“I’ve been really careful since you two got up on that Berg. The suits those jerks were wearing, the darts, how quickly the people who were shot collapsed and got sick … Even before Lana told us anything, it was obvious something was going on. The only person I’ve interacted with was Darnell, but he knew to keep his distance. He was the one who barricaded himself in that place and forced me to board it up.”
She paused to take a breath and eyed each of them. “My point is that I don’t think I’m sick. Especially since it acted so quickly on everyone who was.”
“I can see that, but—” Alec began, but Trina cut him off.
“I’m not finished,” she said with a sharp glare. “I know we need to be careful. I could be sick. I know we’ve touched, but let’s try not to anymore. Not until we’re totally sure. And all three of us need to make new masks and to wash our hands and faces like crazy.”
Mark liked that she was taking charge. “Sounds good to me.”
“Absolutely,” Alec agreed. “Now, where are the others? Lana, Misty, the Toad?”
Trina pointed in a few directions. “Everyone is holed up somewhere, keeping their distance. Just to be safe until no one shows any signs of sickness. Maybe another couple of days.”
Sitting around for a day or two sounded like the worst idea possible to Mark. “I’ll go nuts if we do that. We found a workpad with a map of where that Berg came from. Let’s gather supplies and get out of here—maybe we can learn something.”
“Agreed,” Alec chimed in. “We should get as far as we can from this place.”
“Wait—what about Darnell?” Mark asked. Though he knew what they would say, it made him feel better to at least ask. “Should we bury him?”
Trina’s and Alec’s eyes said it all. They couldn’t risk being anywhere close to his body.
“Take us to Lana and the others,” Alec said to Trina. “Then we go.”
As they searched the town for their friends, Mark worried about people trying to join them. But fear had struck deep, and no one dared venture out of their home. The village was eerily quiet, but he could feel the eyes following him down the alleys and paths. It didn’t surprise him, the more he thought about it. The world had punished everyone enough—why should they risk bringing anything more upon themselves?
They collected Misty and the Toad from the second floor of a log cabin on the outskirts of town, across the village from the Leaner and its bodies. Trina wasn’t sure where Lana would be. They found her about an hour after they set out, sleeping behind some bushes by the river. She was upset that they’d found her sleeping, but she’d worn herself out. As soon as Mark and Alec had boarded the Berg and disappeared in the woods, she’d taken charge. Quarantining people and getting the bodies in one place—she said they’d been sure to wear gloves and masks—and helping deliver food from house to house. No one in the settlement knew exactly what had happened, but Lana had insisted from the start that care needed to be taken in case they were dealing with something contagious.
“I’m not sick,” she concluded as they readied to leave the stream and go back to the village. “It happened so quickly—and the ones who got sick afterward have already died. I think I’d have symptoms by now.”
“How fast?” Mark asked her. “How fast did it take effect?”
“All but Darnell were dead within twelve hours,” she replied. “They woke up and showed symptoms within two or three. I really think if anyone is still alive and symptom-free right now, they’re clear.”
Mark took in their group: The Toad, fidgeting nervously. Misty, looking at the ground. Alec and Lana, staring at each other intently in what appeared to be a silent conversation. And Trina, looking at Mark. Her eyes said it all—they were going to live through this just like they’d lived through everything else.
They were back at the Shack an hour later, filling backpacks with as much food and supplies as they could carry. As they worked, they kept their distance from each other. Caution seemed to come naturally now. Mark washed his hands at least three times during the packing frenzy.
They had just finished up, each of them with a loaded pack on his or her back, when Misty groaned. Mark turned to agree with her—the packs were heavy—but when he saw her face, his stomach sank.
She was pale and leaning on a table with both hands. Mark was stunned—the last time he’d looked at her, she was fine. But then her legs gave out and she collapsed to one knee. She touched the side of her face, tentatively, almost as if she was worried about what she’d feel there.
“My … head hurts,” she whispered.
