The scarlet harvest, p.30
The Scarlet Harvest, page 30
I rip the tracker off my wrist and slam it on the ground. I drive my heel into it. Once. Twice. Three times. Over and over, I smash it with all my might, with all my rage, with all my heartache.
My heel throbs as the tracker crunches and crumbles underfoot. I snatch the shattered tracker from the ground and hurl it over the water. The tracker breaks the surface with a splash. It sinks, taking the pieces of my broken heart to the ocean floor with it.
A mosquito lands on my arm. I squash it and wipe away its sticky residue. What if I was too late? What if I reached the lighthouse after Dad had already released drones headed for Hillcrest? I picture Abe and Addie sleeping soundly. Spinning toward the fortress, I race to the tunnel.
Forty-two
My heartache and pain have been sucked into a vacuum. My heart is numb. My mind is numb. My body is numb. I felt nothing when I retrieved the rifle from the super-soldier I killed. No guilt. No regret. No sympathy.
I rap my knuckles against the cathedral’s back door. The sound barely penetrates the heavy wood. Stained-glass windows peer down at us like soulless eyes, dark and devoid of color in the pale moonlight.
Please let Fritz be here unharmed. The stillness of the night stirs doubts within me.
“Do it again,” Treb says.
I tap, tap, tap and step back, adjusting the rifle strap so it isn’t digging into my neck. “Is she still breathing?” I motion to Everly’s lifeless body in his arms. Her hair is wet with blood, her face bruised and battered.
Treb studies her face. “Barely.”
Red splotches cover his cheeks and neck. I wonder if his complexion is mottled from overexertion or from the virus.
I rest my hand on his shoulder. “I know you’re exhausted from carrying Everly for miles, but we can rest soon.”
The door cracks open. A male eye peers at us. “Who are you? What do you want?”
“Wren and Treb,” I say. “We’re here to see Fritz.”
The door opens wider revealing a balding, middle-aged man. He nods at the rifle. “I’ll take that,” he says, as if used to giving orders.
I lift the strap over my head and pass him the gun.
“I’m Ray.” He slings the rifle over his shoulder and focuses on Everly. “Is she dead?”
I shake my head. “She needs medical help.”
He holds the door open and gestures for us to step inside. The room contains dust-covered boxes, books, hymnals, candelabras, and candles. Ray slams the deadbolt into place and props a chair against the door.
“The nurse is this way.” He brightens his lantern. The flame licks the stone walls of the pitch-black corridor. Macabre shadows twist and turn and lurch at us. I shiver and pull my flannel tighter.
Every time we pass an empty hall, I tense up and hold my breath. I can’t relax. Look at what happened last time I relaxed. I glance over my shoulder at Everly. When Treb and I reached the place where we last saw her, I half-expected her to have walked away, but instead she was lying in a pool of blood, the flutter of her pulse as delicate as an eggshell.
Ray leads us through a door with a window in the shape of a cross. I hear the voices before I see the mostly male faces filling the pews. My heart soars with hope. My eyes search for Fritz. I push away memories of the last time I was here during the Harvest.
“Ms. Klein?” Ray calls.
A woman in a black pantsuit turns to face us. Two cowlicks converge at her widow’s peak, splitting charcoal bangs into a sweeping shoulder-length mane. Her alert eyes quickly assess the situation. She grabs a black medical bag from a pew and moves toward us.
That name: Ms. Klein. How do I know it? I dig through the pockets of my mind and empty each one until I find what I’m looking for. The day I went ziplining with Fritz, he mentioned Ms. Klein, his adoptive mother. My eyes drift to the space she left behind. Fritz!
Ms. Klein steps in front of me, obstructing my view of Fritz. She places her fingers against Everly’s neck. Then, she lowers futuristic-looking glasses from the top of her head to the bridge of her nose.
The lenses produce a soft light that travels down Everly’s limp body. “Gunshot wounds… internal bleeding… spinal fracture.” Maybe the glasses give her x-ray vision or the ability to assess injuries somehow.
Ms. Klein props the glasses on her head. “Place her on the altar. Very gently. Ray, assist please.”
