Skylight (Arcadium, #2) (33 page)

I duck to the
left, swerve to the right. We have the length of the train to
cover… that’s all. I hear thumps and whacks and grunts of effort
behind me, mixing with the curdling screams of hungry infected. I
hope Kean’s making good use of my weapon. I slip between two
grappling sets of arms and put myself right in the middle of the
minefield. One wrong move and it’s all over.

We move like
supersonic chess pieces, dancing around. Left, right, forward,
back, forward. The infected know what to do. Their targets keep
changing. A wall of three come screaming towards me and Kean
hollers to draw them away. As is if I’ve gone invisible, they all
turn and follow the yelling.

The platform
isn’t busy so I head for that instead of taking my chance between
the trains. For a few strange seconds I’m sheltered from the rain,
and then I see it. I jam on my brakes as an infected woman in a
really nice summer dress launches across the space in front of me
and lands face first in the side of the train.

The car. I see
the car! Beautiful and glossy white. Just where we left it. I can
finally see why Jacob was so protective of his car. Maybe it’s not
alive but it’s totally capable of saving us.

I sprint with
all my might, drop down off the platform edge and slam up against
the vehicle’s slick body. I grapple with the door handle as an
infected leers up out of nowhere and I yank the door open, slamming
it into the man’s body. He goes sprawling and I dive into the back
seat of our four-wheel drive.

Hot, musty air
fills my nostrils. I shirk off my bag and look for the others out
the side window. I see Kean bolting to me so I fling the door open.
He bundles in as Trouble leaps into the driver’s seat.

For a second we
all freeze, unable to believe we’re safely tucked up in the car.
Then Trouble starts the engine. Infected pelt into the sides of the
car. Bang! Bang!

Trouble boots
it and we launch away, skidding along the stones. Trouble’s hair is
all pushed forward, leaking drops onto his face. He wipes it back
in one swift move, clips on his seatbelt and looks up in the rear
view mirror.

“Trouble,” he
says under his breath.

“You got that
right,” I say.

Kean must have
ditched the metal pole when he jumped in. The axe is bloodying up
the front seat cover and this strange need overcomes me. I don’t
know why, but I lean into the front seat, hit the electric window
switch, and fire the thing out the window. Who knows, some other
survivor might need a bit of luck. Maybe I just saved a life by
leaving it behind.

Trouble quirks
an eyebrow at me but doesn’t protest.

“There are so
many more hidden weapons in here,” I tell him. He stares at me for
a good few seconds and then breaks into the most glorious grin.

I’m completely
soaked. We all are. It doesn’t make for a pleasant riding situation
and the windows keep fogging up. Trouble plays with all the buttons
until he finds one for the air con. No one complains. As long as we
get home, who cares if we ever need this car again? Who cares about
saving petrol?

“Are you
alright?” Kean asks.

I slump back
against his chest and Kean wraps his arms around me. “You’re the
one that went skydiving without a parachute,” I say. “Are
you
alright?

“I see what you
did there. Skydiving in Skylight.” He gives a weak smile. “Good
one.”

I touch his
cheek lightly. “But seriously, are you hurt?”

Kean shakes his
rain-soaked head. I blink as a few drops hit me in the face and he
laughs.

“Thanks to that
trolley of soft stuff I don’t currently resemble a pancake. For
once it was just luck and not you saving my ass.”

I look away to
hide my expression but he catches it.

“No,” he says
slowly. “No way.”

“Technically
Adrian saved you. He stopped me from putting it away in the nurses
station.”

Kean’s laugh
twists with nervousness. “I’d love to see the look on his face if
he ever finds out he’s a life saver. I can’t believe he tried to
kill me. I was just staring up at that railing for so long and
there was no one. Until I saw you.”

I pull a tight
smile. “Trouble and Jessie were busy fighting the infected
back.”

“And you?” Kean
smoothes his thumb over my forehead.

“Adrian locked
me in the corridor but I stabbed him with the glass necklace, right
through his hand, and he ran away crying.”

“So…I saved
you?”

