"I am aboard a nuclear-armed submarine, and if I don't get the Edda soon, I am going to launch a warhead and destroy the entire archipelago. You have been warned."
As soon as those words leave Amelia's mouth, the temperature seems to drop by at least ten degrees. I look at everyone around me, all wide-eyed and shell-shocked.
"Amelia," My words come out slowly, my tone shaking in horror, "what the hell have you done?"
"What I had to," She replies, voice holding no remorse. I'm assuming she switched back to just our private coms. "I will do whatever is necessary to protect the mainland, and I'm tired of waiting on you lot to pull yourselves together and actually do what needs to be done."
"And you think threatening to blow us up will do that?" I shriek.
"My patience has worn thin, Runner Five."
I clench my fists. "We've been here for five and a half weeks! I know it probably feels like it's been, I don't know, ten months or something, but this has literally been the fastest and shortest 'long-term' mission we've ever had! Not to mention you'd destroyed any trust anyone here might have had in you!"
She scoffs. "Please. They never trusted me to begin with."
"That doesn't mean you can just threaten to kill us all!"
"I can, I have, and I will if I don't get that Edda soon."
I open my mouth to reply, something horribly nasty threatening to leave my mouth before I hear what I think is a little click. An offended choking noise rips itself from my throat.
"Did she just freaking hang up on me?"
"Yeah." Sam sounds exhausted. "She did."
"That bitch! I swear when I get my hands on her-"
"Let's just focus on getting out of this hut for now," Jody says, looking around at everything that's been destroyed in the skincoats' search for the fake Edda. The blonde still has it in her hands, despite it having no value to us.
I let out a breath, my anger dissipating for the moment. "Yeah, yeah, you're right. Sorry."
"It's okay," She says, and behind her green eyes I can see a fury simmering. I guess she's just better at keeping it in check than I am, although I remember how much Amelia riles her up. She's probably thought of a million ways to kill her in the past thirty seconds.
Jody turns to Rory, who has gone pale. He's biting the inside of his cheek, eyes flooded with guilt and barely held back tears as he blames himself for this. It was an honest mistake. He would know enough about the Edda to recognize key elements because of his grandfather, but seeing his face, it's obvious he had no clue a fake one had been created.
"Rory, you'll be staying with us at the med bay from now on. I doubt there's enough room for us at the Webster's, so it's easier if you just come here. That we way can protect you."
He nods frantically. "That's completely fine. Th-thank you."
She smiles sympathetically. "We need to get back to town. We need to be on the watch for any skincoats. Nicole, if you see someone who even looks like they might be wearing gray-"
Nicole pulls out her pistol with lighting speed. "Don't worry. I won't hesitate to take them out."
"I know you won't."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Sam asks as we leave the hut and start heading back towards town. "I mean, if you do end up killing someone after Amelia's message-"
"They've already shot at us, Sam," Nicole interrupts. "If we manage to kill one, then that's one we don't have to worry about. Obviously, they don't have the Edda, but we're now racing against them and now against time to get it so we can stop the red fungus. And I can't shoot time. If I see a skincoat, I will not hesitate to put a bullet into their head. And I don't think Singer will either."
I don't say anything, but Nicole is right. Sam knows that too. They want to kill us, and if they're as cruel in these stories everyone keeps mentioning, then we need to take them out if given a chance.
Although it's getting harder to see the darker it gets. The sun's practically gone now, so we're quick in our journey back to town, back to the population. Our sights and minds are on the med bay that gives us some peace of mind, some illusion of protection. Anyone, even those nurses and doctors who work there, could be the very skincoat that tried to kill us tonight.
I don't want to think about that.
We don't see any skincoats on the way back. Sam watches through cameras, which, as he's said before, don't work as well at night. But I think he watches extra carefully this time, and Nicole keeps her pistol in her good hand the entire way home. Her finger rests not on the trigger— obviously, because it's basic gun safety to not have your finger on the trigger unless you plan to pull it in that very moment—but the half-second it would take for her to pull the trigger wouldn't save a skincoat had they still been lurking about.
