Through the Zombie Glass - Showalter Gena - Страница 54
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Not a bad haul.
Mr. Holland cleared his throat, alerting me to his presence. “The shooter Cole brought in escaped his cage in this facility—the dungeon—and we have no idea how. He was weakened from blood loss. We don’t think he could have survived for long out on his own without medical attention, but to our knowledge no dead bodies have been found. He could still be out there.”
What Mr. Holland was trying to say without panicking me: the guy could still be after me. Just then, in the safety of the room, I didn’t care.
“Now I’m going to check your eyes,” Mr. Ankh said.
Footsteps. He gently wiped my eyes with a tissue, then flashed a muted light in front of my face. “I don’t understand—ah, there we go. You’re finally responding.” As he continued to shine that light, the darkness began to thin at last.
“It’s getting better already,” I said.
“Good. We ran some more tests and found your antizombie toxin is significantly lower.”
“The new antidote helped, then.”
“New?”
“There are vials of it in my pack.”
“I’ll take one and see if I can replicate it. I’ll send the others home with you.”
“Thank you.”
He stepped back, and Cole stepped forward. Our eyes locked, violet against blue. Need against... I wasn’t sure what I was projecting at him. We—
—were standing in my bedroom. His expression was tortured, even sad, as he aimed a crossbow at my chest.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Cole—”
—We were back inside Mr. Ankh’s basement dungeon.
I blinked in surprise. Nothing had distracted us or gotten in our way, the usual reasons for a vision to end. This one had stopped all on its own.
Because he’d shot me and I’d died? Whatever. At least we’d had one. That meant a part of me was back to normal. I was better.
How long would it last, though?
Apparently I was going to do something so terrible Cole would feel his only recourse was to kill me. I couldn’t even process that.
“I have no plans to aim my crossbow at you,” he said tightly. “I won’t. Ever.”
I nodded. Really, what could I say?
That wasn’t good enough for him. “You had to be right before. The visions have to mean something else.”
I really, really hoped so.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Trust me. Please.”
The very words I’d once—four times?—given him. “Okay,” I said, and he exhaled with relief. I just didn’t have room for another worry.
“Cole, call Justin and tell him to come by,” Mr. Holland said. “I need to tell him about his sister.”
I looked and found him standing beside the curtain separating my “room” from the others.
“I’ll tell him.” My pronouncement was quickly met with inquiring glances. “I know what it’s like to lose your family. And I know you guys do, too,” I added in a rush. They’d all lost someone in the war. “But with me, the loss is fresh. Jaclyn was his twin, and he loved her more than he loved himself. I felt the same way about Emma.”
Mr. Ankh sighed. “Very well.”
Cole made the call.
It wasn’t long before Mr. Holland was escorting Justin to my bedside. He sat down opposite Cole, his expression closed off. He had no idea why he was here. My chin trembled as I said, “Justin, I met with a man named Dr. Bendari.”
He nodded. “You’ve mentioned him before.”
“Yes. He was...he was killed in front of me.” Tears streamed down my cheeks, burning, leaving track marks, I was sure.
Justin softened. “I’m sorry.”
“Before he died, he told me that your sister—”
With a pained groan, he jumped up, the chair skidding behind him. “I know. Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it.”
“You know?” Cole asked.
Justin closed his eyes, drew in a shaky breath. But that was it, his only reaction. And yet my heart broke for him. I knew what he was doing, because I’d done the same thing. I’d boxed up my grief and shoved it deep, deep inside.
He would feel better for a little while. Then, one day, someone would come along and say something, or he would see something, and the box would begin to open. All of those negative emotions would come pouring out, and he’d be helpless to stop them. He would break down.
“The leader, Mr. K, showed me pictures.”
“Mr. K?” Mr. Holland said. “What does the K stand for?”
“I don’t know. It’s all anyone ever calls him.” He lifted his chin. “Mr. K told me you were responsible, and it was my job to exact revenge. But I couldn’t kill you, he said. Just had to spy on you.” He offered us a cold smile. “He didn’t realize I knew you better than that and knew you’d never hurt my sister—that he was responsible. So I’ve given him information, but nothing damaging. Just enough to make him think I’m playing his game.”
“So you’re the spy,” Cole gritted out. “And you dared to send me on a wild chase? Why? To distract me?”
“Spy?” Mr. Ankh and Mr. Holland said in unison.
“No.” Justin shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’ve got a traitor in your midst. I never lied about that, I just don’t know who it is. Every bit of information I gave you is true. I want Anima taken down, and I want to help you do it.”
The fierceness of his expression...the chilling determination in his voice...the hatred oozing off him all combined to scream I’m telling the truth.
“Spy,” Mr. Holland repeated.
“I’ll talk to you about it later.” Cole nodded stiffly to Justin, a silent command to continue.
“My parents think Jace ran away. They worry about her, my mom even cries, but I can’t bring myself to tell them that she’s...that she’s... Because I can’t prove it, and I can’t answer their questions. And now you know everything I know. So we’re done here.” Justin turned and stalked from the room.
Cole stepped forward, intending to chase, but I grabbed his arm. “Let him go. He needs to be alone right now.”
Mr. Ankh and Mr. Holland watched as Cole settled back in his seat.
“Some privacy,” Cole said, waving them away.
Mr. Holland rolled his eyes and left. Mr. Ankh opened his mouth, closed it. Then he, too, took off.
“I know you probably have more questions, but I want to talk to you about Veronica first. About what happened with her after our breakup.”
“No,” I said, anger suddenly rising.
He continued anyway. “I told you she went down on me, and I wasn’t lying, but I didn’t tell you that I stopped her before...just before. And I don’t think you have any idea how difficult that was. With something like that, it doesn’t always matter if a guy likes the girl or wants someone else.”
“Should I give you a medal?” I snapped. I still hated the image of what they’d done.
“Yes. No.” He banged his head against the side of my bed. “I’m screwing this up. Again.”
“There’s no reason to hash this out—”
He looked up, his gaze beseeching me. “There is. When you called me, I was with her.” He latched onto my hand, holding tight enough to ensure I couldn’t break free. “Nothing was going on, I promise you. I was telling her I wasn’t over you, I wouldn’t be getting over you and that I would be with no one but you.”
My heart dropped into my feet.
I wanted to give in—so bad. Can’t give in.
I’d warned him.
Take your refusal one step at a time. Otherwise I’d crumble like a cookie.
First step. “Cole,” I said, plucking at the sheet covering me. “No. We’re not going there. You’re a relationship runner, not a sticker, and I can’t go through another breakup.”
He held me tighter. “Correction. I was a runner. I’m now a sticker. I get it now. I was letting fear make my decisions for me. I was so afraid of losing someone else, I was always looking for the expiration date. Not just with you, but with all my girlfriends.”
Could a girl dance for joy and sob with despair at the same time?
Second step. “I’m glad you realize that, and that you’re determined to move forward, but what happens if you also realize you never got over some of those other girls?”
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