I look up into
his eyes. “Without that glass hanging around my neck we’d all be
dead. But I suppose you could go all the way back and say
technically Liss saved me when she dropped her cup.”

Kean rolls his
eyes. “The minute I saw Adrian with Jessie I just knew he was up to
something. If I ever see him again, I’ll kill him.”

“Not if I get
there first.”

I check my
pockets for the vial of blood and get Kean to hold it as I twist
around, retrieving the shot-gun from the back of my jeans.

“You think
it’ll work?” he says, holding the vial up to the window light. “You
think Jacob was telling the truth?”

The blood
slurps from one end to the other like the fastest hourglass timer
in the world.

“Only one way
to find out.”

It takes a bit
of brainwork to get the vial set in the gun, but when it’s done I
sit back, holding onto it loosely, counting down the seconds until
I find out the truth.

WE PULL UP to
the house and it’s almost as if we’ve been out to the shops and are
just bringing back the groceries. It’s easy to pretend there’s no
infected up here. There is, though. Nowhere near as many as in the
city but the danger is always there.

The atmosphere
has been ravaged by the electrical storm. The air smells fresh, now
that the rain has stopped, like ice and churned dirt and new summer
grass.

I run to the
door and knock as loud as I can. I can’t think, I can’t
breathe.

“Henry! We’re
back, open up!” I call.

I wait for the
sounds of life, the excited clambering to get to the door.

And I wait and
wait.

Maybe he’s out
on the decking.

I bang on the
door with both my fists. “Henry! Henry!”

Nothing.

“Spare key?” I
say to Kean.

Frowning, he
digs his fingers into a patch of soft soil and rips out a small
ziplock bag. The key is wrapped neatly inside. Kean unlocks the
screen door and the front door, then enters with caution. I follow
on his heels.

“Henry?” Kean
calls slowly. The door to Liss’ bedroom is shut. There’s an empty
tin of baked beans on the living room coffee table with a spoon
sitting in it. Beside it sits half a glass of water, the surface
swimming with dust.

I go for the
balcony. Trouble jogs to the garage.

“I’ll check
upstairs. He might have dragged himself up there.” Kean
disappears.

“Henry?” I
shout into empty air. I search over all three sides of the balcony
in case Henry’s gone over, but it’s all clear.

I duck inside,
just as Kean comes running down the stairs.

“Nothing?” he
says.

“Not even over
the sides,” I reply. “Where’s his wheelchair?”

Trouble returns
and shakes his head.

Kean’s
expression goes dark as we contemplate the only closed door
left.

“Henry, are you
in there?” Kean calls, pressing his ear to the wood. I look at
Trouble, then nod at the cricket bat sitting in the corner of the
entranceway. He moves so swiftly.

“Kean, move,” I
say gently pushing him aside. I grab the door handle and Trouble
readies himself beside me.

“Go,” Kean
says, and I fling the door open. Trouble barges in first with Kean
hot on his trail. I’m last, so I get to see their expressions
before I even get into the room. That’s how I know it’s bad.

Trouble lowers
the bat and steps back against the wall so quickly it almost looks
like an invisible force has pushed him. I step around Kean and end
up at the foot of the bed. Liss is baring her teeth with a low
growl, tugging against her cuffs. Her eyes like white marbles,
unable to focus. Her mouth is blood stained.

Henry sits in
his wheelchair next to the bed, looking out with dead grey eyes,
shifting over us like he’s picking from a menu. He draws in a
strangled breath and makes the saddest noise. An upturned plate of
baked beans leeches into the carpet and a dirty spoon is flung a
little way from it. I can see where Liss has bitten Henry, right on
the meaty part of his hand. Little red puncture marks curve over
his skin, the blood long since dried and flaked.

My mind goes
blank. Shock slams the air out of my lungs. We just stand there and
stare, like time is an infinite loop for us.

A thought
lights up in a dark corner of my mind. It glares at me. There’s
only one vial of blood for two infected bodies. It’s not enough and
Jacob can’t help us now. One must live and the other stays
dead.

I make the
choice instantly, like it’s what I was put on this earth to do.
Kean senses it, because he turns so slowly to me.

“No, there’s
got to be another way.”

