by Teri Terry
They get in the truck.
“It’s my fault,” Mum whispers. “My fault. I’m so sorry.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s whoever or whatever caused this plague. Isn’t it? Now lock the doors,” Bryson says. He starts the truck, and we pull away.
Kai takes out his phone, looks at the screen. No text. He hesitates, presses “call.”
“Shay? What’s wrong? Where are you? Tell me!” Kai curses. He calls again. Waits and waits. He says nothing more: is there no answer?
“Kai?” Mum says. “What is it?”
“It’s Shay. She answered the first time, but she sounded all wrong. She wasn’t speaking properly, and then the phone went dead. Now she’s not answering.”
She frowns. “There aren’t any cases in that part of Scotland. It must be something else.”
He shakes his head, horror on his face. “She’s ill. She said something about the lights on the sun, like Craig did before he died. I have to go there.”
“Kai, you can’t.”
“I have to. I’m immune; nothing is going to happen to me.”
“But how?”
“I’ve got an immune pass to get me through roadblocks. I’ll go on my bike.”
“But what can you do?”
“I can hold her hand.”
Mum stares back at him, then slowly nods.
Shay…ill? With it? So many people have died already. Now she is ill too?
Kai’s face—his pain—makes me go to him and put my hand over his. Even though she was annoying, she was so alive—the way her eyes said things as much as her words. I somehow can’t believe it any more than he can.
“Where’s your bike, lad? At your house? Your neighborhood’s been cleared.” Bryson reverses around a corner. “Let’s go and get it. I’m ignoring all sorts of orders, but what are they going to do: court-martial me?” He laughs.
On the way he gives Kai hints for the trip: ways to go, ways to avoid. What to do and say at roadblocks. When we get home, Bryson gives Kai another immune pass.
Mum’s face is white. She hugs him. “Ich hab dich lieb.”
“Love you too,” he says.
“Promise me you’ll be careful,” she whispers. “I can’t lose you too.”
My name hangs between them without being said: I’m the lost one. I want to scream, “I’m right here! I’m not lost!” But what is the point when they can’t hear me?
When he gets on his bike, it’s like I’m torn in two. Do I stay with Mum? Do I go with Kai? There’s this fear inside me that whichever way I choose, I’ll never see the other one of them ever again.
I stand there, undecided, as his bike goes down the road one way and the truck goes the other. Soon both will be out of sight. What do I do?
Kai is the one who is going off alone. I fly after him and settle against him on the bike.
He turns and waves as Mum and Bryson disappear in the other direction, in the truck with Fred’s body in the back.
Bye, Mum, I whisper.
CHAPTER 27
SHAY
I’M THIRSTY, COLD. What life is left will soon be gone. I slip in and out of dreams. Whether they are waking dreams or sleeping ones, I can’t tell. They are just the same.
In one of them, my phone rings. It’s in my pocket, where it’s been all along. It’s Kai. I try to answer, to talk to him. His voice is insistent, he wants to know where I am, what’s happening.
But there are other things I want to tell him. That I love him. That’s crazy, isn’t it? I barely know him. But somehow, now, all I can see is truth, and it is there.
But before I can say the words, the phone falls away, out of my hand.
CHAPTER 28
CALLIE
THE FIRST ROADBLOCKS are within Newcastle and are much like the ones we went through earlier with Bryson. Kai takes his helmet off like Bryson said to, and waits his turn. Armed guards in biohazard suits peer at his pass and wave him through.
But the closer we get to leaving the city, the longer it takes—the more guards, the more guns.
When we’re finally about to leave Newcastle, it all looks very serious. Guns are in hands, ready, and everyone looks nervous, jumpy. There are heavy barricades on both sides, and the opening between is narrow. Only one vehicle can go through in either direction at a time.
Apart from a few army vehicles and supply trucks, no one is trying to get into Newcastle. The other way, though, is different: there are lines, long lines, of cars. One by one, they are turned back. Some of the people argue, yell. Cry. They’re not sick yet and want to leave before they are. But if they don’t have the right pass, they go nowhere.
Kai’s jaw is tight; he keeps clenching and unclenching the muscles in his arms and fists. We’re near the front now, just two cars ahead of us, and the jumpy armed guards are starting to watch him. It’s good that Bryson told him what this would be like, or Kai might have exploded by now. He still might, but—
Kai’s head turns; movement has caught his eye. The woman in the car in front of us is sliding across the front seat to the passenger side. She opens the door slowly and slips out of her car. The driver of the car in front of her has been arguing with the guards and refusing to turn back; now he’s being arrested, and the guards are intent on him as he is cuffed, dragged off. There’s a police van to the side there; he’s thrown inside it.
The woman runs for the gap in the barricades. One step, two, three, and then—
“Stop or I’ll shoot!” a guard yells.
She doesn’t stop.
The guard holds up his gun, and—BANG! The woman drops to the ground.
Red is spreading on her back. She was only a few short steps away from the way out. Kai draws in his breath sharply; he’s breathing in and out, shallow now. His eyes are wide.
Some of the others waiting behind us choose now as a good time to back up, to leave.
