The Virulent Chronicles Box Set

by Shelbi Wescott

  “Painless,” Allison repeated, annoyed. Cass piled the cards back up and slipped them into her pocket. Then she reached out and tapped Allison on the shoulder, and bowed her head.

  “I’m sorry...I am...but I have a confession.” Cass signaled for Allison to come closer and Ethan watched as Cass brought a needle up and jabbed it quickly into the nanny’s shoulder. Allison’s response was quick—she buckled to the floor and Cass caught her, lowering her head to the ground. It happened seamlessly, as if the Haitian queen of all things amazing had also been gifted with the art of subterfuge.

  Teddy hovered over his guardian, but Cass swept him away.

  “Quick! This woman fainted! I need a guard and a medic!” Cass yelled. One of the mothers from the playground came trotting over and she leaned across Allison’s body.

  “What happened?”

  The other mothers and fathers began to congregate: little busybodies more curious than concerned.

  “I read her tarot, told her the future, and she just...” Cass closed her eyes and swayed. “I’ll be right back. Keep her warm!” Cass slipped Teddy’s hand into hers and raced him over to Ethan.

  “It can’t be that easy,” Ethan said as he scooped Teddy into his arms.

  “I’m glad I made that look easy, darling,” she winked.

  Ethan looked at Allison and the gathering crowd. “Is she—?”

  “Just a little sleeping tonic. She’ll be right as rain in a bit. Go.” She gave his arm a squeeze. “Go. Now. You’re running out of time. Go. Be safe. Be brave. Be amazing.”

  He hesitated and then leaned down and kissed Cass’s cheek. She smiled.

  “See...I knew you didn’t love me,” she whispered. Then she turned back to the people fussing over Allison and slipped back in among the fray.

  Ethan made it to the elevator. He made it to the atrium. He booked it as fast as he could across he large open expanse, darting past the concierge who called, “Good afternoon, Mr. King. Is there anything I can help—” before realizing that perhaps things were not as they should be.

  “Wait!” the young woman yelled. “Mr. King, you’re not supposed to go up there without proper authorization!” she called as he reached the final elevator—the one that would carry him to his escape. Using Cass’s master key, he unlocked the elevator override box, pushed the button, and the elevator sped down to him. From the sky bridges he could see the guards running, their weapons drawn. The elevator leading from the North Tower dinged and Grant exited, looking confused. He saw Ethan, Teddy, and then he saw the guards. Racing forward he made it to the elevator to the helipad right as the doors opened, and the boys darted inside.

  As the doors shut, Ethan exhaled in relief. But suddenly a hand sneaked its way between the metal and thrust the doors back open.

  “Don’t shoot! I have the boy!” Ethan yelled and he crouched down to Teddy and wrapped his arms around the boy’s body.

  But when he looked up, he realized that it wasn’t a guard who had slipped on board, but his father.

  Scott was pale, his hair frizzy, and his hands shook.

  “Push the close door button, dammit,” Scott said. And Grant did as he was told.

  Ethan smiled. “You swore,” he said to his dad. “You never swear.”

  “I swear,” Scott answered. “You just never heard me.” He was carrying a cardboard box. “You won’t have time...when you reach the top. And everyone will be coming for you, do you understand? I can stall them...”

  “Dad,” Ethan said and his voice broke. “This wasn’t the way.”

  “This is the only way.”

  Ethan nodded and tried not to cry. Grant was wide-eyed in the corner. He stepped forward.

  “Mr. King...you can’t...you shouldn’t...”

  “I’m saving my sons,” Scott answered. “You hear me?” He looked down to Teddy, who was watching everything wide-eyed; Scott smiled at him. “It’s okay, little man. Everything is going to be okay.”

  “Be strong, Teddy,” Ethan echoed. He picked up Teddy and held him tightly. “Trust Uncle Ethan and stay close.”

  The doors opened to the helipad. Two armed guards rushed across the tarmacked roof and Scott stepped forward.

  “I have a bomb!” he shouted. “Stand back! Or I’ll blow the whole tower up! You hear me?”

  One of the guards radioed down to the tower. “He has a bomb. What should we do?”

  “Stand down!” someone barked and the guards lowered their weapons.

