Pocket Apocalypse
Page 42
“Dad doesn’t trust you,” said Gabby.
“Gabby!” said Charlotte.
“What? It’s true, Mum, he doesn’t. Shelly came home with a boy who was half Covenant and half the monsters that killed Jack, of course Dad doesn’t trust him. He might as well have been completely covered in little mustaches he could twirl. So that’s why, Alex.” From the way her voice shifted, Gabby had twisted to look at me. I kept my eyes closed. “He didn’t want you mixing up chemicals in the house when there was a chance you were up to no good. Then Cooper went and got killed, and you didn’t, and now I don’t think he knows what to think about you. Might be an improvement, really, as long as you don’t turn into a werewolf.”
“I’m going to hold you underwater in the next billabong we find,” said Shelby, a low, dangerous note in her voice. “I’m going to hold you underwater until the kicking stops.”
“You can give it a try,” said Gabby. “I’ll let you.”
“It’s all right, Shelby,” I said, allowing myself a hint of a smile. “At least she’s being honest.” Honesty was the best policy. It was what I planned to use with the mice. They needed to know what had happened to me, so that they’d be able to explain it to my parents if they had to go home without me.
My parents. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I knew what I was going to say to my parents. If I called and told them I’d been bitten, there was every chance they’d be on the next plane to Australia, and it wasn’t like they could do anything to help me fight off the infection. Nothing could do that. If they came here, they’d be putting themselves into the line of fire, and they would make it harder for me to do what I might need to do. Could they stand by and watch while I put a gun against my head?
No. They couldn’t, and they wouldn’t. No matter how often they had said that our jobs—our lives—could be deadly, they wouldn’t be able to accept that my infection meant that I was genuinely lost to them. “I can’t tell them,” I said.
Shelby sighed. The sound was soft and still in the enclosed van, filled with a deep and unquestioning sadness. “I know you can’t,” she said.
“What’s that?” asked Charlotte.
“Alex can’t call his parents,” Shelby said. “They’d want to come here, and that wouldn’t work out well for anybody.”
“You got all that from ‘I can’t tell them’?” asked Gabby.
“I’ve been spending a lot of time with his family lately,” said Shelby. “I’m starting to figure out how they think.”
“That’s what worries me,” said Charlotte.
The van rattled down the back roads between the medical station and the safe house at what felt like unsafe speeds, especially given my current position in the back, surrounded by unsecured animal rescue supplies. I kept my eyes closed for the rest of the drive, trying to think about anything other than the aching throb in my shoulder, and the tiny psychosomatic fire ants scurrying in my blood. You can’t feel lycanthropy taking hold, any more than you can feel rabies, but in that moment, I would have sworn I could trace the path of the infection as it radiated out from my shoulder and sought new homes in the tissue of my nervous system, spinal cord, and worst of all, brain.
I was sunk in my own depressed contemplation when the van finally jerked to a halt. One of the front doors slammed almost before we had stopped moving, and then the back of the van was flung open, sending light flooding into the previously dark space. Even through my closed eyelids, it was enough to make me shy away and raise an arm to shade my face—and then, because the mammalian state comes with some weird instinctual responses, I cracked my eyes open enough to see what was going on.
Gabby was standing in front of the open van doors with a gun in her hands, the muzzle trained on me. Her stance wasn’t as good as it could have been; her feet were too close together, and the placement of her hands wasn’t giving her any defense against the recoil. She’d be lucky if she didn’t break a wrist if she had to fire. Of course, at her current range, I’d be lucky if she didn’t put a bullet through my heart and solve the whole “I can’t tell my parents I’ve been bitten by a werewolf” problem sooner rather than later.
“Please undo your belt and come with me,” she said, before adding, “Sorry about this, Alex. It’s basic quarantine procedure.”
“I know about quarantine,” I said, keeping my movements slow as I slid to my feet. The van was almost tall enough for me to straighten up inside. Only half-stooped, I walked toward the exit. Shelby remained behind me, not saying a word either to defend me or to support her sister. She’d been put into an awkward position, and I felt bad for her—or as bad for her as I could muster, given my own situation.
“It’s a nice room,” said Gabby. “You barely notice the bars on the windows.”
“Lovely,” I said. “Look, I’m going to need someone with me when I take the antiserum. It can cause heart failure and convulsions.”
Gabby looked alarmed. “Well, none of us is going to do it. Not if we can’t know for sure that you’re not contagious.”
I decided against trying to explain the difference between “contagious” and “infectious.” Besides, I wasn’t either. “I won’t be able to pass the virus for twenty-eight days.”
“We only have your word for that! We can’t risk it.”
Shelby would do it. Happily. And it would just cause more problems with her family, which was the last thing I wanted to do right now. I swallowed the urge to sigh. “Fine. Is there a local gorgon or wadjet community you can call? Maybe they can send a doctor.”
“There aren’t any gorgons in Australia,” said Gabby, looking at me blankly. “I don’t even know what a whatsit is.”
I was going to die because the locals had shrugged off their Covenant influences enough to protect things that didn’t look human, but not enough to work with things that did. “Hang on,” I said. I twisted to look over my shoulder at Shelby. “Get my phone. Find the number for the Sarpas. Call Kumari, and tell her what’s going on. Tell her I need a nonmammalian doctor within the next two hours, and tell her . . .” I took a deep breath. “Tell her I’ll guarantee Chandi access to her fiancé every day for a month after I get home, if she does this for me.”
