“Hello?” Amber spits. “Are you deaf? I’m talking to you.” Her face falls back down, and she proceeds to empty her gut.
“I see that,” Roméo says.
Amber coughs before lifting her head. “So answer me.”
“I already did.”
Oh, I like him.
“‘Maybe?’ That’s your answer?”
“Precisely.”
“All of you get out.”
“You don’t give the orders here,” Roméo says, towering over Amber. “It would be in your best interest to get rid of that attitude of yours. We’re the only ones here who can help you. So take some time to process that.”
“Jerk-off, who the hell are you?” Amber asks.
“All right, everyone out,” Roméo orders. “Lock her door. She’ll be screaming for help soon enough.”
“No, I won’t.”
“We’ll see.”
Bruno and Cole arrive with the change of clothes and more towels just as Bill, Grace, Roméo, and I exit the room.
“Oh shit. She’s dead?” Bruno looks disappointed.
Bill shuts her door and shakes his head. “She’s fun.”
“Told you,” I say.
“You don’t need the change of clothes?” Cole asks, as if he had to run a marathon and sacrifice his firstborn to get it.
“Not right now. Roméo here is letting the princess stew in her own juices. See how she likes it,” Bills says with a snicker.
“Now we talk,” Roméo says. “Let’s go to my room.”
Once inside Roméo’s room, we stand nervously, waiting to hear his diagnosis.
None of us sit down. Instead, we lean against the wall, and Roméo sits on his bed with his head in his hands. He takes a few deep breaths and runs his hands through his slick, sweaty hair.
It feels like minutes pass while we wait for the monitor to speak, to tell us something. And then he opens his mouth.
“Before I tell you anything, I need to know I can trust you. All of you.”
“Are you kidding me?” Bruno steps forward slightly. He looks like he is about to pounce on the guy.
“We’re risking our lives by keeping you down here,” Cole says. “We could have just delivered you to Wilson.”
“Then why haven’t you already?” Roméo’s tone is sharp, surprising.
No one speaks at first.
“Because Sutton trusted you,” I say, trying to push back tears. “He believed in you. He thinks you can put an end to … all of this.”
Roméo shakes his head. “Sutton. Sutton was a romantic, a fool.”
“What did you just say?” I ask.
“How can you say that?” Grace adds. “You don’t even know him.”
“I know a fool when I see one.”
Just like that, something snaps in me, and I go right for his throat.
I’m in a rage, hot, sweaty, and determined to choke the life out of this bastard. Thoughts fly to a broken Sutton face-down on the stage as Wilson kicks him in the ribs. Sutton trusted him. He trusted that if he could just make the monitors see what was happening, that everything would change, that they would put an end to the regime. Sutton believed, and I will not allow this man to belittle him, to make him out to be some hopeless idiot.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on a minute, Lexi.” Cole pulls my left arm back as Bruno pulls my right. I’m off the ground, suspended in air, feet kicking in the direction of Roméo’s head.
“What’s wrong with you? Let me go!”
“If I let you go,” Cole says, “you need to promise me that you are going to calm down.”
My heavy breathing and racing heart bang in my ears. I am all adrenaline, emotion, and limbs. Huffing, I charge toward Roméo again, my left arm somehow slipping from Cole’s grasp.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Bruno grabs me around the waist and pushes me back toward Cole as the two of them hold me in place.
“We need to hear him out, Lexi,” Cole says calmly in my ear, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “If he says or does one thing I don’t like, I will personally take him out.” Cole shoots a threatening look his way.
“And I’ll help,” Bruno adds. “In fact, it would be my pleasure.” A smile crosses his face. I think Bruno truly enjoys messing with people.
“Okay. I promise. I will hear him out. But that’s it. I don’t owe him anything. His next breath is not promised to him.” I have no idea where all this is leading, but I resolve to listen to what this stranger has to say. Unconvinced, Bruno and Cole keep a loose grip on my arms.
