Paige ensured her father was gone the next day before I left for school. The day went on longer than I wanted, and I thought about last night. How did the moment go so sour? If Paige is mad at me, is there anything I can do to improve things?
I have my next meeting with Dr. Shepard after school. And I couldn't wait fast enough for it to come. When my teacher finally dismissed us from class, I trekked to his office as quickly as possible.
"Hello, Ethan," Dr. Shepard said as I entered his office. He's sitting at his desk, papers in hand. His eyes don't leave the mess across the floor. "I know you put these away earlier, but I think I discovered something." He says, rolling his chair to the pile of papers closest to him. "The data— it seems inclusive."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"You know how the radiation killed the Staphylococcus aureus?" He says, pushing his glasses up onto his nose.
"Yes," I say.
"Well," He starts. "It seems to kill other bacteria and turn it into another strain."
"What does that mean?"
"The strain could kill us all if this sample gets loose in the compound."
My gut jumps into my throat. "How?"
"We're not vaccinated or have the antibodies to kill off a mutated virus strain. If this gets out, it could start a pandemic."
"What do we do?" I ask, my palms sweaty with anxiousness.
"Get rid of the infected dirt and hope the radiation doesn't seep through our walls."
I spent the rest of my time with Dr. Shepard going through the scenarios of what could happen if the mutated strain got out. And they all ended in tragedy. I helped him get rid of the dirt sample, which made my anxiety subside for the time being. When it was time to leave, I was scared and exhausted. I had nothing good to tell Dally or Paige, and I felt like if the information got out, it would cause mass panic.
I exited the lab doors and walked toward that bathroom. I needed to piss and elevate all this tension in my body. I enter the men's restroom and walk up to a urinal. I unzip my pants and relieve myself.
My mind races. I can't choose whether to think about Paige and the awkward night we had together or the mutant virus that could cause the extinction of the entire human race. My brain hurts. I can't concentrate, and I find myself missing the urinal. "Fuck" I say out loud as I zip up my pants. I walk up to the sink to wash my hands, examining my reflection.
Wow, I look horrible.
My cheekbones are more prominent than ever. The contours of my face are sharp and harsh. I lift my arm and can see the sag of the skin where my muscles used to be. I can see my collarbones through my t-shirt. It makes me sick looking at my body. I lift my shirt. My ribs poke out, my skin clinging to them like they have the last bit of nutrients in my whole body. My stomach is thinner than my ribcage, and I bet my thighs are as slim as a child's. My brown and shaggy hair is thinning. My dark eyes have seemed to dull. Six years. Six years of not eating have turned my body to dust.
I pull my shirt down and cover my body shamefully. As I look up at the mirror, I notice something behind me on the floor. Its color is crimson, and it shines in harsh lighting. I turn around and see a trail leading to one of the stalls. I'm standing in it.
"What the—" I start to say, but my voice goes quiet when I realize it's blood.
I make my way through the sticky liquid and slowly open the stall door.
To my horror, a body lays hunched over the toilet.
The blood. It's everywhere. It's soaking my shoes. It covers the stall walls like red paint. I start to gag when I realize the bits and pieces that dot the fiberglass walls are brains. The man has a hole in the back of his head, and a waterfall of blood is pouring out and down his once-crisp lab coat. His brown hair is mangled, mixed with the red jelly starting to clot.
I don't want to see his face. It would haunt me forever.
I bite back a scream. I shove the stall door closed and back away. My breathing is too fast. I feel I might faint. I have no idea what to do. If I tell anyone, they'll think I did it. Oh God, I must leave. Now.
Trying to conceal my trembling, I leave the bathroom in a flash. I walk down the long corridor as fast as my legs can. I pass the main door to Air Purification. But, just as the door gets behind me, a shoosh fills the hallway. The door opened. I glance behind me and see a group of scientists standing with their clipboards in their arms and eyes wide.
Footprints. I left bloody footprints leading to the bathroom.
I run. My legs can't take me fast enough. I hear the scientists scream at me to halt, but I don't. I keep running, my malnourished muscles burning and begging me to stop.
I make it to the Hub, and I'm lost in a sea of people. My heart is pounding in my ears. My body is hot, and I can feel my temperature rising with every breath.
Dally. Where's Dally? Mechanical. I must get to Mechanical.
...
