by Cass Kim
Her brain processed the sound of snapping branches and staggered steps with enough time for her to dump her armful of toiletries to the ground and scream a wordless warning of terror as the Wilder plowed into the group.
Jeremy stumbled sideways, his armload of alcohol swabs and protein powder scattering across the forest floor. The Wilder, hair sticking up in blood-soaked spikes, one eye socket a puffy mess, missed hitting Emerson by a fraction, flopping over the cooler and onto the ground.
Wasting no motions, Yvette hauled up a foot and slammed it into the Wilder’s head, three, four, sickening thumps and then a wet, crunching sound. The body flopped, went still. Jeremy gagged but did not vomit. Alyssa chalked up a little more bravery to him as she swallowed her own bile. Did anybody ever get used to seeing death?
Before anybody could move to pick up the dropped items, Andre held up a hand, head cocked toward the path behind them.
The snow swirling down damped sound, but with the Wilder’s cue, Alyssa heard branches breaking.
“More.” Andre dropped his end of the cooler and edged around Jeremy’s form, frozen in the act of reaching for the spilled boxes of medical supplies.
Emerson snapped his gaze from the dead Wilder at his feet to the forest behind them. Grimacing, he put both hands up in a ‘wait’ gesture to Alyssa and pulled the knife from its sheath at his side, skirting around them, to crouch in a fighting stance between them and the danger bursting through the trees.
Alyssa found herself terrified not just of the impending violence, but at the thought Emerson could die, or be injured. With the constant snowfall, their path back to the town was well covered. They were still two or three day’s hard travel from the camp. And that was an estimate based on taking the most direct route. And knowing where you were going. Neither of which Alyssa or Jeremy had any clue about.
The other Wilders streamed deeper into the woods, meeting the approaching threat.
The snow and trees made it hard to see who was winning or how many scary Wilders there were in the moonlight.
Where had they come from?
Suddenly the idea of the Wilders, particularly Emerson, protecting the humans seemed ludicrous. She and Jeremy would die out there, frozen and lost. They’d barely be able to carry any supplies.
Alyssa scanned the area for a weapon, curling and uncurling her fists. As the horde inched closer, Andre bounced from fight to fight, engaging each Wilder as it broke away and forward, each intercept closer than the last. If Alyssa didn’t know better, if it weren’t so impossible, she’d would think they were working together to get to herself and Jeremy. Almost like they could sense their humanness.
A large stick laid a few feet ahead, and Alyssa ran to it, yanking it from the snow. After testing how sturdy it was by jabbing the ground, she handed it to Jeremy and searched for another.
The shadows shoved and hit from mere feet away, their grunts and thuds now chillingly clear. Straining, Alyssa couldn’t see Andre’s bulky form bouncing between fights anymore.
Remembering how Jackson ended the fight a few days before, Alyssa considered shouting for him. He should have already made his circuit back by now. Where was he?
Emerson dashed out and whipped his knife across the back of a Wilder’s leg, collapsing the limb through a cut hamstring. He rolled the flailing Wilder over roughly, plunged the knife, into its airway, and twisted before pulling it out.
She wanted to look away, but fear kept her gaze glued to the battle. Any moment now one could break toward her. She grabbed the largest jug of water, gripping it with both hands, and readied to swing it like a bat. It was the best she could do. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, Alyssa squinted hard through the snow, jaw clenched.
Light footsteps sped through the woods behind her. She wound up and arced the jug at the racing form.
Recognizing Shelly at the last moment, Alyssa checked her swing, and the Wilder tore past and into the fray, ferociously fighting toward her sister.
Moments passed like years, each one longer than the next. The snow had stopped, but it was impossible to track the movement in the darkness, to know which bark of pain belonged to whom. The thunks and groans, wet grunts of agony and thump of flesh connecting with flesh slowed, then faded. A gurgling keening rose above the ragged sound of heavy breathing. It cut off abruptly. Then the forms of the camp Wilders slunk back from the fight.
