Pocket Apocalypse
Page 43
“I’ll do you one better,” said Shelby. “I’ll also tell her that if you don’t make it home, Chandi gets her time anyway. I have the pull at the zoo to make it happen. Especially if I’m grieving.”
“Thank you,” I said, and turned back to Gabby, who was watching this exchange with a nonplussed expression on her face. “All right. Take me to the oubliette.”
“It’s not an oubliette,” she said. “There’s cable. Now march.”
I marched.
It was becoming more and more apparent that I didn’t know how large the Thirty-Six Society compound was, and just as apparent that they weren’t going to make it easy for me to learn. Gabby marched me down a pleasant brick path until it tapered out, becoming a somewhat less pleasant dirt path that wound through another patch of thickly packed eucalyptus trees. Something whistled high overhead, and was answered by Flora’s shrill, territorial shriek.
“Can I get a guide to the local birds?” I asked. “Since there’s a window and all, it might be interesting to learn which call belongs to which thing I’ve never seen before.”
“I’ll tell Mum,” said Gabby. “Please keep walking.”
“If Shelby can’t reach my contact, we’re going to need to figure something out about my medical care, you know.”
“We need to make sure it’s safe before we do anything. We’ve been quarantining people, but we haven’t been poking at them.” Again, she sounded apologetic, and again, that didn’t change anything. This was hard for her. I understood that. Anything that involved marching a visiting cryptozoologist to your secret isolation shed was going to be difficult. That didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult for me, too.
We stepped out of the trees and onto the calm green oasis of a lawn, dotted here and there with flowers I didn’t recognize. There was a small two-story house there, complete with tiny porch and even tinier chimney rising from the roof. The door was ajar, and someone was waiting for us just inside. I glanced back at Gabby, who shook her head and gestured me forward with her gun. Her finger was resting on the trigger, I noticed: she was more than prepared to shoot me if she felt that it was necessary. She hadn’t been keeping her finger on the trigger when Shelby was in eyesight.
“So I guess he’s with us,” I said, and kept walking.
The figure in the hall turned out to be another man I recognized from the previous night’s dinner. He was of apparently Filipino descent, with long black hair tied into a ponytail and a scruff of a goatee covering his chin. He was also holding a gun large enough to make Gabby’s look like a bad joke. I nodded to him. He frowned at me, his eyes focusing on my gauze-encrusted shoulder.
“Is this the one who was exposed?” he asked, looking back to Gabby for confirmation.
She nodded. “One bite. It’s been thoroughly cleaned out, but . . .”
“You and I both know that doesn’t mean anything,” he said, and turned back to me. “My name is Angelo Magdael. I will have the extreme pleasure of being your jailer for the next twenty-eight days. If you have any weapons on you, please surrender them now.”
I’d been waiting for this, which meant I’d had plenty of time to consider my reply. “No,” I said, as politely as I could manage under the circumstances. “I appreciate your reasons for asking, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to refuse.”
Angelo blinked. So did Gabby. Gabby—possibly because she had grown up with two sisters arguing with her over everything under the sun—recovered first, demanding, “Why not? I’m holding a gun, you know.”
“Yes, and so is he, and neither of you has a proper grip,” I said. “You shouldn’t keep your finger on the trigger while you walk, either. I understand the necessity of keeping control of the situation, but I’m not going to run, and even if I’ve been infected, I won’t be able to infect anyone else for twenty-eight days. We have a window. As for why I won’t give you my weapons, I’m a Price. We never give away our weapons.”
“Gun,” repeated Gabby, like it made all the difference in the world.
“Two guns,” I countered. “Also several knives, a garrote, one of my grandfather’s poison rings, and the technique for making werewolf antiserum, which I have memorized and have yet to pass on to any members of your organization. For the moment, you need me. You’re not going to shoot me until the need has passed. Now, I’ve come along with you willingly. I’m letting you put me in quarantine, although I’m going to have a serious talk with your father later about how long I’m willing to stay there. You’re not getting my weapons. That’s where I have to draw the line. Besides, if I’m infected, I reserve the right to fix the problem myself.”
Angelo and Gabby exchanged a look that I recognized in concept, if not in its exact details. They’d clearly been working with each other for a long time; they’d just as clearly been expecting me to behave according to their script. To be fair, they had probably used that script on all the other people currently in quarantine, and it had no doubt worked every time. Unfortunately for them, those people were members of the Thirty-Six Society. They had a sense of duty to their fellow society members, and to the country of Australia, which would be better off without a bunch of heavily armed werewolves running around the place.
My sense of duty was to myself, and to Shelby, and to the idea that I was going to find a way to beat this: a way to go home human. And if that couldn’t happen, I needed to be the one who decided when the battle was over. Allowing these people to disarm me, no matter how good their intentions were, was not the way to get what I needed.
“Mr. Price—” began Angelo.
“I don’t think you should waste your time, or mine, with this argument,” I said wearily. “Please. I just want to get to whatever room you’re planning to keep me in, and take a nice hot bath while I wait for Shelby to show up with a physician who can take care of my wounds without having a panic attack. I don’t want to stand here and fight with you. You won’t win. We’ll all lose.”
“This is very irregular,” said Angelo. He gave me a reproving look. “You’re going to get us into trouble.”
