Duality (The Hitchhiker Strain) (12 page)

"What's going on?" Liam asks. "These people need to go but they refuse to stop fighting. Usually I'd say that's a pretty kick-ass trait, but they're going to get thems
elves killed."

"It was a brief lapse in sanity," I assure him. "They're going now. Or at least that'
s the new official plan. We have to get them moving."

"Easier said than done,”
Liam huffs, swiftly kicking the toe of his boot into the skull of the Z at our feet. It goes deadly still, falling face-first into the mud.

"No kidding. We should keep everyone out here who is willing to fight while we empty the houses and get the slower people moving. Kids and whoever else wasn't able to fight." From the looks of
it, anyone who could hold a weapon has decided to help defend their settlement, but there must be others who are trying to stay out of harm’s way.

As quickly as we can, Liam and I patch together a plan
—one that I think depends way too heavily on everyone else following our instructions, but it’s the best we have.

Chapter 17 – Chelsea

After the beast slips away once and for all, my transformation comes quickly. I can feel the changes in my mind as they happen, and the ex
perience threatens to overwhelm me. I can't keep track of all of the alterations my mind and body have gone through—who I was, what I was, who I am now, that I’m alone in my own mind again… It’s all disorienting until, suddenly, I'm completely oriented. Completely Chelsea.

If it weren
’t for everything I’ve been through to get to this point, I’d say it was all too easy.

There's no point in attempting my nap again. I'm too shaken to close my eyes for more than half a second at a time. I'm also too paralyzed b
y all of the what-ifs to move for the first ten minutes after I feel the change, maybe more.

I can't put it off forever though. I have to test the waters.

I turn my back to the camera and try to remember how to alter my voice so it will come out in a whisper. If this works, the last thing I want is to be bombarded by eager scientists again. Part of me already knows this is going to work, but I want it to be
my
moment. I've earned it.

"Pizza." I don't know what made me choose that word, but the clarity of th
e sound coming from my lips is startling. It still doesn't sound exactly right, probably due to lack of practice and muscle use, but all of the right sounds came in all of the right places. It's a good start.

"Cat. Ball. Alfredo sauce." Words come spewing
from my mouth at random as easily as if I've been doing this all my life. Which I have been…until recently.

Alfredo sauce. Pizza.
My mouth starts to water. Before, I had trouble remembering anything other than the taste of flesh, but now I can practically smell all of my favorite foods from before, almost taste them.

There's so much from my life before that I forgot and now it's all here, pushing at the surface of my mind. I try and keep it back for at least a while longer. One step at a time.

Controlled motor functions always came more easily to me than anything requiring mental strain, but I wiggle all my fingers and toes anyway, just to see what will happen. Everything goes perfectly. I'm also suddenly
very
aware of what I smell like, and it's really not good. Hopefully I can deal with that soon. Still, the smell of several months of grime and sweat can’t dampen my spirits. No question about it, this is a miracle!

"Ready for dinner?" Zack
’s voice penetrates my happy bubble of concentration. I was so preoccupied by all my new skill sets that I didn’t hear him enter the cell block. I turn back to face the door to my cell and the camera that watches me right as he reaches his usual spot.

"Hey," I say, unable to keep the smirk off my face. Zack's face falls sl
ack. I feel like I should have a mic to drop onto the floor dramatically. "What's up?"

My dinner tray clatters to the ground. “
I knew it.” Zack takes a second to recover from the shock, and I can see the excitement building behind his expression. I know exactly how he feels.
 

This time, they send two people in to run the gauntlet of tests they have prepared for me, plus a guard who remains outside my cell. And it helps. I don’t consider attacking or lashing out, but the idea of hiding in the corner still tempts me.

Zack stays close by this time as well. He
’s out of the way but always within my line of sight. I don’t know whose idea it was to keep him nearby, but it’s appreciated. I’m not sure why knowing he’s there helps, but it does. Maybe because he’s the only one who might stop and say, “This is a
person
we’re dealing with. Let’s not poke her with sharp things to see if we can get a reaction.” Or maybe that’s wishful thinking.

For almost an hour, I say, “
Ahh,” when I’m told, have lights shined in my eyes, and speak on command. It’s all very clinical. I’m practically on autopilot, which leaves me alone in my own head. As the minutes pass and the adrenaline fades from my system, I slowly slip away from the high of my success, crashing toward the emotional aftermath.

Disbelief. Gratitude. Fear. Shock. Joy. Sadness. Grief. It
’s all there, all at once. I was worse than dead and these people brought me back to life. It’s seems so surreal.

My lip quivers slightly until I clamp my mouth shut, hoping no one has not
iced. Besides Zack, everyone is more or less looking through me anyway, assessing and analyzing but not seeing. My eyes dart to Zack’s and he smiles encouragingly. I try to smile back, but I can feel tears building in my eyes, so I look away and will them not to fall.

Am I getting splotchy? I used to always get splotchy when I was trying not to cry.

That sets me off all over again. It’s been so long since I’ve
cried
. It’s something I’ve always hated doing, and now it feels like a gift. How messed up is that? Still, it’s not a gift I want to share with the two men who are now having me recite the alphabet for them for the second time. Once I finish that, I concentrate on slowly inhaling through my nose and exhaling through my mouth.

I will not cry. I will not
cry. I will not cry!
I’ll have to wait until I get a little time by myself to break down completely.

“
She’s tall,” one of the men mutters, taking out a measuring tape.

“
How old are you?” the other asks.

“
Sixteen,” I answer automatically. Turning sixteen was the best day of my life—and then it got even better. My driver’s license. A later curfew. My job at SportWorld. I loved being sixteen.

“
Date of birth?”

“
January eleventh, ninety-six.”