  “Drop them!” Scott demanded.

  The guards set their weapons on the ground and backed away.

  Ethan set Teddy down and Grant took the child’s other hand. Together they ran toward the waiting helicopter with Hank in the pilot seat. Scott followed close behind. Ethan turned to his father and shook his head; the wind was flapping all around them, and between the wind and the helicopter, it was hard to hear.

  “Why?” Ethan called. “Why did you change your mind? Why are you doing this?”

  “All I ever wanted to do was to save my family,” Scott yelled over the din. “All I ever wanted to do was protect you from the people who wanted to hurt you.”

  “You did, Dad!” Ethan yelled back. “You did. This is suicide...”

  “No!” Scott shook his head. He rushed forward and shoved the box into Ethan’s hands. “It’s on a timer. An egg timer. Set it and get out as fast as you can. I don’t know how you’re going to do this, son, but you better make damn sure this works.”

  “Okay,” Ethan said, his voice shaking.

  Grant yelled from inside the helicopter. He had strapped Teddy into a seat and leaned out the open door. “Ethan! Now! Now! Now!”

  Ethan turned and jumped into the waiting chopper, and immediately Hank lifted them off the ground and began soaring over the roaring waters. He held the box tightly to his chest and watched as his father got smaller and further away. The guards rushed him, tackled him to the helipad, and still his father kept his eyes trained on the helicopter as they disappeared into the clouds.

  His father had just purchased him, Grant, and Teddy a ticket off Kymberlin and paid for it with his own life

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The chopper blades cut through the air and disturbed the silence of the clown-centric fun land. Darla stopped trying to pull the paddleboat out of the small pool next to the kiddie rides and turned her face toward the sky. She had waited long enough for Blair to return with Teddy; the paddleboat was her next step. Dean and Ainsley had given up on trying to convince her it was a bad idea, and so she stood alone in the foot deep water, dragging the baby blue boat over to the edge and preparing to drag it out to the sea.

  But she knew that sound. She knew a helicopter was closing in on the beach. Abandoning her project, she leapt out of the pool and rushed down the cement. Dean emerged from his nest under the counter in the balloon darts tent and Ainsley, who had climbed into one of the Ferris wheel cars, stood up and held on to the railing. She shouted down below, “Coming straight for the beach!”

  “Guns!” Dean shouted. “Guns! And positions!”

  Ainsley wrapped her legs over the edge, grabbed on to the metal beam and flung herself into the next car. From there she was able to glide down to the edge and shimmy her way to the grass below. Darla checked her weapon and then rushed to the wall separating the carnival from the beach. She watched through a small hole in the fence and her breath caught in her chest.

  The helicopter landed and sand blew up around the door. The blades continued to swirl and flooded the area with deafening sound. Three figures ducked and hopped out and tore up the beach. Two big. One little.

  Ethan. Grant.

  And a little curly-haired boy.

  Oh, how she recognized everything about him from so far away, as if her heart was a beacon tuned straight to Teddy. She knew his gait, the swing of his arms. The sight of him, unharmed and rushing toward up the beach was overwhelming. She had waited for this moment and nothing prepared her for the crushing
emotion that poured over her.

  Darla began to sob. Her tears blinded her. She tore back through the Palace Playland and out to the street, wiping her eyes and seeing only the fuzzy outlines approaching up the coast. Her legs had never pumped so hard and her heart hurt inside her chest. She rushed out past the retaining wall and hit the open street to the beach.

  Grant was holding Teddy’s hand and helping him run up the sand. And Ethan was behind them, struggling to keep his balance. The helicopter ascended into the air; it was up and traveling north, away from them and into the sky. She watched it disappear behind a cloud.

  “Teddy! TEDDY!” Darla cried and she ran straight into him, sweeping him up off the beach and into her arms. She smothered him with kisses and covered him with her own tears and snot. The sand clung to her wet pants and shoes, but Darla didn’t care. She sunk down to the ground and held Teddy so tight that she was worried her heart might burst.

  “Mama!” Teddy cried. “Mama!” His little hands wrapped around her neck. He kissed her cheek.

