“How will we get inside?” I asked.
Quentin searched his pockets and pulled out a cigarette. “We’ll use the airshafts. There are no cameras and we can observe the rooms through the grids before we go in.”
“Grids?” Joshua said. “What will we do with them?”
“We’ll screw them off. I’ve got pliers.”
“Won’t that take too long?” I asked.
“Not if you’re fast.” Quentin let out a cloud of smoke and closed his eyes. He seemed so sure of himself and his plan. I wished I could share his optimism.
Now that we were near, it was hard to sit and wait, to feel the minutes and hours go by while Tyler and the Undergrounders were risking their life getting past the fence, while my dad was alone in L.A. turning into a Weeper.
In the night we moved on and the grey walls of the barracks came into view. A chain-link fence surrounded the entire complex with a crown of barbed wire on top. I expected watch towers and soldiers armed with machine guns but this looked like a normal military base.
Spotlights illuminated almost every inch of the fence. “We’ll have to cut through the wires there.” Quentin pointed at one of the few places that was cloaked in darkness. We hurried toward it and crouched in the shadows.
“Most of the staff are in their barracks. They should be sleeping.” Quentin’s whisper cut through the silence. He pulled a knife from his pants and started cutting the wires of the fence. “A little help?” He raised an eyebrow. Joshua crouched beside him and used his own knife to sever the wires. I knelt beside them in the small space that lay in darkness and watched our surroundings. A few soldiers crossed the distance between the two closest buildings. A flag hung limply from a white pole. It was at half mast. I couldn’t help but wonder if something terrible had happened or if the current situation of our world warranted keeping this sign of sadness permanently.
Quentin and Joshua cut out a small patch of the fence.
“Isn’t that too small?” I asked.
“Give it a try,” Joshua encouraged me.
I got down on all fours, then lowered myself to my stomach. With my arms I pushed through the fence.
A creak, then laughter and I froze. A group of four men, dressed in military uniforms, walked out of the prison-like building and toward the sleeping quarters – the only one without bars on the windows. We stayed silent until they were gone.
Joshua was next up to get through the fence. He pressed his arms against his sides but the edges of the wires dug into his shoulders. Grimacing, he pushed himself through. Quentin made it with only a few scratches.
We crept from building to building until we eventually got to the main site.
“What about alarms?” Joshua asked.
Quentin shrugged. “They have alarms for the labs but once I’ve hacked into their system, I’ll disable them. It might take me a bit longer if they’ve improved their computer system. But the way I’m planning to get us in should be fine.”
Quentin edged toward the far corner of the building. Above his head was a small vent. He turned to me. “Sherry, you’re the smallest. We’ll lift you up and you can remove the grid. Climb on my shoulders.”
Quentin knelt and I swung my leg over his shoulder and held onto his head to keep my balance as he straigtened.
I took the pliers he held out and reached for the screws attaching the grid to the building, twisting them until they came loose. Quentin gripped my calves to keep me in place, until I pushed the grid into the airshaft. Then he set me down on my feet.
“Can you give me a boost?” he asked. “I should go first.”
Joshua entwined his hands and held them out for Quentin who used them as a ladder. The muscles in his arms quivered when he pushed himself into the airshaft. I was next. Joshua hoisted me up and I pulled myself into the opening. It was too small to turn around or even crouch, but the inside of the duct wasn’t slippery so my hands found purchase. I wriggled further into the shaft until my knees and feet were inside. I crawled forward until my face was inches from Quentin’s shoes. Inside the tight confines of the shaft, my head throbbed in rhythm with my pounding pulse. I tried to look over my shoulder for Joshua but I couldn’t even angle my head in the right direction.
After some shuffling and swearing, Joshua was behind me. He touched my ankle to let me know he was there.
Next, Quentin began threading his way through the narrow ducts. Sometimes we passed grids that allowed us to catch a glimpse of what lay below; corridors with grey floors and glaring light from halogen lamps illuminating parts of the shaft. Soon Quentin stopped and raised an arm, palm outward.
