Chapter Thirteen: Caryn
“Jump!” Kai leaps over some crates and pulls me with him into an alley. The tall brick walls on either side block out the light from the suns. We race to the end of the alley and turn right onto the quiet street. I can hear the two men running in the alley, but already they seem to be slowing and puffing. Kai isn’t even breathing hard and his calm demeanor helps keep my rising emotions in check.
I can feel the distance growing between us and our pursuers, but then five men round the corner of the intersection in front of us. Kai stops and looks around for somewhere we could go. The buildings on both sides look closed or are boarded up. We turn to face the two men panting and Kai starts to move toward them. The guy on the right was smaller and heavier and the guy on the left was tall and lean. They walk closer, standing straighter, as they see the reinforcements blocking our exit.
Kai never takes his eyes off them, but in a soft, calm voice that only I can hear, he says, “We’re going to run at the short guy. Stay at my right and keep going no matter what.”
I nod and steel myself to run faster and harder than I do during training, but I never get the chance.
In that moment a force field falls between us and the two men. It crackles with energy and both men stare at it in surprise. The smaller man reaches up to touch it, hearing his partner’s warning too late, and is instantly thrown ten feet back. The small hairs on my neck stick out and dance a bit as another force field drops to protect our rear. The five men stop their advance and then begin to take steps backwards as the force field moves closer to them. Kai and I have more room since the force field between us and the two men stays where it is.
I hear another force field drop, but this one blocks off the left section of the road the five men came from and forces them to go back the way they came. They all back away, not wanting to touch either of the force fields, especially since they had just seen what happened to the smaller guy. Together both fields move closer to the five men until they turn and disappear and we are left with an open road.
“Well, that was interesting,” Kai says. We take a left and set a fast pace walking away from Old Highton and the crowd.
“How did that happen?” I ask.
He takes my hand and flips it over so the gold card glints in the light.
“It’s probably this. They can track your heart rate and monitor your stress level with it. See how it attaches to your skin. And if they think you might be in danger they can do all that stuff. Plus,” he points up at the buildings, “there are cameras everywhere.”
I follow his gaze and notice small round black circles every twenty feet on every building. They are everywhere. I duck my head and tuck a wisp of hair behind my ear.
“Why did those people want you?” Kai asks.
The only answer that stands out in my mind is that it has something to do with the Compound. Some of the signs suggested they didn’t want the cure. But why would anyone not want something that could save their lives?
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“There you are,” a girl says. Mentally I cringe at being pointed out again as the girl leaps over a golden path and jogs across the street to our side.
“What are you doing?” Kai asks, stepping between us.
“Get out of my way.” She pushes against Kai, but I have to nod before he lets her pass. “My dad sent me to get you. I’m Sara.”
“I’m Caryn and this is Kai. Your dad is Dr. Hudson?”
She nods once setting her crinkled black hair in motion. “Yeah, he’s busy again. I recognized you from the picture they have up everywhere. So are you ready?”
“Ready for what?” Kai asks.
Sara rolls her eyes. “You’re coming to my house for dinner.”
“Yes, I’m ready.” I smile.
“Good. It’s about five blocks from here, but it’s not a long walk if you’re used to it,” Sara says, leading us away from the main square and the Memorial. It wouldn’t feel right to call it the main square by itself.
Sara takes us past from the attractive shops and down residential streets where the houses crowd around each other, not at all spaced out like the houses on the outskirts of Highton had been. Some of these houses are not kept up as I notice long grass in one yard and a broken windowpane in the house next to it. Then the houses have no yard at all and are surrounded by cement. At one of these houses, a brown house with two stories and white shutters, Sara turns and presses her hand on the door sensor.
“Mom, I’m back!” Sara yells, as she walks in the door. “And I’ve brought the company.”
“Sara, what have I said about shouting in the house?” a soft, woman’s voice asks from above us on the right. I peer inside and see a set of steps directly ahead of us leading up and another set to the left leading down. There is a window in the wall next to the upstairs and I hear something clatter and footsteps.
“If we have guests then I would think it would be an even greater reason to use your inside voice,” the woman’s voice continues and then she appears standing at the top of the steps. A small woman wearing a flower printed apron over a pair of slacks and she wipes her wet, light brown hands, a lighter brown than Sara’s, on a corner of the apron.
The light behind her glints off of her reddish, dark brown hair and her brown eyes settle first on Sara with a correctional gaze, the kind of look that says to behave. Then she sees us and a warm smile fills her face.
“Welcome, I’m Mrs. Hubbard, Doc Hubbard’s wife. Dinner is almost ready. Sara I need you to bring your brother and sister up from the bottom basement,” Mrs. Hubbard says and she disappears back into the kitchen.
“This way.” Sara heads down the stairs on the left and we follow her. At the first landing a sharp smell of disinfectant and chemicals burn the hairs in my nose. It reminds me of the labs the scientists use at the Compound. Sara points to the closed door leading away and says, “The first basement is for Dad’s patients and his lab. We’re not allowed to go in there without permission.”
