Poveglia (After the Cure Book 4) Page 6

  Eleven

  The generator room was so dark, Dan almost stumbled into her. She flipped her camera’s light on to help him.

  “You ready?” she whispered.

  He nodded. “Two are coming with us, they’re going to draw their weapons and chase us. The others know to keep the peace here. But you have to make it convincing.”

  “When?”

  “Plant manager is going to call an end to shift in about five minutes. We’ll do it in plain sight as they come up the stairs so there’re no rumors later.”

  Sevita nodded and waited silently. Dan fidgeted with his uniform, checking pockets and the small supplies he was able to conceal inside it. She handed him the radio without speaking. He stared at it a moment and then looked up at her. She shook her head.

  “We’ll try again later,” he whispered. He pulled a small leather sheath from his pocket and handed it to her. It held a slim knife. “Just in case,” he said. She clipped it to her waistband and covered it with her shirt.

  Footsteps began echoing up the stairwell. “I’m sorry ma’am, I have to confiscate that,” said Dan loudly, pointing at the camera, “you’ve been told repeatedly that this is a classified matter—”

  Sevita grinned but then became quickly serious, raising the camera and pointing it toward the large soldier. “You can’t take it!” she yelled, “The people of the City have a right to know what’s happening, to protect themselves.”

  The footsteps sped up a bit and multiplied as more workers entered the stairway and came to see what the commotion was. Dan made a slow grab for the camera. “You’ll only cause a panic,” he rumbled, “We don’t even know—”

  “Oh come on, soldier,” said Sevita, backing up out of his reach and toward the tunnel. “You think you have everyone fooled. But the workers here are going to get the power back on and I’m going to let the City know so that people can take precautions for their families.”

  “I can’t let you do that. You’ll only make it worse. People will want to leave and they’ll spread it farther to our families outside—” he leaped forward and batted the camera gently out of her hand. It landed on the floor and spun, its bright white light soaking over them as the workers piled into the room and watched.

  “You— You foo’. Thish iss a vio— violation of ‘ree ‘peesh!” Sevita shouted, struggling to sound drunk.

  “Now, now just calm down,” Dan said, taking a step toward her and raising his hands.

  “I won’t, I won’t calm dow’” she shrieked and took a few steps toward the tunnel, stumbling on the last one. Dan thought it was for effect, but Sevita wasn’t certain she’d done it on purpose. She could hear the workers beginning to murmur in the doorway, some of them pushing to get back out of the room.

  “Just relax, we’ll get you some help…”

  “I’m not sick! NOT SICK! NOOOTTT—” Sevita whirled around to face Dan and leaped at him. She wrapped her arms around his throat and pulled him into her chest. She tried for a roar, but it came out almost a terrified scream. This was going too far, tempting too much. She had to get them out of there before she turned for real. Dan struggled and twisted.

  “Don’t just stand there!” he shouted to his men, “Do something!”

  Sevita yanked him backward by the neck, opening her mouth wide as if to bite his throat. He stumbled the few steps left to the mouth of the tunnel with her. The soldiers looked hesitantly at each other.

  “Shoot her, put her down!” ordered Dan, pushing against her so that they flopped sideways onto the dirty floor and into the dark entrance. Sevita helped him by scrabbling back. They were almost out of the camera’s light now. Two of the soldiers pulled out their guns and tried to aim.

  “I can’t get a shot,” cried one of the men.

  “Break loose Sergeant,” called the other.

  “Don’t you think I would if I could?” shouted Dan.

  Sevita gave one more shriek, the loudest and longest she could and then one more mighty yank. She and Dan disappeared into the dark. They crept down the tunnel mostly by feel. Dan’s men looked at each other for a moment and then two of them chased after him with their guns still drawn. Sevita could hear the plant workers’ uproar behind her. The rest of Dan’s unit was ordering them out of the room and trying to restore order.

