“So nothing other than they all live in Las Vegas?” asked Felix.
Except that they were all gathered outside Valhalla the night of the fireworks…
Micah ran a hand through his hair thoughtfully. “There is one thing, actually. A similarity in DNA, a strain of chromosomes that might indicate a propensity toward mutation of sorts. I haven’t had time to study it further, but my bet is the answer lies there. I’d have to get back to the lab to know for sure, though.” And his legs twitched beneath him, indicating he wanted to do just that.
“Wait!” I said as he began to rise. They all looked at me and I bit my lip, thinking fast. “Um, what about motive? I mean, maybe if we discover why the Shadows have suddenly decided to begin mass murdering innocents it’ll lead us to how.”
“They’re Shadows,” Chandra snapped. “Do they need a reason?”
“They don’t need it, but they probably have one,” I said, snapping back before turning away from her and addressing the rest of the room. “I mean, even if you’re right and they’re trying to draw me out in the open, it still seems a little extreme. What if it’s a trial run for something else? Something bigger?”
“That’s not how they operate, Olivia,” Warren said, squashing the idea immediately. “Humans are sometimes affected by our paranormal battles, and it’s our job to keep those individuals safe, but the Shadows don’t target groups of people. Otherwise, why not wipe out the entire city? Why not do it years ago?”
I crossed my legs, my foot bobbing impatiently. “You’re operating on the premise that the Shadows seek balance, like you do. What if that’s changed? What if they want a greater influence over the valley? What if the Tulpa wants annihilation?”
Chandra scoffed. “You can’t annihilate an entire city. Without mortals the Shadows would have no one to influence, to carry out their schemes and autosuggestions, to create chaos on their behalf.”
“Not the mortals, Chandra,” I said bitingly. “Us. What if it’s a trial run for us?”
An unsettling silence fell over the room as they each considered my words. Even Warren was listening, eyes fixed on me as if seeing me for the first time.
“I’m just saying if I were-” I was going to say Shadow, but I was half that, and wouldn’t be doing myself any favors reminding them of it. “If I were a Shadow agent and I was going to do something this big, I’d test it first. Make sure it would invade or infect the way I thought it would.”
“Test it on monkeys,” Micah murmured, mind working.
“Test it on mortals,” I corrected, because the whole of the valley had become a part of the Shadows’ experiment. They all were silent after that.
“Maybe we should…” Chandra trailed off, her own gaze far-off and thoughtful.
“Go ahead, Chandra,” Warren said to her.
“I was just thinking maybe we should all give blood samples to Micah. You know, in case it is a biological weapon. Then we can rule out for sure that none of us are…”
Infected. The word she couldn’t speak was on everyone else’s faces. Vanessa and Felix looked at each other. Riddick and Jewell did the same. Warren cleared his throat, and all eyes returned to him as he reluctantly nodded his agreement. “It’s a good idea. Everybody hit the lab so Chandra can take a sample of your blood. I doubt we’ve anything to be worried about, but it’s best to be safe.”
I swallowed hard, realizing what I’d just gotten myself into. If the virus could show up in the blood, then couldn’t the immunity do the same? After all, what was immunity but a sampling of the toxin turned safe? If I gave blood, would it send me into further lockdown? Would biology give up the secret I’d worked so hard to keep?
But if my blood did possess the immunity-and all I had was Regan’s faithless word on that-then I owed it to my troop, and the city, to offer it up. And studying the samples would take time. If Micah hadn’t discovered my immunity himself by morning, I swore I’d tell him myself. But dawn was fast approaching, and Joaquin’s address was flashing like neon in my mind. Warren could lock me up in the sanctuary for as long as it took to find a cure, but I wanted, and needed, to end Joaquin’s contemptible life tonight. Talk about a cure for the world’s ills. So I left the meeting and headed back to my room in preparation for escaping the boneyard one last time.
“That you, Olivia?”
I jumped, automatically feeling at my hip for a weapon that wasn’t there. A chuckle came at me from the darkness, and my heart settled enough to make out the shape of the man coming at me from an adjacent passageway. An orange ember was brought to his lips, flared, then obscured again in a puff of smoke.
“Shit. Hunter.” I put a hand to my chest and inched closer, joining him in the shadows. “What are you doing loitering in the dark?”
“Is that what it looks like I’m doing?” That laugh again, a sound void of humor, then another deep inhalation on his cigarette. I hadn’t even known he smoked. “I’m not loitering in the dark, dear, dear Olivia. I’m reveling in it. I’m bathing in it. Fuck, I’m…I’m one with it.” He motioned widely around him, then leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. He wasn’t bathing in the darkness, I thought, sniffing as I approached him. He was drowning in it…it and the bottle both.
“I thought you were sleeping,” I said, alarmed because Hunter never, ever drank. I’d never learned the reason behind that, but the fact he’d abandoned one of his most stringent personal mores had me biting my lip in worry.
“Sleep?” His head rolled forward on his neck. “Nooo…”
I gingerly tipped up his chin, and saw it wasn’t just drink that kept him from focusing on my face. His eyes looked burned out, like they couldn’t bear letting in another appalling sight, and his breathing was shallow…and reluctant. That’s why I hadn’t sensed him there. He was almost devoid of anything that passed for human life.
“You’re very drunk.”
“You’re very right.”
“C’mon, Hunter,” I said, taking his hands. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“Absolutely. Bed is where I need to be.” He let me shift him to his feet, but his acquiescence was more surrender than agreement. We maneuvered down the hallways, his cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth, the smoke making my eyes sting. Though he was moving his feet, I got the feeling he didn’t care whether he came or went, stayed or left, lived or died. Bone-deep didn’t even begin to describe his fatigue.
“This is it, right?” I asked, steering him to a nondescript door off the top of the Z-shaped barracks.
“Home sweet home,” he agreed, and blew the air out of his nose while dropping his face against the wall. It was as close as I’d ever heard Hunter come to a giggle. He fumbled to get his hand aligned with the palm plate, and nearly fell inward when the door swung open. We stumbled in, and I jumped as a clap of thunder split the room in two and rain began to hammer on the window opposite the door.
A holograph, I thought, sighing. We had the option of programming three-dimensional images onto the walls in our rooms-a green meadow, a streetscape, anything to further personalize our space-but I hadn’t activated the feature in my room, forgetting it even existed until now. A holograph of a soft summer shower might be relaxing, one with light from a far-off street lamp playing over slowly streaking walls, and headlights from cars ferrying souls unlucky enough not to be tucked snugly in bed adding to the comfort and security of being nestled inside.