Tomorrow Land (30 page)

“I believe you,” she murmured against his lips. “I will always believe you.”

And she meant it with all of her heart.

Chapter Thirty-three

“Dad, Dad!” Peyton burst into Ian Anderson’s workshop, not caring about protocol or ticking him off. She was surprised the door hadn’t been locked, and she found him at his computer, typing furiously. Just seeing him there, calm, normal, not a monster, filled her with an overwhelming relief. She sank down into a nearby chair, head in her hands. “Oh God, Dad, it was so terrible!”

Her father rose from his computer, his expression grave. “What is it, Peyton?” he asked.

“Monsters,” she blubbered, rising to her feet. “Like the one at the hospital. We were out at a party and—”

Her father took her by the shoulders and pushed her back so he could look her in the eyes. His face was wild with anger and she retreated, almost frightened. So much for him being calm and normal. “Didn’t I tell you to stay in?” he demanded. His fingernails dug into her arms and she winced in pain. “Are you deaf or just plain stupid?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice quavering. “But you’ve got to listen to me. There were monsters. Like… zombies or something. And they were attacking people. They were…” She trailed off, unable to voice what she had seen. “It was awful,” she finally said.

Her father released her. “Yes, I can imagine,” he replied, sounding distracted. He wandered back to his computer, staring down at the monitor as if it held the answers to all of life’s questions. Maybe he thought it really did.

“God, this is a disaster. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way,” he muttered under his breath. “Not like this.”

“What?”

He straightened and turned back to her. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“Dad?” She had to tell him the rest. The unbearable, awful rest.

“Yes?”

“This is going to sound crazy, but I think one of them was Avery Williams. She was sick. Her mom said she had the flu. But I came face to face with one of the monsters and I swear to God it was her. Or it
had been
her. She didn’t seem to recognize me.”

Ian nodded, not looking the least bit surprised. Probably he was the only man on Earth who wouldn’t tell her she was being ridiculous.

“From our research, my coalition has determined that the Super Flu is affecting different people in different ways,” he told her. “Some people simply die. Those are the lucky ones. The others… well, these others seem to have their DNA mutated somehow. They have reduced brain function and increased hunger. They lose their body hair and experience skin discoloration, get open sores.”

Peyton shuddered. “Like… zombies?”

Her father shook his head. “They’re not zombies, Peyton. Far from it. They’re living, breathing humans. Completely alive. But they’re not your friends and neighbors anymore. They’re also infectious. Their saliva… well, one bite and you could turn into one of them, too.”

Peyton thought about how close she’d been to being bitten. By her best friend, of all people. She sank into a chair, head in her hands. “Oh God,” she whispered. “When will it all end? And how?”

“Look, Peyton,” her father said. “Things are likely to get worse before they get better. And I need for you to start taking things seriously. That means no leaving the house for parties anymore. And I don’t want you to go back to school. I can’t imagine it will stay open much longer, anyway. And no more going to the supermarket. We have enough food, no matter what your mother thinks.”

“But, Dad!” she protested. “I don’t want to be stuck here, locked away! And I can defend myself now that I know what’s going on. Wasn’t that what all the training was about? What’s the use of being alive if I have to spend my time in hiding, not being able to be with the people I care about?”

Ian shuffled his feet, staring into space. “Indeed,” he said, almost absent-mindedly. “That’s what the training was about. I wanted to prepare you in case something went wrong. But I don’t think a few martial arts lessons are enough. You need more. Humanity needs more.” He rubbed his chin with his finger and thumb. “You need to be a Molly Millions.”

She looked at him, confused. What on Earth was he talking about? That razor girl in his
Neuromancer
book? That was ridiculous. After all, she was tough because she had cybernetic—

Oh, no. No, no, no.

“No way,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not going to let you implant me.”

He frowned, and she realized that was exactly what he’d been thinking. “They’d help you survive,” he remarked. “And I’ve been perfecting them.”