Emerson limped a bit. Shelly propped Kina up against her side, hugging her close to support her. Andre covered his face with one hand, blood sheeting down between fingers. Yvette didn’t follow.
“Where’s Yvette?” Alyssa’s voice came out high with tension.
Emerson shook his head, face grim in the moonlight filtering in through parted cloud cover.
Andre reached down and packed snow into his hand before pressing it hard into his forehead.
Shelly settled Kina onto the top of a cooler and tugged her torn pants up, boot off, before twisting open an alcohol bottle and pouring it over her sister’s mangled calf.
Jeremy plopped into the snow, uncaring of the cold wetness seeping into his jeans and putting him at risk for hypothermia as the night grew colder.
Lowering the water jug to her side, Alyssa didn’t know what to say. It was hard to tell how close any of the Wilders were. But they’d all known one another for years at this point, isolated out in the camp, different for the majority of society. The loss of Yvette, the depth of their injuries. How would they all continue to the camp like this?
“Has anybody seen Jackson?” Emerson’s soft words cut through the night, reminding Alyssa of her earlier concern. One by one, heads shook.
Emerson nodded, a small, slow tip of his chin. “I’ll look. You guys get patched up and ready to move. If it’s this dangerous out here, I can’t imagine it’s any safer in the camp. And half their Wilders are here.” Wanting to go too, Alyssa watched him lope off into the woods. She’d only slow him down. Instead, she made herself useful digging through packs for shirts to use as bandages and pulling out mugs to pour water into. They would all need to hydrate, and now was as good a time as any.
Emerson came back, limping slowly through the woods, shoulders slumped. At the questioning gazes he shook his head. Alyssa thought a tear glimmered cheek before he leaned down to repack the coolers, securing things in place.
“We’ll take turns on the cooler handles. Kina, you focus on keeping up. If we can keep a reasonable pace we can be there in two days. Let’s make it happen.”
Alyssa leaned down to grab the other handle, trying to pretend that the world wasn’t in the process of ending. Trying to convince herself there was still hope. They’d make it back to the camp, and everything would work out. It was the only possibility she would allow herself to believe in.
28
Renna
The gel on her stomach was cold, goopy, and generally unpleasant. The wand pressed into the gel was worse. Using the sound waves of the ultrasound, according to Royce Algin, who was standing near the monitor, hands folded behind his back, was much gentler on her overactive synapses than an MRI or CT scan would have been. Not that they had any such machines at their disposal here, he’d sneered.
Now, though, he was too engrossed in directing the woman holding the wand, to give Renna a commentary. “No, you need to press it down a little harder. I need a clear picture.” Voice tight with exasperation, he grabbed the wrist of the woman, and pushed it around. “Like this. See that? That tells me she did not urinate before this test like I told you she had to.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I promise I took her to the lavatory.”
Royce frowned at the woman, though no lines formed around his mouth when he did it. “The lavatory? Did we bring flight attendants out here with us now? Is that why you are so unbelievably inept?” He brushed her away with a fluttery gesture and leaned over Renna. “I will send you the restroom. You will empty your bladder completely. Then you’ll stand up, sit down and try again. I do not have time to play aroun
d here. We are on a tight deadline that is getting tighter by the minute thanks to unpredicted viral mutations.”
Renna, torn between the urge to spit in his unnaturally smooth face or laugh at how perfectly Syd’s plan was working, pressed her lips together and nodded obediently. She moved with intentional winces and slow, shaky movements when the straps around her wrists and ankles were unbound.
Syd, who Renna knew was waiting outside the door and listening, darted in, panting as if out of breath. “Sir, I just got back from the lab where we were analyzing the results from serum for the aggression. I think you need to see them right away! You are amazing. Pure genius work.” In truth, Syd had gotten the results a few hours ago, right before she arrived at Renna’s tent with a plan. She genuinely had been excited and worked up about the serum, which had been altered by Dr. Kim and was working in Benjamin’s system. He’d been sleeping, but Syd had snuck Renna right up next to him with no adverse reactions. He hadn’t been drugged, either. Just really tired. He’d always been a deep sleeper.
