Duality (The Hitchhiker Strain) (23 page)

"Cole." I half-whisper his name without thinking, my thoughts forcing their way into words.

"Yeah?"

"If we do this, it means we might not see each other for a long time. Maybe months." There's no turning back now.

Cole sighs, long and sad. "I know."

"I think maybe
—"

"I was worried you might say that." Can he read me that easily? Part of me is tempted to take the easy way out and let his admission hang in the air like it's enough
to sever the bond between us, but he deserves better.

"It's just that we both have so much going on." To anyone else, this might sound like a pathetic excuse, but it's a pathetic excuse that has never been truer than it is with Cole and me. "Even before th
is, we both have big things that we're working toward and I've been feeling like maybe we're holding each other back."

At that, Cole's eyes widen a little. "You think I'm holding you back?"

"Maybe a little, but more the other way around. When I was here, you'd spend hours sitting with me and sorting through stuff for your dad, paperwork that could be done by pretty much anyone. As soon as I'm gone, they have you monitoring the infected for signs of...something I can't even start to understand." Cole looks like he wants to argue. I don’t give him the chance. "It's not that I don't think you're great.” Did I really just say that?
Ugh
. “And there's a lot about us that works so well. But maybe there are bigger things going on for both of us right now? I think we might both be better off focusing on ourselves right now. Well, that and this whole ‘try to save the world’ thing we're working on."

A variety of emotions play across Cole
’s face—confusion, sadness, anger, and possibly even acceptance. He knows I’m right. Now he has to accept it. “Fine. So we’ll spend less time together and each work on our own stuff.”

“
That’s not really an option anymore though. We’re
leaving
.” The reality of our plan hits me like a freight train. If we can get everyone else on board, then we’ll each be heading off in different directions, looking for signs of civilization. “There isn’t time to reevaluate and fix this right now. It’s not something I want either of us to be worrying about.”

“
So that’s it then? You convince me to put together this heist or whatever with you, and as soon as we’re done you’re what, dumping me?” It’s hard to argue with that. That isn’t how I meant it.

“
I’m not very good at this,” I say, knowing it’s a half-assed apology. “I just… I think it’s for the best. For both of us. Maybe when things settle down again…” Who knows if they ever will though? Normal is a thing of the past. Now it’s all about surviving the next disaster. I want this conversation to be over. I want to go back to talking about how we’re going to change everything and exactly what we need to do to make that happen. I
don’t
want to talk about feelings or relationship logistics anymore.

Which is exactly how I know I made the right decision.

By ten thirty at night, everyone I asked for has gathered in the atrium, along with a handful of people I wasn't expecting. Dooley sits with Liam and a couple other guys I only know in passing. Beside them is a twenty-something girl whose mother works in administration—Carly or Kaylee. Something like that. Most days she works in the cafeteria despite being a pretty awful cook. On the other side of the group is Gregor, the oldest person here by far. The rest of the group is made up of the people I expected—Zack and Chelsea, Alex, a lab tech who is always on about the big picture and how we're going to change the world, and Cole.

I lean over toward Zack and nod my head toward Chelsea's security detail. "What is he doing here? Top secret, remember?"

"I don't know how he found out," Zack whispers back, but he doesn't look worried. "An hour ago he approached Chelsea and me and said he wanted in. He went into this big speech about honor and benefitting the greater good. Honestly, he sounded a lot like you. So I took a chance. He could be a huge asset."

"Or he could have turned us a
ll in already!"

"Savannah, trust me. This guy has seen firsthand how quickly Chelsea has changed and how much better off she is because of it. He wants to help."

"Fine," I grumble, getting up from my spot. I'm as ready as I'll ever be to address this group, my captive audience.

"Listen up!" I start. Then I wait for everyone else's hushed conversations to taper off. When all eyes are on me, I take one last shaky breath and continue. "Two nights from now, we're leaving. We're leaving the Initiative, and we're
going to change the world."

No one says a word.
Eleven sets of eyes stare back at me. At least no one talks back and calls me a delusional crazy person. If anything, they look enthralled. Liam is even smirking a little like he knows something big is about to go down. I don’t know yet how much each of them knows or what they were told in order to get them here, but Cole and I agreed that we’d bring in the people we knew we could trust and were interested in doing more to make things better.

Maybe, just maybe, this will actually work.

"All right. Here's what's going to happen..."

Chapter 29 – Chelsea

The overhead lights click off. For a moment, we're completely enveloped in darkness until someone turns on the spotlight. A new, harsher light surrounds me, making it nearly impossible to see anything else in the room. I can make out the shad
owy outlines of the others, though not enough tell who is who. It's probably for the best. I'd rather not have an audience at all.

The blinking light of the
video recorder changes from red to green. That's my cue. For half a second, I'm frozen in place as my script and the entire plan escape me. I don’t want to be the face of a revolution—I never asked for any of this. The green light mocks me and I know I can't wait any longer. It's show time.

