I finally know where Gideon is. The embers of joy burn and crackle in my bones, threatening a raging fire. When all this chaos blows over, I’ll know where to look for him. I just need to figure out how to get him back.
A bird chirps. I open my eyes and find a small bird perched on a charred branch of the apple tree nearest to me. She tilts her head and chirps again, then flits off. I smile, allow the freedom and happiness of this moment to pour into my bloodstream and set fire to my veins.
The sun is higher than it was minutes ago. The orchard has been anointed. The early morning mist takes on a yellow hue and the sky brightens.
That’s you, Aurora, I can almost hear Mother say. The Rising Sun. Bringing hope to your people.
The brightness of the sun is blinding. Rays shoot out in every direction, splashing across the face of the earth, melting over every tree, every blade of grass and turning it gold. I look down at my hands, also cloaked with sunlight.
Bring hope to your people.
With these hands, I can do what Mother wanted. I might have been her last choice, but I’ll be the one to carry out her dying wish.
I nod to the Unseen. I nod to my Mother’s spirit. I nod and nod and nod and make a silent promise to right what is wrong, even if it costs me my life.
Even if it means never seeing Gideon again?
I stare at my hands. And I slowly nod again.
The sound of grunting from inside the cabin brings me back to the present. Then the grunting turns into more of a groaning, then something resembling a roar of frustration. I race inside to find Chale pacing by the window. Both hands are gripping his hair, and he’s bent over, like he’s in pain. He groans again.
I bolt toward him. “Chale, are you okay? Are you ill?”
His head jerks up and he looks at me.
His eyes are white.
Milky. White.
A shudder races up my spine double-time.
“Aurora, what’s happening?” Rain sits up from where he was a sleeping in the corner.
Chale grunts and looks toward Rain. He roars, almost like words are too hard for him. Almost like he has no idea what’s happening and it’s driving him crazy. And that’s when I notice it.
His skin flaking off his arms like snow. The clumps of hair in his fists, and the bald patches in his head. The way the roots are already graying, more so than they already were.
And fear turns my bones to ice.
“Rain.” I’m almost too petrified to say the words aloud, but I somehow squeeze them out. “He—he has the White P-plague.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
RAIN
Oh. Hell. No.
“The White Plague doesn’t exist anymore,” I say through gritted teeth, keeping my eyes on the animal that was once Chale.
“It didn’t,” Aurora says. “But it does now. Look at his skin. His eyes. His hair. White.”
Chale coughs and blood drips down his chin.
“That cough,” I mutter, stepping back.
Chale looks between us. I can’t tell if he can actually see us or not, since his milky eyes can’t seem to focus. Everything about him is off. He grunts again, and slobber dribbles down his chin. Then he looks at Aurora.
“Chale,” Aurora says carefully. “Can you hear me? Can you understand me?”
He lunges toward her. He topples on top of her and pummels her to the ground.
“Rain!” she screams. “Heeeelp!”
Move. Move. Gotta move. I don’t even know how to act around a plague victim. I don’t know how far gone he is. I grab his shoulders and yank him back. He’s clumsy and weak and doesn’t seem to know what’s going on, so it’s pretty easy.
Aurora leaps to her feet. Before I can stop her, she grabs the gun from my belt, aims it at Chale and she—oh no no no no—
“NO!”
—shoots Chale in the head.
Her hands are trembling violently, and she drops the gun, runs her hands through her hair, uttering a string of intelligible words.
“Did you have you shoot him?”
Her eyes snap to mine. “He would have killed us! Don’t you know anything about the White Plague?”
“The plague is gone! Extinct!”
“Well, he had it. And he was too far gone, Rain. His brain cells were just, gone.” She shakes her head too fast too many times and stares at Chale’s limp body in shock. “That isn’t Chale. Chale died sometime in the night, and this plagued monster took over.” Tears fall down her face. Her hands shaking violently. I notice red blood seeping through her shirtsleeve on her upper arm.
“What happened to your arm?”
She pulls the sleeve of her shirt down, revealing teeth marks.
“Did he seriously bite you?” Holy Crawford. “Are you going to get it now? Am I going to get it? Is it contagious? Airborne?” Of all the historical things I taught myself, why couldn’t I have spent a little more time learning about the shoddy plague?
“It’s not contagious to us. The antitoxin, remember? We’ve been vaccinated.”
The antitoxin. My entire life, having the antitoxin just meant having superior blood. The ability to brainwash others with nothing more than eye contact. Now it has a whole different meaning—its original meaning—protecting us from the White Plague.
“This bite will get infected and then heal,” Aurora is saying, “just like a regular scratch. We’re fine, Rain. But I’m worried about the people out there. The unvaccinated. The people who were stopped from getting the antitoxin because of the politicians. Everyone Chale came into contact with, like Judd the bartender, is at risk. And everyone they come into contact with is at risk.”
“How could this happen?” I begin pacing, digging my fingers into my hair. “How could this happen? The White Plague has been gone for a century. And now it’s back. And—and he was vaccinated! How, how, how—” I stop pacing, dread making my muscles stiffen in my legs, my arms, around my core at the terrible realization.
Of course.