  “Are you real?” Darla asked and she laughed as she grabbed Teddy’s cheek and gave it a small pinch. He smiled and she tucked him closer. She inhaled his scent—fruity and fresh. He didn’t smell like her Teddy; she wanted to roll him around in the dirt and muddy him up—scrub him clean of evidence that strangers had kept him away from her. Those were weeks that were gone from her forever. That was time she’d never get back. She wanted to hold him tighter, squeeze him harder; she wished there was a way to physically express her relief and her love and her joy.

  “I missed you, Mama,” Teddy said, and he was crying, too. Big tears. He kissed her cheek. “Your face is wet and salty. Are you sad?”

  “No, baby boy. I’m not sad,” Darla sobbed. She laughed. And cried and hugged him. “I’m not sad. I’m not sad at all. I missed you, too.”

  She pulled him back and inspected him. He looked good. He was wearing clothes she didn’t recognize and brand-new canvas tennis shoes.

  “I thought you were gone,” he whispered. “I thought you were never coming back.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, and she pulled him in close again. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

  “I was scared,” Teddy said.

  “No need to be scared anymore. Your mama has you now. You hear me? I’m here. I’m here and I’m never going anywhere again. You hear me? I’m here forever.” Sometimes she thought of the promises parents make to their children—the ones that are used for comfort, but shrouded in half-truths: safe lies. She couldn’t promise Teddy forever, but she could come close.

  An explosion startled her and Teddy screamed and clawed at her shoulder. Her heart leapt and her body went into panic mode. She threw her body over his and tried to shield him from the ensuing violence. There they were, on the beach, exposed. She waited for rapid gunfire, armed men, and the evidence that her reunion with Teddy was too good to be true. When none of those things happened, Darla lifted her head to the sky. She smelled smoke.

  A yellow and red ball of fire appeared in the sky and then a pillar of black smoke followed it. From down the beach, Ethan stopped and looked at the place from which the sound and fire came—it was several miles up the coastline. He jumped and clapped. It took Darla a second to realize that he was celebrating.

  “It worked! He did it! That son of a bitch did it!” Ethan cried and he moved up the sand with a quickened pace. “Come on! Go. Go!” He waved for Darla and Teddy to get off the beach, his arms flying in circles as he jumped up and down. “Go! Go!” he continued to yell.

  Darla scooped Teddy up into her arms and rushed back toward the amusement park. She could feel the mixture of the sand and her wet clothes rubbing against her body; it created little stabs of sharp pain as she moved and rubbed her skin raw. She flew under the clown gateway and straight to Dean, who took Teddy from her arms and spun him around.

  Grant went back for Ethan, grabbed his arm and wrapped it around his shoulder and then allowed Ethan to use him as a crutch to get off the dry sand. When they reached the road, Ethan untangled himself from Grant and they rushed forward into the Palace Playland—the clowns smiling at them, the smoke still billowing from out at sea.

  “Car?” Ethan asked, out of breath.

  “Van,” Darla answered. She sniffed and began to cry again. “I’m sorry. Hold on…I’m trying to get a grip.”

  “We grabbed a few vehicles...we didn’t know how many to expect. We can take the larger passenger van. Leave the minivan,” Dean answered. He put his hand out for Grant and Grant grabbed it and let his dad pull him into a shared embrace with Teddy. Then he let Grant go and beamed.

  “We have to go,” Ethan said, and he clasped Darla on the back—his substitute for a hug. “It’s good to see you, Darla. It’s so good to see you.” He put a hand over his mouth. Then he smiled through the tears. “I’m sorry…”

  “It’s not your fault,” Darla answered. She leaned over and took Teddy from Dean. She looked at her child and ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his freckled cheeks. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  Dean and Grant stood side-by-side. “Dad—” Grant started and without hesitation Dean enveloped Grant. He wrapped his arms around his son, and the moment Grant was safe against his father, he began to cry. “She didn’t come with me,” he said. “She didn’t want to choose...so...I told her...”

  “Hey there, cowboy,” Dean said, closing his eyes. “I know a little something about that. Right?”

  Grant nodded.

  “If it’s meant to be, she’ll find a way. It’s not the end, son. It’s not the end.” Dean leaned down to make sure Grant had heard him. Grant nodded again.