I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear and begin. "My name is Chelsea Zimmerman." My mouth feels so dry. I wish I'd thought to have a bottle of water here with me, but it's too late now. Better to power through and
get this over with. "Approximately seven months ago, I was infected with the advanced strain of the same virus that has ravaged our country since September." I pause to try and build tension before the big reveal. We need to be sure people are really listening. "About a week ago, I was cured."

I roll up the sleeve of my shirt and expose the still scabby bite mark to the camera, exactly as we planned. All day today, whoever could get away from their obligations spent their time perfecting
this
. Everything from what I’m supposed say to how I should say it has been discussed from top to bottom. And yet instead of coming up with anything definitive, I ended up with a mish-mash of directions. Try and stick to the facts to make sure people don't doubt the validity of what I'm saying. Keep steady eye contact with the camera. Do my best to be likable and as human as possible. What does that even mean?

With a slow, deep breath, I continue trying to sound sure of myself. This is it
—my chance at redemption. I won’t let it pass me by.

"I was bitten and infected early on in the second wave of outbreaks. It happened quickly and not painlessly. In those days, everyone was constantly on the brink of panic. Without hesitating, my dad shot the man who attacked me before turni
ng the gun on me. My own father almost put a bullet in my head that first night to save me the pain of a slow, prolonged death. Back then, we knew that the vaccination wasn't working like it was supposed to, but we didn't know what other side effects were in store for me."

I remember my dad's face as he considered the two possible fates that opened up for me as those teeth sank into me. He thought it would be better to kill me but knew my mom would never forgive him if she didn
’t get to say goodbye. I think I’ll keep that part to myself.

“
Those first days were full of tears and goodbyes as my parents had to mentally prepare themselves to shoot me as soon as the virus killed me. It never happened. I got better. They thought it was a miracle, but I already knew better. I could feel myself changing..."

I spend the next twenty minutes going over my story as best as I can, trying to incorporate the right mixture of details to catch people
’s attention without making them too uncomfortable. A few times, someone yells cut and I have to go back and rephrase something I've said. By the end, I don't envy whoever is going to get stuck editing this mess into something convincing.

"Now, the people who saved me and who have been working with me since want to share what we'v
e learned with the rest of the world. We've waited as long as we can, and for most, the cure is far from perfect. But it's a start." I pause, trying to make it easier to break my lines of dialog in two and cut in footage of some of the other, less impressive subjects. We don't want to sell anyone lies. We want to give them all of their options as honestly as we can. We're not making any false promises here.

“
If you’re seeing this footage, that means you still part of a community, big or small, that is fighting to survive. No matter what resources you have or how many people are still alive within your group, we think we can help each other. For now, we’ve brought you what little we can spare, but with that comes hope. Death is an inevitability now more than ever, but we need you to know that your loved ones who are infected and survive…” How do I politely say ‘Please don’t shoot them in the head and think you’re doing them a favor’? “Help is coming for them. Hang on a little bit longer and we’ll do everything we can to help bring America back from the dead.”

“
Cut!” Dooley yells from behind the camera.

“
Too cheesy?” I ask.

“
No, it’s perfect!” Savannah flicks on the main light again and we all cover our eyes until they adjust. “You could have a future in politics. That was great.”

“
So what else do we need?” Zack asks, offering me his hand to help me off of the ridiculously high stool I’ve been perched on.

“
For now, that’s it,” she answers. “Now it’s up to Dooley to get us the DVDs we need and Cole to do the rest.”

“
Anything we can do to help?” I offer. I should probably resent Savannah a little more for taking control of this entire thing that I technically set in motion, but I can’t. She’s a natural.

Savannah smiles mischievously. “
Not a thing. The two of you have the entire day to do
whatever
you want.” From somewhere behind her, one of the guys snorts back a laugh, but I can’t tell who because suddenly my shoes are the most fascinating thing in the room.

Despite Savannah
’s blatantly obvious suggestion, Zack and I end up back in the atrium. Alone on our little couch but surrounded by people. Some I recognize and others I don’t, and none of them have any idea what’s in store. Most of them still stare at me, not even bothering to look embarrassed when I catch them, but at least they keep their distance.

"I hate that I can't go with you."

“I hate that you’re going to be stuck here when the shit hits the fan. I mean, they obviously won’t do anything to you. It’s just going to be kind of tense for a while.” That’s probably an understatement. We all knew what it was we were signing up for after Savannah explained what she had in mind, and we agreed to see it through. The risks for me are a lot less than for almost anyone else—I’m in no position to complain.

“
That’s the deal though, right? Cole would have been willing to call this whole thing off if anyone had tried to get me out of here. I’m basically a prisoner of my own awesome brain chemistry. I get it. Me and my brain and the countless blood samples I’m sure they still want to take are needed here.”

“
Plus,” Zack says, “right now you’re the only actual proof anyone has of how much potential Veritas has. Without you, there’s no real way to show anyone for sure that what we’re telling them is the truth. We can’t risk you getting hurt or reinfected.”

Now there
’s something that hadn’t crossed my mind before. Hello new nightmares. “Could that happen?”