The same week Aurora takes the helm, the country would go to hell. Of course she would choose to distribute the antitoxin to Chale herself, with no medical personnel to supervise and tell me it was a fake serum. Of course she would infect one victim with the hopes he would infect the country before it was completely vaccinated.
I glare at her. “You.”
Her eyes widen, and I see the confusion, then understanding, then fear.
“No,” she whispers. “Rain, it’s not what you think.”
I’ve never hated her more than I do now. I can’t believe she had me fooled. So completely fooled. I actually let her pull the wool over my eyes. All the pieces fall into place as I saunter toward her, grab the front of her shirt and shove her against the wall. I want to slam her head through the wood. I want to do so many things to her right now.
“This was all planned out,” I shout through clenched teeth. “You can’t handle that the majority of Ky will be brain-clear, so you save a quarter of them, stage an attack on the rest of the antitoxin, and then watch the remaining Deltas die.”
“I’m going to fix this, Rain.” Her voice is firm, her eyes hard. Here’s the put-together girl I knew before. The broken girl is an actress, and a good one at that. Because hearing her pour her heart out about Titus yesterday, and watching her break down while reading that journal last night, I was just beginning to feel sorry for her. Boy was I tricked. I see her for who she truly is now. I see the she-Titus. The witch.
“I was right all along,” I seethe. “I should have left you to rot when I had the chance.”
“Rain, you’re hurting me—”
I shove her harder. “I didn’t want to kill you, Aurora! I mean, I did, but then I didn’t. I tried to see what Ember saw. I tried to see good in you!”
“I’m. Going. To. Fix. This.”
“Lies!” I shove her again.
“I just need your help, Rain. I need the Indy Tribe’s help
.”
“You can go to hell.” My rage blinds me. I grab her shirt and shove her to the ground, then stride to the center of the room, pick up the gun, and aim at her head just as she sits up.
She sees the gun and freezes. I shove it against her forehead, eager to be rid of her once and for all.
I have to shoot her.
I have to shoot her now.
Don’t hesitate.
Just. Shoot.
She stares up at me, and all I see are green eyes. Green eyes like Titus's eyes.
Green eyes like Jonah’s.
No. Stay firm. Shoot. I cock the gun, but my hand begins trembling.
Do it now.
But her eyes.
Don’t think.
They look so much like Ember’s.
Just. Shoot.
Always smiling.
DO IT.
Filled with innocence and pain and a longing for things to be better.
SHOOT.
CAN’T.
I uncock the gun and it slips from my fingers. Aurora flinches when it hits the ground with a clunk.
Good or evil, I can’t get myself to shoot the person most like the girl I loved. I can’t.
And I fall to my knees. Because all of this is too much. Nothing is unraveling the way we intended. This world is going to hell and I give up.
I surrender.
And if Aurora picks up that gun and shoots me in the head, maybe we’ll all be better off.
She bends down.
And touches my shoulder.
I want to pull away. But I don’t. I can’t. I don’t love her the way I loved Ember, but I need her. Some part of me needs her.
“I’m sorry.” The words are barely audible.
“I understand,” she responds.
I look at Chale’s body, limp on the floor.
“What was that?” I ask, my voice breaking. “What the shoddy rot happened?” I look at Aurora through a blur of tears. “He was fine. Chale. He was normal. I talked to him late into the night and he was just fine. He was vaccinated, just like us.”
“I know.” She stares at the floor. “It’s…weird. The White Plague has been dormant for a century. And there’s no way any possible remaining plagued could have crossed over to come to Ky. I don’t even remember seeing anyone with the symptoms during our trip. I don’t understand what could have brought it on.” She chews her nail, her mind searching. “The plague can take anywhere between one to two weeks to show symptoms. But we’ve been with him for the past two weeks.”
I shake my head. “What could have brought it on? What did he eat or drink or do that could have given him the plague?”
Silence fills the air around while we try to put the pieces together, try to figure out this impossible possibility. And then—
“Oh.” Realization seems to fill Aurora’s eyes and she takes a startled step back, presses her hand against the wall to catch her balance. “Oh, no. Rain.” She looks at me and dread is pouring into her expression like an ocean of death. “I think—I think the antitoxin is the White Plague.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
AURORA
Unbelievable. My stomach turns into a cold, hard ball, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. I should have seen it coming. Of course it was coming. I was spending each day just waiting, wondering when Titus was going to pull the rug from beneath my feet, and here it is. His magic trick. This is why he handed over the leadership so easily. He can’t let anyone win.
I. Should. Have. Known.
“So, if it’s in the antitoxin,” Rains says, his voice raw. “Then does that mean every single person we vaccinated is going to get it?”
Holy Crawford. I hadn’t even thought that far ahead. The ball in my stomach hardens. “The antitoxin I gave Chale came from the same stash we’ve been giving the Proletariats. So…unless only one of the vials has the plague, it’s very possible everyone else will get it, too.”
“Maybe they didn’t all have it.” He looks at me, broken, breaking, on the verge of shattering. “Maybe it was sporadic.”