  Ethan shifted on his leg and looked around the empty carnival. He scanned the booths and the rides, and just as he was about to ask Darla, he saw her by the Ferris wheel. Her hair was blowing in the wind. She stood up on her tiptoes and waved at him, and then she came rushing forward—barreling into Ethan’s chest and knocking him over. He hit the pavement with a thud and he groaned.

  “My tailbone,” he cried out.

  “I can’t amputate that,” Ainsley said. She sat him up. Then she pulled back, embarrassed, and she stood to her feet and smoothed out her torn pants and shirt. She offered him her hand.

  “You look like hell,” he said.

  “Waiting around for someone to rescue themselves is hard work,” Ainsley replied. “Thanks for being sensitive to the fact that I don’t think I could spend another night in this awful, awful place. I had a nightmare last night that the Tunnel of Love was really a portal to this level of Hell ruled by demented giant stuffed animals.”

  “That’s a real thing,” Ethan replied. She poked him in the shoulder with a single finger. He smiled. “I thought you were dead.”

  “I’m alive because I was a coward,” she said in a whisper. “My mom is dead.” She stopped and closed her eyes. “I’m alone...”

  Ethan shook his head. He looked at Dean and Grant; Darla and Teddy; and then he looked at Ainsley. “We’re a family. Look at us. It’s the best kind of family…the family you choose. You’re not alone.”

  A secondary explosion jarred them, and together they looked out to the sea. A cloud of smoke lifted beyond their view, and Ethan clapped his hands together.

  “They’ll do a search here soon enough. So we need to hightail it out of here. They’ll inspect the crash site first...”

  “Sweepers?” Darla asked.

  “What are sweepers? They’ll just send the guards out,” Ethan clarified.

  “The pilot?” Dean asked, worried.

  “Safe. I hope,” Grant replied. “The plan was to put it on autopilot and set the timer on Scott’s bomb. He was supposed to parachute to the beach and send the chopper out to sea. James Bond style.”

  “Goodness,” Ainsley exclaimed.

  “Look,” Ethan gathered the group together in a huddle. “No one from Huck’s army is on the mainland right now. We gotta go. If we can get out of
this area without being spotted and hunker down, we’ll be free. Safe.”

  “Forever?” Ainsley asked. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him, unblinking.

  “I don’t know,” Ethan replied. He looked to Darla. “Get us out of here. You have any idea of a place we could go?”

  Her face was a bloated, puffy mess. She smiled at him brightly, her eyes glistening. “Excellent idea. I know just the place.”

  “No!” Grant snapped, everyone turned to look at him, and he stepped over to Darla. “No. I know a place. I know a place. And it’s where we need to go.”

  “We’ve got contacts in Montana. A group of survivors that have started a little community there. I think that’s where we should go…we’d be welcome there.”

  “No,” Grant said again. He was adamant. “I’m going to Wyoming…I promised Lucy that’s where I would meet her and that’s where I’m going. No one else has to go with me, that’s fine, but then give me my own keys.”

  “We stay together,” Dean said to his son. “Wherever we go, we go together.”

  “Wyoming,” Grant replied. “Jackson Lake.” He stood tall and looked at Darla, his mouth rigid.

  Darla reached into her pocket and pulled out a set of keys on a leather keychain. She tossed them to Grant and he caught them awkwardly against his body.

  “Lead the way,” she said, and Grant panned the expectant faces of the group, steeled himself against the charge of leading the group, and marched off toward the Playland parking lot. Darla smiled and kissed Teddy’s face.

  “I love you, little dude,” she said.

  “Love you, Mama,” Teddy answered.

  Darla beamed and marched off behind Grant, content to let him take the lead. They climbed into a large white van. There were two other vans in the lot. Grant peered in through the windows and saw keys sitting on the seats. He exhaled, relieved, and continued to their vehicle. He slipped behind the wheel, started the engine, and started to drive out of the parking lot. Nobody said a word. Dean sat in the passenger seat and looked at his son; Ethan and Ainsley had climbed into the very back and sat next to each other, their legs barely touching. And Darla rested Teddy against the middle seat, buckled him in, and rested his head in her lap. She ran her finger through his hair and closed her eyes.