Another vein, p.19
Another Vein, page 19
“Hey!” she yells through the open window as she kills the engine and climbs out a door that gives a rusted creak. She’s in a tank top that looks slept in and the same shorts she wore to the house last night. Her hair hangs in tangles.
“We need to talk,” she says as she makes her way toward me, unsmiling. She doesn’t even spare Allie a moment’s attention. “Now.”
I walk her off to the side, onto the sparse grass of the park, and out of Allie’s earshot. “Allie thinks she found Christopher,” I say. “Something about her bracelet and—”
Mikky shoves her phone under my nose. What’s in front of me is a message exchange, the interface one I recognize from the boards. “Read,” she commands.
I’m too surprised by her insistence to refuse. I read.
A-mean-o: got your message. think I’ve talked to your dude
A-mean-o: tried to recruit me yesterday
DefinitiveNothing: he wanted you to catch a revivor?
DefinitiveNothing: ????
A-mean-o: sorry needed coffee. Yeah no he got real aggressive quizzing me. Science stuff mostly. Once he figured out i knew my shit he offered me a job but it was sus bc he said it was a traveling position, room and board covered and he knew I didn’t have my degree. Idk sounded like a sex trafficking thing lol
DefinitiveNothing: wtf def weird. what profile name did he use?
My eyes slide to the next line. It’s there in black and white.
Guest206.
“Oh,” I whisper as I hand Mikky her phone and go for my own.
“Yeah,” Mikky says, agreeing with my sentiment. “You should read those messages he sent you.”
I’m one step ahead of her, opening my inbox, scrolling past the last exchange between Mikky and I before we met, when I thought she was some gross basement dwelling guy eager to get in my pants via rock concert, then where I told her I was at the arcade, to take down the pictures, that I would explain in person. How was it only a day ago?
“What did he say to you?” Mikky asks.
I scan the messages, one for each of the four days before Jonah was taken and four more in the time after.
…one of the most well learned persons on this website…
…hope you don’t find a bit of discourse insulting…
…need your expertise to help me with a problem…
Had his mystery problem been how to keep the black goo from killing Israel? If I had read these messages, if I had answered, could I have saved him? Once again, my pride got in the way.
Allie stands twenty yards away, finishing up her phone call, her relief palpable. Is there a chance we can entrap this asshole with no one else getting killed?
A mad plan spins through my head. We’re going to get Jonah and Christopher back. If marching in and taking them by force doesn’t work, I’ve got another card to play.
Mikky’s contact isn’t lying. The Doctor is scouting. Since he contacted me first, he’s working through his second, third, fourth choices. I’m the one he wanted. The science and secrets I bring to the table have currency. I’m not afraid to exploit them.
Not even at my own expense.
Mikky says my name in a question as I stare at the phone.
“Keep this between us,” I say.
“But…” Mikky’s face screws up as she starts to turn toward Allie.
I grab her upper arm and stop her spin. “We know where Christopher is, where Jonah is,” I say, though that isn’t strictly true. We’ve got a location on Allie’s bracelet. It could be latched onto Christopher’s pulseless wrist, his body abandoned. I glance at Mikky’s car. “Will you help us?”
She gives me a tentative nod.
“Okay,” I go on. “Best case, the Doctor doesn’t put up resistance. Worst case, I’ll use myself to get everyone else clear.”
“But how are you going to escape once—”
I shush her as Allie starts toward us, grateful for the interruption.
If there’s going to be a sacrificial lamb, there’s one person in this whole mess who deserves it.
Chapter 21
Allie
“Pull the car over,” I demand, my fingers gripping the handle in an empty threat no one notices. Trees streak by as Mikky drives down the road that leads to the school where Jonah was snatched, the school where, according to Talia’s tracking in my bracelet, Christopher is now.
Mikky’s hands flex on the wheel. Her attention darts from the road to Meadow in the passenger seat.
“Keep driving,” Meadow tells her. She’s got her gun in her lap, her touch drifting across each bullet before she slams the cartridge home again. She catches my eye in the rearview mirror, her expression all warning.
