The Last Girl (35 page)

Zoey shoots him again in his other shoulder. The report as well as the guard’s cry is drowned out by a blast of thunder that reverberates through the floor.

“How?”

“Turn the switch to seven and press the button,” the guard says through clenched teeth. He holds both wounds now with opposite hands, his arms crossed over his chest. Zoey flips the small dial on the radio’s side to seven and triggers the button.

“Director?” She waits. Lightning slashes the sky outside, and thunder growls its reply.

“Who is this?” The voice is polished and smooth. She would know it anywhere.

“It’s Zoey. I’m in the infirmary, and I’ve come alone, but before you call your guards, know that I have one of your men and I’ll kill him and then myself unless you do what I say.”

There is a long pause, then a low laugh. “You did this, didn’t you? The power outage. Very clever. Our technicians were sure it was the storm.”

“Bring me Terra. If you come with someone other than Terra, I shoot your guard and then you along with anyone else I can kill before I die.”

“Now Zoey, let’s not get hasty. We can all come away from this amicably if we listen to one another.”

Zoey pushes the button and pulls the pistol’s trigger again. The guard’s pant leg jumps just below his knee, and he bellows out a guttural scream until he runs out of breath.

“The next shot you hear will be the one that goes through my head,” Zoey says.

“Okay, all right, Zoey, but you’ll have to give me some time. The elevator won’t work without power, so I’ll have to find another way down.”

“I don’t believe you’d leave yourself stranded up there. I think the elevator runs off of another power source if the main goes down. Maybe your guard here will tell me before he dies of blood loss.” She aims the gun at the panting man again.

“It does,” he moans. “It runs off of its own backup generator that’s not hooked into the system.”

“Hear that?” Zoey says into the radio.

There is another brief pause, then the Director speaks again, and the syrupy smoothness is gone from his voice. “I’ll bring her down.”

Zoey tosses the radio to the floor and strips the guard’s handgun from him. He doesn’t move an inch, only breathes raggedly with his eyes closed. She puts the new gun in her own holster and waits. Every moment she expects the door at the far end of the infirmary to fly open and a dozen Redeyes to rush in, fully armed. It was stupid to come here, stupid to endanger herself, the mission, but she couldn’t leave Terra behind, not when she is so close.

And she couldn’t tell the others about Meeka. Not until they were clear of the ARC. Then they can beat her, kill her, whatever they want. At least then the other women will be safe.

She’s snapped from her thoughts as the soft rumbling of the elevator comes from behind the doors. Zoey raises the pistol, holding its sights on the doors until they slide open.

Terra steps out into the emergency lighting, the Director holding her arm. There is a small pistol in his hand, its barrel pointed at Terra’s temple. Behind him there is more movement. Reaper and the female doctor she’d left locked in the cell with Carter’s corpse move into the room as well.

“I said come alone,” Zoey says, aiming at the small target of the Director’s face over Terra’s shoulder.

“We’re unarmed, Zoey,” the woman says.
Vivian
,
that’s her name. She holds up her hands to reveal their emptiness. “We just want to talk.”

“Then take the gun away from her head.” The Director lowers the pistol but doesn’t release his hold on Terra’s arm.

“Terra, are you okay?” Her friend’s eyes swim in the low light. There is a blankness in her stare, a catatonic glaze that’s like a brick wall between them. “What did you do to her?”

“Zoey, why don’t you put down the gun, and we’ll talk,” Vivian says.

“Why don’t you shut your mouth before I put a bullet in it?”

The scientist looks stunned for a second before she tries to smile. “I know you’re upset, but we can work all this out.”

“Listen to her, Zoey,” the Director says. “You are all precious to us. We don’t want any harm to come to you, so why don’t you put the gun down, and we’ll talk.”

She ignores him, focusing instead on Terra, who still seems unaware of her surroundings. “Terra? Can you hear me?” The other woman’s lips part at the sound of her name. She blinks and looks in Zoey’s direction. “I’m taking you out of here, okay?”

“Zoey, please. Listen to yourself. You’re in the middle of the facility with two handguns and no possible way of escape. I’m not sure how you managed the little trick with the power or how you gained entry, but there’s no way we’re letting you simply walk out of here,” the Director says, his gun rising toward her.

