Fox Forever (18 page)

And then.

I sense something else.

I stop.

Cock my head to the side trying to understand what it is.

A breath.

A presence.

A closing in.

And then shadows.

Flashes of air.

A thousand screeches surround me and I’m knocked to the ground. Pounced on. Razors cutting into my flesh. Screeches ringing in my ears from all sides. I fight them off, whatever they are, tossing, punching, trying to stand and being pulled down again. There are dozens of them coming at me. I feel bites, gouges, claws, the snapping of jaws as they miss me. I roll and deflect them, gaining a moment of freedom and then losing it again. Teeth sink into my hip, tear into my arm. I kick one off and another takes its place. I finally grab what seems to be a small one around the neck, and I hear an agonized screech, and for a moment the onslaught pauses. I pull the creature closer, holding it by the throat until it whimpers louder. The rest hold back and even though I’m sure they can’t understand, I yell, “I’ll kill it. Stay back or I’ll snap its head off.” And I could. Right now, I could do it in a heartbeat.

There’s screeching and snapping, but they stay at bay, seeming to sense my desperation. I walk backward, holding the creature by the neck as it claws at my arms. With each step back I take, the shadowy pack follows, just waiting for me to trip or let go. When I sense they’re getting too close, I squeeze tighter so the creature in my arms screams and chokes. I step carefully, knowing one stumble and they will be on top of me again. Blood drips down my face, into my eyes, my mouth. I feel every gash, the pain, the gouges where their teeth have riddled my flesh, but I keep moving. If I stop, I know I’m dead. The creature twists and slithers, razorlike claws shredding my shirt and digging deeper into my arms trying to escape, but I keep my hold.

I make it to the end of one tunnel, and then another, and I’m finally moving into the larger station area where scattered distant light once again gives the walls form. At last I can make out the features of the creatures. Even darkness can’t disguise their gruesome distorted bodies. Maybe half-dogs. Maybe not. But it’s the other half that sickens me, so much so that my arms nearly drop the creature in my grasp. The other half is unmistakable. Thin, gaunt, they stand upright. I stare at the largest ones, just feet away from me ready to pounce. Their lips are missing and the exposed sharp teeth give them a grotesque perpetual grin. Their eyes are frozen open, forever startled, because they have no lids. Their bodies are covered with slime, scabs, and filth. And long sharp claws protrude from their fingers.

Fingers that are distinctly human.

I look down at the creature in my arms. Even through the squalor and horror, I can tell—it’s a child. A small one, not much bigger than Kayla. I look back at the pack, and single out a creature at the front, the one most eager to tear my head off—man or woman I don’t know, but without a doubt, the parent. Our eyes meet and I see the panic.
Human
panic. I shove the child toward it and run. I get only a two-second lead, before the rest are after me again, slashing at my back with their claws, but I manage to get to the stairs and they fall back. They won’t venture into the world aboveground and that’s all that saves me. As soon as I’m in the open air of the public gardens, I fall to the ground, gasping for breath, my body shaking, convulsing, finally giving in to the damage.

I remember the gash on my side from when Gatsbro’s goons beat me. I know this damage is far worse. It’s everywhere. My back, my arms, my legs, my scalp. Is it blood running into my eyes, or BioPerfect? I reach down and feel the deep wound at my hip, the fabric ripped away by their sharp teeth. I bring my fingers to my face. Blood covers them, but worse, bright blue gel. I close my eyes and my hand falls to my side. The wounds are so deep, my BioPerfect is oozing out everywhere. I’m leaving telltale signs all over the ground. I have to get home before someone sees me. I drag myself to my feet and the world spins. I’m still programmed for pain and Gatsbro made sure it was my default. I concentrate, trying to force it away, knowing I can, but I can’t get past the wall. Miesha’s words vibrate through me.
You can do it. Figure out a way.
It’s too much and I fall to the ground again. I crawl to a nearby tree and use that to lean against as I try again to get to my feet. I look down at my shirt, covered in red and blue, and then I hear a honk. A cab sits at the curb and the window is down. “Need a ride?” the CabBot calls. “On the house.”

