The Virulent Chronicles Box Set

by Shelbi Wescott

  There was a hidden dock. In order to access it, they had to journey down to the Remembering Room first; then Gordy led them to a secret elevator off the control room. It took them back up to the surface of the ocean and into a small loading dock with a collection of boats. Big and small, luxury, and military. When they slipped through the control room, Lucy noticed that the cameras were off. Kymberlin was experiencing a visual blackout. The operators were gone, too. Gordy and Blair had orchestrated a series of open windows for them—and as she realized the lengths of their charade, she knew that she would be forever indebted to them for this second chance at life.

  As they neared the bottom of the stairs, she looked up to the mirror in the top of the control room where she and Grant had just stood...yesterday? Had it only been yesterday? She tried to picture them up there now, looking down on the people below and hoping for a miracle.

  Grant knew then that he was leaving.

  He had stood next to her and kissed her and held her hand, and the whole time he knew that he might have to say goodbye. The group of escapees only had a few hours head start, but Lucy hoped that their plan had been a success and that they could catch up to them. She didn’t want to be the one to tell Ethan about their father. She didn’t want to watch his face when she admitted that they couldn’t all make it off the Island.

  She wanted to say or do something for him. She wanted to stop and pray—could she remember Grant’s prayer for Salem? But she knew no matter what that she would never have the right words to memorialize the moment. They were alive: her mother, her, Galen, Monroe, Malcolm, and Harper. They were alive and they were together. That was enough.

  They maneuvered around the dock. Lucy kept Harper close and led the way behind Gordy and Blair. They put them on a white boat—a simple motorboat. Each of them climbed into the rocking vehicle and took their seats. Her mother sat down with the younger kids and Galen deferred to his older sister. Lucy looked at the ignition, a key dangling; the boat rocked and swayed on the water.

  “I don’t know how—” Lucy started, but Gordy’s radio interrupted her. He listened intently. The vigil was over and those who had left their posts would return soon.

  “Thank you,” Gordy said into his walkie-talkie. Then he turned to Lucy. “You have to go now…no more time.”

  Lucy nodded and swallowed. “Okay,” she replied. Blair leaned across the bobbing dock and reached for Lucy’s hand. Lucy slipped over and shook Blair’s hand—her fingers were cold to the touch.

  “Teddy,” Blair said and she nodded. “If he ever asks about me…if he remembers…” then she stopped mid-sentence and let go of Lucy’s hand and walked away with Gordy back down to the entrance. They didn’t turn around to say goodbye or wait to make sure the Kings made it safely. Instead, they just disappeared back into the belly of Kymberlin without another word.

  Lucy started the boat and took the wheel. She backed out of the dock slowly and slipped out into the rough waters outside Kymberlin. It was like driving a car. She kept saying that to herself: it’s like driving a car, it’s like driving a car. The large metal doors closed after her, sealing them off from the tower. Huddled together, the Kings sped away. Lucy turned back one last time to see the windows of the tower shining brightly over them. She kept the lights off on the boat, cloaking them in the approaching darkness until they were far enough away from Kymberlin to avoid detection. Then she just kept driving straight toward the sand. The boat carried them all the way to the shore; she beached the motorboat as far up the sand as it would let her before it became bogged down in the wetness of the land. Lucy hopped down from the boat first and the cold water licked her legs. She helped Harper down next, then the boys, and then her mother. Finally Galen jumped from the boat into the wet sand and they stood on the edge of the tide.

  “Come on,” Galen said. The sun was setting in front of them and the beach would soon be dark. Together, the family trudged upward and onward, heading toward the main road.

  “They are hiding in the carnival,” Lucy called to her family. “We check there first. Then we’ll find a car.”

  “Easier said than done,” Galen said.

  “Hey!” Lucy called, her voice carrying on the wind. “I’ll be right there!” She let them go ahead, and then Lucy turned. She slipped out of her wet shoes and held them in her hands and took a step back toward the ocean. She looked out to the horizon where the towers of Kymberlin stretched upward against the landscape, barely visible and intermittently concealed by the rising waves of the incoming tide. Like she had told Gordy, the towers seemed like an illusion. Simultaneously visible and then invisible from shore, and so removed from the world, they had been designed for docility and pseudo-contentment. She felt nothing but sadness for the people locked away inside its shiny glass houses. Cass’s window had faced the east, and so it was not even remotely visible from Lucy’s vantage point, but she stood on her tiptoes and waved all the same, flapping her arms and wishing that Cass could see her.

  Maybe Cass would miss her, or maybe she would move on to a new best friend, a new ally, a new purpose. Cass made her own way and never looked back. She had strength and conviction that could not be rivaled. But one thing was certain: she would land on her feet, and in her moments of idle thinking about the King family, Cass would not view their time together with regret; there would be only fondness for her onetime friends.

  Cass was the only thing Lucy would miss about Kymberlin. She hoped that her friend would see her happy and healthy in the cards.