The heat slaps me in the face when I enter the Mechanical ward. Everywhere I look, I see furnaces, boilers, or engines. The workers are laboring diligently, focusing only on the tasks at hand. They're either running on treadmills to give the engine power, laying under thousand-pound mechanics with tools, or hovering over a worktable fixing small pieces of machinery. I trudge through the ample room, the ceilings seeming fifty feet high, and observe the crowd. I pass an older gentleman whose face has sizeable burns across his cheek. The scaring is a mix of scarlet and plum, and the skin around it is puffy like it had just been burned the day before.
I round an engine as big as a car and see a familiar blue baseball cap hunched over a small worktable. Dally's pants are covered in grease, and his white t-shirt is slicked to his back. I hobble over to him with shaky legs and wrap my arm around his neck, more to stabilize myself than get his attention. His head turns quickly, and his eyes blink at me.
"What are you doing here?" He asks, putting his blowtorch on the worktable. "Come to visit me?" His eyebrow raises.
"There's—there's" I can't get my words out. My fingers take Dally's shirt in them, and I use it to steady myself.
"Woah," Dally puts his hands on my shoulders. "What's wrong?"
"A body. Blood. Everywhere." I say, my voice unsteady.
"What?" Dally's face turns to shock. "A body? Where?"
"Bathroom."
Dally lowers his head and speaks in a whisper. "Did you do it?"
"No!" I yell, making the workers around us turn and stare. "I found it in the bathroom. I didn't do it. I found it." The image of the man's bloodied head flashes into my mind.
"Did you tell someone?" He asks, eyeing the others to try and motion that they need to mind their business.
"No. I just ran. People—they saw me with blood on my shoes."
"Okay, okay," Dally's hands wave in front of him. "We can fix this."
"I don't think so, Dally. I fucked up." I'm starting to hyperventilate now.
"Calm down," Dally pats my chest with an open hand. He smiles at the guy looking at us with a furrowed brow. "Man's just lost his virginity, and he's spooked a little." He says to him. The guy rolls his eyes and continues to work.
"I can't," I whisper, my breath almost making my voice nonexistent.
"You need to. People will see."
The room flashes red. The hazard lights on the walls start to blink. A roaring boom fills the air. It's the safety alarm. It means that there's something wrong.
They found the body.
...
When the alarm goes off, it is mandatory that everyone in the compound herds into the Hub. Dally and I make a point to follow the crowd without acting suspiciously. But I still couldn't stop my hands from trembling.
They saw me. They know who I am.
We mask ourselves in the enormous horde by standing against the wall near the tunnel's entrance. On the Hub's mezzanine level stands Mr. Smith. This time, he's wearing a maroon suit and a shiny black tie. It's a questionable fashion choice. He's got a clipboard in hand, and there's something else. The distance between us makes it hard to see. Guards stand in parade rest next to him, two on each side. I can see the top of Paige's head sticking out over the railing.
My eyes make their way to the staircases on the other side of the vast area. There's not enough space in the Hub for all the compound's residents to squeeze into, so they overflow onto the staircases. I see people covering them up the five flights. There are thousands of people in one place. It's scary. It reminds me that the horrendous person who murdered that poor scientist is in this room. I could be standing next to them. My eyes shift from face to face. I step closer to the wall I'm leaning on. I wish I could just blend into it.
As I scan the room, my eyes fixate on my mother, dressed in her grey chef's uniform. She stands with the rest of her unit right outside the Dining Hall. She doesn't see me. Her eyes are stuck on Mr. Smith, like everyone else.
The chatter that surrounds me is enough to make my ears hurt. Everyone's talking at once. I can hear the two teenagers next to me. "I wonder what happened." One says. The girl is probably a few years younger than me. The other shrugged her shoulders, looking at her friend worriedly. "I hope nothing serious."
Dally taps my arm. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine." I wish I could believe him.
Mr. Smith gets handed a microphone from General Fox. I've never noticed how shiny General Fox's bald head is until now. The forest green military suit he's wearing is adorned with colorful metals. His scowling face never changes, and I don't think I've ever seen that man smile. He rarely talks at an average voice level. He's either screaming at the guards or speaking with a growl so deep that it makes a shiver go down my spine.
Mr. Smith taps on the microphone, a popping sound filling the air. "I've gathered us here to share some newfound information," He starts. His voice is solid and brassy; you can tell he has a knack for public speaking. "There's been an incident."
Whispers erupt from the crowd.
"I'm sorry to inform you that there has been," He pauses, "a homicide."