“We need a plan,” I reiterate. Desperation tinges my words. “Please. Stop the car. Five minutes.”
You’re a grenade, Christopher says in my mind and I remember how he begged me not to throw myself at the hunters. When I climbed into Mikky’s backseat, I didn’t understand that we were going immediately. Now, I’m trapped. “If we go in there without a plan, we’re not doing either of them any good,” I start again.
Meadow’s primal scream of frustration raises the hairs on my arms. In it is everything I feel, but can’t voice.
“They’re counting on—”
She whirls on me, an accusatory finger stabbing in my direction. “If my brother dies because you’re afraid—”
“I’m afraid of you bursting in there and blowing our one chance!” I yell. “There is nothing more in this world I would rather do at this moment than go charging in there. I need Christopher back. Jonah, too. I need them safe.”
“Wouldn’t want to miss out on your payday,” Meadow snarls.
I ignore her low blow. “Christopher wouldn’t want us to—”
“Honestly, Allie,” Meadow says. “I don’t give a shit what your boyfriend would want. You need a plan? Fine. I’m going to break into that school, shoot that demon bastard Doctor in the head, and take my brother home. That’s the plan. You’ve got about thirty seconds to get on board or I’m doing it alone.”
In the driver’s seat, Mikky pointedly clears her throat. “Uh, alone?”
Meadow leans forward to tuck the gun into the holster she’s wearing at her ankle. “Don’t think you’re coming, because you’re not.”
“Okay,” Mikky says, drawing the word into two. She sounds more disappointed than angry. “Is there a reason?”
“Yeah, I don’t need you in my way,” Meadow answers.
At her cold inflection, I flinch on Mikky’s behalf.
“This isn’t your fight,” Meadow adds, as if in consolation.
In any other situation, I’d be hard pressed to bring a civilian in on anything resurrectionist, but I don’t know what we’re walking into, what condition Christopher and Jonah will be in, if we’ll need help. Plus, Meadow’s got us going in there erratic and uncoordinated.
“Mikky will hold back,” I say, deciding. “She’s coming with us, Meadow.”
I clamp a hand on Mikky’s shoulder to let her know I’m on her team. I need her on mine. “Pull over,” I tell her. “Please.”
Mikky hesitates for half a second before she sways the car to the side of the road and throws it in park, despite Meadow’s heavy sigh.
We’re close to the end of the forest and the open area where the school sits. The main drive circles along the edge of the building and into the rear lot, the baseball diamond. There’s a single lane to what used to be a roundabout for parent drop-offs at the front of the school. Wild grasses have taken over the landscaped lawn. It’s not cover, but it’s what we have.
Now that Meadow knows where her brother is, she’s irrational in her need to get to him. I have to slow her down. It’s strange. A month ago, I’d be like Meadow, panicked and rushing to save him. But my trust in Christopher is unwavering. He’ll survive, whatever it takes. I’ll never give up on him. I will find him.
“Cameras?” I ask as I study the outline of the school through the trees.
Meadow scowls. “Who cares?”
“If he sees we’re coming, we’ll lose the element of surprise.”
She pauses as if waiting for me to fill in a blank I’m missing. After a moment, she gives up. “It’s daylight. There is no element of surprise,” she says as she opens the car door and clambers out onto the overgrown shoulder. “I’m done wasting time. He’s one guy!”
“And a little girl,” Mikky adds as she kills the engine.
I remember that little girl leveling a gun at me and pulling the trigger. I remember that little girl’s foot stomping my skull, screaming about her dead mother. “Do not underestimate her. She’ll murder you given half a chance.”
Meadow gives a derisive snort.
I exit the car and stand. My gaze travels from Meadow to Mikky. Other than our tiff in the gym, I don’t know much about Meadow’s skills. Can she shoot with accuracy? What if she cracks under pressure? Her little display in the car doesn’t inspire confidence. Meadow’s got her gun, but I’ve have one small knife and two sharpened hair sticks. Two minutes, I think angrily. If we’d gone back to the house for two minutes, I could have grabbed enough weapons to properly outfit us.
