Pocket Apocalypse
Page 83
“I know,” I said. “But she wasn’t bitten long enough ago to have turned; the treatment I brought with me should still work for her.”
“What if it doesn’t work?” asked Raina. “Are you going to shoot our sister?”
“No.” I hadn’t been certain—not really—of what my answer would be until I heard it spoken aloud by my own voice. It was a relief. “We know from dealing with Cooper that werewolves are capable of controlling themselves when transformed. If Gabby is going to turn, we can find ways to manage it. It will mean a certain amount of compromise, and locking her up on full moon nights, to avoid her accidentally infecting anyone else, but it can work.”
Gabby pulled her face away from Raina’s shoulder, looking up at me with large, liquid eyes. “But . . . opera school,” she said weakly. “I was going to sing Carmen.”
I winced, doing my best to hide it. “We’ll find a way,” I said.
“I may have one,” said Basil. All four of us turned to look at him. He focused on Gabby. “Do you trust me?” he asked.
“Don’t quote Doctor Who at me,” said Gabby, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Of course I trust you, Basil. You’re our Basil.”
“All right.” Basil looked first to Shelby and Raina, and then to me. “There’s a wagyl near here. Its bite can cure just about anything. I’d wager lycanthropy is on that list. But you have to let me take her, and you have to promise you won’t try to follow.”
Given the situation we’d fled when we ran after Gabby, we were needed back at the Thirty-Six Society. We didn’t know how many werewolves Cooper had created, or how they were going to react to the fact that the Aeslin could quite literally sniff them out. Charlotte needed backup. And yet . . . “Is this wagyl something that could come back here? Gabby isn’t the only one who’s been exposed.”
“Asking a wagyl for a favor is a big deal,” said Basil. “Getting it to bite one person is going to be hard enough, but I’m willing to negotiate because it’s Gabby, and she’s as good as family to me. I’m not even going to ask about anyone else until she’s bitten and it can’t be taken back.”
“Is there any risk to her?” asked Shelby. “Wagyl may be awesome healers or whatever, but they’re still ripping big snakes. I don’t want my sister getting hurt.”
“Your sister’s already been hurt,” said Basil.
“I’ll do it,” said Gabby. She stood up, the boat rocking beneath her, and took a step toward Basil, raising her arms like a much smaller person, like she expected him to sweep her up and carry her, piggyback, into the trees. Maybe that was exactly what she did expect. She’d been smaller when they first met, after all. “I don’t care about risks, and I don’t care if it could hurt me. I want to finish opera school. I want to see the world. I want to have children someday. I can’t do any of those things if I’m stuck here, being a werewolf.”
“Gabby . . .” said Shelby.
“It’s my choice.” Gabby turned to her sister, sticking her chin out in what was apparently a hallmark of the Tanner sisters when they were deciding to be remarkably stubborn about something. “I don’t have any better options. Alex’s ‘cure’ isn’t guaranteed to work for me, and I refuse to be a pet monster for the Society. I’m not the new Tasmanian wolf.”
“Can I go with you?” asked Raina, before looking up to Basil. “Can I?”
He shook his head. “No, dear, you can’t. It’s not because I’m punishing you, either: I’d take you if I didn’t think it would make it even less likely the wagyl would help her. They don’t like humans much, as a rule. Too many dead, and their memories are long.”
Raina nodded, crestfallen. “That’s what I was afraid you’d say.”
Shelby opened her mouth, like she was going to object again. Then she stopped, mouth snapping closed, and nodded. “All right,” she said. “Go with Basil. He’ll keep you safe. He’ll make sure no harm comes to you, unless it’s unavoidable. And if harm does come to you, Raina and I will both make sure it’s understood that this was your choice: no one forced you, no one coerced you, and no one told you that you had to go.”
“Thank you,” said Gabby, smiling through her tears. She flung her arms quickly and wildly around her sisters, managing to catch all of Raina and half of Shelby’s torso. Then she let them go and stepped up onto the side of the boat, holding her arms out for Basil once more. He picked her up like she was a toy and set her on his shoulder, where she fit, not well, but compactly, putting one arm around his head to keep her balance.
“Down you go,” he said, reaching for me once his hands were free. I barely had time to stuff my gun back into my waistband before he was grasping me around the waist and lifting me down to the boat, which settled and rocked under my weight. Then Shelby was there to steady me, and Jett, tail still wagging, was cramming her nose into my crotch, examining all the new smells I had accumulated since she last checked me over.
“When will we know?” asked Shelby, her eyes remaining on Basil and Gabby.
He mustered a small smile. It looked like it hurt him, and I realized then that whatever a wagyl was, it wasn’t a magic bulplet: there were no guarantees, and Raina and Shelby were allowing their sister to be carried away, without backup, to what might be her certain death. “It should take a few hours to get to the right spot, and a few hours more to negotiate a bite. It’ll take about eight hours for the venom to clear her system. One way or the other.”
“You don’t have to do this,” said Raina. Her eyes were fixed on her sister, and the look of bleak despair on her face made me revise every thought I’d ever had about Shelby’s occasional expression of funereal gloom: this was what it really looked like when a Tanner girl’s heart was breaking. “We can find another way. A less dangerous one.”
“I won’t live in a cage,” said Gabby. She sat up straighter on Basil’s shoulder, and the moonlight slanting through the trees made a halo of her pale hair, making her look like some sort of fairy-tale heroine getting ready to embark on her big quest. Gabby and the Werewolves wasn’t likely to be coming from Disney any time soon, but maybe it should have been. “I love you, and I wish I didn’t have to risk this, but I won’t live in a cage. Not for you, not for anybody. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“What if it doesn’t work?” asked Raina. “Are you going to shoot our sister?”