“Anyone else?” the guard who shot her yells. He doesn’t look right. Some of his fellows check the woman lying on the ground, then unceremoniously pull her by her feet, drag her out of the way.
Now it is Kai’s turn. He holds out his pass. The guard who just killed a woman walks over, takes Kai’s pass, studies it. His hand is shaking.
“You can go,” he says, and gestures toward the exit. Kai gets on his bike. He goes through but doesn’t go straight; he swerves to avoid the patch of blood on the ground.
From then on, Kai very carefully does all the things Bryson said to do. He takes the controlled route and keeps well away from Edinburgh and other affected areas. He slows right down whenever he approaches a roadblock, gets off his bike before reaching them and takes off his helmet, holds out his immune pass. He stands back and does his best to look calm when I can tell he wants to go, go, go, like the wind.
When we were still close to Newcastle, the roads were almost empty, and everyone was jumpy, like that trigger-happy guard. But the farther we go, the more traffic there is and the more relaxed they are. You can tell they don’t know what cleared means, or collected. There are no fires rising in the sky. Yet.
I lose track of time—has it been hours? We must be getting close by now. There are mountains. We cross over a bridge by waterfalls in a village, and a sign says this is Killin. Kai heads up a hill out of town; there is water sparkling below us. He slows down, watching the right side of the road, and turns in at a sign that says Addy’s Folly.
We drop down a lane; there’s a house below, with a car in front. Kai parks next to it, then almost falls in his hurry to get off the bike.
He races to the front door. It looks like the lock is broken.
He knocks and rings the bell but doesn’t wait long before rushing in. “Shay? Shay?” he calls out. He runs through the house, top to bottom.
No one is home. But either they’re very messy or they left in a hurry, packing things so fast that drawers and cupboards have been left open.
Kai sinks, defeated, onto the sofa, his eyes moving to that broken lock on the do
or. “Shay, where are you?” he whispers. There’s a big plush polar bear next to him on the sofa, and his arm reaches out around it. “If only you could talk.”
Moments later Kai gets back on his bike. There’s a house up on the main road just along from the lane, and he pulls in there.
He takes off his helmet and knocks on the door.
“Hello?” A nervous voice above. He steps back. An old woman looks down at him from an upper-floor window.
“Hello. I’m a friend of Shay McAllister’s. Do you know where she is?”
She shakes her head and leans forward. “Well, I heard that Shay and Moyra have disappeared!”
“Have they?”
“Oh yes. It was the talk of the town.”
“Their front door lock is broken. Has someone…?” And he can’t finish the sentence.
“No, dear. That was the army!”
“What?”
“Well, Shay had a temperature, and they were told to stay at home. There was even an army car at the end of their lane so they couldn’t leave! But when they went back to check her temperature the next day, no one answered the door, so they broke in. And they weren’t there!”
She looks a little too happy to be relaying such an interesting story.
“Do you know where they might have gone?”
“No, no idea, as I told that nice young army man. What was his name?” She looks confused, then smiles again. “That Moyra had friends all over; they could have gone anywhere.” She says “friends” like it means something else. “She didn’t believe in medicine, you know. She was a very odd woman.”
But Kai’s already putting his helmet back on; he’s stopped listening. He heads into Killin. He goes to the pub where Shay’s mum worked, to the café they’d been to. He asks everyone he sees, but they all say they don’t know where they are.
“What do I do now?” he says to no one. “I don’t know any of their friends, or where they might—”
He stops in midsentence, starts going through his pockets and takes out his phone. Goes into call history. There’s a number there from days ago, one without a name.
He hits “call.”
“Hello, is that Iona? Hi, this is Shay’s friend Kai. We met when—yes. That’s right. Do you know where Shay is?”
I slip myself against Kai’s ear so I can listen.
It’s a girl’s voice: “I’ve been trying to call her; she hasn’t answered, but she’s always losing her phone. I didn’t think much of it.”
“Listen, I’m in Killin. I came to find her. I called Shay from Newcastle hours ago, and she answered. She didn’t make sense; I think she’s ill. They’re not at home, and neighbors say they disappeared. No one in town seems to know where they’ve gone. I have to find her.”
“Oh no.” Iona’s voice is panicked. “I don’t know, but—wait a minute. I put an app on our phones to find hers when she’s lost it. I could try to trace her with that.”
“Where are you? I’ll come and get it.”
“I’m at home, but it’s miles away. Plus, well, my brothers have blocked the lane. They won’t let anyone near the farm. They’re convinced everyone has that Aberdeen flu. Oh—Shay; no. Do you think she…?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Wait a sec. I’ll activate the app and direct you.”
Soon Kai is back on his bike, going another way out of Killin. Around the other side of the loch. He stops a few times, speaks to Iona again, and keeps going.
She directs him to go down what is more of a track than a road, past piles of logs, felled trees. Eventually he has to get off the bike, leave it, and follow a path on foot.
He calls Iona again. “Are you sure this is right? I’m in the middle of the woods. There’s nothing here. Hello, hello?”
He curses. His phone is dead.