Treb lowers Everly on the altar while Ray cradles her head. Treb’s gray uniform is smudged with blood. Prisha rushes to him and asks what happened.
Ms. Klein catches her breath when her eyes meet mine. “Oh my.”
She looks familiar. I glance at the weathered, sunbeaten faces of the men and women sprawled across the back of the pews with their feet propped on the seats. It’s apparent from Ms. Klein’s pale skin that, unlike the others, she hasn’t worked a single day in the fields.
“Have we met?” I ask.
“I believe we have. A long, long time ago.” Her voice sounds warm and refined. It lacks the undercurrent of suspicion that sharpens the voices of people from the Valley.
Ms. Klein backs away and hurries to the altar. She unzips her medical bag, retrieves supplies, and inserts an IV into Everly’s hand. Ray fetches a music stand.
Ms. Klein hangs a bag of fluid from the stand and sits on the stool used by Dr. Jensen during the egg extraction ceremony. Memories of the procedure and the resulting hallucination flitter across my mind. I quickly look away from the altar and statue of Mary and find Fritz at my side.
“What are you doing here?” Fritz’s voice is laced with anger.
“Gregor changed the time of tomorrow’s wedding ceremony to five o’clock.”
“You should have stayed at Headquarters. It’s too dangerous to be roaming the streets while the entire city is on lockdown.” He nods toward Everly. “That could have been you.”
I bite my lip and look at my feet. The emotions I thought I had suppressed rise to the surface. Grief and guilt. Guilt and grief.
Fritz wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. I press my cheek against his chest and close my eyes. I feel safe in his arms.
“You’re shaking,” he says.
“I’m okay,” I lie. I want to tell him everything. The tunnels. Everly. The soldier. The drones. Dad. The mosquitoes. Treb.
My spine stiffens.
I pull out of the embrace and look into his eyes. “Did you find the vaccine?”
Fritz nods.
“Is there a cure?” I beat back tears at the thought of Treb succumbing to the virus. It would be my fault. Just like what happened to Everly was my fault.
“What’s wrong?” Fritz looks worried as he scans my face.
“A mosquito bit Treb.” I swipe at my eyes, preventing tears from falling.
Fritz exhales and his features soften as if the news wasn’t as bad as expected. Using his thumb, he brushes away the remaining wetness under my lower lashes. “They would never release infected mosquitoes in Ovation.”
“They were infected, Fritz.” I say in my best trust-me-I-know tone. I’m too exhausted to explain how I know.
“Are you sure?” He examines Treb from afar.
Treb stands at Everly’s side talking to Prisha. He looks tired but far from death. Ms. Klein withdraws metal tongs from one of Everly’s wounds. The bloodied bullet gleams and pings when dropped in a nearby bin.
Ms. Klein closes the gash and stops the bleeding. How does a nurse from the Valley know how to treat bullet wounds? What if she could help Treb and Dr. Hahn?
I take Fritz by the hand and approach the altar. We unlock hands and stand silently as Ms. Klein removes another bullet. “Ms. Klein?”
“Hmm?” She keeps her eyes on Everly’s wounds.
“Someone else is hurt. At Headquarters. Maybe you could help?”
“What type of injury?” She sterilizes a patch of skin.
“I don’t know. Blood was seeping from Dr. Hahn’s chest. He was slipping in and out of consciousness.”
The gloved hand maneuvering stitches freezes in midair. Ms. Klein stares blankly for a moment before pushing her glasses to the top of her head and swiveling her stool to face me. “August?”
“Yes,” I say softly.
“Where is he?” she asks, peeling off her gloves.
I look at Fritz. He trusts her so I can trust her, right? His nod gives me the assurance I seek.
“He was tied up in the Nuclei conference room.”
Ms. Klein frowns and stands. “You will take me to him.”
Fritz says, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Look at the damage a single super-soldier inflicted on Everly. Headquarters is swarming with hundreds of soldiers.”
Unperturbed, Ms. Klein insists. “I am Dr. Lenore Klein. Dr. Hahn is my colleague and friend.”
