Together in a broken wor.., p.27
Together in a Broken World, page 27
The chill bites into me as we cruise through the water, so I put on a sweatshirt and settle down on a bench in the cockpit. Aiden is at the helm. The wind pushes his hair back. His eyes dart back and forth between the mainsail and the genoa. He makes minor course corrections and an occasional tug on a line. He’s a joy to watch, even in my rapidly deteriorating state of mind. He’s instantly talented at whatever he does. I love him so much.
We’re making good time. The wind has held up, and we’ve been averaging just over seven knots. At that rate, it should take about four hours to get to our destination. We’re headed north along a long narrow waterway between Vashon Island and Seattle. Small houses tucked into the trees dot the landscape. Occasionally, a house built too close to the shoreline is half-submerged below the new waterline. It’s a surreal sight.
“Hey, Aiden. Remember one thing I wished we could do from before the Great Collapse?”
“What was that?”
“Going sailing.” I wave my hands around.
Aiden looks at me with a little laugh. “I have to admit, it’s pretty nice. But it doesn’t beat ice cream, does it?”
“I can’t argue there. I could really use some ice cream now.”
We both laugh, but a lone tear runs down Aiden’s cheek. He wipes it away quickly.
We’ve been sailing for a few hours, and I’m feeling worse by the minute. My coughing comes back in fits and starts, chills run throughout my body, and I’m shivering and sweating at the same time.
I’m hopeful we’ll find the bunker, and they can make a cure, but it feels like a long shot. I don’t know how much time I have left, and there are things I need to say to Aiden. I pause for a moment before I speak, choosing my words carefully.
“Aiden?”
He looks away from the water, and when his eyes meet mine, he can tell something’s up. “Yeah?” he asks tentatively.
“I have some things I need to tell you. Before it’s too late.”
He opens his mouth, about to say something, but then shuts it with sad nod. He looks as if he’s dreading what I’m about to say.
“If, for whatever reason, we don’t find a cure…”
Aiden’s face starts to crumple. “Zach—”
“Aiden. Please. I need you to hear me. If I make it through the fever—if I live through it, you have to—” What I’m saying feels surreal, like someone else is speaking. “I don’t want to live as one of them. Do you understand?”
Aiden wraps his arms around me, crying, and chokes out a reply. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“I need you to, Aiden. Please.”
He nods into my shoulder and whispers a simple reply, “Okay.”
“One more thing I have to tell you.” I look deep into his silver eyes and calm descends over me. I cup my hand on his cheek. “I love you.”
He gives a joyous laugh through his tears. “I love you, too, Zach. So much.”
We hold on tight like we’ll never let go. I want to live in this moment forever. Hit a pause on life and simply be here with him, in his warm embrace. Together, forever with the guy I love, who loves me back.
We stay that way for a long while, but my energy is fading. I finally pull away. “I need to rest. And you need to pilot the boat.”
I sit on a bench in the cockpit as Aiden takes the wheel. A few minutes later, I’m weak and lightheaded.
“I’m going to lie down for a bit.” I get up and take the first step down into the cabin and have to steady myself as I nearly fall over.
Aiden’s brow furrows. He puts a hand on my forehead. “Oh man, you’re really burning up now.”
He takes a bottle of ibuprofen from his jacket and taps out a few pills. “Take these. It’ll help with your fever. And try to get some rest.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” I pop the pills and wash them down with water from my pack.
Lying down on the bed in the cabin is not very restful, and the boat’s motion isn’t helping the unease creeping over me. A wave of nausea hits me, and I run for the sink just in time. The violence of the act sends waves of pain through my entire body.
So much for all that ibuprofen.
Soon I’m huddled up on the bed in the boat’s bow. I gather all the blankets I can find to cover myself up while shivering uncontrollably. Closing my eyes, I remember my mindfulness. I clear my thoughts and focus on my breathing. Meditation is difficult with the ever-present undercurrent of pain and discomfort. But it’s not impossible.
