Inhuman (42 page)

The moment we touched down on Arsenal, Everson took me to the infirmary, running interference on anyone who tried to question me. Two guards were stationed outside my father’s room. Everson didn’t follow me in.

I found Dr. Solis sitting by my dad’s bed. My father was pale and sleeping, with his chest and leg encased in bandages. Dr. Solis rose and gestured for me to take his seat. “He’s badly cut up, but he doesn’t have Ferae.”

“And he’ll be okay?” I asked, touching my father’s hand. He was so warm. Fevered?

Dr. Solis hesitated. “We’re going to have to amputate his leg, Lane,” he said gently. “I can’t promise that he’ll survive the operation.”

“Amputate?” I echoed hollowly. “That’s the only choice?”

Dr. Solis looked grim. “It’s the only choice here, on Arsenal. In Iowa City the patrol has a surgery unit that might be able to repair the nerve damage….”

“He’s under arrest. They’re not going to fly him over the wall.”

“Actually, that’s exactly what we’re going to do,” said a female voice from the doorway. I twisted to see a tall woman enter. At least I thought she was a woman. It was hard to tell through the transparent surgical mask that covered half of her face. It fit so snugly that it flattened her features like a stocking-faced thief’s.

“Lane, this is Ms. Ilsa Prejean,” Dr. Solis said.

Everson’s mother!

Her hair was shaved as short as a line guard’s and she wore latex gloves past her elbows. Guess the rumors about her germ phobia were true.

“Hello, Lane,” she said.

I nodded in return, noticing she didn’t offer me her hand. Didn’t matter. It was her other offer that interested me. “You can get my dad back into the West?”

“Yes, I’ll have you both flown to Iowa City in my private hovercopter.”

I eyed her, trying to spot the catch. “Why would you do that?”

She waved a gloved hand at my father as if it were obvious. “Mack allowed us to test the inhibitor. The infected people in Moline wouldn’t have touched it if a line guard had marched in and offered it to them. But they trust Mack. Not only did they take the inhibitor, they told him in detail how the medication was affecting them. The information he brought back is invaluable. The least Titan can do is fix up his leg. And you, Lane?” Her mouth widened under the stretchy surgical mask. A smile maybe, though smooshed. “Because of you, Everson brought in twenty-nine of the missing strains.”

I gasped and looked to Dr. Solis for confirmation.

He nodded. “We just took a big leap forward toward finding a cure or at least a vaccine. Thanks to you, Lane.”

“No,” I said. “It was Everson. I only showed him where the blood samples were stored.” He’d been right to make those samples his priority, even if they weren’t mine. Those missing strains would go a lot further toward helping Rafe and millions of other people than anything I’d done.

“So,” Ms. Prejean said, clasping her gloved hands. “I will get you and your father safely back into the West. Consider it payment for services rendered.”

I slumped. “My dad can’t go back. If he does, Director Spurling will have him executed.”

“No, she won’t.” Ms. Prejean sounded pleased with herself. “Not if I say that Mack has been working for Titan all along on a classified assignment.” Her eyes — pale gray like Everson’s — crinkled over her transparent face mask. “Biohaz can’t arrest him if he had authorization to enter the Feral Zone. And there is no higher authority than me when it comes to the quarantine line.”

Within the hour, I accompanied the gurney bearing my father through the camp and across the shadowy bridge to the landing pad where Ms. Prejean’s hovercopter waited. Along the way, guards stared at my dad, but none gave me a second look. And why would they? I was just a medic in green scrubs thanks to Dr. Solis.

Once the guards had gotten my father safely aboard the hovercopter, I headed for the edge of the landing pad where Everson stood in a pool of light talking with the pilot. We hadn’t spoken since he brought me to my father in the infirmary. The pilot glanced from him to me and quickly excused herself.

“I wanted to thank you,” I said, joining him by the lamppost.

He nodded, a line guard once more, ramrod posture and no hint of emotion on his face under the bandages.

There were several other guards on the landing pad and two more by the gate to the bridge. I knew why he was being so formal — they were watching — and I knew I should let it go. But we were standing so close to the dark, land-mine-strewn hill where we’d met just days ago and seeing him with the same cool expression as that night, appearing so unchanged, made it feel as if our trip to the Feral Zone had never happened. And that stung. But I didn’t know how to draw out the boy underneath the military bearing. “Well, thanks and … good-bye.”

He dropped his gaze to my medic shirt, eyeing it as though it was transparent. Long enough to make me uncomfortable.

“Um, what —”

He stepped closer and slid his hands under my hair. As his fingertips tickled the back of my neck, I grew still, surprised that he’d kiss me here. Not that I cared if the other guards watched. I wanted him to, in spite of the ache that had filled me since Rafe had disappeared into the darkness. As I tipped my face up to his, a small weight lifted from my chest and Everson drew back — no kiss.

He held up a gold chain in the sliver of space between us, letting my dial dangle. My cheeks grew hot. But then my embarrassment over mistaking his intention gave way to panic. I couldn’t let him confiscate my dial. Those images were all that I had left of Rafe and Cosmo, and I needed to remember their faces. For them and for me.

