"So you don't have to!" Billy said.
"Jane. I don't want to kill him anymore than you do, but if it has to be done, let me do it," Kate said. "Put me in a hazmat suit. Let me take the blame for this. You don't have to."
"Tell them, Neal," Winter said, sounding heartbroken.
"According to our information, the only one in the Tower impervious to the virus is Designation: Solar," Neal said. "Her inherent immunity to all illnesses is the only one hundred percent probability of resisting the disease."
Jane looked down at her hands.
"You're the only one who should go," Emily said, standing up out of her chair to stand beside Jane. "The one who wants to do it the least. You'll make the right decision. Because you don't want to make the wrong one."
Jane nodded, put her hand on top of Emily's, and took a deep breath.
"Okay. Straylight, Em, help get Sam to that base. Keep him safe," she said.
"We will," Billy said.
"Kate, Titus, Bedlam, help secure the prison. Rourke, we have your cooperation on this?" '
"I've got my men looking for Prevention right now. She's no longer in command," Rourke said. "We're in this together."
"Anything happens to my friends, I will tear the entire Department apart," Jane said.
"It won't," Rourke said. "You have my word."
"Alley Hawk?" Jane said.
The old vigilante nodded.
"Thank you for risking your life for us."
"But you don't need a guy with a gut wound in this fight," he said. "I'm crazy, Solar, but I'm not an idiot. I'll sit this one out."
"Okay," Jane said. "I'm going to have a little conversation with Plague. Sam, I'm relying on you to tell me the truth."
"Always," Sam said.
"Jane," Titus interrupted. Jane looked to where he stood with a hand on Kate's shoulder. He unbuckled a belt around his waist and handed it to her. Looped through the belt was a very old knife in an well-worn sheath. He touched his own chest, indicating a specific spot.
"No," Jane said.
"If you need to," Titus said. "This is the heart. It will be very fast."
Jane stared at him, unblinking.
"You've changed, Titus," Jane said.
"I know," he said.
"Jane," Kate said. "Jane, please."
"Let me do this, Kate," Jane said. "You can't carry the world on your shoulders all the time."
"Neither can you," Kate said back.
"And that's why there's two of us," Jane said.
Billy took a step toward Jane, looking ridiculous in costume while carrying his tiny dog.
"Do you need help? You said you didn't think you could fly," Billy said.
"You've caught me enough times, Billy," Jane said. "Take care of Sam."
She smiled at Valkyrie, who stood patiently by the door.
"Will you help me reach the sky, Val?" Jane said.
"Of course," The storm said.
Together they walked, the storm and the solar-powered girl, Jane buckling Titus's belt tightly around her own waist, the weight of his knife strange and uncomfortable. They strolled side by side to the landing bay, to the edge of the sky, and Jane looked at Val, who nodded reassuringly. Jane took a step off the ledge, fist held high above her head, preparing to fly, but no flight came, just a slow descent, a drop that sent her stomach roiling. And just as fast, Jane felt the cool skin of Valkyrie's hand wrap around her wrist, lifting her up. Beside her, the storm flew with eyes closed, the clouds around them dissipating, revealing a gold, warm sky above.
Sunlight landed on Jane's skin, which glittered like diamonds at its touch. Her strength started to return and boiled up inside her, filling her cells. She felt warm again and heat from the flush of flames in her hands, in her hair, and within a few seconds she no longer needed Val's help. The storm released her grip on Jane's arm and the two flew side by side, up above the clouds, into the afternoon sky, Valkyrie leaving the thunder and lightning below them like a bad dream.
"Thank you," she said to the storm.
Valkyrie smiled.
Jane could see little flickers of lightning in her eyes.
"Be safe," the storm said.
Jane flew as high as her body would allow, to where the skin of the world touched the darkness beyond it, where the sun's light was most pure and undiluted. Jane glowed, lit from the inside, and she clenched her hands into fists until they burst into flames. She hung there a few seconds, at the apex of the planet, eyes closed, teeth clenched.
And when she opened her eyes, Jane could see all the way to Kirkland, could see the boy on his bench, waging his stupid war on the living. She pointed herself toward the dying town and left a streak of flames behind her like a rocket taking flight.
Chapter 58:
The dying
This place looks like a death camp, Billy thought. The entire military base had been converted into a hospital ward. Several hundred victims of Plague had intravenous tubes running out of their arms while nurses and doctors scurried from patient to patient to help them fight for their lives. The patients were from all walks of life, from old men to babies, and had been separated by the severity of their condition.
Neal and Winter assured them that the virus was not transmissible at this stage, but as a precaution instructed everyone — medical staff and superhuman alike — to wear small breathing masks and latex gloves.
"It looks like
Miracle Day
in here," Emily said, wide-eyed. "Without the inept dialogue."
Billy pushed Sam's wheelchair, despite the old man's protests that he was able to walk just fine on his own.
"Were you always this whiny, or is it a side effect of your new superpowers?" Emily said.
"Whatever happened to respecting your elders?" Sam said.
"I only respect my elders if they don't whine like babies," she said. "Also I get disrespectful when I'm freaked out."
"So you're freaked out all the time, then," Sam said.
Emily smiled at him from behind her mask.
"So what's the plan?" Billy asked.