“
I have no idea.” Zack shrugs. “They’ve probably already tested the idea on previously cured patients.”

“
I hope so. That’s a whole round of testing that I won’t be signing up for any time soon. Or ever.” Zack laughs at that. I hope he doesn’t think I’m kidding. I’m all for the greater good, but no way. What if my body has adapted to Veritas or something like that and then the whole thing happens all over again, except now I’m stuck for good?

Zack reaches over and squeezes my hand, bringing me back to reality. “
You’ll be fine here. Gregor is staying behind too and the two of you can be like our inside men or something. If anything goes wrong and they won’t let us back in, you can, like, feed us information and supplies or something like that.”

“
And then what? I’ll never see you, any of you, again? It’ll be a life of secret messages and clandestine meetings between you and Gregor?”

“
We don’t know that. Once the dust settles, everyone will have to find a new way of coexisting together. And eventually there will be so many walking, talking previously infected that you’ll be able to do whatever you want.” Zack’s voice is sharp and determined. He’s still acting a little jittery, but I think he at least got
some
sleep the night before. Throwing all of this on top of dealing with his friend’s death could mean it takes him a bit longer to recover. I just wish I could be with him to help. “Wait, so would you miss me?”

“
What?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

“
Are you going to miss me while I’m away? Or if I don’t come back.”

For that, I punch him in the shoulder. “
Don’t even talk like that, Zack. You’re coming back.”

Zack looks anything but sur
e. “I’m not much of a fighter. And I don’t really do well on my own.”

“
You don’t need to be a fighter, or alone, for any of this. It’s all about people skills, right? Traveling to different parts of the country, finding other survivors, showing them proof of Veritas, the whole nine yards. You’ll be helping people. Like you helped me. You’ll be amazing.” The last part comes out so hushed and dramatic that even I know it’s a little cheesy.
Come on, Chelsea. Say it now or you may never get the chance.
“But yeah, I’m still really going to miss you.”

Zack smiles, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to respond. The longer he waits, the harder my heart starts to beat against my ribcage. I
’ll settle for anything at this point, but would an ‘I’ll miss you too,’ really kill the guy?

“
Come with me,” he says, setting his jaw. Sometimes Zack is almost too easy to read. And then other times, like this one, I have no idea what is going through his head.

I exhale in exasperation. “
What?” Zack gets up and pulls me after him. “Where are we going?”

“
Trust me.” So I follow him back into the halls of the residential section. With the way he’s been acting these past two days, I’m not sure how much I trust his judgment, but I still trust him to keep me safe. If he needs to get away from prying eyes, so be it.

When he finally stops moving, we don
’t seem to be anywhere in particular.

“
Chelsea,” he says before even turning back around to face me. When he does turn back, his eyes look sad and unsure. “Before I go, I need you to know some things. In case I don’t come back.”

Now I
’m worried. He’s been acting so on edge since Savannah got back, always on the verge of panic. At first I would have said he was in nonstop flight mode, coming up with all these plans as a way to flee from whatever demons were chasing him. A prey animal, but one with an undeniable will to keep moving and survive. Now it’s like the panic has overcome him completely. He thinks he’s going to die out there.

“
You’re going to be fine,” I tell him again.

“
Please… listen. Chelsea, I think you’re completely amazing. Strong and beautiful and unstoppable. I can’t imagine all of the things you’ve been through, but I need you to know that you’re incredible. The way you’ve managed to navigate your way back to humanity… It’s inspiring.”

I take a step toward him, reaching for his hand, but he pulls it back before I make contact. His eyes are still stormy and unfocused. “
I couldn’t have done any of it without you,” I tell him, trying to use the tone of my voice to convey the truth of the statement. “Right from day one, you were my rock. An anchor even, keeping me secure on this side of my sanity. You’re stronger than you think. It’s all going to be okay.”

The corner of his mouth twitches slightly as he considers my words. “
You mean it?”

And then I know how to show him how much he means to me. How much I need him. I reach my hand up and touch his cheek. "Zack..." When my skin makes contact with his, I can feel something comes over him. He
’s no longer frozen in the headlights. Instead, he feels steady. Still. And in that moment, the feeling passes from him to me as easily as breathing.

I lift my head up as he tilts his down, and for once I'm not worried about if I'm doing the right thing or if I'm going to somehow screw this up with my z
ombie girl awkwardness. When he kisses me, it's both comfortable and electric all at once.

And for one perfect moment, I don't feel like a freak or a science experiment or a dead chick walking. I
’m just a girl with butterflies in my stomach and Zack's fingers tangled in my hair. His lips move, firm and determined, against mine and all thought escapes me.

"I won't be gone long, I promise." Zack's voice is hushed and sincere as he hovers outside my door later that night.

After a few hours with him, I’m practically floating, but the reality of tomorrow is starting to bring me back down to earth. I want so badly to believe him, but we both know it's not that simple. Something could happen to him out there and I'd never know. Or he could make it back in a matter of weeks only to be tossed out again for our betrayal. Beyond the one more day we have until he leaves, we have no idea what the future holds for either of us.