“Zoey, listen to him,” Reaper says. His voice sends a shiver through her, since it’s the first time he’s ever spoken to her in person. The tall soldier brings both his hands up and she points her weapon at him, but he continues moving until his fingers touch the sides of the black mask covering the lower part of his face. He unsnaps the straps, and it falls away.

Zoey draws in a quick breath.

His face is a torn landscape of scars.

Most of the left side of his lips are gone, revealing white teeth and red gums. His cheek is puckered flesh, pale and rippled as if from a great heat. Part of his nose is also missing, the left nostril sunken into a dark hole while the other side is only partially formed.

“I look like this because I defended a woman just like you, Zoey. I would have died for her and almost did. Don’t rush to conclusions so fast that you miss the truth.”

Terra murmurs something, and Zoey glances at her. She is blinking more rapidly, as if she’s coming awake from a deep sleep.

“What did you do to her?” she asks again.

“Only what we had to,” the Director says.

“Why do you wait to do this to us? Why do you wait until we’re twenty-one?” When no one speaks she takes a step forward, thrusting the pistol out before her. “Answer me!”

“At twenty-one years of age, women are most fertile,” Vivian says. “We need every advantage to try and cure what’s happening.”

“Who are the fathers?” Zoey asks. “Random guards? You?” She gestures at the Director with the gun barrel.

“The Clerics’ sons,” Vivian says. “Their fathers were chosen specifically for the purpose that they serve. They are genetically sound, healthy, virile. Their sons carry the same traits. We use their semen and the women’s eggs in the most perfect conditions we can create.”

“All is for the greater good,” the Director says. “Everything you see around you is in an effort to save humanity.”

“Even impregnating us? Using us all as breeding stock? Violating us to see if we can give birth to a girl? There’s a line and you crossed it years ago.”

The Director’s face hardens. “There is nothing more important than the continuation of our species. Anything else is simply selfish.” His eyes narrow. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Zoey. How many died so you could traipse off on your own? How many more since you’ve come back? You accuse us of being monsters, but we work for life, and all you’ve accomplished so far is bringing death to those around you.”

She rages against his words, struggles in them as if they are deep water and she is draped in chains. She grits her teeth and slowly shakes her head.

“No.”

“I’m afraid
yes
, Zoey,” the Director says. “You know it’s true. We saw it in you during your time in the box. The ‘creature’ that was sent in to test you, that was a man, Zoey. Just a man in a costume, and you killed him.”

She tries to find a lie in the Director’s eyes but can see none. Somewhere deep inside she knew it all along, knew that it wasn’t an animal she’d killed, at least not in the sense it had been presented.

“Now, why don’t we end this before someone else gets hurt because of you?” the Director purrs.

“Blame, walls, locks, shame, it’s all control. All of it. You use our insecurities and fears against us to keep us in place. But no more,” she growls. “No more.”

“Zoey?” Terra says, her eyes the clearest they’ve been.

“Terra, everything’s going to be all right.”

Terra’s chin trembles, and she gazes down at the floor. “It was a boy, Zoey. I was going to have a little boy.”

Zoey watches her friend for a long moment before shifting her eyes to the Director, a burning realization surfacing within her. “You kill them, don’t you? The boys. You kill them and then kill the mothers.”

“You don’t understand, Zoey,” Vivian says.

“You stripped him from inside her! Look at her! That’s why she’s like this!” Zoey screams. She is a millimeter from pulling the trigger, from killing them all. It’s better than they deserve and there’s nothing more she would like to do.

“I never got to carry him,” Terra says in her ghostly voice. Zoey blinks, thinking that her friend is so deep in shock she has made herself believe that she gave birth and was never able to hold her son.

But then the words take on a different meaning.

The black tanks in the room above them. Cords running out and into the central computer.

The image cauterizes all thought for a moment before the reality of it sinks home like a thousand pounds dropped on her shoulders.

“She was never pregnant,” Zoey breathes. “You
grow
them. You grow the babies in the tanks.” She knows it’s the truth by the way Vivian’s face changes. “You wait to see if they’ll be female, and if they aren’t, you flush them away. You tell us we’re the only hope, that we hold the last chances of life, but you don’t even allow us to carry our own children. We’re pieces in an experiment. That’s the only value you’ve ever given us.”