  But Lucy wasn’t sure about the future of the Islands for the duration of Huck’s proposed five-hundred-year plan. Would people find contentment there? Would it become the new normal? Or would people fight for the freedom and liberties stripped from them? Lucy didn’t know, but she did know there would be more people following in their footsteps. In her heart, she knew that to be true. Whether Huck’s regime kept control for months or years or generations, there would always be a few who would rather choose uncertainty than a life locked up. All the provisions in the world could not buy serenity; the Islands were a powder keg, and Lucy could hear a small voice telling her, “There will be others. There will always be others.”

  Above her, the Ferris wheel rocked and swayed. Lucy wondered how long it would be until the structure collapsed, until the cars fell from their hinges, finally succumbing to rust and deterioration. There were things Huck could destroy, and things he could rebuild. And there were other things that would remain untouched by the history growing up around it.

  Lucy turned and marched toward the edge of the beach. She could still feel Kymberlin behind her, watching her, present, as always. But when she turned, she could no longer see the building that had been her home for such a short time. It had been there a moment ago, visible on the horizon, but now it was gone, enshrouded in darkness and fog. As if it had never existed at all; as if it had functioned as an illusion.

  “Goodbye,” she whispered to the air and it carried her words out to sea and into the hearts of those that needed to hear it. “Goodbye,” she said again and she outstretched her hand to the sea. Her heart ached, but she knew that she had to be strong. Someone had to be strong. Then she sprinted up the sand and around the corner, and stumbled into the parking lot of the Palace Playland.

  “We found a van,” Galen said, and he pointed to a single vehicle in the parking lot, parked at an angle across the empty spaces. He opened the door and peered inside. “Keys!” he shouted, and Lucy sprinted forward. Maxine was already busy situating the children inside, buckling them and finding space for their small backpacks. She climbed in after them and waited.

  “You driving, Mom?” Lucy asked, but Maxine shook her head.

  “I trust you,” Maxine said, and she nodded toward the driver seat.

  Lucy started to climb in, but her eyes went to the piece of white paper resting in the center of the seat. She picked up the paper, a small receipt, and read it again and again. I love you. My heart is with you. To our p
lace, it said in Grant’s handwriting.

  “They made it here,” she said. “Ethan and Grant and Teddy...they made it off Kymberlin.” She held up the receipt and shook it into the air. “And I know where to go.”

  Galen hopped into the passenger seat. Lucy started the engine. She flipped on the headlights, which for a brief second illuminated the entrance of the Palace Playland, casting the eeriness of the park in a yellow glow. Then she turned the wheel and pulled out, the van hitting a curb before settling on the street.

  They drove in silence. Lucy looked in her rearview mirror and saw her mother cradling Harper, the two of them cuddled together with their eyes wide. They scanned the abandoned buildings of the small coastal town and turned to watch out the back window—half expecting to see Huck’s army emerge behind them. But nothing stirred. They slipped out unnoticed. Their future and their safety rested in Gordy and Blair’s hands and she had to trust that Gordy’s words were true. Only they had the power to keep Huck from following them. And she resolved right then and there to abandon her fear and embrace freedom instead. She may not have all the answers, but she had a promise. And that promise would carry her forward.

  “I’m hungry,” Monroe said. “When can we eat?”

  “I’m cold,” Malcolm answered.

  “Shhhh,” Maxine replied. “I know, sweeties, but we’re doing the best we can right now. We’ll stop when we can. Just let Lucy drive.”

  “Here,” Galen said and he reached into his backpack. He pulled up some granola bars and an apple. He handed them to the backseat. “I just brought food,” he admitted. The twins opened up the bars; the wrappers crinkled.

  “Where are we going?” Galen asked a few miles later.

  Lucy kept her eyes on the road, “I guess that’s the only thing I know the answer to right now,” she said. Then she reached out and took her brother’s hand. “We’re going to Ethan and Grant.” She drummed the fingers of her left hand on the steering wheel and broke out into a huge smile. “There’s a little cabin at the foot of the mountains and it overlooks this lake. It’s away from all the death…like a little bubble of peacefulness that escaped destruction. And there are places for everyone and a room with a fireplace and a piano. It’s beautiful and it’s safe.” She paused—her eyes focused straight ahead, only seeing as far as the headlight beams in front of her. Then she looked over at Galen and back in the rearview mirror. “We’re going home,” she said. “Home. Together.”

  THE END

  Next in the Virulent Chronicles

  Twenty-five years in the future…

  new dangers emerge.

  Arriving in Summer 2019,

  the second trilogy in the Virulent Chronicles:

  The Bedrock, The Bystanders, and an untitled third book.

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  Visit www.shelbiwescott.com to find out how

  Also by Shelbi Wescott

  In addition to the Virulent Chronicles, Shelbi also writes the Ivy Falls Mysteries.

  After Life

  The Zodiac House

  About the Author

  Shelbi Wescott lives in Portland, Oregon with her husband (who is also a writer), her two children, her hound dog, and her one-eyed cat.

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