"Sam?" Winter said. "I have no mental picture of how your powers really work. Is it touch-based? Proximity?"
Sam shrugged.
"I'm learning as I go," he said. "Bring me closer to the victims in the worst shape. And I'll see what I can do."
They headed back to a cordoned off area where a security guard in scrubs and a gasmask let them through. Emily snapped an efficient salute at him as they passed.
"You're awfully chipper," Billy said.
"Clown tears," Emily said. "I'm terrified."
"Me too," Billy said. He spoke silently to his partner. Any advice, Dude?
Let the old man give it his best shot,
Dude said.
This is unlike anything I have ever encountered before.
I should have gone with Jane, Billy thought.
Everyone has his or her parts to play,
Billy Case, Dude said.
And now it is Sam Barren's
.
Sam sighed heavily, closed his eyes, flexed his fingers.
"Give me a hand, Billy," he said, and Billy gave him a shoulder to lean on as he climbed from his wheelchair. "I feel so stupid."
"At least you got a power people want," Emily said. "I float stuff."
"And you do it really well," Sam said. "Okay. Okay. Here. Let me try."
Billy felt Sam's fingers dig into his shoulder as the old man closed his eyes and concentrated. At first, nothing happened, but then a red, pulsating light began to form around the old man, beating like a human heart. It gathered around him deeper and brighter, and then spread out, falling over the patients nearest him like a fog.
Winter gestured to the medical staff nearest him to watch the monitors, somehow conveying what he needed with a movement of his hand. The room became a flurry of activity, with doctors and nurses checking vital signs, taking pulses, examining their patients for any sign of change.
The red cloud drifted throughout the entire facility, and Billy felt Sam beginning to sway. Emily scurried to Sam's other side and draped his arm over her shoulder, helping to keep him standing.
"He's not looking good, Billy," she said.
Sam's skin was turning jaundiced, his eyes sunk into shadows. He appeared to be a man on the verge of death.
"They're improving," a doctor said in a loud whisper, beckoning to Winter. "Or . . . improving is probably the wrong word. They've all been in a state of steady decline for hours, and they've leveled off. He's doing something. I don't know what it is."
"I can see the virus," Sam said, his voice a gravelly whisper. "Just like I could make out your broken bones, kid. I could see it and I could fix it just by wanting to fix it."
"Can you destroy it?" Winter said. "Are you able to fight the virus?"
Sam's face scrunched into a pained grimace. His feet went out from under him, but Emily caught him with a simple gesture, creating a soft bubble of float for the old man to rest on. Together, she and Billy lowered Sam into the wheelchair, but that seemed to disturb his concentration. The red cloud started to dissipate, fade away, and draw back towards Sam as if retreating from the patients.
All throughout the facility, machines lit up, shrieking warnings as different patients grew immediately worse, returning to their prior state of illness. Sam hunched over in his chair, coughing so deeply Billy was worried an entire lung would pop out.
"What happened?" Billy asked.
"It was . . . it was like a struggle," he said, not making eye contact with anyone. "I pushed and the virus pushed back and . . . like a wrestling match. Maybe if I had more time to learn how to attack it, I could, but . . ."
Doctors and nurses began scrambling as the sound of patients crashing began to ring out all around them.
"Dammit," Winter said.
"You tried, Sam," Emily said, kneeling down next to the old man.
"I'll try again," Sam said. "Let me just catch my breath."
"You couldn't catch your breath with a butterfly net," Emily said. "You almost killed yourself doing that just now."
Winter looked at Billy.
"Kid. Straylight," Winter said. "We have to make a call on this."
"You're asking me to make a call on this?"
"Solar's your teammate. I can tell you what I would recommend, but I never killed anyone on purpose when I was on your side of things. I don't know if I could," Winter said. "You tell me. Does she have it in her?"
"She'll do what has to be done," Billy said. And she'll never forgive herself, he thought.
"There's got to be another way," Sam said. "This is foolish. All the technology . . ."
"If we had more time, Sam. If we had time to analyze it, to analyze your powers, to get a better understanding," Winter said.
"Utilitarianism," Emily said quietly. They all turned to her. "Jeremy Bentham. It is the greatest happiness of the greatest number that is the measure of right or wrong."
"Now is not the time to be weird, Em," Billy said.
"I'm not being weird. I'm trying to be logical here," Emily said. "I'm making you read when this is all over, Billy. I'm tired of being the only one who knows stuff. Immanuel Kant versus Jeremy Bentham. Ethics theory. Good of one versus good of many."
"Em, what are you doing," Billy said.
"Do we want to let some of these people die so we can figure out what happened to this Plague guy?" Emily said. "Do we let them die so that we don't have to make a decision? Or do we make one horrible choice to save all these people?"
Winter's face was blank. The old hero shook his head.
"Teenage philosophy doctoral candidate," Winter said.
"I'm a genius," Emily said. "And I don't want to see all these poor people die. Jeremy Bentham. The greatest happiness for the greatest number. We don't have a choice."
She is a strange little miracle, is she not?
Dude said.
She is, Billy thought.
"Stop talking to your alien and tell me what we should do, Billy."
"She's got to stop him," Billy said. "I'll make the call."
"I'll do it," Emily said.
"No," Billy said. "Put your earpiece in. Get Dancer on the line. We'll do this together. She shouldn't be alone when this happens."