“The fact that you’re sorry is why I want to help you, Coalhouse. Please …”
But he wouldn’t listen. He just kept driving, changing highways a few times, going down a few back roads. Anytime we caught sight of flashing lights—once a siren whooped, far off, causing the hairs on my neck to rise—he would engage in a dizzying number of turns and eventually follow the smallest, darkest road he could find. We zigzagged everywhere, vaguely northward. I wasn’t sure where we were headed. Coalhouse didn’t seem to have any idea either.
But then we came upon a field full of bonfires. At first I thought we might find help there—that maybe we were looking at some obscure small-town festival or agricultural setup. “What is that?” I asked.
As I formed the words the answer came to me.
It was the Changed.
They’d packed it in like Aberforth said they had, a long line of their vehicles parked along the side of an empty northern highway, all of them piled high with crates and luggage. They’d set up a temporary camp in a field bordering another set of train tracks, and on the far-off edges of it I could make out tiny shimmering points of light, like landed stars—houses, I figured. We must be in Honduras. Coalhouse must’ve taken a northern route around the eastern side of Allister’s preserve.
He sped up when the camp became visible, the carriage rattling off the shoulder. Fear spiked through me. “What are you doing? Did you drive up here on purpose?” My voice was higher, more panicked than I wanted it to be.
The dead boy didn’t answer right away. He pulled over to the side of the road and powered down the carriage, leaving us to sit in silence as well as darkness. “Not originally.”
The muzzled zombie said nothing, but his eyes gleamed with panic. Undoing my seat belt, I gripped Coalhouse’s arm. “Have you completely lost it? Oh my God, why would you drive us up here?”
“I didn’t set out to! But then …” He looked to the camp. “Laura. She wouldn’t come with me. We can at least save her. I will at least do that.”
“No,” I said, even as Coalhouse opened the door. “Right now we need to be on the other side of the planet from here!”
“Quiet,” Coalhouse said. He looked newly determined. And that worried me.
I wracked my brain for ways out of this latest mess. At least Papa would have an actual reason to ground me this time. “Before, you guys said Hagens wanted me. You’re putting me in danger, Coalhouse.”
“She doesn’t now. She wants Smoke. And you’re both going to stay right here. I’m going to go get Laura. Don’t let anyone see you.”
Without saying another word, Coalhouse shut his door and started off toward a gaily-colored carriage with something boxy strapped to its roof. It took me a second, but I soon realized it was part of the double-tiered stage we’d seen the night we visited as a group. Next to the carriage was a striped tent.
I watched him go, my heart pounding, my eyes hot. I knew what I had to do. I hated to leave him behind, Laura, anyone, but I might not get another chance. If he’d ingratiated himself with Hagens so successfully, he’d be safe here, at least for a time.
Sliding into the front seat, wincing in pain, I powered the carriage on and took a moment to look at the controls. This couldn’t be too difficult. Drive button, steering wheel, accelerator, and brake. That’s all I’d need. Right?
“Smoke,” I said, deciding to use his “real” name. “I’m going to drive us back to the city. I don’t know how to drive, so I need you to stay quiet and still, okay?”
“Yes,” he gurgled. “Don’t like it here. Want to be with people.”
“You and me both.” Taking a breath, I put my hands at two and ten and hit the button to take the carriage out of park. I reached up to adjust the rearview mirror, as Coalhouse was tall and I was a shrimp.
That’s when I saw lights heading for us. From the camp.
No.
My chest going numb, I tried to hit the accelerator. The carriage revved forward far more violently than I expected, causing me to slam on the brake in response with a gasp—a reaction that made me to momentarily question my own sanity.
My idiot reflexes gave the carriages gunning for us just enough time to box us in, fore and aft. I looked into the cab of the one in front of me and saw leering zombies. Guards, probably. I tried to accelerate again, twisting the steering wheel sharply to the left, but all I did was succeed in crashing into the carriage in front of me at a funny angle. One I couldn’t recover from without backing up.