“Just tell Riley I was the one who wouldn’t cooperate. I bet you he’ll have no difficulty believing it.” I paused as something occurred to me. Looking to Gabby, I said, “Do you think you could do me a favor?”
“Thank you,” I said, and turned back to Gabby, who was watching this exchange with a nonplussed expression on her face. “All right. Take me to the oubliette.”
“It’s not an oubliette,” she said. “There’s cable. Now march.”
I marched.
It was becoming more and more apparent that I didn’t know how large the Thirty-Six Society compound was, and just as apparent that they weren’t going to make it easy for me to learn. Gabby marched me down a pleasant brick path until it tapered out, becoming a somewhat less pleasant dirt path that wound through another patch of thickly packed eucalyptus trees. Something whistled high overhead, and was answered by Flora’s shrill, territorial shriek.
“Can I get a guide to the local birds?” I asked. “Since there’s a window and all, it might be interesting to learn which call belongs to which thing I’ve never seen before.”
“I’ll tell Mum,” said Gabby. “Please keep walking.”
“If Shelby can’t reach my contact, we’re going to need to figure something out about my medical care, you know.”
“We need to make sure it’s safe before we do anything. We’ve been quarantining people, but we haven’t been poking at them.” Again, she sounded apologetic, and again, that didn’t change anything. This was hard for her. I understood that. Anything that involved marching a visiting cryptozoologist to your secret isolation shed was going to be difficult. That didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult for me, too.
We stepped out of the trees and onto the calm green oasis of a lawn, dotted here and there with flowers I didn’t recognize. There was a small two-story house there, complete with tiny porch and even tinier chimney rising from the roof. The door was ajar, and someone was waiting for us just inside. I glanced back at Gabby, who shook her head and gestured me forward with her gun. Her finger was resting on the trigger, I noticed: she was more than prepared to shoot me if she felt that it was necessary. She hadn’t been keeping her finger on the trigger when Shelby was in eyesight.
“So I guess he’s with us,” I said, and kept walking.
The figure in the hall turned out to be another man I recognized from the previous night’s dinner. He was of apparently Filipino descent, with long black hair tied into a ponytail and a scruff of a goatee covering his chin. He was also holding a gun large enough to make Gabby’s look like a bad joke. I nodded to him. He frowned at me, his eyes focusing on my gauze-encrusted shoulder.
“Is this the one who was exposed?” he asked, looking back to Gabby for confirmation.
She nodded. “One bite. It’s been thoroughly cleaned out, but . . .”
“You and I both know that doesn’t mean anything,” he said, and turned back to me. “My name is Angelo Magdael. I will have the extreme pleasure of being your jailer for the next twenty-eight days. If you have any weapons on you, please surrender them now.”
I’d been waiting for this, which meant I’d had plenty of time to consider my reply. “No,” I said, as politely as I could manage under the circumstances. “I appreciate your reasons for asking, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to refuse.”
Angelo blinked. So did Gabby. Gabby—possibly because she had grown up with two sisters arguing with her over everything under the sun—recovered first, demanding, “Why not? I’m holding a gun, you know.”
“Yes, and so is he, and neither of you has a proper grip,” I said. “You shouldn’t keep your finger on the trigger while you walk, either. I understand the necessity of keeping control of the situation, but I’m not going to run, and even if I’ve been infected, I won’t be able to infect anyone else for twenty-eight days. We have a window. As for why I won’t give you my weapons, I’m a Price. We never give away our weapons.”
“Gun,” repeated Gabby, like it made all the difference in the world.
“Two guns,” I countered. “Also several knives, a garrote, one of my grandfather’s poison rings, and the technique for making werewolf antiserum, which I have memorized and have yet to pass on to any members of your organization. For the moment, you need me. You’re not going to shoot me until the need has passed. Now, I’ve come along with you willingly. I’m letting you put me in quarantine, although I’m going to have a serious talk with your father later about how long I’m willing to stay there. You’re not getting my weapons. That’s where I have to draw the line. Besides, if I’m infected, I reserve the right to fix the problem myself.”
Angelo and Gabby exchanged a look that I recognized in concept, if not in its exact details. They’d clearly been working with each other for a long time; they’d just as clearly been expecting me to behave according to their script. To be fair, they had probably used that script on all the other people currently in quarantine, and it had no doubt worked every time. Unfortunately for them, those people were members of the Thirty-Six Society. They had a sense of duty to their fellow society members, and to the country of Australia, which would be better off without a bunch of heavily armed werewolves running around the place.
My sense of duty was to myself, and to Shelby, and to the idea that I was going to find a way to beat this: a way to go home human. And if that couldn’t happen, I needed to be the one who decided when the battle was over. Allowing these people to disarm me, no matter how good their intentions were, was not the way to get what I needed.
“Mr. Price—” began Angelo.
“I don’t think you should waste your time, or mine, with this argument,” I said wearily. “Please. I just want to get to whatever room you’re planning to keep me in, and take a nice hot bath while I wait for Shelby to show up with a physician who can take care of my wounds without having a panic attack. I don’t want to stand here and fight with you. You won’t win. We’ll all lose.”
“This is very irregular,” said Angelo. He gave me a reproving look. “You’re going to get us into trouble.”
“Just tell Riley I was the one who wouldn’t cooperate. I bet you he’ll have no difficulty believing it.” I paused as something occurred to me. Looking to Gabby, I said, “Do you think you could do me a favor?”
