Authors: Kathy Reichs
Exposure (48 page)
We all scurried in, closing the door behind us. Hi shut the blinds.
The office was enormous, with floor-to-ceiling windows composing the two outer walls. Bookshelves and file cabinets lined a third. Near the door, a black couch and chair combination surrounded a glass coffee table. Farther in, a polished wooden desk held a single LCD monitor.
“Get to work,” I whispered to Shelton. “Chance could be here any second.”
Shelton moved to the computer and inserted his flash drive. “Excellent. He’s already logged in, and the putz didn’t password protect his screen saver.”
As Shelton began tapping keys, Ben, Hi, and I moved behind him to watch the monitor.
I couldn’t follow the commands, but he navigated the system with ease.
“They’re using Windows Eight, so I’m familiar with the OS. And this computer is accepting my flash drive as native. And look here.” Shelton tapped the screen. “Under the heading ‘Special Project—PX.’
Voilà.
”
A folder labeled “B-Series.”
My pulse quickened. “Can you access the files now?”
Shelton clicked. The folder opened, revealing at least two hundred subfiles.
I chewed my lip, scanning the list. “Try . . . that one.”
My finger speared a PDF entitled “Brimstone—Project Goals and Parameters.”
Shelton opened the file. A two-page document filled the screen.
The header proclaimed:
CONFIDENTIAL AND PROPRIETARY.
THE INFORMATION AND OPINIONS CONTAINED IN
THIS REPORT ARE THE EXCLUSIVE INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY OF CANDELA PHARMACEUTICALS, INCORPORATED. VIOLATORS WILL BE PROSECUTED
TO THE FULLEST EXTENT OF THE LAW.
“Whatever.” I began reading the document.
By the time I’d finished, my knees were shaking.
“Oh my God.” Shelton covered his mouth.
Ben kicked the base of the desk. “That idiot!”
Hi was wide-eyed. “Man, this is as bad as it gets.”
I didn’t speak. Couldn’t tear my eyes from the awful report.
My mind raced, trying to assess the implications.
Finally, I had to say the words out loud. Didn’t want to believe them.
“Chance ordered new tests for Parvovirus XPB-19. He’s resurrecting Karsten’s experiment, but on a larger scale.”
“Moron!” Hi shot both hands through his hair. “He doesn’t understand the consequences!”
Suddenly, the door swung inward.
Chance stepped inside, holding a sheaf of papers.
His sleeves were rolled up, his tie loosened. Chance’s pricey Italian shirt was stained and wrinkled. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.
Chance paused in the doorway, taking in the four of us crouched behind his desk.
We stared, unable to muster a defense. The jig was up.
Caught red-handed. We’re toast now.
Then Chance did the last thing I expected.
“Good.” Wearily, he closed the door behind him. “You’re all here. Saves me the trouble of having to find you.”
Tossing the papers onto his coffee table, Chance collapsed on the couch. He rubbed bloodshot eyes with his palms.
We stood in a clump. Frozen. Clueless what to do.
“You might as well sit.” Chance gestured lamely. “It’s not like I didn’t know you were here. Security alerted me the minute you walked in. They’ve had your descriptions for months. I hear you spoke to Delores in Accounts Receivable. Next time, be polite and share the elevator.”
Dumbfounded, I did the only thing possible.
Slowly, expecting a trap, I walked over to the chairs. The boys trailed behind me.
I sat. So did Hi. Shelton and Ben remained standing behind us.
Chance hadn’t moved, remained slumped on the couch like a dead man.
Then abruptly, he straightened. Tension filled his frame.
His gaze roved the group. “I guessed right about you four, didn’t I?”
No one answered.
Chance spoke without emotion, as if discussing poetry at a Starbucks. “What happened when you caught the supervirus? Were the effects solely physical? Or did it change the way you think as well?”
“Let’s get out of here, Tory,” Ben urged. “Now.”
“I know everything, Benjamin.” Chance spoke simply, without threat or rancor. “I have Karsten’s old files. I’ve determined that Coop was the sole carrier. And I have no doubt you were infected. I’ve seen what this bug can do.”
“Yes.”
All eyes on me.
“Yes,” I repeated, looking directly at Chance. “We caught the supervirus. And, yes, it has had . . . effects on us. We call ourselves Virals now.”
Shelton gasped. Hiram’s eyes nearly shot from his head.
Ben shifted uncomfortably, his knuckles whitening on the sides of my chair.
“We have to bargain.” I spoke to my friends, never shifting my gaze from Chance. “The B-Series is too dangerous to ignore. And Chance knows too much already.”
Chance nodded slightly, but didn’t speak.
