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Pascao wants to explain himself further, like he’s frustrated that he doesn’t know how to put his answer into the right words. But I understand him already. I shake my head and stare out toward the Lake sector, remembering June’s brother. “Yeah. Me too.”
After a while, we finally head back inside the hospital. I take off the suit and change back into my own clothes. Plan’s supposed to kick into effect starting with Anden’s surrender announcement. After that, it’s all one day at a time. Anything could change.
While Pascao heads off to get some rest, I retrace my steps down the hall and back toward Eden’s room, wondering if the lab teams have sent up any new results for us to look at. As if they’ve read my mind, I see a few of them clustered outside Eden’s door when I arrive. They’re talking in hushed tones. The serenity I’d felt during our brief night run fades away.
“What is it?” I ask. I can already see the tension in their eyes. My chest knots up at the sight. “Tell me what’s happened.”
From behind the clear plastic of his hood, one of the lab techs tells me, “We received some data from the Antarctican lab team. We think we’ve managed to synthesize something from your brother’s blood that can almost act as a cure. It’s working—to a degree.”
A cure! A rush of energy courses through me, leaving me dizzy with relief. I can’t help letting a smile spill onto my face. “Have you told the Elector yet? Does it work? Can we start using it on Tess?”
The lab tech stops me before I can go on. “Almost act as a cure, Day,” he repeats.
“What do you mean?”
“The Antarctican team confirmed that the virus has likely mutated from the original one Eden developed immunity to, or that it may have combined its genome with another genome along the way. Your brother’s T cells have the ability to shift along with this aggressive virus; in our samples, one of the cures we’ve developed seems to work partially—”
“So I can understand you,” I say impatiently.
The lab tech scowls at me, as if I might infect him with my attitude. “We’re missing something,” he says with an indignant sigh. “We’re missing a component.”
“What do you mean, you’re missing something?” I demand. “What are you missing?”
“Somewhere along the way, the virus that’s causing our current outbreaks mutated from its original Republic plague virus and combined with another virus. There’s something missing along the way, as a result. We think it may have mutated in the Colonies, perhaps quite a while ago. Months ago, even.”
My heart sinks as I realize what they’re trying to tell me. “Does that mean the cure won’t work yet?”
“It’s not only that the cure won’t work yet. It’s that we don’t know if we can ever get it to work. Eden’s not Patient Zero for this thing.” The lab tech sighs again. “And unless we can find the person who this new virus mutated from, I’m not sure we’ll ever create a cure.”
I AWAKE TO THE SOUND OF A SIREN WAILING ACROSS our apartment complex. It’s the air raid alarm. For a second, I’m back in Denver, sitting with Day at a little lantern-lit café while sleet falls all around us, listening to him tell me that he’s dying. I’m back in the panicked, chaotic streets as the siren shrieks at us—we’re holding hands, running for shelter, terrified.
Gradually, my room fades into reality and the siren wails on. My heart begins to pound. I jump out of bed, pause to comfort a whining Ollie, then rush to turn on my screen. News headlines blare out, fighting with the siren—and running along the bottom of the screen is an angry, red warning.
SEEK COVER
I scan the headlines.
ENEMY AIRSHIPS APPROACHING LOS ANGELES’S LIMITS
ALL TROOPS TO REPORT TO THEIR LOCAL
HEADQUARTERS
ELECTOR PRIMO TO MAKE EMERGENCY ANNOUNCEMENT
They’d predicted that the Colonies would still take three more days before making a move on Los Angeles. It looks like they’re ahead of schedule and preparing for the end of the three-day ceasefire, which means we need to put our plan ahead of schedule. I cover my ears from the siren, rush over to the balcony, and look out at the horizon. The morning light is still weak, and the cloudy sky makes it difficult for me to see properly, but even so, the dots lining up above California’s mountain skyline are unmistakable. My breath catches in my throat.
Airships. Colonies, African—I can’t quite tell from this distance, but there is no mistaking the fact that they are not Republic ships. Based on their position and speed, they will be hovering right over central Los Angeles before the hour’s over. I click my mike on, then rush into the closet to throw on some clothes. If Anden’s preparing to make an announcement soon, then it will undoubtedly be the surrender. And if that’s the case, I’ll need to join Day and the Patriots as quickly as I can. A fake surrender will only work for so long before it turns into a real one.
“Where are you guys?” I shout when Day comes onto the line.
His voice sounds as urgent as mine. The echo of the siren sounds out from his side too. “Eden’s hospital room. You see the ships?”
I glance again at the horizon before lacing up my boots. “Yes. I’m in. I’ll be there soon.”
“Watch the sky. Stay safe.” He hesitates for two seconds. “And hurry. We’ve got a problem.” Then our call cuts off, and I’m out the door with Ollie close at my side, galloping like the wind.