But whoever they are, they're gone, having retreated now that they know we don't have the Edda.
When we get back to town, I'm shocked by the shining light of open doors and flashlights as people stand out in the streets. Murmurs of panicked voices filled my ears. None of the words are discernable, all of them jumbled together into a sense of nothingness, but the topics of conversation are all the same.
I can tell by the way they look when they see us coming that it's about Amelia's warning. The fear, the confusion, the slight anger in some as they want someone to cast the blame on that isn't themselves.
Not that this is their fault either, unless they are the skincoats or the ones that have the Edda. I doubt that's the case for Pastor Balderston, who's eighty-three and someone I've seen pray himself to tears during the first service we came here and had to tell the island about Jones coming and what he's done on the mainland. Or Abigale and Hailee Chisholm, twins who are barely fourteen and can sing with such talent that they are probably the ones who deserve the names Singer and Songbird over Nicole and me.
No, these people aren't skincoats. They're just scared, and with fear often comes anger. And now they're pointing that anger at us because that's all they know to do right now.
Sam sighs through my headset. "Guys, try to get back to the med bay as quickly as possible. I don't–I know people are scared, but Janine is already meeting up with the laird, and he-"
He stops at the sound of a voice carrying over the crowd.
"Everyone, town hall meeting immediately!" Shona shouts over the crowd. "My Da and Colonel De Luca want to talk to everyone about the Prime Minister's recent message."
"Yeah, that."
"Do we need to go?" Rory asks timidly.
"No. Janine said we shouldn't. She-" He stops, irritation slowly seeping into his words, "she's really not well enough to go herself, but she's refusing to just stay put, as usual. She doesn't look or sound great, but she wants to be the one that talks with the laird. And she thinks that if we're there too, people might start asking us questions that-"
"That we don't have answers for," Jody finishes.
"Yeah."
She nods. "Let's get there quickly then. I'm sure if we stay out here much longer, then people will want to talk to us before-"
"Runner Five!" Shona calls out, and Jody barely holds back a groan as she rubs her temples.
I see the brunette heading towards me, along with the pairs of eyes that follow her. But only eyes follow, not feet. Most people listen to her instructions and set off to the town hall. There are a select few, I notice, who don't. They instead retreat back to their houses, some looking close to tears and deciding to have their own personal breakdown before heading to get assurances they know they won't believe.
I turn to the others. "You guys go. I'll see what she wants."
Nicole doesn't like that suggestion at all, given the scowl that takes over her face. "But-"
"Callista!" Shona calls again.
"She's only calling for me, for some reason. I'll catch up. Sam, I know you're in your little office at the police station on coms. Get out. Get to the med bay."
"But what if-"
"I'm sure it won't take long. And I'm stronger than her, so I'll be fine, I think. I doubt she's a skincoat anyway."
The skincoats seem to want to keep us from getting that Edda at all costs. Shona has helped us countless times in trying to get the Edda and save Janine. If she is a skincoat, she's an awful one.
No, she's just someone who wants my attention. Someone who thinks too highly of me and seems to teeter between admiring me and being annoyed by me. That last part is a common occurrence with anyone who knows me, and I can't blame them for it. I'm not exactly the most likable person even at the best of times.
Shona calls my name again, and I send a glare at the others who are just standing there.
"Go."
Sam groans in defeat. "Fine, but if I don't see you in like thirty minutes-"
"I know. I know."
"Be careful, sweetheart."
"I will."
He logs off after that, and the others start heading towards the med bay, all of them looking back at me over their shoulders as if they think I'll vanish if they take their eyes off me for too long.
My expression turns slightly sour as I look back at the woman approaching me. I don't want to deal with her questions, and seeing how she's been the one delivering the town hall message, she should already know I won't be there at the meeting. So, what could she possibly want from me?