  Sevita and Dan stumbled around a curve and stopped to catch their breath. They could see the flashlights of the men following them bobbing along the wall.

  “Sorry,” Sevita gasped, “are you okay?”

  Dan laughed. “Remind me never to tick you off. You didn’t hurt me, but you sure scared the life out of me.”

  Sevita began laughing but abruptly burst into tears.

  “Are you hurt?” asked Dan, “I was trying to be gentle.”

  The two men reached them, breathing hard. They slumped down the other wall. “She okay, Boss?” asked one of em, still gripping his gun, “She isn’t really sick, is she?”

  “No,” said Dan.

  “Yes I am,” sobbed Sevita, “I’m going to be that in just a few days. I’m going to hurt people who don’t deserve it. I’m never going to see my wife, never going to meet my baby. It’s not pretend. It’s coming. It’s coming and there’s nothing I can do.”

  The soldier holstered his weapon. “I thought we were doing something,” he said.

  Dan nodded. “That’s the plan, Paul.”

  Paul cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, “guess we’re all sick then. Know I am, and I’ve seen Tom muff the obstacle course three times this morning.” He elbowed the other soldier, who blushed and grinned sheepishly. “Can’t do anything about it. So buck up, soldier,” he said sharply, tossing Sevita a spare flashlight. “You’ve been drafted. Dan’s got family at the Cured colony too. We aren’t fighting for us anymore, but you’re both lucky enough to have someone depending on you.”

  Dan nodded his approval.

  Sevita wiped her face with a dusty sleeve. She pushed herself back up the wall. “Let’s go then. We’ve got a lot to do and I don’t know how long we have to do it.”

  She strode further down the tunnel as the men picked themselves up and followed.

  “What’s the first target, Boss?” asked Tom from behind her.

  “We need to get to the Governor. We’ve got to convince him to hit the exits most people know about. There’s the harbor, the Barrier Gate, and I think the Smuggler’s Entrance is well known enough that it should probably be collapsed too. These tunnels and the water mains ought to be taken care of too, but I don’t know if we’ll have time. Sevita thinks we have a week before the general population starts to turn and notice that things aren’t right. The Governor will tell us what to do.”

  They walked in silence for several minutes, concentrating on navigating the dark tunnel. They reached a ladder and emerged in a small utility shed. Dan opened the door and peered out. The street was empty and the evening sun had softened the buildings to a lonely, worn gold. The City looked terribly empty. The small group piled out.

  Sevita looked around doubtfully. “You’re talking about covering a long distance quickly. We’re on foot and the other soldiers are going to recognize you. And what about the curfew? It looks like it’s already in effect. Even if we avoid being seen on the street, there’s no escaping it once we get to City Hall.”

  “We need biohazard suits,” said Paul.

  Dan checked his watch. “The Q-team took Glist to the hospital. The guards should be changing shifts there in the next hour. If we can get there first, we might be able to talk them out of extra suits. As long as they don’t recognize us.” He was quiet for a long moment, thinking. “It’ll give you a chance to check on your wife,” he said, turning to Sevita. Her heart banged wildly between sorrow and hope as she followed the soldiers down the empty road toward the hospital.

  Twelve

  They kept to the alleys and wove a path through some of the crumbling buildings of downtown rather than walking openly in the streets. But once t
hey got within a block of the hospital there was no avoiding contact with other residents. The approaching curfew just made the crowd of people trying to get to the Farm for groceries and to the market and docks larger and more impatient. Sevita watched them from the window of an abandoned real estate office, nervously picking at the placards. The expensive professional photos of the houses and apartments had faded into a blank white oblivion.

  “We’re going to be recognized,” she said.

  “Does anyone know you were in the electric plant?” asked Dan, unbuttoning his uniform shirt and untucking the t-shirt beneath in order to look more relaxed.

  Sevita shook her head. “Just Rick, he’s not out there.”