The teenagers next to me gasp.
"Sadly, John Chapman was found deceased in the Air Purification bathrooms." Mr. Smith's voice is stone cold.
People begin to shout. They yell over each other. I hear "There's a murderer among us!" from the corridor's north side. To my right, I hear, "It has to be one of those Grubs!"
People are already pointing fingers.
"Murder is the work of the Richlings." I hear another say to my left.
"Eat the Rich!" A group of Grubs in front of me shout.
Mr. Smith holds his arm out, holding something black in his hands. Then, I hear a click as an overhead screen comes out of the ceiling above the compound seal. The screen rolls out alarmingly slowly, and the Hub's chatter dies when the bottom hits the floor. The screen flashes to life, the picture of the Lab's hallway covering the screen.
Shit. The cameras.
"We have footage of the suspect leaving the crime scene at approximately 1700 hours."
The video fast-forwards. Then, it plays.
For a few seconds, I see nothing. But then the doors to the bathroom open, and I see myself stumbling out. Dark red footprints trail behind me as I move closer to the camera. I look back, the Lab doors opening. The scientists see me, and I run. Then the screen pauses.
It's me. Plain as day. The footage is clear and crisp, and there's no way someone would mistake another for this crime. Every person in this compound who knows me can see that it is Ethan Cooper.
I put on my jacket's hood.
Mr. Smith speaks into the microphone. "The suspect's name is Ethan Benjamin Cooper; he's eighteen years of age, has brown hair and eyes, and is roughly six feet tall. If you see him, please, tell someone immediately."
My ears ring. I hold onto Dally's arm to stop myself from falling over. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. The air feels like it's suffocating me. Noticing my gasps for air, Dally pats me on the stomach, causing a gulp of oxygen to enter my lungs. "Calm down." He hushes me. I guess my choking was apparent.
My eyes stare blankly at Mr. Smith. I see Paige talking to him. She looks like she's— arguing with him. Her hands grab her father's arms, and she shakes him. Mr. Smith throws her off. One of the guards contains her, pulling her out of sight. All of this is done in silence. Everyone's watching, judging—even my mother. I glance at her. Her hands are covering her face, and she's bent down. A coworker consoles her with a hug and soft touches on the arm.
My mother. She can't believe I did this. She knows I could never do something like this. Right? Should I be second-guessing my own family?
"I offer my condolences to the Chapman family." Mr. Smith says his voice is sullen.
I notice that the girl standing next to me is watching me. Her face moves so she can see around my jacket's hood. Her eyes grow wide. "He's here!" She screams.
Dally pulls on my arm. "We need to leave now."
We quickly slip through the broken chain link fence into the darkened tunnels.
...
We run as fast as our legs let us. The overhead lights flash over me as I go through a part of the tunnels I've never been down before. I trail behind Dally, whose panting just as hard as I am. It feels like I've been running forever. We must be a mile into the tunnels by now. The offshoot entrances to other tunnels pass me. None of this looks familiar. There are bottles of liquor perched on top of rocks; withered paper collects in clumps on the ground—caves after caves. There are so many of them. Some are just tiny holes in the wall, others thirty feet tall and bottomless. We're lost.
My legs ache, and I start to slow down. "Dally," I say, a puff of air coming out of my nose. I motion for him to stop. "I can't run anymore. My legs will fall off."
I hear the echo of Dally's shoes on the tunnel floor as he walks up to me. The look on his face is one I've never seen before. Pity. I can hear the breath hitch in his throat as he nears me. "That was pretty damn convincing."
"No shit." Panic rises in my chest.
"I'm sorry." Dally says, "It's only a matter of time until they find you."
My hands turn into fists. "I know."
"What will you do?" He asks, his arm falling to his side.
"I don't know."
Perhaps I could take refuge in the tunnels. If I propel down one of the caves, I could hide until Paige figures out what's happening with the knock. Maybe Dally could get word to her and tell her where I'll be hiding. But how will I eat? I can't depend on Dally or Paige to bring me food daily. Paige could afford it since she has unlimited food ration credits, but Dally, on the other hand, I cannot take that away from him. He'll starve. Just like me, if I don't figure something out.
The tunnels are dead quiet—the only sounds coming from the dripping water from the small cave to my left. I notice something further down the tunnel. It's a door.
"What's that?" I ask, my hands sweating. We make our way to the door, and what's printed on the front makes my stomach flip.
32