Fritz looks stunned, as if her words hit him over the head. Empathy moves me to reach for his hand. Today, we both learned our lives were built on lies.
“I will take you to Dr. Hahn,” I say, “but first, Treb needs our help. He was bitten by a mosquito infected with the DBH virus.” I nervously slide my eyes toward Treb. “He isn’t immune.”
Dr. Klein sucks in a breath. Her hand flits to her throat. She looks closely at Treb. “Where were you bitten?”
Treb points to his neck. All the color has drained from his face, as though the mosquito took a pint of blood instead of just a pinch.
Dr. Klein rummages through her bag and withdraws a pen light. She puts on her glasses and aims the narrow beam at Treb’s neck. She examines the mosquito bite and then tosses the light in her bag. “To the lab immediately. He must be quarantined away from the others.”
“Haven’t they already been vaccinated?” I ask, looking at the men and women scattered around the room, most of them wearing work uniforms.
“They have,” Dr. Klein lowers her voice, “but it can take days or weeks for a vaccine to be effective.” She turns to Ray. “Sit with the girl and alert me if she wakes.”
I’m relieved someone other than me has taken charge. My heart is broken. My nerves are frazzled. My mind reels with images of what tomorrow could bring.
Dr. Klein advances toward a door behind the sanctuary. She flattens her fingers against the door and the lock disengages. Microchip. Fritz and I exchange looks. How did she hide her identity for decades in the Valley?
I shield my eyes from the bright overhead lights as Fritz, Treb, Prisha, and I follow Dr. Klein into an expansive underground lab. She turns a corner and motions for Treb to sit at a quartz island while she approaches a transparent refrigerator.
She removes a vial and turns it upside-down to force a drop of liquid into the slide attached to the top of the vial. Holding the vial up to the light, she rotates a dial on her glasses and examines the slide. She picks different vials and repeats the process.
Prisha says, “Wren, I’m not going back to Headquarters. I feel safer here, and besides, I can’t bear the thought of marrying one of those Neanderthals.” Her eyes dart around the room and land everywhere but on my face.
“That’s okay, Prisha. Thanks for convincing Valley residents to come to Ovation.”
“I didn’t really do anything. My dad did all the talking.” Prisha chews on her fingernails and avoids eye contact.
“We couldn’t have done it without you,” Fritz says.
Prisha keeps a safe distance from Treb and asks, “Do you have any symptoms? Fever? Nausea?”
“I don’t think so.” Treb hunches over, intently watching Dr. Klein.
“This one.” Dr. Klein holds up a vial and walks toward Treb. She unwraps a syringe. “Roll up your sleeve.”
Treb wipes his palms against his pants and then cuffs his sleeve. “Am I going to die?”
“You are not going to die,” says Dr. Klein.
“There’s a cure?” I ask.
Dr. Klein injects the liquid into Treb’s arm. “If Delilah had her way after she created the virus, there would be no cure. Thankfully, Shiko and I had the foresight to develop one, but quantities are limited.”
“Delilah created the virus?” My eyes widen. “But she couldn’t have known it would be used to kill innocent people?”
Dr. Klein bandages Treb’s arm. “It was her idea to cleanse society of the genetically inferior. She created the virus for that very purpose.” She shakes her head in disapproval. “I never thought August would go along with the plan after she passed.”
I splay my hands across the quartz countertop. The DBH virus. Delilah Beckham Hahn. I study my hands. Delilah’s hands. If I could cleanse my cells of her noxious DNA, I would scrub every bit of it away. My blood pressure starts rising.
Fritz places his hand over mine and leads me to a quiet corner. Dr. Klein’s eyes follow. She must experience déjà vu when she sees a young version of Delilah and August together.
Fritz encloses my hands in his. “You’re still shaking. Your eyes are red. Are you okay?”
I hesitate and nod. His sweet demeanor and soft touch make me want to melt into him and admit I’m not okay. But I don’t want to talk about it. Not here, not now.
“Come with me.” Fritz leads me to the stairs where we can be alone. He sits on the bottom step and motions for me to sit next to him. Still holding both of my hands, he leans in close. “You don’t have to maintain the tough façade with me.”