“It’s one of the staff rooms,” he murmured. “There are computers.”
“Let’s get down there,” Joshua said.
With the light from below, I saw Quentin shaking his head. “There are still people around. We need to wait for them to leave.”
Minutes trickled by as we lay motionless on our stomachs. Voices carried up through the grids but I couldn’t make out the words. I wished I was in Quentin’s place so I could watch what was going on. Finally, there was silence.
“It’s okay. They’re gone,” Quentin said.
There were no lab tables or Weepers or human lab rats in the room, only rows of desks and shelves with folders and books. There weren’t any windows and only one door.
Joshua checked the ceiling. “No surveillance cameras.”
“But the labs and corridors are full of them,” Quentin said. He sat down on a chair in front of a computer and started tapping on the keyboard.
Shivering, I rubbed my arms. “Is there anything we can do?”
“You could film the folders and maybe what’s inside while I try to break into their system.”
Joshua pulled the camera from his backpack and turned it on. We walked up to the shelves. I picked up a folder marked “resistance”. Joshua held the camera on the pages that described tests on Weepers. They’d exposed them to extreme heat, cold, hunger, pain – all kinds of things.
“It’s horrible,” I whispered.
Joshua’s face was fierce. “If you build an army, you want to know what they are capable of.”
Suddenly, Quentin cursed.
“What’s up?” Joshua asked.
“It’s not letting me open the documents folder with the locations of their labs and military bases. I could probably break their coding if I had a few more hours.”
“You don’t,” Joshua said.
“I know,” Quentin said impatiently. “I’ve hacked into their surveillance system and disabled the cameras. They’re now frozen on a static picture. Eventually someone will notice but it’ll give us some time.”
“Did you find more info about the collared Weepers or the tests?” I tried to catch a glimpse at the computer screen but it was filled with some kind of coding.
“I could try to open those folders but like I said that’ll take more time. For now we should just film the folders on the shelves and try to film the labs with Weepers.”
“Then let’s move.” Joshua walked up to the white door of the room and pressed down the handle. I held my breath as he opened it.
We slipped into the corridor, keeping our backs pressed against the grey walls.
“Take the stairs,” Quentin whispered as he led us through a steel door into a hallway. “The floorplans haven’t changed since I worked here.”
Joshua bent over the banister and looked down. The staircase seemed to go down forever. How many floors were underground? It smelled of concrete and sterility. The air got stuffier the farther we descended.
Quentin stopped in front of a door that had “-2” written on it. “This is it,” he whispered as he pushed open the door and peeked out.
The corridor was dimly lit. It reminded me of a prison with its rough concrete floors and walls. It was completely silent down here. I kept close to Joshua as we crept along the corridor. We passed several more steel doors but Quentin led us to the one at the end.
As we entered, a wave of smells hit me and rooted me to the spot. Desinfectants, wet dog, urine, waste, blood.
Rows of lab tables and cages filled the room. My eyes darted over the unmoving human-looking forms lying on a few of the tables. I couldn’t tell if they’d been infected with rabies. There were a few Weepers and half-turned humans in cages. Joshua raised the camera and swept it over the tables. It felt bad, exploitative almost, to be filming them like this but we had no choice.
Joshua held out a second camera to me. “Quentin and I will film the files and the test persons. Can you film the Weepers?”
I took the camera and approached the cages. Some of the Weepers looked up. Their eyes were unfocused, their faces smeared with drool. I adjusted the focus to show a Weeper in detail, its eyes empty, but still too human. Before the rabies it had been a middle-aged man, I guessed. It was naked and cowered in the corner of its prison. It didn’t even notice me.
I moved on to the second cage. This Weeper was caught somewhere in the middle of the change and smaller than the one before. Its gaze flickered up when I appeared before it and I could tell that its features were female. It opened its mouth but instead of a growl or whine, only air came out. It was trying to form words. I stumbled on to the next cage and the next. How could the government do this to people?