Sneaking out of her tent and back in had been the most terrifying thing Renna had done. Until now. They had to pull off this plan perfectly to get both Dr.’s Kim and Benjamin out with them. With the information on the virus. And with the current new research that would speed up the production of a safe and effective vaccine. They would be taking the formula for the altered vaccine with them.
Royce Algin paused, looking hard at Syd before nodding once. “Your timing is impeccable. I will take a quick moment there and get an overview while you escort my prized creature here to the restroom.” Something in his eyes as he watched Syd walk over and grip her arm turned Renna’s stomach to ice. They were cold, studious. As if he was seeing more than they wanted him too.
Telling herself it was just nerves, Renna forced her gaze to the ground, playing her role of meek and subdued as Syd lead her across the tent floor and to the exit.
They were almost out of the tent when he called to them, “Do not take too long. I would hate to have to send someone to retrieve you.”
Syd yanked harder at her arm, dragging her away from the tent before hissing, “He doesn’t know anything. This changes nothing. Dr. Kim will keep him distracted for at least fifteen minutes talking about the serum. He has this whole made-up lecture he made me sit through half of before I told him I had to go.”
Renna nodded, stumbling along behind Sydney, playing up her weakness. They would have to keep this up until they were out of sight, in the restroom. Then, Syd would split off to where Soo Kim would be with Benjamin, ready to flee. She’d give them the signal and make her way to the storage tent to copy as many files as she could until Renna’s distraction was loud enough that she and Dr. Kim could slip away and join Soo and Benjamin.
Renna’s job was simple. She would release the remaining Wilders from their group tent, then dart into the small slit Syd had made in the back Royce’s cushy personal tent, filled with plush blankets and his current research notes. Notes that Syd had copied down page by page throughout his stay here.
Once inside, Renna would dump the vial of gasoline Syd hid in the snow at the tent’s edge all over the plush blankets and pages of notes. She’d set fire to his private world here. Then she’d run, with Wilder speed, as far from camp as she could.
They would all meet up on the trail leading to town, a mile from camp. From there, their direction would depend on the number of soldiers and the paths they took. Renna had never taken part in an escape before, but the plan seemed solid to her. They just had to get where they each needed to be, and then get out.
Syd led her into the portapotty, wrinkling her nose at the smell. “Any last minute questions?” The older girl’s face was serious, brows drawn down in tension.
“Are you sure you can get out once you grab the information?”
“Yeah, the second you set fire to his stuff and it gets noticed, the entire camp will be there to put it out. That pompous ass will practically die at the loss of his personal items.”
“What about your mom?” Renna realized they hadn’t specifically talked about getting Dr. Quick out earlier.
“Oh, nah she’s good. She knows where to meet us, and she’s not in any kind of locked down or heavily guarded area. As soon as the flames go up, she’s out.”
Renna nodded tightly. “Okay.”
“Are you ready? Feelin’ strong and fast?”
“As good as it’s going to get.” Renna rolled her shoulders out, tied her hair up, and pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over it. “But first, I really do need to pee.”
29
Alyssa
They’d been walking so long her legs didn’t feel like a part of her body anymore. Emerson was setting a non-stop pace, breaking only long enough for everybody to gulp water, eat a snack, and check wounds. Then, they switched positions, so that their other arms were holding the cooler handles for next few miles and continued on. This repeated through the night, and well into the next morning.
To Kina and Andre’s credit, neither uttered a word of complaint, and both somehow kept pace with the group. If she’d ever doubted the depth of feeling the more wild of the Wilders had, the look on Shelly’s face each time she looked at her sister’s leg erased it.