It’s the CabBot from the other night. Bob. The passenger door is open. Has he been following me? At this point, I don’t care. I have no choice but to rely on his help. I stumble across the lawn to the cab and fall in.

“Home?”

“Yeah,” I gasp. “It’s at—”

“I know where it is.”

As we turn the corner the last thing I see is a stream of Security Force vans descending on the gardens.

* * *

I don’t remember getting back to my apartment. I don’t know how I got up the stairs, but when I come to on the floor of the living room, I know I’m in deep trouble and there’s only one person who can help me. With my last bit of strength, I call her.

Panic

“Jenna.”

“Who is this?”

“Jenna,” I try again, but even words leave me winded.

“Locke?”

I swallow and take as deep a breath as I can manage. “I’m hurt, Jenna. I need a doctor. Someone good.”

“Locke, my God, what happened?”

“There’s blood and blue gel everywhere. I need someone who can really stitch, like you. Not like the one I had last time.”

Even through my pained haze I can hear the panic in her voice. “How did you—”

“He’s there, Jenna. I’m sure he’s alive. I was so close, but then—”

“I’m on my way, Locke. I’ll be there by—”

“No, Jenna. Not you. Someone here. Not you.”

“I can be there in a few hours. There is no one else. No one good enough who understands about the Bio Gel.”

“Jenna.”

The phone tab slips from my hand, and then the world slips away too.

* * *

Hazy voices call to me. I call back.

I try to find them. Reach them.

I force my lids back and gasp for breath. Light. Blessed light.

But hovering in front of me is the last thing I want to see. Xavier’s sputtering face looms in and out of focus. When he sees my eyes open he walks away, yelling, “He’s awake!”

Jenna’s scowling face comes into view next. “You are not immortal, you know?”

I look around, orienting myself. The apartment. Thank God I’m back at the apartment. I try to pull myself up in the bed and groan in agony. Every inch throbs. I look at my chest and arms, a zigzag of cuts, repairs, and bandages. It looks like I’ve wrestled with a lion. Maybe five of them. Like the last time she patched me up, I’m naked from the waist up. I can guess that the lower half is the same, and even though I know Jenna has seen me before, I try to pull the sheet closer to my sides.

She isn’t done with me. She walks to the other side of the bed and pours me a glass of water, almost simultaneously waving her arms in the air, which is a feat in itself. “Honestly, Locke, you have your limits just like anyone else! You’re only a boy with a few enhancements.”

“And drawbacks,” I add, noting how much I hurt.

“Oh yeah, you have plenty of those!”

I see the worry on her face.

“My God, it was like I was putting something back together that had been through a meat grinder!” She turns to Xavier. “And
you
have some explaining to do!”

“Stop!” A wave of pain slams me as I pull myself up in the bed. I lean back against the headboard, catching my breath.

Jenna turns to look at me and waits, fury painted all over her face.

I slowly draw air into my lungs, trying to minimize movement. “What I did last night was my decision.
My
choice.”

“Well, it was a poor choice, wasn’t it?” she snaps, and snatches up a pile of bandages on the table next to me.

I try to get up to prove her wrong, refusing to grimace even though my skull feels like it’s cracking in two, but Xavier easily pushes me back into my pillow. “I’m not picking you up off the floor again. Stay put.”

“I’m alive, so it wasn’t that bad of a decision, and I discovered something if anyone’s interested. He’s—”

“Shhh!” Jenna says, glancing at the doorway.

I hear arguing in the next room. I groan. “Don’t tell me Carver and Livvy are here too. One mishap and everyone’s breaking the rules and showing up?”

“Carver and Livvy are the least of your problems,” Jenna whispers.

“By a long shot,” Xavier adds.

I don’t even have time to worry about what they mean when the door swings open and I’m facing my worst nightmare.

Miesha.

I look at Jenna. “What’s she doing here?”