“Survive? At what cost? Look what happened to the soldiers you created!” she cried. “Do you really want that for your daughter?” She remembered the photos of the men her father had implanted so many years ago, their blank faces marred by metal. They were monsters, too, in their own way. Just like Avery, only infected by technology instead of disease.

“That was not the cybernetics’ fault,” her dad retorted. “That was their inadequate government training and then their psychological response to being asked to do things outside of human nature. Sure, it’s easy to blame the tech, but those soldiers would have been fine if they’d been trained as I mandated. They were unprepared for what they were sent to do.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Cybernetics don’t kill people, Peyton. People kill people.”

She couldn’t believe they were even having this conversation. That her father—her own father—wanted to turn her into a cyborg. “I’m not going to let you do that to me. I’m not a soldier. I don’t want to be a soldier. I’m just a plain high school kid!”

“Peyton Marie Anderson! There is no more high school, and plain kids won’t survive,” her father retorted. “This is the end of the world we’re talking about. It’s no game. And I’m offering you the best chance possible to come through on the other side. To become a part of Earth’s future.”

“By turning me into a robot.”

Her father looked pained. “You won’t be a robot. You’ll just have… parts. Very tiny, non-obtrusive parts that will help you see further, react faster, fight better. Parts that will help you survive whatever may come.” He paused, peering at her over his glasses. “You do want to survive, don’t you, Peyton?”

She hung her head, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do. “Of course,” she whispered at last. “But at what price?”

“Look,” her dad said, walking back over to his computer. “We don’t have to do this today. We still have some time left, and I still have some things to do before we go underground. You think about it and come back to me when you’ve decided. I will ultimately leave it up to you.”

“Fine.” She knew her answer, but at least this would buy some time. She started back up the basement stairs.

“Oh, and, Peyton?” her dad called after her.

She paused on the top stair. “Yeah?”

“Until you’re properly outfitted to survive, I don’t want you leaving the house. Not ever again.”

“But, Dad—”

“You want to see your friends? You want to see your boyfriend, whom you started dating against my advice? Yes,” he added, “I know all about him. But until you agree to added protection, you are not leaving the house for him or anyone. Don’t think it’ll be otherwise.”

Chapter Thirty-four

Chase woke to the sound of soft breathing next to him. Helga had taken the night watch, and he and Peyton were able to curl up together in a motel room, snuggling close. There was little light, except for what flickered in through the curtained window from the campfire, but they were both mentally and physically exhausted from the ordeal and had immediately passed out in each other’s arms.

Peyton was curled against him, her small body melting into his. He absently brushed her hair with his hand, fingering the smooth strands. How he’d wanted this, and for so long. Now here she was. All his. At last.

The moment should have been perfect. But he couldn’t relax. Not with the itching. Low in his belly first, then crawling up and down each limb.

It had been easy to make a promise to himself to give up the drugs when he was bargaining for his life and trying to appease the girl of his dreams; it was a lot harder to act on that promise in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep. No more pills. Not just tonight, but not ever again. The rest of his life spilled out in front of him, and it suddenly seemed very bleak.

He tried to tell himself that his love for Peyton was enough. Surely she could satiate his hungers, his desires. But the gnawing attacked him like a thousand tiny midges prickling his skin, and no amount of scratching would make it go away.

Peyton shifted in her sleep, moaning a bit, and he wondered if she was dreaming about him. He felt so weak, so awful, lying there with her in his arms and unable to think of anything but a hit.

 “You okay?” she murmured, half-asleep, turning to face him.

“I’m fine,” he lied, not wanting to trouble her. He’d been enough trouble already. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

She frowned, propping herself up on her elbow. “You don’t look fine. What’s wrong?”

He felt his face burn in shame, not wanting to admit the truth.

“Chase, you can tell me. You can tell me anything. I won’t judge you, I promise. Just tell me,” she urged, reaching out and stroking his cheek with a loving finger.