I bury my face in his chest, soaking up the warmth of his skin against my cheek, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He strokes my hair and holds me tightly. Time slips by. No words are exchanged; no words are needed.
As I fight to keep my head above an ocean of emotions, to avoid succumbing to a powerful undertow of guilt and sorrow—his energy is steady and soothing: a rock to which I can cling. Calmness washes over me.
I sit up and look into Fritz’s eyes. I tell him how Everly risked her life for me and Treb. I tell him about the drones and my dad’s betrayal and death. He listens without interrupting and lovingly caresses me as I share my pain, telling him everything.
“I’m going to marry you, Wren Weiss. We’ll build a house over a waterfall and grow old together. We’ll have our own family. A boy and a girl.” He kneels on the floor and plants kisses on my belly.
“Stop, that tickles!” I shriek with laughter and clutch his unruly curls, pulling his face away from my stomach.
He rises to his knees and rests his forehead against mine. My heart twitters into a tizzy. The anticipation is unbearable. I want him to kiss me. He kisses my cheek and playfully rubs his stubble against my face before leaving a whisper of kisses down my neck.
I wrap his hair around my fingers and gently move his head until his eyes and lips are within an inch of mine. “Stop teasing me.”
As if given permission, he kisses me so softly and sweetly. I part my lips, inviting more. He accepts my invitation, kissing me more deeply. He slides a hand under the edge of my shirt and strokes my lower back. A wave of ecstasy rushes through me sending chill bumps up my spine.
I pull away from our kiss and study his face. I feel like I’m free-falling, plummeting toward something that’s simultaneously wonderful and scary and exciting. From the tender look in his eyes, I think he feels the same.
“Have you ever been with a girl?” I ask sheepishly.
“I’ve never met a girl I wanted to be with until you.” He cups my face and runs his thumb over my chin.
The stirring of unfamiliar feelings warms me. The sadness I’ve been carrying is swept away by dreams of the life together he described. I cradle his face and pull him in for another kiss.
“This is for you.” He places a necklace over my head.
I examine the gold disk hanging from it.
“Press the back of the pendant,” he says.
I squeeze the pendant. It projects Fritz’s voice: “I’m going to marry you, Wren Weiss. We’ll build a house over a waterfall and grow old together. We’ll have our own family. A boy and a girl.”
“You were recording us?” I’m surprised and overjoyed at the sentiment.
“I wanted to give you something special, just in case.” He kisses me softly.
I don’t want to think about the just in case he mentioned. I tuck the necklace into my shirt, grateful for the thoughtful gift and grateful for Fritz.
“Break it up, you two.” Treb rounds the corner ahead of Prisha and Dr. Klein.
I redden and jump to my feet. Fritz stands and possessively wraps an arm around my waist. The warmth of his hand and the certainty in his embrace makes me feel like we can face anything together.
He winks at me. “If we get separated tomorrow, we meet back here, okay?”
I nod. Everything will be okay with Fritz at my side. I just know it.
Dr. Klein climbs the stairs. “I’ll check on the girl and get Treble a change of clothes. Then, we will go to Headquarters.”
“Mom, I wish you would stay here,” Fritz protests. “You can tend to Dr. Hahn tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow may be too late.” Dr. Klein pushes the door open. “Don’t worry, Fritz. Ray will accompany me.”
I squeeze Fritz’s hand as we enter the sanctuary.
Forty-three
Preparation for the wedding ceremony has been underway for hours. Blooming flower arrangements color the auditorium in festive reds, oranges, greens, and yellows. Lucindas weave tropical orchids through the solandra vine covering the wooden arbor erected on stage. A narrow carpet unfurled from the stage divides the room between super-soldiers and their brides.
After Ovation residents were escorted out of the auditorium to create space for the soldiers, Lucindas distributed white Harvest dresses and heels to the brides-to-be. I declined the heels, kept my tennis shoes on, and advised Clover and Maris to do the same. Thankfully, the dress has pockets, so I was able to transfer weapons from my jeans.