I shake my head. “Either way, chaos will ensue. This country is going to hell in a handbasket. And it’s because of that shoddy antitoxin.” I stare blankly at the wall. I can’t help but feel like this is my fault. Like Rain had every right to kill me. Like maybe he should have killed me.
“I should have tested it,” I say, more to myself. “Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do with medicine, anyway?”
“There was no way you could have known.”
I’m surprised at Rain defending me. But he’s so wrong.
“The antitoxin hasn’t been distributed for years,” I say. “Almost a century. Of course it’s been tinkered with. Of course my father and Titus would keep a stash of the White Plague somewhere, and of course Titus would use that stash to make this plan backfire. They hated the idea of making everyone equal.”
I imagine it in my head. The way Father and Titus hated the Resurgence so much that they would create a plan to mess up their efforts to rescue Ky. I should have known there was some sort of trap, and I should have taken every precaution. Now, because of my carelessness, people are going to die. The White Plague is going to spread like wildfire to the unvaccinated. And I now have to decide how I’m going to stop it. My battle isn’t against the politicians or the Resurgence anymore.
It’s against an uncontrollable disease.
“Have you messaged Walker yet?” I ask, not looking at Rain.
“Getting ready to. Any instructions you want me to send with this new info?”
I chew my lip. Instructions. That’s not a bad idea. “Tell them to get into the room where Titus is kept. There is a history book dating all the way back to the beginning of Ky.” I look at Rain, hope fighting against my despair. “It should have steps to combat the White Plague.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
RAIN
The trip to the southern border of the Garden takes all. shoddy. day. Aurora remains quiet for the better part of it. I used to relish her silence. Now I’m beginning to dread it. It means she hasn’t come up with a remedy yet, and after hours and hours of her silence—her looking off into space, her sporadic stopping and sucking in a breath as though she had an idea only to shake her head and resume walking with her hands digging into her hair—I’m beginning to wonder if there even is a shoddy remedy. Or if we’re going to have to build a moat around Frankfort when the rest of Ky breaks loose in a White Plague Frenzy.
“Do you think anyone else in the Garden has it?” I ask, daring to break the silence.
“If they do, symptoms won’t appear for another week at least. The first county we visited—” Her voice cuts off and she shakes her head, then looks at me. “They’re done for, Rain.” She stops walking, stares at the ground, the look of pure horror crossing her features. “Those people who were chanting Ember’s name. The hope in their eyes when their minds were cleared, their children—” Her hand clamps over her mouth, and she closes her eyes, releasing tears down both cheeks.
And something inside me breaks. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and squeeze. I want to ease her pain. I want to wipe away this mistake. This mistake that will hang over her head, my head, the Resurgence’s head forever. I’ve never been one to run. I always wanted to fight for Ky. I always wanted to be a part of bringing freedom. But for the first time in my life, I want to give up. There’s no fixing this. There can’t be. If our ancestors couldn’t fight the White Plague, then neither can we.
It’s the apocalypse all over again.
The diseased are going to take over the rest of Ky, and we Patricians are going to be left to fend for ourselves. I mean, sure, we can’t get the White Plague, but if everyone in Ky gets as aggressive as Chale did…I release a shuddering sigh.
Nope. There is no light at the end of this tunnel.
It’s like Aurora said: We’re going to hell in a handbasket.
P
ART III: the contagion
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
AURORA
We arrive to Frankfort at midnight in the pouring rain. I’m sore, my legs are numb, I’ve had nothing to eat in the past two days but an egg, and I don’t think I could take another step if a White Plague victim were chasing me. We come in through a back entrance only the Resurgence knows about. It’s in that moment that Rain shows me that entrance that I know I can fully trust him. He could have handed me over to the authorities guarding the main gates. Instead he took a risk and showed me the only entrance he can walk through without getting caught. Two Defenders meet us by the secret gate and take us back to the palace in the military jeep. When I arrive at the mansion, Krin, Mcallister, and Walker race out to greet us. Mcallister is dressed in his usual Defender attire. Walker’s arm is in a sling.
My clothes are still damp, but Krin envelops me in a firm embrace anyway. “I’m so glad you’re all right,” she says against my ear. She pulls away and searches my eyes, her own filled with concern and love and relief. “We’re going to figure this out. Okay?”
I nod, but I can’t speak past the sudden lump in my throat. I’m not so sure it’s going to be okay. I’m not so sure the Proletariats and Patricians won’t have me burned for this.
Walker strides up next and pulls me into a side hug with his good arm. “I can’t believe I almost lost you…again.” He pulls away and shakes his head, his eyes wet with tears. “I couldn’t handle losing you and Ember.”
I look past Walker at Mcallister. The concern in his black eyes takes me off guard, then he walks up, and I’m not sure if he’s going to do the customary Defender bow to the chief, or slap me for my horrible mistake—when he crushes me to his chest. And for some odd reason, I don’t have the urge to pull away. I don’t stiffen…I melt. He’s breathing hard, and I don’t understand it—this welling in my chest, this warm feeling like I’m home and safe. I’ve always had to appear strong around Titus and Father and Rain and Chale. But around Mcallister, I almost feel safe breaking down. Like it’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be a little bit broken and unsure of myself.
white dawn (Black Tiger Series Book 3) Page 25