A smile breaks onto the taller man
’s face. “Actually then, you’re seventeen now.” He turns away from me to look at his companion. “Selmack’s hypothesis about the perceived passage of time was likely right. Fascinating.”

While they
’re reveling in their good news, I feel like the rug has been pulled out from under me. I guess I should have known. I went all the way through winter after being infected, but I never noticed my own birthday—or even my birth month. I can never get sixteen back again.

“
What’s today’s date?” I ask, trying to hide the shakiness of my voice.

“
May eighteenth,” the other answers, looking visibly uncomfortable at my impending display of emotion.

Okay, now I
’m really going to start crying.

Right as the first tear spills out onto my cheek, Zack comes to my rescue. “
Are we almost done?” I look back over to Zack as he glances up from a small cell phone-like device. “There’s a bit of a waiting list for people who want to meet her.”

My shoulders sag. So much for my chance to be alone and cry it out.

The two men in front of me exchange a look before the taller of the two shrugs. “The rest of this can wait.”

And like that, they pack up and leave. Maybe I should have tried crying sooner in order to get them to back off.

As soon as they’re gone, it’s easier to force the tears to a halt. They still want out, but the small break in the building pressure was enough to hold them off a little while longer. I watch Zack and wait for him to explain whatever will be expected of me next.

“
What’s your name?” Zack asks, still keeping his distance.

My name? I didn
’t notice that the other two hadn’t bothered to ask. Someone wants to know
my name
. “Chelsea.”

“
Chelsea.” He repeats it slowly and then smiles like he approves. “Your official title around here has been Subject-4487b, but the rest of us were calling you Stacy. No idea where that came from though. Inside joke, I guess.” And he’s not on the inside?

“
Where do we have to go next? There’s no way it can be as fun as that last round of tests, but I’m game.”

“
Sarcasm already? Color me impressed. Actually, we’ve got a little time. I was thinking I could sneak you into the showers.” Shock must show on my face because he backtracks immediately. “Not like that! Just… I figured you’d want to get cleaned up. It’ll probably go a long way toward making you feel like yourself again.”

Of course he didn
’t mean it like that. There’s no mirror here, but the smell alone is enough to tell me what I must look like. And he saw me when I was still desperate to use my last remaining strength to rip into anyone living I could get my hands on. Even with a shower, he couldn’t possibly see me like
that
.

Still, hot water on my skin sounds like absolute heaven. I try and push the surging wave of humiliation away from me and focus on what I have to look forward to.

Zack takes almost twenty minutes to get all of the permissions he needs to get for me to be able to take a shower. I have to wait for him in my cell, which is closed and relocked before he leaves, but at least he had the decency to look apologetic about it. My guard never leaves, staying right on the other side of the bars that divide cell from hallway. I worry he'll try to make small talk, but the two of us stand there in silence as we wait for Zack's return. When he finally comes back, he's carrying a fluffy white towel and what looks like a change of clothes.

I clap my hands together excitedly, something I used to do all the time at home with my parents but never in front of my friends. I wonder what other small mannerisms of mine I've forgotten about.

"Ready?"

"
So
ready."

My guard unlocks the cell door again and Zack ushers me out with a low bow. I figure I should be heading out the hallway the way everyone else comes in but wait for Zack to lead anyway. The taser hanging from the guard
’s belt says it's best not to make any assumptions.

We turn left at the end of the row
—as expected—and I watch as Zack punches a code into a panel beside the large metal door I've been listening to for the past few days. Its shiny surface is so dark it’s nearly black. Not at all what I imagined.

"Is everyone freaking out?" I ask Zack once our third wheel has fallen back a few steps behind us. "Is this like a big deal or something? My rehabilitation or whatever."

Zack smiles. "It's a huge deal. Parties-being-planned levels of excitement." I glance back at the dark-eyed man behind us. "We've just got to be careful."

It's only then that I notice how empty this hallway is. If everyone was really that excited, shouldn't there have been more people curious to see me? They couldn
’t get enough of me before, but where is everyone now?

"Am I in any danger here?" I would understand if there are people who have some grievances they want to take up with me by hurting me. I would understand completely.

"No, not at all. Almost everyone here is the science-nerd type—hardcore. They've been working toward something like this since the very first outbreak. Like I said,
big
deal. Everyone is just excited you’re here."

Then why the personal security? It takes embarrassingly long for the obvious answer to come to me.
"People are worried that I might still be dangerous?"

"Ahh, don
’t worry about Gregor. It's nothing personal. Because of how some of their other patients have responded, and because you spoke that once and then couldn't seem to do it again, they aren't sure you won't regress."

I guess I need to consider that that's a possibility, but everything within me says it isn't. Maybe I'm not one hundred percent myself again, but the beast is gone and all of her violent tendencies seem to have disappeared at the sam
e time. As far as I'm concerned, I'd be okay with never seeing an action movie again. Sunshine and puppies from here on out. Do they have movies anymore? Or puppies?

"I won
’t. Regress, I mean.”

"Well, that would be awesome. World-changing, epic-levels-of-a
wesome awesome."

"Awesome."

"Well, here's your stop." Zack comes to a halt in front of a door marked with a stick woman in a skirt and lab coat.

"Is there anyone else in there?" Suddenly I'm not so sure about this. I'm not ready for small talk or forced in
troductions. And what if I’m wrong and I change back to what I was? From the corner of my eye, I see Gregor shift his weight. Is he coming into the shower area with me? Kill me now. Except, not really. Please, please, not really.

"Nope, it
’s all yours. We'll be right out here if you need anything. There are no cameras though, so if you get into any trouble, holler."

"Noted." I don't wait for any further instruction, grabbing the small bundle Zack's been carrying and then leaning on the swinging door to let
myself inside.

It
’s a large public bathroom—several toilet stalls and four showers each separated by a tiled wall and a heavy curtain.