I try not to make my shoes echo throughout the tunnels as we slowly return to the Hub. Paige and I are walking side by side, but the King family watches us with every step. I can feel their probing eyes observing our backs, the hair on the rear of my neck is standing up, and my body is aware of every movement I make. It's annoying, really. We're allowed to go outside now, and they're still fixated on the unfair social system in the compound. Can't we just all view each other as the same? I mean, I should take my advice, but still. Jamie's comments hurt me, and I'm tired of feeling inferior. So, I will continue to watch them closely. Paige is right. I'll stop with the Richling remarks.
My eyes reach the front of the group, where Jacobs leads everyone through the tunnels. He's gripping his firearm with white knuckles, and his head is rocking side by side, scanning for anything dangerous. I don't know how I feel about Jacobs. His father is a drunk and a Grub. I need to stop thinking like that. He has character—an "I'm always pessimistic but also assertive at the same time." He gives off a dark vibe, like he's seen some shit. The dark circles under his eyes make him look like the toll of being a guard has caught up with him. How did he get good enough grades to be a guard in the first place? Grubs barely make it into Cultivation, let alone becoming part of Mr. Smith's military. Ethan, stop thinking about him like that.
On the other hand, Wellings gives me a softer vibe. His southern accent certainly helps the "I'm easy to talk to" part of him. He was the first one I talked to when I woke up, and he indeed made me feel like I wasn't an outcast, like all the other guards have made me think. He's at the back of the group, shuffling Red along as nicely as possible. Red's stumbling annoys me. His footsteps echo through the tunnels like explosions. Speaking of Red, how the hell was he allowed down in the compound in the first place? I know he's Jacobs' father, but he doesn't give off the assertive parent type to have a guard as a son. How did they afford this place? Or did Mr. Smith also do charity work for others and give them tickets? It's a miracle that Red didn't get eaten while helping everyone block the gate.
Seeing that Jacobs is walking far enough in front of Paige and me, I nudge her with my elbow. "You know what happened, right?" My whisper tickles my throat.
She pulls her head close, my breath hitching in my throat. "Yeah, you got shot. I freaked the fuck out and almost tore off Jacobs' arm. How are you alive?"
"That wasn't the first time I was shot," I say.
Paige hits me with her arm. "You got shot? When?"
"When Dally and I were getting into the Control Room. Beasley shot me."
"How did you survive two gunshot wounds?" She whispers.
"I guess I healed faster than I could bleed out."
"Are you like—not able to die?" Paige asks.
"I have no clue." I shrug my shoulders. "But I can tell that the bite wound on my leg is already healed. My chest hurts a tad still, but it's just sore. Nothing like the pain I had when I was shot."
"But you passed out. Did you pass out last time?"
"No. I don't know what was different. I was shot in the chest last time too."
"Maybe it's because you were just shot not too long ago. Maybe passing out was your body's reaction to healing you faster. Maybe it's like a windup toy, and your string was still pulled out." She sounds more fascinated than anything, and I can't help but cringe. This isn't a miracle or a gift. It's a fucking curse. I'm a time bomb, waiting for someone to take me away and hide me forever.
"Could be," I say. "So I'm guessing everyone knows I can heal myself?"
Paige's eyes look down to her feet. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I couldn't hide that you didn't die after being shot. I had to explain everything to everyone."
A breath comes out of my mouth. "I understand," I say, ending the conversation.
The pit in my stomach makes me feel nauseous. Since everyone knows I'm different, does that mean I'll be treated differently? I turn my head to look at Jaime and Kevin to see if they're still eyeing my every move. And Jaime is. Her eyes look me up and down with a face full of distaste. She brings Liam closer by grabbing his hand and pulling him near her hips. Kevin's too busy watching Red bumbling behind him to notice his wife's actions.
Why do I feel so out of place when the social stigma's gone? Being a Grub had its downs, but this feels different. I am different. Different than every single person here. I feel like there's now a target on my back. You've saved the human race, Ethan. Mr. Smith's previous words don't make me proud of myself. They make me fearful. If more people find out about me, I'll be put in a place where I won't be able to escape.
The tunnels are too quiet. I haven't heard a single voice, let alone a cricket chirp. We approach Gate 4, and we carefully tiptoe to its entrance. Jacobs is the first one to peek his head out and look outside. Then swiftly, he crosses a few feet to the other wall. His hand waves at us to come across, and we do. One by one. When it is my turn to cross, I look outside the gate. It's a graveyard. Dead bodies litter the ground. Pools of blood decorate the sandy landscape like jewels. I spot a few crickets still eating, and I push away the thought of it as I make it to the other side.
It wasn't just our gate that got attacked by the crickets. How many are out there? And why are they so huge?
We keep walking as quietly as we can through the tunnels. My nerves ease when we finally reach the tunnel entrance without seeing a cricket.
"We'll raid the Dining Hall," Jacobs points to me, Paige, Red, and Wellings. "while you go to your residence." Jacobs looks to Jamie. "Remember, no more than a minute or so inside."
"Got it," Jamie responds, pulling Liam toward the Hub.