“There’s three of us,” I say. “A single mistake that gives Keeley the smallest opening and it’ll be two against two. One more mistake and it’s over.”
We’re going up against a man we know almost nothing about, in his territory, without even the cover of darkness. As much as I hate to admit it, Meadow’s right. Cameras, traps. We’re better off taking our chances. If he knows we’ve come, hesitating is giving him time to prepare. I’m breaking from the trees in a crouched run before the other two realize I’m moving.
Behind me, I hear the brush of the grasses as they follow. Moments later, I’m tucked against the tan brick, hunkered in the grown-over gravel flower beds beneath a window. The glass is long broken out of most of them. Plywood covers the worst of the holes, the panels warped and molded. I press my hand flat against brick gone cool with the morning chill. Meadow squats beside me. Mikky joins her.
I pivot to see them. When I do, Mikky tips her phone toward me. On the screen is a set of blueprints.
“How the hell did you get these?” I ask.
Mikky smiles. “I’ve got some skills to contribute,” she says before she returns to the diagram. “Twenty-eight classrooms.”
My heart sinks.
“We can’t search that many rooms without getting caught,” Meadow says, voicing my feelings.
Mikky nods in agreement and then drags a finger across her phone screen to reveal a second drawing on the same blue background. “There’s a basement area under the gym. One entrance and exit. If he’s holding them here, the basement’s a good place to look.”
Anxiety ripples through me as I drop my head with a groan. “I hate basements,” I mumble, but the sight of Mikky’s phone triggers another memory, another lesson learned. “Hey, put your phones on silent.”
As I tap the volume on my own, they follow suit. I cue up Talia’s name and shoot her a quick text.
At the school. Going in. I hesitate. Don’t forget me, I think, but my finger stays frozen above the letters. Finally, I type, Give me twenty before you send backup.
I figure I’ve got fifteen minutes before Talia reaches out to Meadow’s mother. According to Meadow, there are no resurrectionists around locally to help us, but Vieve Sweeney will move mountains to set rescue in motion. Maybe I should have Meadow call her, I think.
Here, leaned against the building, all I want to do is race inside. My instincts are screaming louder with every tick of the clock. I tuck the phone into my pocket.
“Meadow, you’ll take the lead,” I say quietly. “I’ll be right behind you.”
“Then me?” Mikky asks, sounding uncertain. When I glance at her, she’s staring at the plywood as if she can see through it and whatever’s on the other side is horror movie awful.
Yesterday, she found out her best friend is one of the people she’s been taught to fear. Now, she’s going up against the man we fear. “Don’t feel you have to—”
“Stop,” Mikky says. “I want to help.”
She sounds determined enough that I nod. “You’ll follow behind me. Try not to get yourself killed,” I add.
Mikky pales. “If I do…will you…”
I grab for her hand and give it a squeeze. “If I can, I swear I will.”
“They’ll be alive, Allie,” she says, barely audible over the early morning chorus of birds.
“Of course,” I answer, as if adding my own conviction will strengthen our invocation. Dust of dead brother, blood of boyfriend, three shared prayers for their safe return.
Except I’ve never believed in magic.
“We don’t have time for this,” Meadow mutters. She jiggles her fingers between the frame of the window and the plywood and shoves, separating the two.
I need to bring Jonah home and get myself and Christopher out of this mad damn world of resurrecting and murder and mayhem. I close my eyes for a beat and will it to be true. He’ll come back to me. I want my quiet life, my cabin in the woods. I want South Dakota. Most of all, I want more than five years with Christopher.
He’ll come back to me.
“Okay,” I say. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 22
Ploy
I wake up shuddering and sick, overheated and lethargic.
Fever, I think, half-delirious. Water. I need water.
“Allie?” I call even as reality sets in and I notice the folding table beneath me, the thin square of cushioned padding under my head. Allie’s not here. And I’m in trouble.