  “You’re going to go to the back door. Find a good time to get out into the street. Then you’re just going to walk straight into the hospital. If anyone stops you, you’re just there to visit your wife. We’re going to get in through the parking garage.”

  “You can’t get in without a passkey,” said Sevita.

  “That’s why you’re going to open the door from the inside. A favor for a favor. You get to see Christine while we get you a biohazard suit.”

  Sevita nodded. She picked her way through the moldering lobby furniture toward the back door. They didn’t have much time before sundown. Sevita crept out into the small side street and took a deep breath before walking casually onto the main drag. She was stopped almost immediately by an elderly woman with a large shopping basket.

  “Ms. Das,” she said, grabbing Sevita’s arm gently, “Do you know what’s going on? The governor wants us all to stay indoors tonight. And the electricity’s been out all day. What’s happening?”

  Someone nearby overheard and turned to face them. “Is it raiders?” the man asked loudly. Sevita smiled comfortably and shook her head, though inside she was cringing as a few more people turned around and came toward her.

  “I heard it was sabotage by those rebel Cured,” cried a woman. The faces around her started to become serious, to draw thin with anger. Sevita had to defuse it, or there’d be a riot.

  “It’s just a chemical spill,” she lied. “The electricity will be back on once the hazmat team cleans up the spill. The governor didn’t want it getting pumped into the water supply by mistake.”

  “Why the curfew?” someone asked.

  Sevita hesitated and tried not to panic. “It’s the equipment,” she said, scrambling for an excuse, “The cleaning equipment can cause harmful gasses to be released. Before, it wouldn’t have been a problem, but we don’t have the right technology to contain it anymore. So the governor decided it would be best to clean it at night, and make sure everyone is safe inside their houses when it happens.” She had no idea what the people would think when a quarantine team came around to interview them. One lie at a time, she told herself. There was only so much time that she could buy herself. She had one sickening moment of vertigo when she realized many of these people would turn without even knowing the Plague had returned. She hoped it would be all of them. Someone was asking her something. She tried to shake off her dread and focus.

  “Sorry, what was that?” she asked.

  “What chemical was it?” the man repeated. Sevita flashed him her most charming news anchor smile.

  “You’ll just have to watch and find out. I have to save something for the broadcast.” That got a few light laughs and the crowd began to disperse, relieved. Sevita walked the rest of the way to the hospital unmolested. She was surprised to see the hospital entrance unguarded. But of course, the governor must have wanted to avoid a panic as well.

  She opened the heavy front door and tried to slow her racing heart. She was just here to see her wife. She just had to avoid the wasp men who’d seen her at the power plant. They’re probably not even here anymore. Shift change, remember? She told herself. The hospital was in perfect order, the receptionist smiled at her as she passed the desk. The lights flickered a little, but that was the only sign that the old building was relying on generator power. Sevita wondered how much ethanol they had. It wouldn’t matter. She walked casually to the back stair. No one in plastic suits. They had to be on another floor. It made sense, keeping them out of the way of the other patients and visitors. Not that there were many. It was going to make Dan and his men more conspicuous when they wandered in.

  Sevita hurried down the back stairwell. She stopped at the next level, peering out the small square window into the dim parking garage. If they were there, Dan and his men were hiding well. She opened the door and whistled softly. There was no response. She looked longingly down the last flight of stairs. The lump in her throat almost choked her as she realized it might be the only chance she had to talk to Christine. She whistled again, impatiently. This time she heard the quick echo of running steps, and the three men emerged from the entry ramp.

  She waited until they caught their breath in the stairwell. “They aren’t on the lobby floor,” she said.

  Dan nodded. “Probably took the Infected to the top floor, so no one would drop by,” he said. He clapped her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll get the suits. Meet us back at this door in fifteen minutes.” He frowned. “I’m sorry, that’s all the time I can give you. If you aren’t here, we aren’t going to wait.”

  “I understand,” said Sevita. She turned and ran down the last flight of stairs as the soldiers trudged slowly in the opposite direction.

