When the sun sets, oranges and pinks stretch across the sky like lazy cats, thin lines of clouds blending in, the alarm sounds for shift change. It's a hum from this distance, but the sound still sends chills up my spine. Isaac looks up from his sketchbook at the sound, shivering in the cold.
"Let's go," I whisper, standing up. Stephen tosses me a gun, and I strap it on. Who knows if we need it, but the thought seems to always comfort me. At least now, I know I'm capable of using it.
The walk up the hill takes longer than it should because we are stalling for time. It has to be completely dark before we can sneak up on Howard. Plus, we came up to south side, and we need to enter at the North gate where Howard is. So, we walk around the bottom of the hill and up, keeping hidden by running from tree to tree to find cover.
Eventually, the thick darkness falls, dimly lit by the lights on the top of the wall. The North gate is ahead of us, shut tight for the night.
"How exactly do you plan on getting his attention?" Stephen asks as we huddle together, watching the pacing body of Howard overhead. They must've really knuckled down, because he would never get up and pace before. He looks alone, and that surprises me. Night guards aren't allowed to patrol alone.
"I have no idea. If he's really alone, I can just yell at him," I say, moving around on my feet. "But surely he's not alone."
Isaac shakes his head, ripping a piece of paper out of his sketch pad.
"You can't just yell at him," he says, "He would start firing."
Isaac wads the piece of paper up into a ball, squinting up at Howard.
"Surely, you're not going to throw-"
Before I even finish my question, Isaac has reared back his hand, throwing the paper wad up towards the wall. I'm shocked when it nails Howard in the back, bouncing off and falling to the ground. Howard looks around in shock and horror, running to the wall to dangle over.
I wave from the shadows, pointing to the window about halfway down. Moving my hands like I'm climbing a ladder, I grin at him. Howard's face never stops looking shocked. His eyes resemble the moon; his forehead wrinkles up. Finally, he puts one finger up, disappearing from the side of the wall.
"Captain, I'm going to go check the window," I hear him say, and the sound of the latch opening fills the air.
Isaac smiles at me, giving me a thumbs up as we creep out of the shadows towards the wall. A minute later, the window slides open, and a ladder drops out.
"Good job, kid," Stephen says, clapping my back. The impact sends me stumbling forward, and I grab the ladder to catch myself. I climb up first, squeezing into the window.
"Jaelyn, what are you doing here?" Howard hisses, dragging me the rest of the way in. "Hartley said you were dead. Announced it this morning. You and him both." Howard points at Isaac who is pulling himself weakly through the window. I give him a hand, holding a finger up to tell him to be quiet.
"Look, it's a lot to explain, Howard, but thank you for not shooting me."
Howard watches Clare come in next, his face shocked at her appearance. The scar on her face is normal to me, now, but it looks gruesome to Howard.
"Who are they?" Howard finally asks, still whispering. Clare and Stephen both shimmy through the opening. Stephen struggles, coming out red faced and beading sweat.
"It doesn't matter who they are," I whisper quickly, ushering them on, "We just need to go."
"Wait, no, Jay. You can't go out there."
The tone in his voice tells me how serious he is.
"Why not?"
Stephen is poised by the door leading outside, his hand on the handle. Clare has her gun in her hands, eyes awake and ready.
"I'm not supposed to let people in the wall."
"We are already past that point, Howard. We are in."
"I know, but if they find out it was me that let you in."
"You think I would rat you out? After you let me in?"
Howard is quiet, watching me move towards the door. He shakes his head.
"Okay," I continue, "So, please let me go. It's urgent."
"Fine," he says, shaking his head, "But put your hood up and don't flash those guns around. You're not wearing compound uniforms. You stick out like sore thumbs."
We do as he says, pulling them as far over our faces as we can.
"Thank you, Howard. I owe you one," I whisper, motioning for Stephen to open the door. Little does he know, though, Hartley should already know we are here. If he's listening, he figured it out the moment we came through the window. Guilt fills my head, because I won't be able to protect Howard from Hartley when the time comes. All I can do is hope Howard understands.
"Where to now?" Stephen asks, ushering Clare in front of him.
"My house. My dad has a key to the RF. That's where they'll be keeping the virus," I reply. I push around Clare, taking up the front.
Right then, a gunshot sounds, splitting the air around us in two. Clare screams, hitting the ground clutching her calf. I look behind me, seeing Farrah on the wall, gun in his hand. His mouth is twisted into a smile. His swollen face is a ghastly sight.
Isaac's hands shake as he grabs my arms, pulling me away. He's saying something to me, but I can only hear the ringing in my ears. Clare is still crying, now quiet, dull sobs.