We step over the fallen chainlink fence and look into the Hub for the first time since the riot. The slight makes me want to hurl. Just like outside, the Hub is a graveyard. Bodies lay scattered around the vast area, pools of blood collecting under some of them. With amble feet, I step around a body while holding my breath. I try telling myself that they're sleeping so I don't have to face the fact that the people I used to see daily are dead. I step over another one, but before I can put my foot on the floor, I see a familiar baseball cap next to the body's head. "Dally!" I kneel, placing my hand on top of Dally's back. Paige is next to me in seconds, and her ear goes down to his chest. "I can hear him breathing!" She says, her eyes locking with mine.
My hands grip Dally's t-shirt, and I start to shake him. "Dally! Wake up, please. I need you to wake up." I didn't notice I was crying until a tear fell onto his arm. Dally's clammy skin is pale. It was pale before, but I can tell he's white as a ghost now. His dark hair lays in knots on his face, which is pressed against the hard ground. I tug at his arm and roll him over. He's out cold. I start to shake him again. "Please," I whisper. "I can't make it without you."
Dally can't die. He just can't. He's the only one I've been able to talk to openly about anything. Anything. I need him with me when we leave the compound. I just do. He's like a brother to me. No, he is my brother. He's helped me so much these past six years, and I can't imagine losing him before he finally gets to see the outside and eats that damned steak he's been talking about for years.
Dally gasps, taking in a gulp of air as his eyes stutter open. He looks around the room, eyes squinting from the fluorescent lights, and grumbles a throaty moan. A hand reaches up to his head, and that's when I see the gash that goes from his hairline to his eyebrow. It's still bruised. I can see the skin turning a dark plum. Crusty blood coats his face and neck, and I try to wipe it off with the arm of my jacket, but Dally sucks in a hiss. "Ow," His voice almost cracks. "Please don't fucking do that."
I laugh, tears falling down my cheeks. "I thought I lost you."
"Paybacks a bitch." Dally gives a slight smirk, but it quickly fades as he tries to move his body for the first time.
Paige giggles, her hand going to mine for comfort. I squeeze it, then pull away to look Dally over. I lift his shirt and see the splotches of dark skin scattering his chest, the most prominent bruise under his rib. I touch it, and Dally flinches. "Fuck," He rasps.
"I think his rib is broken." Paige puts her hand on Dally's forehead. "He's burning up too."
I grab Dally's arm and pull him up into a sitting position. He slumps like he's still trying to keep himself out of unconsciousness. "How do you feel?"
Dally's arm cradles his chest. "Like shit."
"Can you stand?" Paige asks, holding his hand and bracing herself to help him up.
"I can try." He grits his teeth as we help him to his feet. He looks around the Hub, focusing on the closest body to us. "What happened? Is the air outside toxic?"
A forced breath comes out of my mouth. "No, just killer crickets."
Dally chuckles, wiping some of the sweat accumulating on his neck. "What?"
Paige puts a hand on my shoulder. "Explain everything to him while I join Jacobs and Wellings in the Dining Hall." And with a small smile, she turns and disappears around the Dining Hall's archway.
I fill Dally in on what happened while waiting for everyone to return. It was hard to explain it to him since he didn't believe me. But showing him the healed scar on my calf ultimately pushed him to accept it. At first, he thought the crickets were cool, but his smile faded when I explained the swarm and how many there were. I told him how I survived, how Jacobs shot me, and how everyone knew I could heal myself. Dally hesitates to group up with a bunch of Richlings and guards, but after some persuasion, he finally agrees as long as he gets to shoot a gun. I might have promised him that Wellings was nice enough to let him, but that's an argument for another day. Right now, our focus must be getting out of here and outside.
When the others return with bags of food, we all have to wait for the King family to return before heading out. This is weird since they told us they would only be a few minutes. Maybe they suffocated in their residence. Part of me wouldn't mind since Jamie was such a bitch to me back in the tunnels, but my heart aches for Liam. He has to be around five or six years old. Suffocating to death would be so scary for him. He wouldn't even know how to save himself. But I scoff when they make their way down the stairs dressed in posh clothing. Clean t-shirts. Non-ripped jeans. Jewelry. Like, come on. We're about to walk through a desert, and you decided to wear pearls?
Paige showed Dally and me the stash they collected from the Dining Hall. It's primarily freshly grown food since what we eat comes from Cultivation. Perishable. Even if we ration it, it won't last all nine of us but a few days. Jacobs and Wellings considered going to the arsenal to grab more guns, but it was behind many doors and in a room with no oxygen. So they decided to scrap the idea and grab some kitchen knives instead. I was able to fit a butcher knife into my pocket.
"Are we all set?" Jacobs asks everyone as the King family steps off the staircase and onto the ground level of the Hub.
I nod, grab a bag full of vegetables, and hoist it over my shoulder. "Seems like it."
"Everything went to plan?" Wellings asks Kevin as he joins the group.
"Yeah, we were able to make a few runs in and out of our residence before we got too winded. We brought some extra clothes if anyone needs any." He says and eyes Wellings' and Jacobs' camouflage uniforms.