“Sherry, are you almost done? We need to leave.”
“Just a sec.” I hadn’t filmed everything yet. Only two more cages and then another sweep of the room. My hands were clammy around the camera.
I zoomed in on the Weeper in the next cage. It had a shock of blond hair on its head and the face …
I clapped a hand over my mouth and fought a wave of sickness.
It was Bobby.
Wind blasted my hair around my head. Gulls screeched above us. White cotton-ball clouds dotted the sky.
A wave rolled toward us. I dug my fingers into Dad’s hair and pressed my legs against his chest.
He laughed and didn’t stumble as the water splashed against him. Cold droplets hit my face and bare legs. A scream-laugh gushed out of me. Dad gallopped through the waves, giving me a good shaking on his shoulders.
“Be careful, honey! Don’t let her fall in.” Mom stood on the beach, blonde hair like a fiery halo in the wind, red dress billowing behind her. Bobby held her hand and watched longingly. He’d get his turn soon.
Behind them the sky bled out of colors as the sun set. Another day of summer gone.
I gulped down air – fresh and salty – and raised my arms over my head, wishing I could touch the clouds in the neverending sky.
Chapter 14
Bobby hadn’t yet turned into a Weeper, but was caught somewhere in between. His fingernails were black and sharp, his skin covered with wiry fur but beneath it, I could see the usual softness of his face.
“Sherry?”
I tried to breathe but my lungs constricted.
“Sherry, what’s the matter?” I felt Joshua at my shoulder.
“It’s Bobby,” I whispered. “He’s alive.”
I reached for the lock but Joshua grabbed my hand. “No! We don’t know how far gone he is. We should give him the cure first and wait to see if it helps.”
I shook my head. “We don’t have time. It could take hours before the cure takes effect. The scientists could come back and find us.”
Bobby was staring at the ground, his arms hanging limply at his sides.
“He’s sedated. What could he possibly do? Please, Joshua. I can’t leave him here,” I begged.
Joshua bent over the lock. “We need something to break it open.” He looked over his shoulder at Quentin who stood a few feet behind us. “Give me the clippers.”
But Quentin shook his head. “They won’t do any good. It’s electronic. Maybe I can open it.” He perched in front of the lone computer at the end of the room and began typing.
I turned back to my brother. “Bobby?”
No reaction.
“We’ll get you out.”
His arms and shoulders were bandaged – probably where bullets had hit him. But still, no matter how distressing it was to see him like this, it was still Bobby. My little brother.
I heard the lock click open, and Quentin let out a relieved sigh. Without hesitation, I gripped the bars and pulled. Joshua didn’t try to stop me, but I could sense his body tense as if preparing for a fight.
“Bobby?” I whispered.
He didn’t react. His eyes were half-closed and smeared with the pus-like secretion. I seized his wrist and couldn’t help but shudder at the feel of his bristle-like fur. Quickly, I grabbed the vial and syringe from the backpack. Filling the syringe with one hand, I rested the other against Bobby’s cheek to calm him before injecting him. He twitched but didn’t react otherwise. I kept my palm on his face. He felt so hot and sweaty. I only hoped this would save him.
Joshua helped me drag Bobby out of the cage and toward the door. I looked over to the Weepers in the cages and the men on the tables. A feeling of complete hopelessness swept over me at the realization that we would be unable to save them. I didn’t want to leave them.
“Sherry,” Joshua warned.
With a last look at the creatures in the cages, I left.
Joshua and Quentin dragged Bobby up the stairs and I followed. Bobby hung in their grip like a sack of flour. It took forever to get him to the next level. Steps sounded behind the door on floor ‘2’. We pressed against the wall, holding our breaths. People were running through the corridor; only a few inches of concrete between them and us. I could hear agitated voices but not what they were saying. If they found us, it would be the end.