Roméo stands and begins to pace the room. He sighs heavily and then begins to open up. “Look, I understand this is personal for you, but I’m here to do my job, and it’s not about saving Sutton.” I grumble in response. “Let me explain,” he says. “The United Powers has been monitoring activity in the Hole ever since Sutton first made contact. Apparently, years back, Wilson, under the direction of the Commander, had a strain of virus made that was undetectable and lethal. He’s been working on it for some time now, trying to come up with just the right strain of the virus that will not only be contagious enough to infect others, but also so lethal that the human body doesn’t have enough time to fight back or make antibodies. Sutton suspected he was testing it on Sinners.”
“Oh my God,” Grace says.
“Are you saying he’s using them like human lab rats?” I ask, relaxing my arms against the strain of Cole and Bruno.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. He also mentioned the dark circle that forms around the injection site. So, yes, Amber has been infected with what could be the newest strain.”
“But how do we know this is true?” Cole asks. “There have been rumors for years about a Sinner’s sickness. No one really put much stock in it.”
I look at him. He’s never mentioned a Sinner’s sickness before. I feel queasy.
“Let me be clear. When Sutton came to us, he clearly had humanitarian ideals in mind. But, from the outset, the United Powers’ first and foremost concern was protecting ourselves and our allies from a biological weapons attack. Our goal is to stop the manufacturing of this virus. And, if we cannot do that, then to find a cure or a vaccine for the virus, without which millions of people could die.”
“My God. You aren’t here to save us. You aren’t here to stop Wilson. You’re here to save your own ass!” I lunge for him as Cole and Bruno pull me back again. I curse and scream at them. Don’t they realize what is happening?
“So your mission was basically to get samples of the virus?” Bruno asks.
“Unfortunately, yes. But I’m told he hasn’t perfected the virus. He was trying to make it airborne. It seems he is still injecting it into people. And, frankly, how contagious it is or isn’t at this point is questionable.”
“But we’ve seen people in the streets who look like they’re on their last leg. We touched those people.” Grace places a hand on her stomach. She looks like she may hurl.
“Unless you exchanged bodily fluids, you are okay. And even then, it all depends on how long they’ve had it. They may no longer be contagious. From what I can tell, an infected is only contagious until the fever sets in. So if Amber had a fever when you brought her in, then I don’t believe she is currently contagious.”
“How do you know so much about contagious diseases?” Grace asks.
“I am the former head of Infectious Disease Control and Education for the United Powers.”
“Oh that’s great!” Grace sounds relieved. She comes to my side. “He’s really smart. That’s a good thing, don’t you think?”
I nod.
“So now that you know it’s happening, will the United Powers send in forces?” Bruno asks.
“Not yet. They won’t send in any troops until they know for sure that’s what’s happening. They only have Sutton’s theory to go off of, and unfortunately, that’s not enough for them. They want solid proof. And frankly, they may hold off until news of a vaccine or cure is found.
They won’t risk more lives.”
“But the lives of Sinners are okay to risk?” I ask, my chest puffing out again. “People are dying.”
Roméo looks at the brand around my neck. Something I can’t figure out crosses his face. Disgust maybe? “A few convicted criminals dying is of little consequence.”
“Convicted? These people are merely accused. All it takes is for someone to say a person looked at them the wrong way, and that person ends up here, branded, like Lexi—falsely accused. There is no trial. No jury of peers. No conviction. Just a brand and the worst kind of prison imaginable,” Cole says.
No one speaks. Roméo hardly bats an eyelash. Oh no. He knows. He’s known all along. The Hole and what happens here—he already knew and doesn’t care one bit.
I slump backward into Cole’s and Bruno’s arms. I’m going to faint. My eyes move from side to side, my lashes flutter. I’m getting hot.
Cole, Bruno, Grace, and Bill speak to me at once. I can hear them, but it’s muffled. Their words sound like drums beating against my ear. I’m weak and nauseous. I want to lie down.