I leaned forward. “What do you want from us, Claybourne? Why are you pursuing this so hard? Why revisit illegal experiments with a canine virus?”
Chance inhaled deeply. A single tear leaked from his eye.
“I knew I wasn’t crazy,” he whispered.
I sat back, some of my anger evaporating. “Is that what this was about?”
Chance glared from across the table. “Try questioning
your
sanity for a while. See how much you like it.”
Fair enough.
“But you
can’t
continue these tests.” My voice grew pleading. “This experiment you ordered—Brimstone—you have no idea what you’re getting into. Trust me on this. You have to kill the project.”
Chance looked out the window. For a long moment, he didn’t reply.
Finally, “Too late for that.”
My tone sharpened. “What do you mean?”
Chance continued as if he hadn’t heard. “These changes you spoke of. You’re talking about special powers. Extraordinary gifts, right? I know. I was there. I saw what you can do. It’s amazing.”
“Those
gifts
might be killing us,” I shot back. “We barely control them. This isn’t a game, Chance. The supervirus won’t transform you into some kind of real-life Green Lantern. You’re playing with fire. You might be toying with a new plague.”
His voice changed. “You’re saying the virus could be dangerous? Deadly?”
“That’s
exactly
what we’re saying,” Hi said. “How are you still not getting it?”
“You don’t want any part of this, Chance.” Shelton’s face was granite. “No lie.”
“Stop what you’re doing,” Ben warned. “Now.”
Chance ran a hand across his mouth. It trembled.
“What are you so worried about?” I caught his eye and held it. “What’s happened?”
Chance met my gaze for a beat. I saw real pain. Guilt? Fear?
He jerked his head away, once more staring out the window.
“It turns out, you guys are right.” Chance barked a hollow laugh. “I shouldn’t have ordered those experiments. I started Brimstone months ago, before I appreciated the danger.”
Icy fingers ran down my spine. “Chance, what did you do?”
He stood, then studied each of us in turn. “You think this virus may be killing you?”
“It’s possible. We don’t know anything about it, really.”
I wasn’t sure where this was going.
Chance nodded, as if he’d made a decision. “I’ll help you. I’ll put all of Candela’s medical resources at your disposal. We’ll find out exactly what the virus has done to your DNA, and whether there’s any possibility of treatment.”
Ben stepped toe-to-toe with Chance. “We don’t
want
your help, Claybourne. Never did.”
Chance ignored Ben completely. “I offer this service in exchange.”
I rose. Pulled Ben back a few paces. Took his place before Chance.
“In exchange for what?”
“Your help. I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
Suddenly, the odd feeling returned, stronger than anytime before, boiling up inside me like a hundred million suns. I staggered, eyes widening in shock.
For the first time, I could sense a pattern. Could trace the mental connections firing from my subconscious. Energy pulsed from me. Pushed outward. And was flowing toward . . .
Chance.
Impossible.
But it was true. Unbidden telepathic tethers were snaking from my brain and enveloping the boy standing rigidly before me.
Stunned, I reached out a shaky hand. Grabbed Chance’s arm. He didn’t resist.
As my fingers made contact, the sensation amplified, like touching a third rail. An overwhelming feeling of kinship bloomed inside my mind, its tendrils whirling faster and faster, like a cyclone gaining steam. Then the impression slowly faded into oblivion.
“You,” I breathed, unable to manage more.
Chance looked away, but shivers racked his frame.
“The feeling. It’s a reaction to . . .
you.
” I stared at Chance. “How? Why?”
Chance’s last statement hit me like a sledgehammer.
I could barely speak the words. “What mistake, Chance? What did you do?”
Chance hesitated. Looked from Ben to Hi to Shelton to me. Then he smiled sadly. “You’re not the only Virals anymore.”
Chance’s eyes ignited with molten red light.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Exposure
would not have been possible without the tireless effort of our super-editor Arianne Lewin at G. P. Putnam’s Sons. Thank you for knocking this story into shape. We’d also like to thank our excellent publicist, Elizabeth Zajac, for getting us from place to place, alive and mostly in one piece. Additional ovations, of course, go to everyone at Penguin Young Readers Group. You guys make it all happen. We are forever in your debt.
More plaudits go to Don Weisberg at Penguin and Susan Sandon at Random House UK. You saw the potential of the series first, and we thank you for believing in Tory and her crazy pack. We also must must
must
thank Jennifer Rudolph Walsh and the folks at William Morris Endeavor Entertainment for everything that they do. You connect all the dots. We appreciate the results.
Last, but certainly not least, an emphatic thank-you to our loyal readers. You are the point of everything that we do. Cheers!
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