“Put it in your pocket,” Everson said quietly. “If a guard sees the chain, he’ll know what it is even if you hide the dial under your shirt.” He pressed it into my palm and curled my fingers around it.

A wash of gratitude warmed me and I stuffed the dial deep into the pocket of my scrubs. “Thank you,” I whispered.

He gave the barest nod.

“Will you let me know when you’re back in the West?” I asked.

“It won’t be anytime soon,” he said, relaxing a little. “Mack’s fetching days are over, and not just because of his leg. But someone’s got to take medicine to the manimals in Moline or they’ll start mutating again.”

“You would do that?”

“First, I have to get them to trust me.” He smiled faintly. “I didn’t make such a good impression last time.”

The hovercopter’s rotary blades started to hum behind me.

“Go to the mayor of Moline,” I said in a rush of words, the solution clear in my mind. “Tell Hagen what happened to my dad. She’ll want to know. And then tell the whole compound about Rafe — how he killed the rogue like he said he would. But that” — the ache in my chest intensified — “he paid a terrible price to keep them safe. And be sure to tell them that you’re his friend.”

A flush crept up Everson’s neck. “Some friend. I would have left him in the zoo.”

“He’d understand. He told me to leave him behind if I got the chance to escape.”

“But you didn’t,” Everson said, his voice huskier than usual.

The wind from the hovercopter whipped my hair around my face. I turned to see a guard wave at me from the ’copter’s open door. “I’ve got to go.”

“Stay out of trouble,” Everson said, only half joking. “And stay on your side of the wall.”

As I nodded, the hill behind him caught my eye again. Only three days had passed since I’d come skittering down to the landing pad. Not much time at all, and yet I felt so different. More like the girl Everson thought I was — the one who did bold, unpredictable things. Who took action …

“You better —” He gestured
one moment
to the beckoning guard.

I leaned up, slipped my fingers into his cropped hair, and brought his mouth to mine. Everson froze, then his arms tightened around my waist, and so I deepened our kiss. This time when our lips parted, he was the one who looked slightly dazed. “What was that?”

“I didn’t want to miss the moment,” I said lightly. “See you around, Cruz.” I would, too. I just didn’t know where or when. As I headed for the hovercopter, I glanced back to see a very unguard-like smile on his face.

I sat by my father’s gurney as the hovercopter lifted into the air. My dad twisted and muttered urgently as we flew toward the Titan wall, which was as imposing as ever. I touched my dial in my pocket. No one had patted me down or checked my bag when I came aboard. Maybe the guards thought that frisking a guest of the CEO would be overstepping their bounds. And so I was taking home hours of raw footage — enough to keep me busy, editing, for a long, long time. Because, as I’d learned, the fastest way to get people to care about neglected animals was to show them the animals. And I would — someday.

My dad stirred and then opened his eyes, but he was so pumped up with painkillers, he looked at me without recognition.

“Dad, it’s me. I’m here.”

His forehead shimmered with sweat. He was barely conscious. “Lane? You’re not real.”

“I am. See?” I gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Delaney?” His brows drew together. “Where are we?”

“In a patrol ’copter. Everything is going to be fine,” I assured him.

“What’s happened to you?” He struggled to sit up and winced. “Your face … are you hurt?” He was working to call up each word.

“It’s just dirt, Dad. Nothing to worry about. Go back to sleep.”

He blinked, fighting the drug coursing through him.

“Hey, want to hear a story?” I asked.

His expression softened and a corner of his mouth lifted. “About a brave little girl?”

“No, about a girl who’s not so little and way too tame,” I said. “But she did go on an adventure to find her father. She took the tunnel under the mountain and didn’t get blown up by the harpy eggs. She made friends with a killer robot, who didn’t like killing at all. And she found the wild boy who lives all alone in a castle.”

Now, my father looked at me, completely present for the first time. “You found Rafe?”

My heart clenched as I nodded. “He helped me, looked out for me. We became friends.” Or was it more than that? I shook off the thought, not wanting to pull apart my feelings for Rafe just yet. Not when picturing him fevered and alone made me want to sob myself sick.

“In the Feral Zone?” My dad’s fingers tightened around mine. “Lane, I … I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I get it now — why you like coming here. Why you feel you have to.”

“I should have told you.”

“You did.” I lifted our hands and rubbed my cheek over his knuckles. “Every night before bed.”

His eyes drifted closed once more. “I just wanted you to be safe … and happy,” he mumbled.

I stared out the window and didn’t share the thought that had come into my mind:
Safe and happy don’t always go together.

With his eyes still closed, my dad began to murmur. His words were soft and blurred, but I recognized the way they rose and fell. It was the rhythm of a bedtime story. Gasping, he tried to finish a nearly inaudible thought. “And they … they loved …” And he fell into a deep sleep once more. But I knew how the story ended — how all of his stories had always ended — and so I finished it for him.

“And they loved happily ever after.” Leaning down, I kissed his cheek. “I’ll try, Dad. I will, but this story isn’t finished yet.” The hovercopter zoomed over the wall’s ramparts and the line guards stopped marching to send up a salute. “Not even close.”