CHAPTER 13
“Everyone get out of here!” Lana yelled. “Out! Now!”
Mark was speechless. Everything in him wanted to do the opposite of what she’d just ordered. He wanted to help his friend.
“Get outside. Then we can talk!” Lana insisted. She pointed to the door.
“Go,” Misty said weakly. “Do what she says.”
Mark and Trina exchanged a look, but she only hesitated a second before marching out the door. Alec was right on her heels, then Lana.
Mark turned to leave but then noticed that the Toad hadn’t moved.
“Hey … come on, man. Let’s just go out there and talk about this. Misty, tell him.”
“He’s right, Toadie,” she said. She’d slipped her backpack to the floor and sat down next to it. Mark couldn’t believe how quickly she’d gone from totally fine to literally on the ground, too weak to stand. “Go and let me figure this thing out. Maybe I just ate something weird.” But Mark could tell she didn’t believe that.
“We can’t just keep abandoning people,” the Toad said, glaring at Mark.
“Who cares what you do if it makes you end up dead!” Misty countered. “How would you feel if it was reversed? You’d want me to leave. Now go!” That seemed to drain a good chunk of her energy—she slumped and almost lay down.
“Come on,” Mark said. “We’re not abandoning her. We’re just going outside to talk.”
The Toad stomped out of the Shack, muttering under his breath the whole way. “This is all so messed up. Totally messed up.”
Mark looked at Misty, but she was staring at the floor, taking long, deep breaths. “Sorry” was all he could get out. Then he joined the others.
They decided to give her one hour. They’d see what happened. See if she got better or worse.
Or if she stayed the same.
It was a maddening hour. Mark was unable to sit still. He paced outside the Shack, worried on so many levels. The thought that a virus might be slinking its way through his system … it was unbearable. And Trina’s, too. He wanted to know. Now. It was so overwhelming that he found himself forgetting that Misty could very well have it and die soon.
“I think we need to readjust our outlook here,” Lana said toward the end of their allotted time. Misty hadn’t improved or gotten worse—she still lay on the floor in the Shack, breathing evenly. Not moving at all. Not speaking.
“What do you mean?” Mark asked. He was grateful the silence had been broken.
“Darnell and Misty prove that whatever this is doesn’t necessarily take effect right away.”
Alec spoke up. “I think we should use the time we have. We should hike to that place on the map. And we need to do it as soon as possible.” He lowered his voice and added, “I’m sorry, but we have to get out of here, and what better place to go than where we can learn what’s going on? Whatever was in those darts caused this—we need to go where the darts came from. Maybe there’s something—some medicine that can cure this sickness. Who knows?”
It all came out sounding a little cold. Harsh. But Mark couldn’t disagree with him. He felt like he had to get away from here, if nothing else.
“We can’t leave Misty,” Trina said. But even her statement had no strength behind it.
“We don’t have a choice,” Alec countered.
Lana stood from where she’d been sitting against a wall and brushed
off her pants. “We don’t have to bear the guilt of this,” she murmured. “Let’s ask Misty. She deserves that. And we’ll do whatever she decides.”
Mark raised his eyebrows and looked around at the others, who were doing the same.
Lana took that as agreement and walked to the open door of the Shack. Without going in, she knocked on the frame and spoke in a loud voice. “Misty? How’s it going in there?”
Mark was perched on the ground where he could see inside. Misty was on her back but slowly turned to look at them.
“You guys need to go,” she said weakly. “Something is seriously wrong with my head. It feels like bugs are up there, eating away at my brain.” She took several deep breaths, as if saying just that much had sapped her strength.
“But, honey, how can we leave you here?” Lana asked.
“Don’t make me talk anymore. Just go.” Another deep breath. Mark could see the pain in her eyes.
Lana turned toward the others. “Misty says we need to go.”