And suddenly he wanted to. He was sick of acting unnaturally strong. He wanted to lean on the girl he loved, to allow her to see the real him. The weak, vulnerable him. “It’s hard to sleep without the drugs,” he admitted. “When darkness falls, they’re all I can think about. I… ache without them. I itch.” There, he’d said it. Let her take the truth as she would. Maybe she’d kick him out of bed, yell at him for how pathetic he was, for having stumbled into this addiction.

But she didn’t. “Oh, Chase,” she whispered, kissing him lightly on the mouth instead. He kissed her back, then pulled away, wanting to explain somehow.

“Before you came back, I thought I had nothing to live for,” he confessed, staring up at the ceiling. “The drugs were the only thing I had to block out reality. To dull the pain of all I’d lost, of what the world had become.” He frowned. “But now… now for the first time, I have a reason to go on.” He turned to her, his eyes watery. “You. And I don’t want my weakness to get in the way of that.”

She gazed at him with serious eyes. “Look, Chase, my mother was an addict. And at the time, I couldn’t understand it. I thought if only she loved me enough, she’d figure out a way to give up her pills. To choose me over them. But she couldn’t. Addiction is a disease and love and desire are not enough. You need real treatment. Well, as real as we can get here in this world.”

She gave him a loving smile, making his heart feel as if it would burst. “I couldn’t save my mom,” she told him. “But I’m going to save you. We’re going to stop at a hospital. We’re going to let you have a proper detox. Give you time to get well.”

“No!” he protested, fear drilling into him at her words. “You don’t have time for that.”

“I’ll make time,” she insisted.

“But your mission—”

“Don’t you understand? You and the children are as important to me as any mission,” she assured him. “In fact, you’re more important.”

Her words sent chills down his spine and suddenly he was itching again, but this time not for opiates. God, he loved this girl. He didn’t deserve her. But he loved her all the same. Reaching over, he trailed his fingers down her arm, tickling her sensitive skin. She let out a soft gasp, letting him know he was doing something right. Emboldened, he trailed kisses down her jaw while running his hand over her sweet, silken body. Soft curves melting into taut muscles.

“I love you, Peyton,” he whispered against her mouth. “I love you more than anything.”

“I love you too, Chase . . . Chris . . .” She cuddled closer to him, tangling her body into his until he wasn’t sure where he ended and she began. He wanted to lie like this for the rest of his life.

Screw the drugs. He had something much better now. And nothing on Earth was going to make him lose that.

Chapter Thirty-five

Peyton slipped out of her window and onto the tree branch. It was a move she’d done a hundred times before, to meet a friend for a late-night walk or to make out with Drew after midnight. But never had she felt such fear as she jumped down and crept through the bushes and into the street. Her parents would kill her if they knew she was out. Well, maybe not her mom. Ashley Anderson was too zoned out to complain much these days. But her dad… well, her dad had made things very clear.

She didn’t like disobeying him. But at the same time, she didn’t see a way around it. She had to meet the gang. More importantly, she had to see Chris.

She crept down the street, ducking into the shadows as police cruisers passed. It was funny: her neighborhood seemed relatively calm considering the fact that there was a killer plague and monsters on the loose. Of course, the monster thing never made the local news; even now, the government kept a tight clamp down on the information pipeline. But people talked. They knew there was something horrifying out there, something that had killed some of their children. The police claimed they were taking care of it. But rumors of new attacks filtered down the grapevine and everyone was scared. Helpless. They hunkered down in their houses, doors locked, windows barred, waiting to see how it would all play out. Apart from increased police patrols, her suburbanite neighbors were still willing to play by the rules and not go crazy. Unlike the rest of the world, it seemed.

It took her ten minutes to reach Monroeville’s town center, and what she saw was another story altogether from what she’d believed. Sirens screamed and small, scattered fires flickered up and down the street. Men and women ran by, some wearing all black, some wearing masks, others in respirators, but all had their arms full of supplies from stores that had closed and barred their windows and doors. Only the Walmart was still open, actually doing business. But unlike the old, friendly Walmart greeters that used to line the store entrance, now the place was heavily guarded by what appeared to be soldiers. There were trucks coming and going behind it, too.