming from Jacks’s mouth, but it has the desired effect. Doc’s eyes study Jacks’s face, his expression conflicted. Jacks continues in his soothing voice, “There’s no reason to keep secrets from me.”
My fingers twitch around the hilt of my knife, and Doc’s eyes flick to it. “Tell us,” I snap, unable control my tone.
“Well . . .”He shrugs, unable to meet Jacks’s gaze. “You seem to already know most of it anyway. New Hope sends me the vaccine, and I give it to the people here, tell them it’s a flu shot. Then we see if it works.”
He says this all so nonchalantly, as if the fact that Dr. Reynolds is using Fort Black as his personal laboratory is nothing at all. I’d thought Ken was sent to study the people here, but it’s far worse—they’re using the people as lab rats.
I push aside my horror. “How do you know if it works?” I manage to ask. “Most people stay behind the walls.”
“Most, but not all. Sometimes we’ll get a Scrapper who’s been bitten or one of the men who clean up the Florae bodies or someone on garbage duty.” Another little shrug. “Sometimes I have to creat
e situations in which to test the effectiveness.”
Before I can ask what he means, he moves to stand up. My knife rises with him, and then his hands come up too. “I just want to show you,” he says. He goes to the cabinet and retrieves a paper. “Here, look.” He shoves the paper at me. I glance at it. At the top is typed F1T13. Under that are a lot of chemical names I don’t understand, followed by instructions to remove the site of infection if a patient becomes exposed to a Florae’s bodily fluid.
“Harmless,” he says, as if the meaning of what I’m looking at should be obvious to me. “Jacks, you yourself kept records for me.”
Jacks glances at me. “Amy, I swear I didn’t know.” He looks back to Doc, with a look of realization on his face. “I was injected with that F1T13 thing . . . and a bunch of shots before that. What about side effects? And all those women who died last year?”
“That was . . . regrettable.”
After an empty moment, I repeat the word. “Regrettable?”
Doc sits back down. No shrug this time, at least. He plays with his ear nervously. “New Hope sent me a fertility drug to test on the women. I was unprepared for the strength of the adverse reaction. So many died. . . . I had no way of knowing that a side effect would be a high risk of hypertension. As soon as I saw the increase in deaths caused by heart attack and stroke, I discontinued the study.”
“You wouldn’t do something like this. . . .”Jacks’s face betrays his horror. I know what he’s feeling. I felt that way when I found out what my mother had done, what she had created. Jacks backs away, reaching behind him for something to steady himself on.
I reach out and take Jacks’s hand. “You’re responsible for their deaths,” I say to Doc.
“No. No,” Doc protests. “I’m just the observer, the middleman. I get the medicine and instructions. Give this batch to women, give this batch to children. Give the potential Florae vaccine to everyone.”
“You gave that shit to me,” Jacks says, unbelieving.
“Yes, but the Florae vaccine’s only side effect seems to be an increased tendency toward violence.”