Mark knew they’d become hardened—they’d had to, to survive the world since the sun flares struck. But this was the first time they were faced with leaving someone who still seemed so alive. Misty’s decision or not, he thought the guilt would eat away at him.
When he looked at Trina his resolve hardened. Still, he let Alec be the bad guy.
The former soldier had gotten to his feet and slung his backpack onto his shoulders. “The best way to honor Misty right now is to get moving and learn something that could end up helping.”
Mark nodded and followed suit, cinching tight the straps of his pack. Trina hesitated, then stepped up to the doorway, faced Misty.
“Misty …,” she began, but no more words came.
“Go!” the girl shouted, almost making Trina stumble backward. “Go before the things in my brain jump out and bite you. Go! Go!” She’d risen to rest on her elbows and screamed with such ferocity that Mark thought she might’ve hurt herself. Might have realized that she was about to face the horror that Darnell had gone through.
“Okay,” Trina said sadly. “Okay.”
The Toad was by far the closest friend to Misty, and he hadn’t said a word. He just stood staring at the ground, tears in his eyes. But as Mark and the others prepared to leave, the stout man didn’t move. Alec finally asked him what he was doing.
“I’m not going,” the Toad said.
As soon as he said it, Mark realized he’d been expecting it. No surprise at all. He also knew that there’d be no changing the guy’s mind. They’d be saying goodbye to two of their friends now.
Alec argued with him, as did Lana. Trina didn’t bother, obviously having come to the same conclusion as Mark. And just as Mark had predicted, the Toad didn’t budge.
“She’s my best friend. I’m not leaving her.”
“But she wants you to,” Lana said. “She doesn’t want you to stay here and potentially die with her. She wants you to live.”
“I’m not leaving her,” he repeated, and gave Lana a cold stare. Misty said nothing from inside, either not hearing or too weak to respond.
“Fine,” Lana said, not bothering to hide her annoyance. “Catch up with us if you change your mind.”
Mark just wanted to leave. The situation had become unbearable. He took one last look at Misty through the doorway before moving on. She was curled up into a ball, speaking in an odd voice, though it was too low to make out what she was saying. But as they walked away, he was pretty sure that the girl had been singing.
She’d snapped, he thought. She’d definitely snapped.
CHAPTER 14
They only made it about three miles before it got too dark to continue. And Mark was more than ready to stop, exhausted from the crazy day. Alec had to have known they couldn’t go far, but staying in that village was not an option. They were finally gone from it all, in the thick trees and fresh air of the woods, which helped drain some of the tension and emotional ups and downs of those last couple of hours.
No one said much as they made a simple camp and ate a dinner of packaged food brought up from the Asheville factories. Lana insisted they keep their distance from each other, so Mark lay on his side, several feet from Trina, the two of them staring at each other, wishing they could cuddle, at least. Mark almost scooted over to her about a hundred times but stopped himself. He knew she wouldn’t let him, anyway. They didn’t say much, just held each other’s gaze.
And Mark was sure she was thinking the same things he was. How their world had fallen apart once again. How they’d just lost three friends who’d survived the trek of horror they’d made—from the devastation that was New York City to the Appalachian Mountains. And of course she was wondering about the virus. Not a whole lot of happy thoughts.
Alec ignored everyone, studying the workpad they’d retrieved from the Berg. He’d made a rough copy of the map they’d found on it with a pencil and some paper, but he wanted to see if he could unearth anything else useful. He had his compass out, was making notes, and Lana was next to him, offering pointers.
Mark realized his eyelids were drooping. Trina smiled at him. He smiled back. Pathetic or not, at least they were smiles. He fell asleep, and then the memories came rushing in once again. Never letting him forget.
Someone is on their tail.
It’s only been a couple of hours since it happened in the city above them. Mark has no idea what it was, but he assumes it was a bomb set by terrorists or an explosion from a gas leak. Something that burned.