"Callista," She says when she finally reaches me, and I blink.
"What do you need?" I ask plainly.
"What happened to make the Prime Minister do this? It's only been two days!" She asks, chocolate eyes wide with confusion.
"Ah," I say. Now it makes sense why she would want to talk to us. "Well, as she said, her patience-"
"No, something happened. I know it did," She presses, and I breathe a sigh through my nose. "Callista, please-"
I hold up one hand to stop her, the other rubbing my face. "It was a mishap. Someone thought he had the Edda; he didn't. Amelia overhead and got pissed. Now she's decided that if she can't bribe you into giving it to her, she can threaten you."
The explanation, understandably, doesn't do much to quell her worry. "Well, what are you going to do about it?"
I stare at her. "Me?"
"You're the hero, right? I-I mean, in every story we've heard about the mainland, you were the one constant. And I've seen you here on Mor and on Dearg. You-"
"Please don't start this again," I interrupt, making the older woman frown. "I'm a runner. That's it. We're going to try to talk to Amelia. See if we can find a way to maybe change her mind." I hold my tongue when the thought of she probably won't springs to the front of my mind. "But I can't exactly stop her. She's Prime Minister, so she can command the Undaunted to do this, and they will."
"But you—there's got to be something you can do," She pleads. "And you can't just be a runner. I mean, we know you aren't. You're connected to Dearg! You were..." She trails off when she notices the few people who still haven't headed to the town hall, who have either run into their homes or simply slowed their journey. She shifts uncomfortably under their watchful gaze.
I look at her, silently begging for her not to say what I am. Everyone here already knows about my short-lived immortality. I don't want everyone on the island learning about me being a clone too.
Thankfully Shona understands, unlike the last time she blurted out something that got me in trouble.
She reaches down and grabs my hand. "Come with me. Best we find somewhere to talk alone."
•
She takes me to the laird's manor. Her manor too, I suppose, seeing that she still lives here. Or I think she does, anyway. She does have the key to the door, and she gets me inside, just into the foyer. I'm okay with that. I don't want to go any further. I don't want to be here at all, not when our conversation will be nothing but frivolous words, wasted breath that will do nothing to change what is happening.
I have no power when it comes to Amelia. I have no sway. Whatever hero Shona thinks I am, that means nothing to Amelia.
"Can't you try?" She asks me when I tell her, and I bite back the sneer that fights to take over my features.
"What do you think was the first thing I did after she made the announcement?" I ask. "I told her immediately that her doing this was stupid. You have to know I don't want this either, particularly because I, and many people I care about, are on this archipelago that she's threatening to blow up."
"But it's more than that, isn't it?" She asks, and I'm a bit stunned by the odd question.
"Well, I don't want the people on the island to die if that's what you mean."
"No, I just mean...you're a part of here, in a way. I know you were 'born' in America, but after Dearg-"
I cut her off almost immediately. "Please don't try to tell me this place is my home."
If I'm candid, I wouldn't mind seeing Amelia destroy Dearg and that Van Ark's lab. After we get the information we need, cure the scientists, and get them out, of course. I hate the place, but the graduate assistants living there don't deserve to die for that. We've already done enough harm by unintentionally getting Jasper killed.
"But it is."
She doesn't realize how much she hurts me by saying that. I'm already tethered to that place, to Cassandra Feive, to Van Ark. I'm linked to them in a way that I'll never be rid of. I don't want to be reminded of it, and I don't want someone who doesn't understand this pain to try to add some sentimental value to it.
"It's not. I'm not a part of here. It's just where I-where Project Feive was created. My home was Arkansas, and now it's Abel." I feel guilty at the dark expression that passes over her face, so I continue. "And I don't think you would want me to act as if this place is my home anyway, not when I didn't grow up here. But discussing my heritage isn't why you brought me here, so I won't waste your time arguing about it."