We continue down another flight of stairs and are immediately embraced by a flowery scent and warm light. Several leather couches face each other in a circle with wooden tables positioned between each couch. Something light scraps across the floor and then stops.
“It’s only Sara,” a young voice says.
“Yeah, you better be glad it’s me and not Mom,” Sara says, plopping on one of the couches. “She’d have a fit if she saw you coloring on her white carpet again. Dinner’s ready.”
A young boy and a little girl sprawl on the floor. Colorful pages and markers are spread in twin arcs in front of both children. The little girl has straight light brown hair more like her mothers and she stares up at me with eyes so green they seem to shine. The boy takes one quick look at me and then he starts to gather up their papers.
“Come on, Lissa. We need to put these away before Mom comes down,” he says.
“But I’m not finished yet,” she says, sweeping up her papers and pushing them out of her brother’s reach.
Sara turns to me and says, “This is Jackson and Melissa. Kids, this is Caryn and Kai. Be nice, they’re guests.”
“Do you want Mom to get mad?” Jackson asks Melissa, ignoring us completely.
Melissa’s eyes widen and she shakes her head.
“Then we need to put everything away. We can finish it--” Jackson breaks off to cough. He coughs five times each one sounding worse than the one before, when he stops his eyes are watery and his forehead a light shade of pink on his otherwise tan skin.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
Jackson sniffs but continues to pick up the crayons around him and says, “I think I might be getting a cold.”
Covering her mouth, Melissa coughs into her hand. Short, dainty coughs.
“Me too,” she says.
“You are not,” Sara says. “Now hurry or I’ll tell Mom what you were doing.”
Jackson and Melissa run into one of the
adjacent rooms with papers and crayons clutched to their chests. When they come back we start up the stairs.
“My mom is really not a good cook, just to warn you. She’s great as long as she follows a recipe or has a pre-made mix, but if she adds one thing she ends up changing the whole recipe. Once she made us pizza that turned into tomato dumpling soup with bacon pieces.”
“I remember that,” Jackson said, his hand slides along the handrail. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“I remember it too,” Melissa adds, her arm and body positions in an almost perfect duplicate pose of Jackson’s.
“No, you don’t Lissa. You--” Jackson bursts into another fit of coughing. We all pause so we don’t bump into him.
“You were six months old so Mom didn’t give you any.” Sara finishes her brother’s thought. She scrunches her eyes at him as his coughing morphs into a hoarse bark. “Cover your mouth. You’re going to give us all the plague.”
“He is not!” Melissa protests. She pats his back waiting for his ragged breathing to get under control. When he does stop his face is drained of color. By the time we reach the tops of the stairs and enter the dining room, long, slow breaths rattle out of his lungs. Each one less shallow than the one before until he is breathing normally, but his face remains a pale shade of tan. Melissa hovers near him, her small hand patting his arm. Even Sara seems a bit subdued after seeing him crumble into his chair, her lips press together and her fingers violently twist the edge of her shirt.
“When Dad comes,” Sara says. “You’re going to tell him you’re sick.”
Jackson sits straighter and tries to smile. “I’m fine. It’s just the dust in the air collecting in my chest and giving me a cold. We probably need to change the filter or something.”
“Well, if you won’t tell him I will,” Sara said. She crosses her arms.
“Why do you have to be so mean?” Jackson glares at her. “I feel fine now. Dad doesn’t need to look at me.”
“Yeah Sara, you’re mean,” Melissa repeats.
Sara shrugs her shoulders, but I see the muscles in her cheeks tighten.
Kai sits in the empty chair next to Jackson and I sit across from him in an empty chair next to Sara. There are some rolls already set on the table and Kai grabs two barely letting the one stay on his plate for five seconds.
“Here it is,” Mrs. Hubbard says. She sets a large dish of roast beef and seasoned potatoes, all covered in a yellow sauce with blue specks.
Sara rolls her eyes so only I can see.
The front door opens. Mrs. Hubbard leaves and when she returns Doc Hubbard is with her. He smiles at me and nods at Kai.
“I apologize for not being able to be with you earlier today,” Doc Hubbard says. “Something came up at work.”
“Something always comes up,” Sara says, but I notice it isn’t said as loudly as some of her other statements are.
“That is okay,” I say. “I have enjoyed meeting your family.”
“I am going to wash my hands. Go ahead and start without me,” Doc adds the last part to his wife, but before he leaves the room Jackson starts coughing. He coughs so hard his lungs begin to wheeze and his tan skin returns to an ash color.
“Dad,” Sara says, speaking over the coughing. “Jackson is sick. He’s been coughing like this all day. I told him to tell you, but he doesn’t listen to me.”
Then Jackson’s coughing stops, but he isn’t breathing either. He freezes for a second, his eyes roll back into his head and he falls into Kai’s lap.