“Shay! Shay!” He calls out her name and punches a tree in frustration. “Shay, where are you?”
Kai’s anger is something he hides behind. He needs to find her; if he fails, he won’t be able to bear it.
Maybe it’s because he never found me.
I have to help him.
CHAPTER 29
SHAY
LIGHT AND COLOR DANCE in beams of sunlight. There is music too: the rustling of leaves on the breeze. The beating of my heart. The movements of insects on the floor of the forest, and the beat of birds’ wings. Their songs.
I’m dying.
I know I am.
It doesn’t seem so scary, not anymore. If Mum can do it, so can I. She’ll be waiting for me, won’t she?
Somewhere near me, I hear or imagine I hear a voice. Kai is calling out to me—calling my name.
Am I a foolish sixteen-year-old for thinking that I love him?
No. It might have been just a start, but there was a beginning there. Beyond just how he looks, how I respond to that. It was the way he struggled not to cry. How he couldn’t control his anger too. His good and bad, all wrapped up together, that somehow I knew needed me as much as I needed him. It was all a start that could have grown into more. Maybe it would have, if I wasn’t dying.
Kai’s voice calls my name again. And then there is another voice: a young girl’s.
She’s in here with me now. Her form is darkness. It cools my eyes to look at her.
Shay, you have to fight, she says, and she says it fiercely. Don’t give up. He can’t lose you too.
“Who are you?” I whisper.
She is still now. Staring. You can hear me?
“Yes. And see you.” Cooling darkness; shadows in sunlight. “Who are you?”
I’m Callie, Kai’s sister.
“He’s been looking for you.”
And now he’s looking for you. But you have to help him. He can’t find you; you have to call out. Say his name.
Dimly I hear “Shay” again and again.
“I can’t. I’m too busy dying.”
Call his name.
She’s insistent, and I try. My words to Callie have been quiet, barest whispers. My voice is harsh, rusty with disuse. My mouth too dry.
Do it!
“Kai,” I say. Still a whisper, one even I can barely hear.
Louder.
“Kai!” A little louder. And again: “Kai!” This time my voice is a little stronger.
Keep doing it. Scream! Remember the pain and scream it out.
“Kai!” I put all I have into the volume.
“Shay? Is that you? Where are you?”
He answered me. Is he really out there?
And again. Do it again.
“Kai!” This must be a dream, a cruel dream. He can’t really be coming to find me.
But I say his name, again and again: “Kai, Kai!”
“Shay?” He’s closer.
“Kai!”
And then he’s there.
He’s leaning over me. His hand is on my forehead, then stroking my hair.
“Shay?”
He’s crying, and so am I.
CHAPTER 30
CALLIE
SHAY’S EYES FLUTTER AND CLOSE. Is she dying?
Kai’s hand is on her throat, light, checking for a pulse. He leans over her, to feel her breath on his cheek. She is unconscious now, or she sleeps. Does that mean she will live? With others, when they could see me they died very soon after. They didn’t take a nap.
She’s in a weird tent shelter, and she’s not alone. On her other side lies a body: a woman’s body. Is this Shay’s mother? Kai gently smooths the hair from the woman’s face. Her eyes are open, staring and bloody, yet not with the mask of horror that some have had.
Kai picks her up and carries her away.
I stay with Shay, watching her breathe, counting her breaths, somehow knowing that the more of them there are, the more chance she has to live. And yet, apart from for Kai, I also wonder why I even want her to. She was annoying that day in Edinburgh with Kai, like he had an extra appendage that got in my way.
But she could hear me; she co
uld see me.
Live, Shay; fight to live.
Maybe I need you too.
CHAPTER 31
SHAY
WHEN I WAKE UP, Kai is still there. It wasn’t a dream.
I beg him to leave. “Please go. You’ll catch it, and you’ll die. Like me.”
But he won’t leave. He tells me some nonsense that he’s immune, that his mother is too. That he came to find me.
And that I’m a survivor. That some people get this thing, and they don’t die. And I’m one of them.
There is another voice; a dark figure. It says it is Callie, Kai’s sister. My half sister?
But no—she must be the Angel of Death. She’s come to take me away.
To join Mum.
Mum’s gone. I know it, even though Kai hasn’t been able to bring himself to tell me yet. Her body isn’t next to me anymore; he must have moved her while I slept. But I can taste the pain of it in Kai’s thoughts. And she said goodbye to me, didn’t she? She caught this thing from me, and now she’s gone.
The Angel of Death whispers that I’ve gotten through the worst; that the good and bad are finding a new balance inside me. That all I have to do now is decide to stay, and I will. But how can I, without Mum? And what if I make Kai ill?
“You have to leave me,” I beg Kai. “Before it’s too late.”
“No. Never.”
He holds me as I cry, and something has changed inside him. Some realization is there, one that mirrors mine.
He kisses me, so gently his lips are the barest brush on my skin. “Never leave me, Shay. Stay with me, forever.”
And I anchor myself to this feeling inside him. Something new, and fragile, but strong enough to make me want to live.
CHAPTER 32