When Emerson held up a fist near a gnarled old Oak tree, Alyssa dropped the cooler to the ground gratefully and flopped hard next to it. Her legs were so numb, a little wet snow melted into her jeans would make no difference in her misery. Jeremy flopped down next to her, too tired to whine anymore. Watching with heavy lidded eyes, it took Alyssa a moment to figure out what the heck Emerson was doing when he walked up to the old Oak and reached a hand into the large open knot just above his head.
Even after he’d pulled out the wax envelope encased note and re-read it twice, looking hard at the words and then frowning at the others, she didn’t register that something else was going terribly wrong.
He cleared his throat before saying, “Syd left me a note about the camp.”
Alyssa, even more unfiltered than usual interrupted, “But how she get it in there? She must had to jump pretty high. Girl is short.”
Emerson paused, craning his neck over his shoulder before shrugging. “Yeah, I guess I never thought about that before.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “I don’t know how to explain this, so I’m just going to say it.” He looked down at the letter again, eyes scanning across the looping script. “The camp has been invaded. By people claiming to be the government. But, they’re not the government. And they are dangerous.” He paused as if waiting for questions. When nothing met him but shocked silence, he continued, “We can’t go back to the camp.”
“Where are we supposed to go? Is there some other secret place out here we can hide in?” Jeremy muttered under his breath, only loud enough for Alyssa to hear.
Kina was softly crying, probably terrified of dying out here from infection or blood loss. Andre’s shoulders slumped forward, but he kept his head up.
Wrapping her arms around Kina, Shelly looked at Emerson expectantly. “What now?”
Abstractly, part of Alyssa registered how unfair it was for all of this to be on Emerson’s shoulders. He was barely older than her. They were all just kids. Well, kids and Wilder experiment adults with questionable ability to reason at the highest levels. Mostly, though, she was exhausted, wet, every part of her body was aching. There was no rest in sight. On top of that, now she had to worry about what was happening at the camp, if Renna and the others were safe. According to Emerson, Syd’s note said the people at the camp were dangerous. Knowing Syd’s hatred for hiking, she doubted she’d taken a two- or three-hour trip from camp to warn them without good reason.
Emerson was staring silently at the letter, full lips pressed into a grim line. At last he said, “If the people there are pretending to be the government, but Syd is certain they’re not…then I guess our next option is to find the government.”
“What, you want us to just wander in the woods look
ing for these government people that still haven’t made it to the camp?” Alyssa tried to stop the bitter flood of words dropping out of her mouth, but her self-control was at an all-time low. “They could be anywhere! That’s like looking for a needle in a haystack in these woods.”
“Exactly.” Emerson’s sunglasses hid his eyes but not the combination of fear and determination warring on his face. “That’s why we have to go where we know a branch of the government will be. We have to go to the quarantine lines.”
“Are you insane?” Alyssa whipped her head around, looking at Andre and Shelly to see their reaction. There was no way the government would look at them, especially as dirty and disheveled as all of them were now, and not kill the Wilders on sight. Even if Emerson kept his sunglasses on, at some point they’d have to come off. And the way the others moved would be a dead giveaway. To her surprise both remained standing still, faces blank of expression.
“It’s the only way we can get help for the camp.” Emerson ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “If we don’t go, we’re saying everything we’ve sacrificed for isn’t worth one last effort. And those people in there. They’re family. Literally, in my case, but they’re also all these guys have left.” The others nodded once, jerky.
“Personally, I don’t care what the rest of you are doing. I’m in. I need to get somewhere warm, with a hot shower. Somewhere safe.” Jeremy’s bravado faded toward the end. Taking in his pale face and the slight shake in his hands, Alyssa bit back a snippy comment.
Ignoring Jeremy’s input and turning back to Emerson, she protested further. “You cannot just waltz up to a bunch of officials, holding guns, at a quarantine line designed to keep all people out, and to kill anyone suspected of infection on sight! You complete psycho. Do you have a death wish?”