I didn’t dare scream. I didn’t want Smoke to get riled. Our getaway had lasted about two minutes, though, and oh—how I wanted to scream.
The carriages emptied; our doors were opened. We were hauled onto the grass. As the zombies saw Smoke, made out his face by the glow from their headlights, a whoop of triumph went up.
And I was almost sick.
They took us to the striped tent. The only light came from a dented kerosene lantern, and there was nothing inside except two thick wooden support stakes and a few pallets of mismatched bedding.
And Hagens, Coalhouse, and Laura.
Laura was sitting at Hagens’s feet like a slave girl out of some dime novel. She saw us first and looked at us in amazement before staring up at Coalhouse. He was apparently attempting to talk Hagens into letting him take her elsewhere.
“They’re going to move him again,” he was saying. “But I’m not sure where. I think I could get more info out of them if a girl talked to them. Maybe Laura, here? Kinda weird, but this one living guard I know, I think he has a thing for dead girls …”
As he went on, Hagens lifted her head and saw us. Her eyes rounded almost cartoonishly. Laura shut her own.
“And I could …” Coalhouse finally noticed that neither woman was paying attention to him. He turned, and when he saw both of us, our arms pinioned by the guards, it looked like he wanted to die for real. I’m sure my expression had something to do with it.
“What have you done?” Laura whispered. “Oh God. You got both of them for her.”
“You did … or you didn’t.” Hagens still looked like a five-year-old who’d been given a pony for her birthday and wasn’t quite ready to accept that that thing was hers.
“Saw a carriage park on the road,” my handler said. “Went to go check it out. Look what we found inside?”
“Miss Dearly.” I nodded as invisibly as I could, and Laura turned on Coalhouse, asking again, “What have you done?”
“Nothing,” he argued, his voice weak. “I didn’t—”
“Shut up, Laura,” Hagens said brusquely. “Coalhouse—”
She didn’t finish. Laura rose to her feet and actually threw herself at Coalhouse, raining her fists on him, like I had before. “You’re lying again!” she screamed. “Bull! Bull that you would come back here and just happen to have those two follow you!”
“It wasn’t meant to be like this!” Coalhouse yelled, shoving her back.
That was Hagens’s cue. As I struggled against my captors she reached behind her waist and drew out a gun. Before Coalhouse could say another word, or even curl his hand into a fist, Hagens shot him. I screamed as he reeled back, one shoulder leading the way. She hadn’t gotten him in the head. A couple of the guards behind us tried to back her up, guns emerging and going off around me like fireworks. I ducked my head, trembling, sure I’d be shot again.
That’s when I felt Laura grab me.
The world became a blur of limbs and vines as she tried to pull me away, the sickening carnival colors of the tent whirling overhead. Before she could succeed in freeing me, one of the guards stepped forward and clobbered her in the head. She fell at my feet, and my breath stilled. I wasn’t sure if she was dead or not.
Hagens finally got Coalhouse to submit and put up his hands, her gun aimed at his skull. “I never would have thought it, but God—Coalhouse Gates. You will go down in the annals of zombie history. You’re a hero of legend.”
Coalhouse stared at her as if she’d ju
st damned him to Hell rather than complimented him. “No. This was a mistake. I need to take them back.”
“I wish you hadn’t said that.” Hagens looked almost disappointed. “It’s clear you’re confused. But that doesn’t make you any less of a hero.”
“All of this. Please … at least give me Nora. You don’t need her.”
“I don’t need her. But I’ll take her. She’ll make a fine insurance policy.”
For a moment everything came to a standstill. I had no idea what to do, what I wanted Coalhouse to do. He looked at me, his single eye pleading for something—I don’t know what.
“It was a mistake,” he whispered. “I swear … I’ll make it right.”
And then, injured and scared, he turned and ran off into the night, the entire tent shuddering with the force of his exit. It was so sudden that even the guards held still for a second before moving to pursue him.