She still looks unhappy, and I wish I had just ignored her when she was calling for me.
"We won't let anything happen to the island." I hope I sound consoling enough, but it's doubtful when her brows furrow.
"Do you think she won't go through with it?"
That question makes me noticeably wince. "No, no, she will if we keep coming up empty-handed, but I think she'll delay it while she can. If she destroys the archipelago, she destroys the Edda. The fungus may have originated here, but it's already infecting the mainland. Amelia just wants to stop more from coming over. But since it's already there, we need the Edda to figure out how to stop the V-Types."
Acid and napalm may destroy the fungus, but neither are long-term solutions given the damage they cause. And burn cubes are out of the picture, too. I doubt those would be of much use anyway, seeing how V-Types used that against us before we left the mainland. The more there are, the cleverer they become.
"But if it doesn't turn up eventually..."
My face is sad at her unspoken question. "She will launch the warhead, yes."
"And you can't stop her?"
"I could try to get onto the Undaunted, but I doubt that would go well, seeing how many guards she has. I'd probably be caught, and Amelia would throw me in a jail cell for a few days so she could taunt me, or maybe worse. She's never been very nice. There's not really much I can do except find the Edda. Again, she's the Prime Minister."
"But you're the Hero of Abel, or so you've been called."
I shrug. "That title doesn't hold any political power, and my Head of Runners title gives me power only when it comes to running stuff in Abel Township."
"If you can, can someone else convince her not to? Tom? Janine?"
I don't tell her that I'm almost certain if Janine asked her not to, Amelia would do it just because Amelia would like to piss Janine off.
"Jody... might be able to get her to hold off for a longer period, but I don't know. Tom and Janine- they're the ones that would be our best bet at finding the Edda, not talking Amelia down," I confess before a wave of nausea hits me, my throat burning with tears as I think about the two. "And both of them are..."
"Getting sicker," She finishes. I nod. "You care about them."
"You already know this."
My bluntness doesn't faze her. "I knew you were worried about Janine before. You seem even more troubled now, though, with Tom."
"He's a close friend. One of my best friends. And he's one of the best guys out in the field for a mission. I don't-I don't like seeing him like this—ill. I don't... I can't lose another friend." I shake my head, hating the little slip of emotion that taints my voice and stains the air like red wine to a white dress.
This isn't why Shona wanted to talk to me, and I tell her so. I want nothing more than for than conversation to be over. I know that's going to be hard since Shona believes, for some strange reason, that I might be able to change Amelia's mind. It will probably be a good few minutes of back and forth arguing until I can convince her otherwise. Going off-topic even by a fraction will only make me stay here longer, which isn't what I want.
"Is there anything I can do?" She asks, which takes me by surprise.
"You?" I ask, and she nods. "Well, do you have the Edda? Do you know where it might be?"
"You know I don't," She replies exasperatedly.
"Then I wouldn't think so. But..." I bite the inside of my cheek. "What do you know about the skincoats?"
Her brown eyes go wide. "What do they have to do with this?"
"There was one chasing us when me and our... friend tried to show us what he thought was the Edda. They seem to want it just as bad as Amelia does. We can't turn our focus away from finding the Edda to try to stop them, but knowing what we're up against might be a good way to help us find it before they do."
I'm taking a risk by asking her this, especially when we already have Rory to tell us the stories of the skincoats. He may be doing it right now for all I know. But Shona knows so much about this island. She recognized the drawings of the seed pods when we were on the glacier. However, none of us, not even her, realized they were seed pods and assumed they were odd pomegranate-looking things.
And with her dad's side of the family having been over this island for so long, she must know something that can be helpful.
Shona bites her lip. "Well..."
"I'm asking because I know there's talk about the old ways again, and I know that if people are dressing up as skincoats, they're doing it for a reason. And now it's putting us all in danger. Because Amelia will eventually destroy this place if she doesn't get that Edda."