  The generator rumbled contentedly. The basement was very hot, but Sevita hardly noticed. She was staring at the thick, dull door of the bunker. She’d never seen it closed before. One of Christine’s duties had been monthly inventory and rotating supplies in the bunker, and Sevita had helped her many times. But the door had always hung open, like a loose tooth that she had expected would sooner disappear than close. Yet here they were, everything she held dear, every hope inside, while she stared at the blank denial of the door. She could feel the seconds bleeding away. She stepped up to the security camera’s dark lens and pressed the intercom button.

  Thirteen

  Christine jumped as the intercom beeped and then crackled as if it were clearing its throat.

  “Chris, are you there?” Sevita’s voice vibrated in the echoing bunker. Christine leapt for the intercom and Marnie put down the book she’d found and sat up.

  “I’m here, one second, I’ll let you in.” She started to punch in the passcode.

  “No!” cried Sevita. “No, you can’t let me in. You can’t let anyone in.”

  Christine pulled her hand back from the keypad as if it had burnt her finger. “What’s going on?”

  Marnie piped up behind her, “Ask her for how long. How long are we supposed to stay in here?”

  “Who is that? I told you not to bring anyone,” asked Sevita, an angry, frozen edge on the words. Christine turned the video feed on so she could see her wife. Sevita looked frightened, not angry. A chill pinched Christine’s skin.

  “It’s Marnie, the girl that came into the City this morning.” She dropped her voice, though she knew Marnie could probably still hear. “She’s got no one Sevita, I couldn’t just leave her.”

  She watched Sevita run a frustrated hand through her thick hair and ached to hug her. “She came in today? She’s had no contact with anyone here before this morning?”

  “She hasn’t even really had contact with anyone except me at all. I was at the gate when she came in to replace some first aid kits and I brought her to the hospital almost as soon as she got in.”

  The sigh that rolled in through the intercom was almost palpable. “Good,” said Sevita, “that’s good. She’s probably safe. But— but I don’t know if you are safe for her.” Sevita shook her head. “Guess it doesn’t matter, it’s no better out here.”

  “Vita, slow down. What are you talking about?” Christine was shocked when Sevita let out a low sob and covered her face with her hands.

  “Remember the goldsmith? The guy you and Frank talked to?”

  Christine smiled. “Sur
e, he made Nella’s ring.”

  “He lied, Christine. He lied about the pens. He had the vial the whole time.”

  “What do you mean, ‘he lied?’ It was obvious he didn’t know anything about the vials. He wasn’t exactly coy about the pens. He said it was the most expensive job he’d had since Before. He walked Frank through the whole thing— how he made them, how Dr. Pazzo contacted him. He even said he had to have special tubes blown by a glass blower he knew in order to hold the right ink. Had to mix it himself, he said. He showed those to Frank too.”

  “Then he was duped,” said Sevita. “Maybe Pazzo tricked him into reviving the frozen bacteria. He wouldn’t have even known what he was doing. It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done.”

  “What are you saying? Are you saying it’s come back?”

  Sevita looked up into the unblinking camera lens. Christine could see shining streaks of tears on her cheeks. “It’s come back, Chris, and it’s stronger than before. I’m not immune, the Cured aren’t necessarily immune, I don’t even know if you or the baby is immune. But I hope so.”

  “It’s okay,” cried Christine, “it’s okay, maybe you aren’t infected, come inside until it’s sorted out—”

  Sevita shook her head. “The reason I called to tell you to come here— the goldsmith turned this morning. He’s been infected for weeks. We’ve all been exposed for weeks.”

  Chris felt nauseous and leaned heavily into the wall. She was quiet for a moment.

  “Christine? Chris?”

  “I’m here. I’m coming out.”

  “No! You can’t!” cried Sevita.

  “Why not? If we’ve been exposed, what does it matter? I don’t want to turn in here by myself. Why are we separated?”