The heat is unbearable. As are the screams. He and Trina have fled through the subtrans tunnels, finding abandoned offshoots, going deeper and deeper. But people are everywhere, most of them crazy with terror. Bad things are happening all around—theft, harassment, worse. It’s like the only people who escaped the catastrophe above them are hardened criminals.
Trina found a box of instafood, left behind by someone in the chaos. Mark is carrying it now, both of them having already switched into some kind of instinctual survival mode. But others obviously have, too, and every person they look at as they run seems to know that Mark and Trina have something they want. And maybe not just the food.
No matter how many twists and turns they take in the underground labyrinth of filthy, sweltering hot passages, they can’t lose the man on their tail. He’s big and fast and has become like a shadow. Yet every time Mark looks back at him, he seems to disappear into some nook or cranny.
They’re running down a long hallway filled with water to their ankles, splashing with every step they take. Mark’s cell phone is providing the only light, and he dreads the moment it runs out of power. The thought of being in this place, alone and clueless as to where they should go, in complete darkness, terrifies him. Trina suddenly stops and grabs Mark’s arm, pulls him through an opening to the right that he didn’t see. They’re in a small room—looks to be an old storage closet from when this part of the system was still being used, back in the old subway days.
“Turn it off!” she says in a fierce whisper as she pulls him deeper into the room and stands behind him.
Mark shuts down his phone, pitching them into the darkness he was just worrying about. His first instinct is to panic and scream and wander blindly about. But it’s a brief moment of insanity and it passes. He calms his breathing and is thankful he can feel the touch of Trina’s hand on his back.
“There’s no way he was close enough to see us come in here,” she whispers in his ear from behind. “And he can’t be quiet in that water. Let’s wait him out.”
Mark nods, then remembers she can’t see him. “Okay,” he says quietly. “But if he somehow finds his way in here, I’m done running. We’re going to gang up and beat him down.”
“Okay. We’ll fight.”
Trina squeezes his arms and leans into him. Despite the absurdity of feeling such a thing at that moment, in those circumstances, he flushes from top to bottom, tingles and goose bumps all over. If only this girl knew how much he likes her. H
e feels a twinge of guilt that on some deep level, he’s thankful for whatever tragedy has occurred, because it’s forced them together.
He hears a couple of splashes in the distance. Then a few more, obviously footsteps in the water of the small tunnel outside their room. Then a steady beat of them, getting louder as their pursuer—he assumes it’s their pursuer—gets closer. Mark presses against Trina and the wall behind her, wishing they could somehow disappear into the brick.
A light flicks on to Mark’s right, almost making him cry out in surprise. The approaching footsteps stop. Mark squints—his eyes have already grown used to the darkness—and tries to see the source of the light. It moves and shines about the room, then settles on Mark’s eyes, blinding. He looks down. It has to be someone with a flashlight.
“Who are you?” Trina asks. She’s whispering, but her voice sounds like it came out of a bullhorn because Mark is so nervous.
The flashlight moves again as someone crawls out of a hole in the wall and stands up. Mark can barely make out any details, but it looks to be a man. A filthy man, his hair a mess and his clothes tattered. Another man appears behind him, and then another. They all look the same—dirty and desperate and dangerous. Three of them.
“I think we’ll be askin’ the questions,” the first stranger says. “We were here way before you, and we don’t like visitors none too much. Why are people runnin’ around here like cats anyway? What happened? You two don’t look like the type that comes a-callin’ for the likes of us.”
Mark is scared to the core. Nothing even remotely like this has ever happened to him. He fumbles for words, feeling like he needs to answer, but Trina beats him to it.
“Look, use your head. We wouldn’t be down here unless something horrible happened up there. In the city.”
Mark finds his voice. “Haven’t you noticed how hot it is? We think it was a bomb, a gas explosion, something.”
The man shrugs. “You think we care? All I care about is my next meal. And … maybe something nice dropped in our laps today. A little surprise for me and the boys.” He eyes Trina up and down.
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