"I'm fine wearing this," Wellings says, patting Kevin on the shoulder.
Paige clears her throat. "I'd like another shirt to wear." Her eyes fall to her chest. Her tank top is still coated in her father's blood. I've seen her peel the fabric off her stomach several times now. It must be starting to cling to her.
"Sure thing." Kevin turns to Jamie. "Honey, give her that extra shirt you packed."
Jamie looks at Paige, her eyes full of apprehension. After consideration, she takes the backpack off her back and unzips it, throwing a black v-neck shirt at her.
"I'll just go around the corner and change," Paige says. She turns on her heel and walks into the Dining Hall where no one can see her.
Just then, something catches my attention. I look up to the mezzanine level of the Hub, right outside the door of the Control Room. My chest tightens when I see Mr. Smith stumbling to the railing, his hand pressing a blood-soaked rag to his other wrist, where his other hand should be. He looks gaunt, and I can tell he's lost much blood. His suit is covered in it.
"Mind if I join you?" He huffs, almost unable to talk. He puts his stomach on the railing and bends down, looking at us from above. It's like he had no idea who was down here because a look of rage flashes across his face when he sees me.
Before I could shake myself out of shock, I see Paige walking out from the Dining Hall, dressed in the new shirt. "Ready to go." When she realizes no one is looking at her, her eyes go to where Mr. Smith stands. I see the blood drain from her body at the sight of her father.
"Paige." Mr. Smith whines. He takes a couple of steps toward the staircase that leads to the ground level. "Why are you back? Aren't you pleased that you're finally able to go outside?" I can hear the sarcasm in his voice.
"You knew, didn't you?" Paige barks, her face turning a bright shade of red. "You knew about what's out there and told no one."
Mr. Smith throws his head back. "What was I supposed to do? Tell everyone about the mutated animals outside? Give no one hope? Why would I do that when we could all live here peacefully?"
"It's not just the crickets?" Jamie gasps. I can see her hands shaking from where I'm standing.
"I have no idea what's out there. I just know that when we sent a squad unit outside when the air wasn't toxic anymore, they never returned. I assumed it was the air quality, but I knew it was something else when we sensed movement outside the compound."
I swallow the nails in my throat. Is there any chance my father could be out there? It's now hitting me that no one was waiting for us outside the compound. No one. What knocked on the door? There's no way it was those crickets.
"There's always a possibility that they decided not to return," Kevin clears his throat. "The crickets could just be an anomaly caused by the radiation."
Mr. Smith staggers forward, leaning his top half over the railing. "I wasn't going to take the chance. My job was to protect my people from Patorum. I felt I was doing a good job until you got in the middle of things." Mr. Smiths eyes me.
"Tell me." I huff, and my legs feel like jelly as anger builds up. "Did you frame me for Dr. Chapman's murder?"
"No," Mr. Smith's frustration is written on his face. "Not at first. It was just convenient. You happened to be at the right place at the wrong time, and it was the perfect way to get you to stop snooping around. I had no intention to kill you. Dr. Shepard came to me with the news of the mutated bacteria and you were sick. It was just precautionary. I didn't want a pandemic to start. I was playing it safe. But then you lived. And—oh God, I was so happy. You're the cure for any disease. Death. Do you know that we can use your DNA to heal people? Help repopulate the Earth?"
"I didn't ask to be that person." I spit.
"I know, Ethan, and I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry that you have to endure that. I let you and your mother into this compound to save you. I never meant for you to be killed or become what you have. I wanted to make your mother happy. Sadly, we must deal with what we've been dealt with and look at the facts. You're the answer to everything. We need to—"
"We?"
Mr. Smith blinks like my interruption reset his brain. "We must get you somewhere safe and continue the tests."
"There's no we," Paige speaks up. "You're not coming with us."
Mr. Smith frowns. "Why not? I'm your father, and you can't just leave me behind."
"You're dying," Jacobs states. He grips his gun in his hands. "You'll just slow us down."
"I'm perfectly fine!" Mr. Smith steps forward, but his leg gives out, and he tumbles to the floor. The rag slops to the ground, exposing the bone inside his wrist. Blood seeps out, dripping down his forearm and soaking into the arm of his suit jacket. He hurries toward the rag, lifting the entire thing and putting it back against his wound.
"We're leaving," Paige starts to walk to the tunnel's entrance, and when she notices no one is following her, she spins back around. "We're leaving!"
"Paige," I walk up and put my hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure? He's your father."
"He's already dead to me." She rips away from my touch and continues down the tunnels. Jacobs jogs behind her.
"You can't just leave me here to die!" Mr. Smith yells. I give him a last look before I turn, grab ahold of Dally, and put his arm on my shoulder to help him walk.
Paige's refusal to let her father come with us shocks me. I can't help but feel like there's something she's not telling me. Her anger can't be from him trying to kill me alone. If it took me putting Mr. Smith's and my differences aside to make Paige happy, I would have done it in a heartbeat. He was doing what he thought was right, and in the end, he protected us. He wasn't telling us the whole truth. Can I fault him for that?