“No.” I hadn’t been certain—not really—of what my answer would be until I heard it spoken aloud by my own voice. It was a relief. “We know from dealing with Cooper that werewolves are capable of controlling themselves when transformed. If Gabby is going to turn, we can find ways to manage it. It will mean a certain amount of compromise, and locking her up on full moon nights, to avoid her accidentally infecting anyone else, but it can work.”
Gabby pulled her face away from Raina’s shoulder, looking up at me with large, liquid eyes. “But . . . opera school,” she said weakly. “I was going to sing Carmen.”
I winced, doing my best to hide it. “We’ll find a way,” I said.
“I may have one,” said Basil. All four of us turned to look at him. He focused on Gabby. “Do you trust me?” he asked.
“Don’t quote Doctor Who at me,” said Gabby, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Of course I trust you, Basil. You’re our Basil.”
“All right.” Basil looked first to Shelby and Raina, and then to me. “There’s a wagyl near here. Its bite can cure just about anything. I’d wager lycanthropy is on that list. But you have to let me take her, and you have to promise you won’t try to follow.”
Given the situation we’d fled when we ran after Gabby, we were needed back at the Thirty-Six Society. We didn’t know how many werewolves Cooper had created, or how they were going to react to the fact that the Aeslin could quite literally sniff them out. Charlotte needed backup. And yet . . . “Is this wagyl something that could come back here? Gabby isn’t the only one who’s been exposed.”
“Asking a wagyl for a favor is a big deal,” said Basil. “Getting it to bite one person is going to be hard enough, but I’m willing to negotiate because it’s Gabby, and she’s as good as family to me. I’m not even going to ask about anyone else until she’s bitten and it can’t be taken back.”
“Is there any risk to her?” asked Shelby. “Wagyl may be awesome healers or whatever, but they’re still ripping big snakes. I don’t want my sister getting hurt.”
“Your sister’s already been hurt,” said Basil.
“I’ll do it,” said Gabby. She stood up, the boat rocking beneath her, and took a step toward Basil, raising her arms like a much smaller person, like she expected him to sweep her up and carry her, piggyback, into the trees. Maybe that was exactly what she did expect. She’d been smaller when they first met, after all. “I don’t care about risks, and I don’t care if it could hurt me. I want to finish opera school. I want to see the world. I want to have children someday. I can’t do any of those things if I’m stuck here, being a werewolf.”
“Gabby . . .” said Shelby.
“It’s my choice.” Gabby turned to her sister, sticking her chin out in what was apparently a hallmark of the Tanner sisters when they were deciding to be remarkably stubborn about something. “I don’t have any better options. Alex’s ‘cure’ isn’t guaranteed to work for me, and I refuse to be a pet monster for the Society. I’m not the new Tasmanian wolf.”
“Can I go with you?” asked Raina, before looking up to Basil. “Can I?”
He shook his head. “No, dear, you can’t. It’s not because I’m punishing you, either: I’d take you if I didn’t think it would make it even less likely the wagyl would help her. They don’t like humans much, as a rule. Too many dead, and their memories are long.”
Raina nodded, crestfallen. “That’s what I was afraid you’d say.”
Shelby opened her mouth, like she was going to object again. Then she stopped, mouth snapping closed, and nodded. “All right,” she said. “Go with Basil. He’ll keep you safe. He’ll make sure no harm comes to you, unless it’s unavoidable. And if harm does come to you, Raina and I will both make sure it’s understood that this was your choice: no one forced you, no one coerced you, and no one told you that you had to go.”
“Thank you,” said Gabby, smiling through her tears. She flung her arms quickly and wildly around her sisters, managing to catch all of Raina and half of Shelby’s torso. Then she let them go and stepped up onto the side of the boat, holding her arms out for Basil once more. He picked her up like she was a toy and set her on his shoulder, where she fit, not well, but compactly, putting one arm around his head to keep her balance.
“Down you go,” he said, reaching for me once his hands were free. I barely had time to stuff my gun back into my waistband before he was grasping me around the waist and lifting me down to the boat, which settled and rocked under my weight. Then Shelby was there to steady me, and Jett, tail still wagging, was cramming her nose into my crotch, examining all the new smells I had accumulated since she last checked me over.
“When will we know?” asked Shelby, her eyes remaining on Basil and Gabby.
He mustered a small smile. It looked like it hurt him, and I realized then that whatever a wagyl was, it wasn’t a magic bulplet: there were no guarantees, and Raina and Shelby were allowing their sister to be carried away, without backup, to what might be her certain death. “It should take a few hours to get to the right spot, and a few hours more to negotiate a bite. It’ll take about eight hours for the venom to clear her system. One way or the other.”
“You don’t have to do this,” said Raina. Her eyes were fixed on her sister, and the look of bleak despair on her face made me revise every thought I’d ever had about Shelby’s occasional expression of funereal gloom: this was what it really looked like when a Tanner girl’s heart was breaking. “We can find another way. A less dangerous one.”
“I won’t live in a cage,” said Gabby. She sat up straighter on Basil’s shoulder, and the moonlight slanting through the trees made a halo of her pale hair, making her look like some sort of fairy-tale heroine getting ready to embark on her big quest. Gabby and the Werewolves wasn’t likely to be coming from Disney any time soon, but maybe it should have been. “I love you, and I wish I didn’t have to risk this, but I won’t live in a cage. Not for you, not for anybody. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