Bill smiles at me, concern on his face. He places a cool, wet towel on my forehead and holds it there as Cole and Bruno bring me to a sitting position on the ground. I’m acutely aware of how embarrassed I am. As I settle against Cole’s shoulder, everything goes black.
My lids flick open. They’re still here. I glance around for some indication as to how long I’ve been out. Now, I’m lying down, wet cloths on my head and neck, and Grace holding my hand.
Bill, Cole, and Bruno are actively engaged in a conversation with Roméo that sounds even more heated than before I passed out.
“You okay?” Grace smiles down at me when she sees I’m awake.
I don’t respond. Instead, I listen to the men talking.
“When the Commander first built the Hole, he funneled every cent into the lab. Now we’re seeing the results of years of that research and development. I suspect the first Commander had his reasons, mainly experimental, maybe even to gain some control over the Sinners. After all, there are far more Sinners than soldiers. But the second one, Sutton’s brother? Judging from what I’m seeing here, his reasons are far more diabolical,” Roméo says.
“One bad decision led to another,” Bruno says.
“Lunatics,” I say and slowly sit up. “But it makes sense.” I mean, I remember tidbits of conversations between Father and others about lab experiments, but I never imagined it’d look like this. My stomach knots itself into a pretzel. I recall one conversation clearly now.
“There’ve been rumors of mass rapes and beatings,” his friend had said. “Keep your children inside. It’s not safe out there anymore.”
“I know; I’m afraid it’s only going to get worse,” my father had replied. “Yet somehow, they manage to cover up most of it. I’m not sure we’ll ever know the full magnitude.”
“Have you heard anything about the lab testing—?”
“Shhh! That’s enough. We need to take this conversation somewhere else,” my father said.
I shake the memory away.
“So what prompted the United Powers to care? I mean, why now? Sutton is convincing and passionate, but there must be a reason you guys were sent here now,” Bruno says.
Anger flashes through Roméo’s eyes as he turns toward Bruno.
“About six months ago, a Sinner crossed the border into Canada. We’re not sure if he was sent by Wilson or if the man escaped. But he was deathly ill by the time he was taken to the hospital. When he died, they performed an autopsy, and it confirmed he died from an unknown virus. Medical professionals have never seen anything like it before, and the only reason they know it came from the Hole is because the man had been branded. So when they heard Sutton’s theory, it immediately caught their attention. But they’re demanding solid evidence, and until they get it, the United Powers will watch from afar.”
“Sinners don’t escape,” Bill says. “Before the rebellion, not a single person got out. So Wilson had to have sent him. Right?” It was the most intelligent thing Bill had said since I’d known him. We all stared at him in disbelief.
“It’s certainly a possibility,” Roméo says. “But we can’t know for sure.”
“Makes me wonder what the Sinners are being told when they’re injected,” Cole says.
“There’s only one way to find out,” I say. “I’ll be right back.” I stand, a bit shaky, and then steady myself before sprinting down the hall back to the room Amber’s being held in. I unlock the bolt, open the door, and shut it behind me with a click.
Amber’s curled into the fetal position at the top of her bed in the one spot not saturated with her vomit. The smell of rotten eggs, milk, and rancid meat swirls around the room, causing me to almost pass out again. I pull my shirt over my nose and move toward her.
“Wake up,” I say.
“Get out,” she replies.
“Not until you answer my questions.”
“Go to hell.”
“This is serious, Amber,” I say through gritted teeth. “Why’d you get a shot today?”
“It’s none of your business.” She sits up and looks at me with bloodshot eyes. She swings her fists, but she’s so weak it’s like being hit with a feather. I grab her wrists with ease, holding her until she’s too tired to fight me.
“Tell me.”
“Let go of me!” she screams.
“Answer me.” I grasp her wrists harder. My hands completely encircle them, she’s so thin.
“Ahhhhh! A vaccine,” she blurts out.
