Moonlit Retribution

Chapter Fifteen

Waking with a start, the first thing that registers in my head is how many times I’ve passed out within the past 48 hours. It’s irritating and disorienting as seven consecutive tilt-a-whirl rides. I blink confusedly as I realize that the reason my head is throbbing is because I’m leaning over the edge of the mattress, my lanky strands of hair dusting the grimy floor.

“Euck…” I groan unintelligibly, rising to my knees on creaking limbs. Dizzying bursts of blackness envelope me at the abrupt movement. All the blood is now shooting from my head to other numb areas of my body, and I have to fight the urge to drop back to my previous position and pass out once more.

Shaking my head slightly, popping my aching neck and spine back into place, I survey my surroundings and sigh tiredly when I see Ríjez has left the room. Some shadow of disappointment chills me for a moment until I come to my senses. At least his absence saves us the awkward morning greetings. Would have been nice to have discussed his predicament, though.

And just like that, the situation hits me, waking me more effectively than a dousing of cold water. With quaking limbs, I stumble out of bed and head to the bathroom to try to fix myself into a more presentable fashion. Not that it really matters, but I hope that Mella will at least appreciate my effort, futile as it is.

The bite on my neck doesn’t look as bad as it feels (due to Mella's miracle serum, I'm guessing), though it’s definitely unsightly. The outer edges are already yellowing, and the center is a deep blackish purple. The dark red of broken blood vessels laces the teeth marks that are already scabbing over. I don’t know what to do to cover this up, so I resign myself to hunching my neck to at least keep it out of view.

Feeling at least half-way human after combing through my hair and tying it up (after much deliberation, I assure you), I trundle my way to Mella’s lab/bedroom with no one intercepting me. This is new. I’m usually one of the last ones up and moving.

I gently rap on Mella’s door with the knowledge that it must be super early and she's probably dead asleep, but she answers anyway, looking no worse for wear than last night.  I wonder if this chick ever sleeps.

“So eager for today’s testing that you couldn’t sleep?” she drawls tiredly. Okay, so maybe she does feel exhaustion to some degree. My brow knits against my conscious effort to keep my face blank of emotions.

“Not quite. What time is it?”

She cocks her brow inquisitively. “About two, I believe.”

Biting my cheek, I nod, scrubbing my hand over my eyes. “Look, can I come in?” I ask blandly. “I need to talk to you.”

“Really now. And here I thought you were at my door to converse with the walls.”

I glare at her, but she ignores the gesture and steps aside to allow me to enter. Shutting the door, she moves past me and folds herself onto the bare mattress with her back against the wall, crossing her legs at the ankle and folding her arms. Not slowing a beat, she cocks her brow and waves at me impatiently. “Well? Talk, girl. And stop trying to hide your neck. I’ve already seen it.”

I hastily clap my hand over the torn flesh of my neck, wincing at the pain. It doesn’t hurt as much as last night, but the slight pressure makes its healing state plainly obvious. Mella snickers at my effort. “I presume dear Antonio is the cause of this,” she says with a lecherous gleam in her gray eyes. “I never pegged him for dominative relations, but I suppose one can never assume these things.”

Clenching my teeth, I shake my head exasperatedly and take a seat in a rickety wooden chair. Mimicking her position, I slouch backwards and cross my arms, but it’s hard to pull off her easy arrogance. “And I suppose I can’t assume that you have more important things to focus on that my relations.”

She purses her lips in distaste, then waves me on. “As it happens, I do. So if you could please make this snappy,” she says breezily, flicking her wrist impatiently.

I run my tongue over my teeth and bite it to help focus my thoughts. Self-inflicted pain has always assisted me like that, helped me keep my mind on track. But my old methods aren’t enough to solidify how I want to begin our little chat. I know I don’t want to tell her about Ríjez--God only knows how that would end--but I need to at least explain the theory that’s been tugging at my mind since I woke from that dream.

Huffing impatiently, Mella flexes her fingers, studies her nails. “By all means, take your time, dear. It’s not like I want to sleep or anything.”

Alright, so no beating around the bush. “I have reason to believe that extraterrestrials sent those meteorites carrying the virus.” I wince at how ridiculous this sounds, even to me. Mella just blinks slowly. I can’t tell what’s flickering behind those canny eyes of hers, but I know it’s nothing good. I press on before she can interrupt my thought process.

“What…” I lick my lips, swallow. “What if we can’t find the meteorites because they just aren’t there anymore?” 

Mella gives me an odd look, her brow crooked skeptically. “Alright, then. Tell me why they aren’t there anymore.” 

I cross my arms defensively. I don’t dare try to tell her that what I’m about to say is all based off of a dream I had, but I feel that it at least needs to be said. “What if the extraterrestrials made the rocks disposable? Like, they carried the virus and when it was released into an area populated with host organisms, the meteorite just dissolved away. But what if they only release the virus if the area is populated?” 

Again, that half incredulous, half condescending look. She doesn’t say anything, just nods once, letting me know that she’s still listening. I suppose that’s the most I can ask of her. Sighing, I continue, “Look, you’ve been after one of these things, right? To find the cure? Well, what if these meteorites were spread all over the world, not just in heavily populated areas? These things may be scattered in barren parts of the world that no one has ever inhabited, or at least didn’t when this all started. Theoretically, if there’s no one around to infect, the virus won’t be released. If the virus isn’t released, the meteorite stays there. And the virus is still locked inside, waiting to be released. Or extracted.” I look at her pointedly. “The cure for an illness is often derived from the actual ailment, right?”

Nodding once more, she says exhaustedly, “Yes, of course. Why do you think I’ve been searching for these things?” She shakes her head, rubbing the back of her neck. “You have no proof of this, Vessa. Of any of it. Listen to yourself; claiming that aliens have unleashed a plague on us. These things just happen naturally, not because some malicious entity has--for whatever reason--condemned us. As much as I’d like to pursue the idea, there’s just no evidence to go on, and I can’t be wasting precious time and resources searching for these things when we wouldn’t even know where to begin looking.”

My eyes narrow as I lean across the table. “We’re wasting precious time here when we could be doing something useful, anyway. What’s the difference if we’re sitting here waiting to be overtaken or if we’re out there searching?”

Mella scrubs a hand down her face, rubbing her eyes, and doesn’t offer a reply.

“And I have plenty of evidence.”

This catches her attention. She cocks a brow and leans back on the wall, folding her arms imperiously. “Is that so?” she drawls sardonically.

For once I feel absolutely confident in her imposing presence. I smirk, straightening my posture. “Yep."

So...before y'all start throwing things at me for a ridiculously long wait for such a short chapter, I must say something.  First, I regret to say that updates will be few and far between once school starts back up in the fall.  I've got this pretty much planned out, but there's bound to be kinks along the way.  I'll try to post as much as possible before then, but I can't guarantee anything.  Second, I want to thank everyone who's taken the time to read this. Seriously.   You guys have NO idea how much it means to me that you're taking time out of your day to read something like this. 

NOW you may begin throwing things.