She sighs. "I mean, you already know they were sort of the island's protectors. They brought justice and were basically the ones put out punishments for those who broke our laws."
I nod. "So, they were the police, but also the judge, jury, and executioner all in one?"
"That's one way to put it. They were incredibly skilled... and cruel. There were only nine of them, but the stories said they knew when another one needed aid. They were everywhere, it seemed. One didn't need any device to call for assistance from the others. The others just knew, and they were fast. Faster than what most people thought was possible, and strong."
"How did they know the others needed assistance if they didn't communicate?"
She rubs her arm. "The stories said they knew what the others were thinking and feeling, that they would know when one of their own was in trouble."
I go eerily still. "Like a hive-mind."
The words come out just barely above a whisper, but Shona nods. "Yes, like a..." She pauses and frowns. "Why do you have that funny look on your face?"
"Were they..." I shake my head. "No, they couldn't have been."
"Couldn't have been what?"
I nibble on my bottom lip, debating whether I should keep going. "Were they... V-Types?"
"Are you asking if they were zombies?" Her laugh is one of slight shock, but it's mostly one of mockery. My cheeks burn, and I instantly regret my words. She laughs again when I don't say anything, and I look anywhere but her face.
Cassandra Feive based Project Feive on the red fungus and a tale from these islands. If the skincoats were passed down through families, then they weren't genetically made to have a hive mind like I was. But they also couldn't have been V-Types because while V-Types have more sentience than regular zoms, their primary desire is to infect and spread. That isn't the case with skincoats.
I'm missing something here, but I don't know what. But what I'm almost certain of is that the story that Pro. Feive said helped inspire her in creating Project Feive must have been the legend of the skincoats. Hopefully, Rory can give us more information on them to confirm that and help us find a way to stop them.
I realize I still haven't answered Shona's question, and her deriding laughter has faded as she looks at me. Curiosity in her eyes, her lips still hold a smile that hints at ridicule, as if she's daring me to say something stupid again.
I force a polite smile and laugh lightly. "No, sorry. That was silly of me. I don't know what I was thinking. Hopefully, those legends aren't the case here. That would make things even more difficult."
"Don't want that," She says. It sounds like more of an automatic response, especially considering her bemused expression at my sudden change of tone.
"No, we don't. But if you remember anything else, let me know? You said you wanted to help, right? This is probably the most helpful way to assure we can get the Edda before them and keep Amelia from, well..." I don't finish. We both already know. "I think I should get going, though. And you should get to the town hall meeting."
To my relief, she doesn't argue. I'm awkwardly leaving a minute later, feeling dissatisfied with the whole thing. I practically sprint to the med bay, too afraid to stay out here alone at night, even with the light from house windows and street lamps illuminating the path. As Sam said, anyone we know could be a skincoat, and I don't want to be caught out with one.
I'm sure Shona will have more stories to tell me about the skincoats tomorrow. She is smart. But then again, maybe not. She didn't seem to notice that her father's manor had a secret tunnel full of red fungus in his garden, and she'd grown up in that house. She still lived in that house!
So maybe she won't know because her father deemed it too scary to tell her or something. He's highly protective of her, like she's a little girl even though she's in her thirties.
If she doesn't know, it could be because the laird is trying to hide something. Like Sam said, there are reasons not to trust him, even if Shona is sure he's innocent. But if she can't tell me more, Rory certainly can.
I look down at my hands, a frown on my face. Paula's already taken blood samples from me to study whatever is in my blood that is similar to the red fungus. Still, I think I might let her take another sample tonight.
It won't give me answers about myself or explain the idea of a possible hive mind amongst the skin coats, but it would, at the very least, give me some peace of mind.
A/N: Here you go, guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Do you think the laird knows more than he's letting on? Do you think he's lying to Shona, or do you think her belief in his innocence is because he really is so? Let me know in the comments and don't forget to vote. Thank you and have a blessed day!