I groan.
“Hey,” someone says, and I crack open my eyelids to orient myself.
Jonah, I remember. The Doctor and Keeley and Jonah in his cage. They took his blood and injected me with it. What the hell did they do to his blood? What the hell is it doing to me?
“Hey,” Jonah says again.
I’m too sick to do much but give the kid a thumbs up to let him know I’m alive. It’s then that I realize the handcuff that used to chain me to the pipe on the wall is missing, which is the absolute worst sort of knowledge paired with the fact that I can barely keep my eyes open. There’s no chance of me standing, let alone freeing him for us to escape.
The Doctor wouldn’t unchain me unless he knew I wouldn’t be a problem. I’m guessing, like he said earlier, my current state of aliveness is even more surprising at this stage.
Well, let’s keep those surprises coming, I think, imagining his reaction when he comes into this gloomy lab and finds his cage empty of captive, his table bare.
I swing one of my legs off the table, feel the shift in my center of gravity as I get my hip over the edge. I’m weightless, hanging suspended for the briefest of moments, before I crash onto the cement floor three feet below. I land with a hard “oof”. Pain radiates through the bones of my hand, thrums into my elbow and back to my skinned palm.
“Hurry,” Jonah urges.
My stomach rolls. I raise myself inches off the ground on shaky arms before I collapse again. There’s no way. I gag hard, defeated.
Get up, I command myself. I conjure an image of Allie and remember the promise I made last night, that she and I, we don’t end.
I need to buy myself some time to rest while keeping Jonah calm. It’s best to get him to talk. “Why did they inject me with your blood?” I ask.
The color leaves his face save for two bright spots on his cheeks. Not the best topic to start with in retrospect.
He whisks a hand through his dark, shaggy hair. “He…he said he wanted to cure me. To stop me from resurrecting,” he says.
It never occurred to me that Jonah might be sick, too. “Are you alright? Feeling okay?”
He nods. “I don’t know what he gave me, but it wasn’t blood. It was yellow. When I woke up, he had me in this cage and Israel—“ He pauses. “Israel…” he tries again and trails off. His chin starts to quiver.
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “Meadow said Israel was your friend?”
Jonah crumbles. “I don’t understand!” he says. A steady stream of tears starts down his cheeks. He cuffs them away. “My blood, it’s supposed to help people. What’s happening to me?”
“I bet,” I say as I inch my arm toward Jonah. “Your sister will fix us both up, right? She’s got that super cool science stuff going on?”
He gives me a grateful nod and sniffs. My fingers claw against the cement. If I can’t stand, I’ll drag myself.
“My girlfriend, her name is Allie. She and Meadow, they’ll find us.” With each half sentence, I move closer to him. The conversation is costing me, but it’s clear he needs to hear we haven’t been abandoned. “Meadow and your mom? They haven’t stopped searching for you, Jonah. They even flew Allie in to help. I came with her.”
A pang shoots through one of my fingernails as it pries loose from the purpled skin underneath and bends midway. The same black lines I saw on the corpse in Meadow’s lab are vining their way up my arms.
It was Jonah’s tainted blood that killed Israel. The same tainted blood Keeley injected into me. It’s poison.
I’m going to die.
“Come on,” Jonah says in a stage whisper thick with encouragement. “Don’t stop. You’re almost here. Try to stand up.”
Sapped of strength, I have to take a break. I lay my head on my arm. The thought of standing is laughable.
“Is there a key?” I ask, my words breathy and weak. “A way to let you out?”
From his silence, I know the answer. Of course, there’s no key. My eyes slip shut. I’m so tired.
Jonah’s voice drops an octave. “Wake up,” he demands.
He sounds like his sister, spoiled and snarly and expecting people to jump when they say jump. I am not doing any jumping. If Meadow were here, she’d be livid I’m resting instead of rescuing her brother. Allie, too. “I’m awake,” I say, though it’s unconvincing even to my ears.