“For what?” I ease up just enough to let her know I’ll stop if she keeps talking.
“For what’s killing us. But you wouldn’t know about that, would you? You’re healthy. You look like you’re one bagel away from High Society.”
I don’t look nearly as malnourished as she does, but still, I don’t remember the last time I ate real food.
“You were told it was a vaccine?”
“Yes.” Tears drip down her face.
“What else did they say?”
“That it was up to us if we wanted it or not, but they only had a hundred of them.”
“Did everyone with you choose to get vaccinated?”
“Why wouldn’t they? Who wants to die from that?”
“And you didn’t know they’d force you to go get the shot either way?”
“No, why would I assume that?” she asks, her voice incredulous.
“Was there anything else they had you do?”
“No.”
“How about your information—did they write your name down?”
“Yes.” I release her wrists, and she flops back down to her pillow. “This is ridiculous.”
The door opens, and Cole stands there, pinching his nose. “You get everything you need out of her?”
I nod in his direction and then turn back to her and say, “I’ll be back to get you cleaned up.”
“No, wait! You know something don’t you?” Her voice dances on the edge of panic, and she speaks quickly, trying to grab my arm as I move back.
“I have to go.”
“Bitch. I answered your questions.” She narrows her eyes at me.
I leave the room and bolt the door, and Cole pulls me into his arms.
“Until we know everything about this virus, I’m not comfortable with you being around her.”
“She’s not contagious anymore; you heard Roméo.”
“Still. She’s evil.”
“Evil or not, she’s dying. And I’m not like Wilson. I won’t leave her in there to rot away in her own filth.”
“So let someone else take care of her.”
“Yeah, like who? Bill?”
“Why not?”
“You’re joking, right?” By the look on his face, I know he’s not.
Back in his room, Roméo is writing with his right leg crossed over his left, tapping his right foot in the air.
“They were told it was a
vaccine, one that would keep them from getting the virus that’s going around the Hole,” I say, winded from my encounter with Amber. Roméo looks up at me as if I’m a distraction from important work. “They made them feel lucky, almost honored, that they were chosen.”
All eyes rest on me.
“Wilson’s a sick son of a bitch,” Bruno says. His tucks his hands into his pockets. Grace sits at his feet with her head leaning against his legs.
“So now what?” I ask Roméo.
“We document everything: her symptoms, how long they last. We count the hours or days that she lives. And we need to find out where in the hospital Sutton’s records are hidden. My guess is that Sutton could be the key to blowing this wide open.”
“His office,” I say with a shrug. “It’s the only place he charted. But wouldn’t Sutton have told us if he had anything to do with these experiments? If anything, he was trying to stop them.”
“He’s smarter than Wilson.” Cole says. “I imagine he hid any records well.”
I turn and rest my forehead against Cole’s chest; the softness of his cotton shirt feels good against my skin. He encloses me with his arms and kisses the top of my head. Then he pushes me away for a second.
“Roméo, is it safe to be around Amber?” Cole asks what we’re all thinking.
Roméo takes a second to consider the question before responding, “I don’t think she is contagious any longer. Otherwise, I wouldn’t risk your lives or mine.”
Zeus snores loudly from his spot in the far left corner of the room, and it draws our attention until Bruno speaks again.
“She may not be contagious anymore, but I’m pretty sure she’s dying. That’s not news anyone wants to hear.”
“Should we tell her?” Grace asks.
“Not yet,” Roméo says.
Cole shoves his hands into his pockets and shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
“Okay, Bill, you got nominated to help me clean up Amber. Shall we do this?” I look at Bill, whose bushy eyebrows raise up on his forehead. They almost blend in with his wild hair.
“Why do I always get stuck cleaning up bodily fluids?” He looks genuinely offended. I shoot him a “because-you’re-crazy-as-hell” look, and he acquiesces. “I’ve got gloves, some bleach, and a few scrub brushes.”