Part 13 (1/2)

”You're awake,” she remarked. He looked over, surprised that she was sitting beside him, awake herself. His little Florence Nightingale. The moonlight reflected off her ocular implants, and her face was illuminated. He hadn't been lying when he'd said she was beautiful, and he had to fight the urge not to start kissing her all over again, to remind himself that beauty was also a beast.

”Yeah,” he said, stretching his hands over his head. ”Barely.”

”I'm so sorry,” she said. ”I didn't mean...”

He waved her off. ”My fault,” he said. ”I got carried away. Pushed you too far. You were just... you were just saying no-in your own special way.”

She snorted softly. ”That's one way to look at it.”

He wanted to protest, tell her it wasn't his fault-that she had been just too d.a.m.n irresistible, staring at him like that with her beautiful, sweet face, bright from the fire's glow. The way her body had melted against his, the way her mouth had pressed up against his own. He was only human after all.

Feeling warm and cozy, he reached out with his hand, only meaning to squeeze her own. But, to his surprise, she jerked away as if she'd been shocked. He looked at her, questioningly, not sure what he'd done to upset her.

”I think it's best if we just... stay friends from now on,” she said quietly, staring into the fire and refusing to meet his eyes. ”The rest... it was a mistake. A lapse in judgment. After all, I have my mission. I can't afford to be distracted.” She looked over at him. ”And you, Chase Parker, are a big distraction.” And with that p.r.o.nouncement, she rose to her feet and walked quickly into the motel room, closing the door behind her and leaving him alone with the sleeping children.

He stared at the closed door, not sure what had just happened. One moment they'd been cuddling. The next, she'd fled the scene. Hurt and confusion swirled through his brain as he replayed her words over again. A distraction. Was that really all he was to her? A distraction to her real mission? Just getting in the way of what she was after? He scowled. That was cold, even for her.

His mind flashed back to that day in the rain. When she chose her father over him. In a way, he realized, nothing had changed. She was still choosing her father, her Disney destination. And he was only a distraction, once again, to her ultimate end game.

His confusion dipped into anger. Whatever. She didn't want him? That was fine. He wasn't going to chase her anymore. He'd already done that once. He'd already waited in the rain. He'd already suffered his disappointment. He was no longer that boy. He would no longer wait.

She didn't want him? Well, then he didn't want her either.

He grabbed the bottle of pills and popped the cap once again, ready for sleep.

Chapter Twenty-one.

”Dad, Dad!” Peyton cried as she took the bas.e.m.e.nt steps two at a time. ”Dad, are you down here?”

The workshop door swung open and Ian rushed out, looking concerned. He closed and locked it behind him. ”What's wrong, baby?” he asked, studying her. ”What happened?”

She buried her face in his chest, searching for comfort and rea.s.surance from the man who'd sired her. Her mom hadn't been home. ”Oh, Dad, it was awful,” she said, tears filling her eyes. ”I still can't believe it.”

He led her over to the weight bench and sat her down. ”Take a breath,” he instructed. ”Then tell me everything.”

”We went to Mt. Holyoke Hospital,” she said. ”And there were guards with machine guns. They wouldn't let us in. So we snuck around back and looked in the windows. There are so many sick people, Dad,” she said, choking on the lump in her throat. ”The place is overflowing.”

Her dad nodded. ”Yes,” he said. ”This Super Flu is real. And it is a big deal. The government's not going to be able to contain word of it much longer, no matter how they censor the media.” If Peyton didn't know better, she'd think he looked pleased at the idea.

”But that's not the worst of it,” she sniffled. ”There was this... trash compactor, I guess. And we looked inside. And there were bodies. So many bodies.” She broke down again.

Her father pulled her close and she sobbed into his chest. ”Shh,” he said. ”Remember what I told you. When the apocalypse comes, we'll be safe. I've made preparations. Every day I'm making more. We're going to be fine. You're not going to get sick. I can one hundred percent guarantee that.”

She wasn't sure how that was possible, but she was too concerned with the next part of her story to get off track. ”That's not the worst thing,” she said, pulling away and looking her dad in the eye.

He scrunched up his face. ”What do you mean?” He sounded concerned for the first time in their conversation.

She took one deep breath, swallowed, then another. ”There was something else in the trash compactor,” she said. ”Some kind of... I don't know. You're going think I'm crazy.”

He grabbed her shoulders with his hands so hard that she cried out, startled. ”Tell me,” he said, his eyes wide.

She shook her head. ”I don't know exactly. It was like... like... a monster.”

Her father dropped his hands, released her, and turned. ”Where was this again?” he asked. ”Mt. Holyoke?”

Peyton nodded weakly. ”But I don't know if it's a good idea to-”

But her dad was already unlocking the door to his lab and disappearing inside. A moment later he returned, pistol in his hand. Peyton's eyes widened. She'd had no idea her dad even owned a firearm. It certainly wasn't legal. Not after the Firearms Act of '18.

”I'm going to check it out,” he told her. ”You stay here. No matter what happens, do not leave the house until I get back.”

If she'd been scared before, she was petrified now. ”What is it, Dad?” she asked. ”Do you know?”

”No,” Ian said, heading up the stairs. ”But I'm sure as h.e.l.l going to find out.”

”Trey, Trey!” Chris cried, touching his brother on the shoulder, trying to rouse him from his sim-induced torpor. ”I gotta talk to you.”

Trey pulled off his VR goggles and looked at him, annoyed. ”Guy,” he said. ”You know better than to interrupt a man in a sim. I was in the middle of... well, I was in the middle of that sim I loaned you. You never checked it out, and d.a.m.n if you shouldn't be sorry.”

”I am sorry,” Chris said. He sat down on the floor. ”But I gotta tell you something.”

”Something more important than the Paperdoll Ms. March 2030?”

Chris just stared at him. ”You know Mrs. McCormick, right? From down the street?” When Trey nodded, he quickly related her disappearance. ”And I found some other reports, too. So me and Peyton Anderson decided to go check out Mt. Holyoke Hospital to see what was going on.”

Trey looked bored. ”And?”

Chris related the rest of the story. About sneaking around the back of the hospital. The sick people. The dumpster. ”And Peyton thinks she saw some kind of creature like a zombie!”

Trey started laughing.

”I'm serious!” Chris cried, frustrated at his brother's reaction. He should have known.

”I'm so telling Mom to take your media player away,” Trey said, his face full of mirth. ”Those old movies you watch have obviously warped your fragile little mind.”

Chris frowned. ”I'm trying to tell you there's something really wrong going on. People getting sick. And dying. And I think the government is trying to cover it up.”

”You're beginning to sound like Peyton Anderson's dad. Is she like this, too? 'Cause, man, she is kinda hot, but if she's spouting end of the world bull she's likely to be a drag in bed.”

”I don't care about that.” Chris slumped into an armchair, realizing he'd never be able to convince his brother to take him seriously. At least not when he lacked any evidence. ”I just wanted to make sure we're all safe.”