Part 21 (1/2)

”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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d,” 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 s.p.a.ce. ”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 gla.s.ses. ”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 bas.e.m.e.nt 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 pa.s.sed 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 p.r.i.c.kling his skin, and no amount of scratching would make it go away.

Peyton s.h.i.+fted 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.