Somehow, I manage. My body and mind quiet. I push away all external senses and internal pain to make a place of darkness and solitude. Here, I’ll wait—a castaway on an island in my mind. I’ll wait to be rescued. I’ll wait for a miracle.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Homestretch
AIDEN
This sailing stuff isn’t so bad. I’ve got this.
No sooner does that cross my mind than the mainsail snaps wildly, losing the wind. I tug on various ropes, hoping to correct it. But now the genoa is snapping too. Damn it. The wrong rope. I undo my original error and finally get both of the sails trimmed. The boat is now cruising, cutting a course through the choppy water.
We’re getting close. We’ve made it all the way north, and the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard is to my left. Turning the boat will mean running perpendicular to the wind. It can be done. In theory. Zach described it to me, but I have yet to try it.
Down in the cabin, Zach is under a mountain of covers.
“Zach, are you awake?” I call down. “I might need some advice on tacking.”
No answer. My heart skips a beat.
I run down to him. Zach is burning up, and his breathing is labored. He’s not doing well. He looks so helpless and fragile, and it tears me up.
I head back up and try my best on my own.
I release the tension on the rope holding the boom. The sails immediately start flapping, making loud snapping noises as the wind rips through them. I turn the wheel to the left, and the boom flies to the right. The sail catches the wind with a loud snap.
I did it.
The sails are a little turbulent, so I let out more rope until they quiet down.
The boat slows as it cuts across the wind, but we’re still moving. It’s actually working.
The shipyard looms larger as we approach. Even with the sea level rise, the docks are awe-inspiring, with massive aircraft carriers, each the size of a small city, anchored alongside them.
With the boat headed in roughly the correct direction, I get ready for our approach. I put on my backpack, then head down to wake Zach.
I give him a little shake. “Zach. It’s almost time to go.”
He moves a little but only makes a grunting noise.
I shake him harder. “Zach. I need you to get up. We need to be ready!”
Nothing.
He won’t be able to move on his own. My only option is to dock this boat as best I can, then carry him out. This is going to be tricky.
As the shipyard approaches, I scan for the best spot to land. Next to one of the massive aircraft carriers is a floating dock. Moored to it are a few patrol boats. The dock bobs and weaves with the waves that splash against it. I get the sailboat close enough, drop the sails, and let the boat coast.
When we’re twenty feet away, I drop the anchor to stop the boat’s momentum. But the anchor doesn’t catch, and the boat keeps moving, heading straight for the dock. I try to course correct, but it’s far too late. The bow of our boat rams into the dock, and there’s a massive crunching noise as aluminum and fiberglass collide in an explosion of shrapnel.
The boat is taking on water through a hole in the bow. I throw our dinghy over the back and tie it down with a quick knot. Then I run to the cabin, splashing through the water that has already leaked in, and cradle Zach in my arms.
“Aiden?” Zach’s eyes flutter open as I carry him.
“Hang on, Zach. We’re getting close.” I keep my voice calm and soothing.
Back on deck, I set Zach into the dinghy, and I get in behind him.
As we paddle away, the sailboat sinks until, finally, only the mast is above water.
“Well, I guess it was a crash course after all.” I say under my breath.
Bit by bit, I paddle us to land. Massive aircraft carriers loom on either side of us, blocking the sun. I’m met with a new problem when we get to the dock. How will I get Zach and myself off the dinghy without tipping it over? Zach is like a one-hundred-fifty-pound sack of potatoes. Still, I hoist him over my shoulders in a fireman’s carry. The boat shimmies under my feet, but I grab the dock with my free hand to steady myself and crawl ashore. We’re on land.
Now to just find this damn place. DD4 and a red 3D rectangle. What in the hell could that mean?
I carry Zach up a long flight of stairs and along the main dock towering above the water. Eventually, I come across a sign reading Dry Dock 2 with an arrow pointing left.
Dry Dock 2. DD2.
“DD means dry dock!” I’m filled with hope. “Now I just need to find Dry Dock Four. We’re almost there!”
Zach responds with a barely audible grunt.