“Zoey, you have to believe us,” Vivian says. “We couldn’t tell you certain things—”

“You told us nothing but lies. There was never a plague. You lied to us all, about everything.”

“You’re right, there was never a plague,” Vivian says. “We couldn’t isolate a single factor for why females weren’t being born anymore. All we know is that for some reason an embryo, that is in all rights supposed to become a female fetus, changes near the one-month stage.”

“What do you mean, ‘changes’?”

Vivian grimaces. “They shift and become male. We’ve never found a reason why.”

Even through the bafflement at the other woman’s statement, Zoey’s seething anger emerges. “So this is what you did? Captured us? Stole us from our parents and raised us to experiment on?”

“We didn’t have a choice.”

“No,” Zoey says, her voice barely above a whisper. “That’s what we never had.”

She’s going to kill them. She knows it a heartbeat before she aims the pistol. Just as she’s centering the sights on the Director’s forehead, the door to the infirmary opens.

Footsteps come down the aisle, and she spins toward the sound.

Lee stands beside the closest bed.

He stares at her, such longing in his eyes that she nearly drops the handgun. Even in the dim light, punctuated by the staccato bursts of lightning, he is handsome beyond measure. All at once she realizes how much she’s missed him, how much she’s held back the feelings she didn’t truly understand until now.

“Zoey,” he says. Out of the darkness behind him, Simon appears. Her heart surges at the sight of him as well. She searches his face for any malice or blame but finds only a gentle relief mingled with sorrow. They move forward and stand beside her. Lee’s fingers trace her cheek.

“Can’t believe it’s you,” he says. She tries to speak but can’t. Instead she shifts her gaze to Simon, who gives her the barest of smiles.

“You see, Zoey. This is your home. We are your family. Put the gun down,” the Director says.

She looks at him, at his hand still holding Terra’s arm, at Vivian’s cold expression and Reaper’s ruined visage.

“No. You’re going to let us go,” she says.

The Director sighs. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

With a quick movement he raises the gun to Terra’s head and pulls the trigger.

Zoey’s scream is drowned out by the gunshot. Terra’s beautiful, blonde hair flies out from the side of her head and is suddenly streaked with crimson. Her legs fold beneath her, and she crumples to her back.

The room erupts in movement.

Lee leaps in front of her, as does Simon. Vivian steps toward the elevator, avoiding the spreading pool of blood coursing from Terra’s head. Reaper moves forward, hands out before him.

“Cleric, apprehend your charge and return her to her room!” the Director yells. He holds the pistol at his side, but it is pointed in Simon’s general direction.

Reaper is closer, and now there is something glittering in one hand. Something sharp and pointed.

“Cleric, this is your last warning. Disarm your charge. Now!”

Simon turns, brushing Lee out of the way, as Reaper moves in on her other side. Simon’s gaze is steely and dead as he takes a step forward.

“Simon, no,” Zoey says, bringing the handgun level with his chest. He stops a pace from her and freezes. His eyes thaw, and she doesn’t understand what she’s seeing.

“I hope you liked the books,” Simon says, and launches himself at Reaper.

He is a blur of motion, faster than she’s ever seen anyone move. He strikes Reaper in the side of the head, and then the two men are locked in a struggle for the knife.

Lee yells something she doesn’t understand.

The Director moves forward, first aiming his weapon at Simon and then at Lee, the whole while he grins, and there is something unearthly about the smile. It is like seeing past a tattered mask covering pure evil.

“Don’t shoot her!” Vivian yells. The Director’s attention falters, head twitching toward the doctor’s voice.

Zoey brings up the gun and fires.

The Director’s grin melts and he stumbles, dropping to his knees. A stain is spreading across the belly of his white dress shirt. He places a hand to the wound and brings it back before his eyes in disbelief. Slowly he tips forward, landing hard on his face, and lies still.

Lee grabs her by the arm and begins to pull her toward the infirmary exit, but even as he does so the door is yanked open and several guards spill inside, lights and weapons pointed at them as they advance.