“Coalhouse!” I yelled, slumping down in the strange zombie’s arms, surprised and devastated. Maybe he hadn’t meant to bring me here, but he was leaving me here.
“What was he talking about?” another guard demanded of Hagens.
“I don’t know, but tell the camp to get on him. Hunt him down.” Her voice was newly vengeful. “This entire thing’s been fishy from the beginning, but I’m not about to argue with results.”
“What do you want with me?” Being those “results,” I figured I’d better just come out with it. Better to know and face my fate than let ignorance drive me insane.
As if finally noticing me, Hagens approached, taking me in hand. She was horribly, painfully strong, her bony fingers digging into my flesh like barbed wire. Struggle as I might, I couldn’t get free. “Like you need to know?” I let off a string of ugly words, and she tightened her hold. Beside me, Smoke growled.
“Get some rope,” Hagens said to one of her lackeys. He rushed off, and she moved me so I could better see her face. “I just want you as my guest. That’s all.”
“Don’t get fancy on me. Just tell me what you want me for.”
“Because you can hurt so many people.” Her laughter crackled. “People who have hurt me. Griswold, the army—the living. Alive, you can keep a whole hell of a lot of people off my back. Dead, you can teach them why they never should have messed with me in the first place. Kidnapping you was a stupid idea, and I wasn’t even that serious about it, but now? I am very serious indeed.” The zombie reappeared with the rope. “Tie them up.” Looking down at the ground, at Laura, she said, “Her, too.”
“Hagens, if you—”
“Don’t even start, or I’ll kill you where you stand.” Hagens threw me at the zombie who held the rope, and despite my fighting him every inch of the way, he started to bind me. “Not tonight. Not when I’m finally in a good mood!”
The drive took a while, but the place was well marked. We started passing signs for the Maria Bosawas-Allister Memorial Animal Preserve and Gene Bank about ten miles out, and soon I encountered signs directing drivers farther on, toward Allister Genetics.
Michael said nothing for most of the trip, which was very smart of him. Especially after Salvez called to let me know that the police had lost Coalhouse. At that point I had to admit that the Changed was the best lead we had to go on. At the very least, we had to take care of them so we could concentrate fully on Nora. With Coalhouse gone, the authorities would soon start branching out.
And I prayed that he was not involved with the Changed. Although I was terrified for both of them, it was actually Coalhouse I was most worried about—because I knew my girl could handle herself.
“I’m going to get her,” I told Salvez before hanging up. “We’re almost there. Give me an idea of the lay of the land.”
Michael continued to watch me warily, hand curled around his nose, but offered, “The preserve is about three thousand square miles. But we shouldn’t have to go anywhere near it. The AG building is pretty straightforward.”
“Three thousand square miles of nothing but animals and plants?” I asked, amazed. “And your family owns it?”
“The Last Garden of Eden,” Michael said sarcastically, turning his attention to the window. “Dad always says it’s the last place in the Territories you can hide anything.”
“He have anything worth hiding?”
Michael sniffed messily. “Like I’d tell you anything about my family? You don’t deserve to know.”
“Fine. Just tell me what we’re doing.” I knew bickering—hell, even beating the kid up—wasn’t going to do any more good at this point. Time to grow up.
“There’s a lab on the eleventh floor. We can get on a comlink with him there.”
“And a comlink is different from a phone call how?”
“Trust me. It has to be done this way.”
“Fine. Then that’s where I take you hostage.”
“What?” Michael barked.
“Best way to get a rise out of your dad, I figure,” I said as I turned off onto another road, one marked for employees. “Besides, you think I’m just going to trail along after you and twiddle my thumbs while you talk to him, tell him some kind of sob story? Double-cross me while you’re at it? You’re a nasty little git. In fact, I want you visibly in the cross fire. I want to make sure these forces of yours don’t switch to live rounds once we get up there.”
Michael clenched his fists before yelling, “Why won’t you just die?”
“Believe me, I have asked myself that question many times since running into you again.”