“Gabby!” said Charlotte.
“What? It’s true, Mum, he doesn’t. Shelly came home with a boy who was half Covenant and half the monsters that killed Jack, of course Dad doesn’t trust him. He might as well have been completely covered in little mustaches he could twirl. So that’s why, Alex.” From the way her voice shifted, Gabby had twisted to look at me. I kept my eyes closed. “He didn’t want you mixing up chemicals in the house when there was a chance you were up to no good. Then Cooper went and got killed, and you didn’t, and now I don’t think he knows what to think about you. Might be an improvement, really, as long as you don’t turn into a werewolf.”
“I’m going to hold you underwater in the next billabong we find,” said Shelby, a low, dangerous note in her voice. “I’m going to hold you underwater until the kicking stops.”
“You can give it a try,” said Gabby. “I’ll let you.”
“It’s all right, Shelby,” I said, allowing myself a hint of a smile. “At least she’s being honest.” Honesty was the best policy. It was what I planned to use with the mice. They needed to know what had happened to me, so that they’d be able to explain it to my parents if they had to go home without me.
My parents. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I knew what I was going to say to my parents. If I called and told them I’d been bitten, there was every chance they’d be on the next plane to Australia, and it wasn’t like they could do anything to help me fight off the infection. Nothing could do that. If they came here, they’d be putting themselves into the line of fire, and they would make it harder for me to do what I might need to do. Could they stand by and watch while I put a gun against my head?
No. They couldn’t, and they wouldn’t. No matter how often they had said that our jobs—our lives—could be deadly, they wouldn’t be able to accept that my infection meant that I was genuinely lost to them. “I can’t tell them,” I said.
Shelby sighed. The sound was soft and still in the enclosed van, filled with a deep and unquestioning sadness. “I know you can’t,” she said.
“What’s that?” asked Charlotte.
“Alex can’t call his parents,” Shelby said. “They’d want to come here, and that wouldn’t work out well for anybody.”
“You got all that from ‘I can’t tell them’?” asked Gabby.
“I’ve been spending a lot of time with his family lately,” said Shelby. “I’m starting to figure out how they think.”
“That’s what worries me,” said Charlotte.
The van rattled down the back roads between the medical station and the safe house at what felt like unsafe speeds, especially given my current position in the back, surrounded by unsecured animal rescue supplies. I kept my eyes closed for the rest of the drive, trying to think about anything other than the aching throb in my shoulder, and the tiny psychosomatic fire ants scurrying in my blood. You can’t feel lycanthropy taking hold, any more than you can feel rabies, but in that moment, I would have sworn I could trace the path of the infection as it radiated out from my shoulder and sought new homes in the tissue of my nervous system, spinal cord, and worst of all, brain.
I was sunk in my own depressed contemplation when the van finally jerked to a halt. One of the front doors slammed almost before we had stopped moving, and then the back of the van was flung open, sending light flooding into the previously dark space. Even through my closed eyelids, it was enough to make me shy away and raise an arm to shade my face—and then, because the mammalian state comes with some weird instinctual responses, I cracked my eyes open enough to see what was going on.
Gabby was standing in front of the open van doors with a gun in her hands, the muzzle trained on me. Her stance wasn’t as good as it could have been; her feet were too close together, and the placement of her hands wasn’t giving her any defense against the recoil. She’d be lucky if she didn’t break a wrist if she had to fire. Of course, at her current range, I’d be lucky if she didn’t put a bullet through my heart and solve the whole “I can’t tell my parents I’ve been bitten by a werewolf” problem sooner rather than later.
“Please undo your belt and come with me,” she said, before adding, “Sorry about this, Alex. It’s basic quarantine procedure.”
“I know about quarantine,” I said, keeping my movements slow as I slid to my feet. The van was almost tall enough for me to straighten up inside. Only half-stooped, I walked toward the exit. Shelby remained behind me, not saying a word either to defend me or to support her sister. She’d been put into an awkward position, and I felt bad for her—or as bad for her as I could muster, given my own situation.
“It’s a nice room,” said Gabby. “You barely notice the bars on the windows.”
“Lovely,” I said. “Look, I’m going to need someone with me when I take the antiserum. It can cause heart failure and convulsions.”
Gabby looked alarmed. “Well, none of us is going to do it. Not if we can’t know for sure that you’re not contagious.”
I decided against trying to explain the difference between “contagious” and “infectious.” Besides, I wasn’t either. “I won’t be able to pass the virus for twenty-eight days.”
“We only have your word for that! We can’t risk it.”
Shelby would do it. Happily. And it would just cause more problems with her family, which was the last thing I wanted to do right now. I swallowed the urge to sigh. “Fine. Is there a local gorgon or wadjet community you can call? Maybe they can send a doctor.”
“There aren’t any gorgons in Australia,” said Gabby, looking at me blankly. “I don’t even know what a whatsit is.”
I was going to die because the locals had shrugged off their Covenant influences enough to protect things that didn’t look human, but not enough to work with things that did. “Hang on,” I said. I twisted to look over my shoulder at Shelby. “Get my phone. Find the number for the Sarpas. Call Kumari, and tell her what’s going on. Tell her I need a nonmammalian doctor within the next two hours, and tell her . . .” I took a deep breath. “Tell her I’ll guarantee Chandi access to her fiancé every day for a month after I get home, if she does this for me.”