After a few minutes the noise settled down and we dared to move on. It was silent on the upper floors.
Back in the room where we’d arrived, I was drenched in sweat and my back hurt. How were we supposed to get Bobby up into the airshaft? He hung in our grip, the breath rattling out of his body. I felt no relief or happiness now. Bobby was alive, it was true, but I wasn’t sure how much longer we had. If the cure didn’t work on him, he’d soon be taken from me again.
“One of us has to get in there first to pull your brother up,” Joshua said. We pushed a desk under the shaft opening. Bobby lay motionless on the floor, his eyes half closed. If his chest hadn’t risen and fallen, I’d have thought he was dead.
Quentin jumped on the desk and heaved himself into the airshaft while Joshua and I wrenched Bobby up. Quentin extended his arms and the upper half of his body dangled out of the opening in the ceiling. With some pushing and cursing we managed to raise Bobby high enough so Quentin could grip his arms. He started pulling while Joshua and I pushed. Eventually Bobby disappeared into the airshaft.
Quentin’s head poked out a moment later. “Come on. Hurry.” I handed him the backpack with the cameras before Joshua and I climbed into the airshaft.
We crawled through the long duct, half dragging and half pushing Bobby forward. He was unresisting but heavy.
Quentin froze at the end of the airshaft. He pressed his finger against his lips, his eyes alert. I listened to the sounds of shouted orders as soldiers walked past our hiding place. Bobby squirmed against me and let out a quiet whine. “Shhh.” I stroked his hair but it didn’t calm him. If they heard him, we’d be done.
I closed my eyes as I leaned against the cold metal of the airduct. Bobby stopped moving but I could feel his pulse pounding under my fingertips.
“They’re looking for us,” Quentin said quietly.
37 minutes since we found Bobby. 29 minutes in the airshaft. How much longer till we’d be found?
“Sherry, draw your gun,” Joshua whispered. I did as he asked. There was a pause as we listened to the sounds outside.
44 minutes in the airshaft. 2640 long seconds.
Quentin hissed. “Now!” He disappeared from my view. Joshua pushed Bobby out and then he, too, jumped out. I crawled to the edge of the duct and got out feet-first. The new day was already dawning.
“
Hurry!” Quentin tugged at my arm. He and Joshua carried Bobby between them as we ran toward the spot in the fence we’d used earlier.
“Sherry, on your left!” Joshua hissed. I turned and saw two guards coming our way. They hadn’t spotted us yet but it wouldn’t be long. I raised the tranquilizer gun and shot two times. I heard a pop, and seconds later both guards fell to the ground, knocked out before they could make a sound. I was glad that we’d managed to keep one of the tranquilizer guns that Joshua’s dad had given us, stashed safely away with the cure. If they’d been washed away like our other stuff, we’d have had to use something much worse.
We knelt in front of the opening in the fence and crawled through. “Good job,” Joshua whispered as we hurried away, dragging Bobby with us.
I searched Bobby’s face for a change but nothing had happened. Secretion kept dripping from his eyes.
I wasn’t sure how long it took us to return to the car, but carrying Bobby half the way and dragging him the rest slowed us down. Ignoring Joshua’s protests, I got into the backseat with Bobby while he sat shotgun. I wanted to stay with my brother.
We drove without light to stay undetected. Bobby only stirred once before closing his eyes – which was better than seeing the milky blue. But there were no signs of progress.
It took us a couple of hours to reach the fence. The entire time I searched the sky for helicopters. We parked closer to it than was probably safe but we weren’t in any condition to walk a long distance. Our feet dragged as we trudged toward the tunnel opening. Exhausted we sank to the ground. Bushes hid us from curious eyes, though nobody was around. We’d hear if a helicopter was approaching.
For a moment all we did was sit and breathe and rest. I felt like I could sleep for weeks.
I stared into the endless darkness of the tunnel. An earthy, musty smell came from it. There was no sign of Tyler or the others anywhere. I hoped they’d made it through.