I keep on until I pass a sign that reads Dry Dock 3. Getting closer. Finally, the Dry Dock 4 sign is before us.
I turn and walk along the edge of the dock. It’s currently empty and falls a hundred feet. Peeking over at the precarious drop makes the hairs on my neck stand on end. I’m not afraid of heights, but this drop is bone-chillingly long, with no protective railing.
This is where they built these massive aircraft carriers. I saw it on History Channel. Once the ships were complete, they filled the entire dock with water until they floated on their own. But now, the dry dock is empty—just a massive hole.
Various buildings, cranes, and construction materials skirt the edge. I scan everything, looking for something that resembles a red rectangle. Then I see it. A hundred feet away, a bright red shipping container. A 3D rectangle. Against all odds, we’ve made it.
But as I approach, my worst-case scenario unfolds before me as Connor steps out from behind the container, holding a gun and wearing a smug expression.
Fuck.
I should have known. I should have been ready. But here I am, with my rifle attached to my backpack and Zach hoisted over my shoulder.
“Hello, Aiden. Finally here. Did you take the scenic route?” Connor aims the handgun directly at me.
I say nothing.
“Didn’t expect to see me?” Connor asks. “That code was easy to crack. Remember, I still have some connections at the Collective.”
I stare at him, frozen, not knowing what to do.
“But it was clever of the Collective to disable my biometrics.” He points over at a panel on the side of the shipping container. “I didn’t expect that. They still worked for me back in Boston after I ‘died.’” He makes air quotes to emphasize the word.
My anger builds, and the words spit out. “What are you talking about, you sick fuck?”
“Language, Aiden. After you left me for dead on that bridge six months ago, you took the vials. If you’d simply left them, none of this would have happened. Marcus would be alive. You’d be with him right now.”
My pulse rises and anger takes over. “You had something to do with Marcus’s death?”
“The vials you stole from me. They contained the same thing you’re carrying now—the weaponized version of XT58. Of course, you were kind enough to spill some onto the road, a bit of which I was able to salvage. It wasn’t enough to accomplish my plans. But it was still enough to kill.”
Connor’s words hit me like a freight train. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t!”
“Like a good worker bee, you finished our mission and delivered the vials to DC while I went back to Boston. I got there at 3:00 a.m., when the whole bunker was asleep. I tried to synthesize more XT58 from what you left on the road, but the sample was too contaminated. That’s when Marcus ran into me. I guess he always had problems sleeping when you were away. I didn’t have anything against Marcus, honestly. He just walked up behind me. He was as good as dead the moment he entered the lab.”
My blood is boiling, and my pulse thuds in my head. “You fucker!”
“I guess it was poetic justice. You left me for dead on the side of that bridge and took the vials from me. So I took Marcus from you. Being presumed dead was too valuable to me, so I knocked him out with a sedative. By the time he’d wake up, his fever would be so bad that nobody would believe he saw me. Ravings of a fevered mind.”
“Why?” I cry out.
“We want the same thing, Aiden. To find the cure. But the Collective will never do it. They have to be stopped. You’ll never understand that. You’re too naïve. So I’ll do what I must. I’ll kill who I must.”
“You bastard!” That’s all I manage. The world is crumbling around me. Connor is the architect of all my misery. He wanted the weaponized Infection all along, from our first mission together. And he infected Marcus. He killed Marcus. I want to strangle him with my bare hands. Now Marcus’s dying words finally make sense. He wasn’t accusing me of cheating on him with Connor. He was warning me about Connor.
“Now listen carefully. I need your handprint on that scanner.” Connor gestures to the control panel on the side of the container. “If I could, I’d just shoot you and drag your lifeless body to it. But it only works if they detect a pulse. If you try anything stupid, I’ll shoot Zach. First, set him down.”
I have no choice, so I do as he says. I lay Zach down, resting against the side of the container.
“Good. Now give me the vials.”
I take off my backpack, then fish for the aluminum box.
“Slide them over.” Connor gestures with the barrel of the gun.