I tighten my
grip on the gun and stare back. There’s nothing he can say.

“Please, no,”
he begs. “No, no, no. Just wait.”

I press the gun
to Liss’ leg and pull the trigger.

Kean’s mouth
drops open.

I had to. I had
to make the choice. And the worst part is, it wasn’t hard at
all.

The result is
instant. Liss’ infected face goes tight, her eyes spasm. And she
drops back to the bed, calm as sleeping princess. Within seconds
she starts to look pinker, that’s how I know I didn’t just kill
her.

All the
movement excites Henry. He jerks around in his wheel chair,
grabbing at the air. And then he looks down, mystified by something
— that’s the only warning I get.

I almost fall
backward through the window because infected Henry
stands
up
. As if he’s been pretending to be paralysed all this
time.

I scrabble with
Liss’ helpless body, trying to undo her restraints and get her
away, but I just make it worse. Henry lunges for Liss’ arm and
sinks his teeth so far in it shouldn’t be possible. It makes a
horrible suckling sound. I grab the bedside lamp and bring it down
on his skull before he can even think of tearing the chunk from her
arm. I bring it down, again and again and suddenly Henry shudders,
his blood smeared head lolling back, and he crumples on the
floor.

Oh God.

I stand there,
sucking in quick frightened breaths, and stare at my shattered
dreams. My re-infected sister and my boyfriend’s dead brother.

My eyes snap to
Kean’s, and I will never forget the look on his face. Utter
betrayal. So clear and clean and cold and fearsome. At least if his
eyes were burning, there’d be hope of putting out the flames. But
he’s stone cold. Set from head to toe in concrete. Just staring at
me.

I can’t
breathe.

I have to get
out.

I dash into the
living room, and let out a scream. All we’ve gone through to be
here. To lose it in the last seconds is excruciating. Footsteps
follow me, but I don’t dare look. Instead I replay those ten
seconds over and over in my mind. My choice, Liss changing, Henry
standing up, teeth sinking, lamp base meeting his small skull, over
and over and over.

I’ve saved no
one.

Kean stands by
the front door, rigid, immobile, tortured.

Trouble doesn’t
know what to do, who to console. He hovers between us, holding his
chest like his heart is breaking. The door to the bedroom is still
half open, drizzling out its grey light.

“Hey guys?” A
small voice calls. “I think I hit my head.” Henry steps out and
looks over us with his pale blue eyes, so inhuman they’re
practically glowing like neon signs.

We all stare at
him. Henry. Walking, talking Henry. A sight we’ve never seen
before.

“Guys?” he
says, confused, holding his bloodied head.

Another voice,
high and shrill sails out of the room. “Get me out of here!” she
screams.

My insides turn
to jelly. I can barely move, barely walk the five steps it takes me
to get to the door. Henry steps out of the way and I prop myself on
the doorframe. I can’t look. I can’t look.

The most
ear-piercing scream erupts.

Liss stops as
soon as she sees me. She’s half sitting up, pulling at her
restraints, her arm glugging out a small stream of blood. Her eyes
are acid blue with dark pinpoint irises, her cheeks are bright and
flushed. She still has dried blood under her lips.

“Flo?” she says
in a high-pitched squeak. “What’s going on?” She ignores her
bleeding arm and the fact that she’s restrained, and looks over my
wet clothes suspiciously. “Have you been swimming without me?”

My lips
tremble. I shake my head.

“Then why are
you all wet?” Liss’ shoulders drop, her head tips to one side.

The teeth marks
on her arm are puckering, the blood flow is slows. It shouldn’t be
able to happen, but then she isn’t a normal person anymore.

“Well…?” Liss
says. “Say something.”

My lips
flounder for a moment. “I thought you were dead.”

Liss plants the
most adorable confused expression on her face and I just burst into
tears.

YOU WOULD THINK
that a girl who is capable of slaying infected people, stabbing
real people, and trying to kill her boyfriend’s brother, would not
need to cry. You would also think that a girl who brought her
sister back from the brink of death wouldn’t have anything to cry
over anymore. But dammit if I don’t just cry for the next couple of
hours straight.