Forcing his hands open, he took a moment to collect himself—he was doing that increasingly. “First guardhouse is coming up.” He turned to me. “You’re going to have to go in the trunk. They’ll let me through without question.”
“Little lord, I might be dead, but I’m not stupid.”
“It’s the only way. I’m serious!”
I took a deep, useless breath and gave him my full attention. “Okay. Explain.”
“There are guards. I’m not making this up. You think we can just walk into a facility full of equipment and experiments worth millions?” He pointed at himself. “I look like hell right now, but I’m his son. I’ve been working here, I have clearance. They’ll let me in. They will not let you pass without a fight.”
Suspicious as I was, I had to admit he was probably right. “If I do this, and you play me?”
“Let me guess: you’ll make me hurt? You need some new threats.” Michael straightened his jacket. “I want to get Miss Dearly back. You don’t trust me, I don’t trust you, but let’s try to trust that we both want the same thing right now.”
“Dandy.” I pulled the car over and unlocked the doors, removing my handgun from my holster. I didn’t want to do it but time was running short. “Let’s do this fast.”
Michael shifted over into the driver’s seat as I left. I moved to the back of the car, eyeing the trunk warily as it opened. It wasn’t just having to let Michael take the lead that made me uneasy—there was something about the idea of crawling into an enclosed, tiny space that added an extra aura of doom to the whole thing. But at least I could shoot my way out of my vehicular coffin should the need arise.
I climbed in and pulled the lid down. When everything was closed up, Michael took off. After about five minutes he slowed. As I stared at the lid of the car, I heard muffled voices, one of them belonging to someone other than Allister. A few seconds later we started moving again. This scene was repeated twice, and each time Allister got us through. Hopefully he’d told the truth, and this wasn’t some elaborate game.
When the car was finally shut off and the trunk popped, I sat up, my eyes adjusting. We were inside a largely empty parking garage, the few carriages within spaced out due to the lateness of the hour.
Allister got out of the car. “Guards said almost everyone’s gone home.”
“Good work,” I allowed as I hopped out.
“Thank you,” Michael said sarcastically before opening one of the rear doors, going
for a gun. “If we’re both going? I get a weapon, too.”
Stepping forward, I shut the door, narrowly missing his hands. “Like hell you do.”
He leaned closer. “I deserve to defend myself if you lose it. And if I get the chance? I’ll kill whoever has her!”
“Oh, you will?” I was starting to feel hot again, a biological impossibility, and a sign I needed to move. “Then walk so we can get there faster!”
It took him a few infuriating moments, but Michael finally gave up his gun gambit and started moving. I followed him, keeping my handgun out of sight. I didn’t know how many cameras might be watching, and I didn’t need any guards deciding to attack us prematurely.
At one point he crouched down and said, “Guard station ahead. I’ll walk, you sneak.”
Buying this, I followed suit. Michael straightened and slowly led the way to a far interior entrance, trying to keep behind cars and to the wall when he could for my benefit. In time we passed the guard station, the guards inside greeting Michael while remaining clueless about me, and made it to a metal door. The chip in Michael’s wrist got us inside. From there he took me to an elevator, where his chip allowed him to hit the button for the eleventh floor.
“We’re going to the main lab,” he said, sounding strangely at peace, as if he’d finally found a thread he could follow through the labyrinth of activity we were currently engaged in. He then slid his filthy fingers through his hair, before grabbing his own nose and cracking it to the side with a cry. Before I could react, I saw fresh blood dripping, smelled it, and realized what he’d done.
“Making yourself look worse?”
He chuckled snottily. “No, actually.”
“Then what?” Maybe I’d driven him insane. I was relieved to find that the idea actually troubled me.
“This is what will get hold of my dad.”
“What?”
“If I can get us through decontamination as we are and into the lab, the presence of blood and dead flesh will set off about a million alarms,” he explained. “It’s supposed to remain sterile. One of them will get Dad’s attention.”