"Run," I stutter, taking off at a sprint. I hear Isaac behind me, his boots grinding against the gravel. Stephen is carrying a sobbing Clare. Behind us, Farrah is yelling at Howard, telling him to go after us, but Howard's yelling unintelligibly back. I follow the sidewalk, straight to to the yellow bar that signals I'm almost home.
Skidding to a stop, I walk up the stairs of my dark house, pulling open the door. Stephen hurries Clare in, sitting her down on the couch. Her hand covers her mouth, but I hear her breathing around it. Tears streak her face as she dangles the bleeding leg over the couch.
"I'll guard the door," Stephen barks, shoving past me, "Take care of her."
I jog to the kitchen, dragging out Dad's first aid kit. Isaac has Clare laid back on the couch, a pillow clutched to her chest. The blood pouring out of her calf pools up in the floor.
"Hold her down," I tell Isaac, kneeling in the blood to look at her leg. There's an entry point, but after some inspection, I don't see an exit. If there's a bullet in her leg, I'm definitely not qualified to get it out.
"It's still in there," Isaac says for me, trying to hold down a very squirmy Clare. She's quiet now, but her face is bleached whiter than a sheet.
"Yeah, I'll just have to make a tourniquet and get her some help. I can't remove a bullet." I pull a piece of rubber out of the box, stretching it out to full length. Tying it around her leg, I dig through for some pain reliever or something to help her.
"What are you doing?"
Isaac jumps, falling off the edge of the couch. We both swing around to see my father holding the bannister, wearing nothing but pajama pants.
Nothing surprises Jacob Price. My father doesn't know how to be shocked, but he does know how to scowl at me when I do something unexpected.
His entire face turns down, eyebrows meeting in the middle. I freeze, bottle of painkillers dropping out of my hand. His eyes go from me to Isaac, then back to me, until he sees Clare on the couch.
In two steps, he's down in the living room, kneeling beside me.
"What were you thinking, Jaelyn?" he hisses, inspecting her leg. The bleeding has slowed, but the skin burns red still.
"I- I don't-"
"You weren't thinking! That's the root of all your problems."
I stand up, scowling at him. Everything I've learned about him comes rushing back to me, and I forget to be scared of him.
"Were you thinking when you invented a virus to wipe out the human race? Because that seems pretty stupid."
"Don't talk about things you don't understand," he replies, unphased.
"Things I don't understand? Dad, I've lived this virus! I watched it take Mom over until she barely knew herself. I've seen the infected up close, and I've had to force myself to forget that they're human beings. What you did was take away their humanity, Dad, and I understand that," I say, pleading almost.
"I did what I had to do."
I glare at him, feeling the fire in my face. Isaac is watching him, still trying to hold Clare as Dad gives her a shot.
"What does that even mean?" I ask, voice rising.
"I can't explain that to you right now," he says, pulling out a pair of scissor-looking things. "There are things you don't know, things two files cannot hold." He looks up at me then, shaking his head. "Don't let your mother feed you half-truths."
"Don't bring Mandy into this," I snap, pointing a finger at him.
We stare at each other, the room quiet as Clare falls to sleep. Isaac stands up finally, holding a hand out as a mediator.
"Jaelyn, think before you act," Dad says, joining us in standing. "Make sure you have every side of the story. Weigh it from every point of view."
I twist the gun around, pointing it towards him. He looks a little surprised for the first time, holding his hands out in front of him.
"I am thinking," I growl, taking a step towards him, "I'm thinking about the people who have to live with the consequences of your decisions. The fathers, mothers, daughters, and sons who have to live another day missing someone they care about because you decided it was right to take those people away. I'm thinking about all the people that will die of hunger and dehydration because you decided it was a good idea to make a second strand."
Dad takes a step away from me, shaking his head.
"What do you want from me?" he asks, voice cracking.
"I want your badge. We need to get into the Research Facility," I say, voice still low. I can feel the rage in my fingertips, the weight of the gun heavy in my hands.
He digs into his pajama pocket, pulling out his plastic badge. Tossing it on the ground, he kicks the badge to Isaac, who snaps it up.
"You can have it. Anything else?"
"Yeah. I want you to take care of Clare. You haven't met Stephen, but he's guarding the door. Isaac and I are going to go to the RF; Stephen is going to stay here and make sure you fix her leg."
Dad nods.
"I wouldn't leave her with a bullet in her leg, Jaelyn."
"When I come back, you're leaving with us," I say, walking towards the door.
Isaac follows close behind. Stephen is already heading back to the living room, giving me an understanding nod.
"Don't let him leave this room," I tell Stephen, opening the front door.
"Wouldn't dream of it, kid."
As I step out on the porch, I hear Dad call after me.
"Be safe," he says, kneeling back down, "Think before you act, Jay."
I slam the door in his face, leaning against it trying to catch my breath.