Miesha stomps closer. “What are you asking her for? I’m standing right here.” And she starts in on one of her tirades. I don’t even try to argue. I let her get it out of her system. She repeats what Jenna said already. I know, I know. I’m not immortal. I have my limits. When she’s done with me she moves on to Xavier, and then Carver and Livvy, telling them all the reasons they shouldn’t have put me in this kind of position and who did they think they were anyway? And then she comes back to me, wondering what I was doing down in the tunnels in the first place, “and what the hell is down there?”

I can’t tell her the why or the what. The others know it and hold their breath waiting for my reply. I turn it back on her. “I’m doing something important, Miesha. A Favor, remember? Something that I think matters.”

“But—”

“How old were you when you ran off with Karden?”

She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t need to tell me. She was eighteen. Technically only a few months older than I am now.

“And how old were you when you were carted off to prison?”

She walks to the window without answering and looks out, squinting her eyes like she’s looking for something.

“You were there for
eleven
years, Miesha. I’m sure that was no tea party.” I pause to take a breath, feeling winded by just a few sentences. “I’m alive, all right? It’s not the end of the world.”

Her gaze jumps from the window to me. “Just because I made stupid mistakes doesn’t mean you need to.”

“Are you saying what Karden did, what he believed in, was a mistake?”

She blinks. Again and again, like she’s blinking away a question that she can’t answer. She takes a deep breath and walks over to my water glass, takes a sip, and then turns to Jenna. “And what do you say? Is he going to be
okay
?”

It’s my turn to be caught off guard. It’s the way she says “okay,” a familiar slow inflection I’ve heard before—my brother asking doctors if I’d be okay and their answer was no.
No, he’s not going to be okay
, words spoken centuries ago and yet they ring as fresh as yesterday.

“I think the BioPerfect he lost will regenerate itself. His vital organs appear to be functioning for now,” Jenna answers.

It’s a better prognosis, but not by much. She’s reaching. Doubt is thick in her voice.

“I’m going to be fine. I’m feeling better already,” I say, adding a touch of convincing annoyance. I roll my eyes for added effect. Even that small movement makes fingers of pain claw across my scalp. But it works. I watch Miesha’s shoulders lower two inches.

“We all need to get out of here while it’s still early,” Carver says. “Before someone sees us.” He looks at Miesha. “It has to do with the Favor and we can’t explain. Too much is invested. We can’t blow our cover. But before we leave we need to talk to Locke.
In private
.”

Miesha stands her ground and I notice Jenna’s back stiffen. It’s clear they don’t like taking orders in regard to me, but when Xavier steps in and asks them again, Jenna relents and says they’ll wait in the next room.

As soon as the door shuts behind them, Carver lays into me. He’s livid. Security is crawling all over that park today, he rants, not to mention the whole city, checking IDs on everyone. It’s not safe for Non-pacts to be on any street. And even more important, now how am I supposed to go to the Secretary’s house tonight? Xavier and Livvy join in, keeping their voices low, but it’s still all hushed shouting. Why did I risk it? Why did I go down into the tunnels without telling them? What did I see?

I open my mouth to answer and then stop. Our goals don’t exactly coincide anymore. Their goal is strictly Karden and the money. Mine includes Raine.

“I thought I saw LeGru go down there—”

“We already told you LeGru goes down there. That’s not news. You—”

“I was curious. I wanted to explore and see what was down there. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“You’re damn right you won’t,” Carver says, but Xavier just looks at me. He knows I’m lying, knows how I hate the darkness. He knows curiosity had nothing to do with it, but he says nothing, at least for now.

I move on, trying to get all their minds spinning in a different direction. “Raine’s group is meeting all week. I’ll be fine by tomorrow. I’ll only miss one day. Notify the Collective and tell them my mother is sick and I’m playing the devoted son. You can manage a flare-up, can’t you Livvy?”

They all see the logic of my solution. There really is no other choice. “By tomorrow?” Carver asks.

I wonder myself at the impossibility, given the damage, but somehow I’ll have to make it happen. “Tomorrow,” I say firmly.

Livvy says she will take care of notifying the Collective and they plan their exits before it gets any later. Right before they all leave, Xavier pauses at the door. “Just what did you run into down there?”