I push the vials along the ground, but they only get halfway between us.
Connor rolls his eyes. “Just leave them. Come with me and open this door. Try anything stupid, and Zach dies.”
“Nobody in this bunker will help you while they are still breathing.” I spit the words out.
“Of course not. I don’t need them. Remember, I’ve recruited my own scientists. I just need to get into the lab so I can take their research. I’ll shoot anyone who gets in my way.”
Connor backs away, leaving lots of space between us. He gestures to the control panel on the container with its handprint scanner.
I walk up to the scanner and raise my hand. And I wait.
“Go on! What are you waiting for?” Connor yells.
This is my last chance. I’ll have to stop him or die trying. I draw in a deep breath as my training kicks in. My body winds up like a coil, ready to spring.
“Fine, I’ll shoot Zach instead.” Connor turns the gun away from me and aims at Zach.
His hand flexes, about to squeeze the trigger. I dive for the gun. A gunshot rings out, and a searing pain bursts into my side. I crumple in front of Connor. The pain is unimaginable, as if somebody ran me through with a molten hot knife, then twisted it. The sharp, searing pain fills all my consciousness.
Connor looks down at me, disgusted. “You had to be the fucking hero, didn’t you?” He grabs my palm and starts dragging me, streaking a trail of blood behind. I didn’t think the pain could get worse, but somehow it does.
“Well, I’m okay with doing this the hard way too,” Connor says as we reach the panel. He raises my hand to press it to the console. “Please, stay alive long enough to—”
The sound of a rifle shot rings out, and a bullet strikes Connor in the left shoulder. He howls in pain. The impact sends him staggering back, teetering toward the edge of the hundred-foot dry dock wall.
I turn my head. Zach is barely conscious but holds the rifle from my backpack next to him. Smoke rises out of the barrel. With one last burst of energy, I grab a metal cog from a scrap pile next to the container and throw it at Connor. It hits him squarely in the head.
Connor staggers back, his feet half over the wall edge. His hands pinwheel as he tries to regain balance, but his weight is shifted too far back. He disappears off the edge. His scream echoes through the dry dock, punctuated by a dull thud and then silence.
“I thought he’d never shut up,” Zach says just before I black out.
*
ZACH
I lie there, weak, fever raging, every muscle in my body screaming and aching. Aiden lies unconscious, with a pool of blood forming under him. I try to move, but my arms and legs don’t respond. So, I close my eyes and remember Curtis and his kindness. I remember my mother and father and how much I miss them. And I remember Aiden and my love for him. I dig deeper than I’ve ever dug before. Energy wells up inside me. It won’t last for long. I need to act quickly.
I crawl over to the aluminum box resting on the ground. The one that’s caused all this pain but also has the power to cure it. Getting to my feet, I lumber over to Aiden, lying next to the container. He’s still breathing, but his breaths are shallow. I put his hand up to the panel. A light flashes green, and the door opens up to an elevator.
I hook my hands under Aiden’s arms and pull with all my might. Somehow, I find the strength to drag him onto the lift and press the button. As we descend, Aiden’s eyes open slightly.
“Hold on!” I cry. “We’re almost to the bunker!”
He looks into my eyes. “I love you, Zach.”
I kiss his forehead. “I love you too, Aiden.”
He smiles, and then his eyes close. His face goes slack.
“Aiden! Stay with me!” I slap his face to wake him.
But he doesn’t respond, and I’m spent. I crumple beside him, with my arm draped over his chest.
The elevator takes forever. When it gets to the bottom, my reserves are depleted. All I can do is sit and stare at the large circular bunker door in front of us. Our goal is so close. But I’ve done everything I can. I have nothing left.
Even now, Aiden’s face is beautiful. I love him. If I have to die, this is how I want it to be. Next to Aiden. Together in a broken world. For eternity.
I’m barely aware of the bunker door opening. Shapes approach, and voices shout. Someone lifts my eyelid, and a bright light shines into my eye. The box I’m clutching is pulled away.
