Frequency (The Frenzy Series Book 3) (9 page)

She nodded, but her watchful eyes tracked my every motion. She thought I was going to hurt her…again.

Tage reluctantly left the two of us alone. He probably figured that if I killed her now it would be a mercy. After she first became Infected I felt unmerciful and selfish, and I wanted to keep her with me as long as I could. Those same feelings washed over me like the water over the falls, only this water didn’t cleanse. It damned.

Mercedes slept. Soft snores from the back of her throat used to annoy me, but now they were a reminder that she was hanging on, that she was alive. Tage had locked me out of her cell, which used to be my cell. He never said it outright, but I was a danger to her. Watching her chest rise and fall, I wondered how we got here. How and why did everything in our already crappy lives fall completely apart? Tage left to look for Roman. He still hadn’t come back home, which wasn’t like him. It had been almost two days.

Neither of us thought he would go into the city to confront his brother, but I didn’t still know what Roman’s ultimate goal was. There was always an end in his mind, and he was ever-striding toward it. No one else could figure it out, though. The man was exhausting.

Cold metal from the chair seeped into my legs and I pushed myself up and climbed the steps to find another blanket. I’d stripped my bed clean to make Mercedes comfortable, but Roman had other blankets. Rifling through one of the hallway closets, Tage called out to me, “Porsch?”

“Up here. Did you find him?”

“No,” Tage answered, now standing beside me. “You cold?”

“It’s chilly down there.”

“No one’s seen him. But something weird happened while I was out checking the forest.”

“What?” I asked, grabbing a quilt and closing the door.

Tage held up a piece of paper. “You got mail.”

“Mail?”

“News from Saul.”

My heart thundered. I dropped the quilt and opened the letter that bore my name.

Porschia,

I’m okay. The most difficult part of the change for me is over. God, I hope you’re better. Pierce told me what was on the darts: belladonna, also called nightshade. It’s poisonous. Maybe not to a night-walker, but he was betting on it hurting you. There’s a cure, though. You have to find willow bark. Chew it. It may take a few days, but you’ll feel better.

Tage grinned and held up a handful of dull, gray bark, freshly torn from a tree trunk. I would have grumbled about him reading my mail, but he did the right thing. I could recognize that now. I took one of the strips from him and began to chew. Disgusting and bitter. Woodsy and too tart. However, if it helped, I’d chew horse manure at this point.

Listen, I’ve learned to block my thoughts, to erect a mental wall. It seems to be working, but there’s more. There are different frequencies when we communicate with people. Those who are close by are clear, and those farther away are fuzzy and sound like static. However, if I project my thoughts to you, we might be able to communicate. So I need you to focus on getting better. Focus on my voice. It will find you. I’ll repeat your name in my mind until you hear me. Every person, every sound, has a distinct frequency. We just have to find ours.

Don’t give up on me. I know Mercedes is with you.
Red clouded my vision and I blinked up at the sky, praying for this agony to stop.
Don’t give up on her. Pierce, Roman’s brother, leads the Infected. He’s insane, but he’s trying to find a cure. Maybe there is one. I have to believe there is. If anyone can find it, you and I can.

Listen for me,

Saul

Tage shoved the leftover bark in his pocket.

“How did you get this?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“Rotter in the forest gave it to me. He was waiting in some sort of makeshift shelter made up of sticks and logs. There were pine needles on the roof and on the floor, covering it like a thick carpet. He was just sitting there. Stood up when he saw me and extended the paper, holding his other arm up to tell me he wouldn’t hurt me. As if he could have.”

“You never know.” The sting from each dart I received was still fresh in my memory.

“Chew the bark, champ. You need to get better.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Roman’s missing. I have a feeling that he’s in the city, but I can’t go in there without you being one hundred percent better. We’ll need speed, strength, and maybe weapons. Roman probably has some stashed around here. Now, we need to handle the rest.”

I nodded. I wanted to help, and if the bark or anything else in this world would help my sister, I would tear the earth apart to get it for her. “I’m going back down with her.”

His lips pursed into a concerned, thin line, a look I saw a lot lately. That line meant he wanted to help; to comfort me and say it would all be okay. He wanted to tell me that Mercedes would be fine and so would I. And I wanted him to tell me this entire fucked up mess was just a dream. I would wake up in my bed across the wall from Mercedes, and then we’d race each other down the stairs to the gardens and throw soil at Ford every time he passed by with water. We’d laugh and giggle, and I’d listen as she talked about the Colony boys and fueled the inextinguishable fire of teenage gossip.

Tage bent down and gathered the quilt in his hands. “I’ll be here. I’m here. I just want you to know that.”

I did. “I know. Thanks, Tage.”

He wrapped the blanket around my shoulders and pulled me to him using the pillowed fabric. I sank into him, reveling in the comforting warmth of his chest. Tage sighed, stroking my long hair with his palm. How was it possible to be so close to someone, yet feel so far away from everyone?

I pulled away and grabbed the edges of the blanket. “Will you check on Maggie for me?”

“I will.”

“Tell her I’ll come over if I get better.”

He smiled. “
When
you get better. Yes. I’ll tell her. And I’ll be back soon.” Lifting his finger up like a parent scolding a child, he ordered, “Chew your bark.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Daddy likes to spank. Be careful, kitten.”

Rolling my eyes, I couldn’t help but smile.
Damn it, Tage.
With each step to the basement, I reminded myself that I needed to focus on Mercedes and on hearing Saul’s voice—his frequency. Maybe he
could
communicate with me. If we found the right frequency…

Saul said that every sound, every person’s voice, had a frequency. He was right. There was a distinct, clear sound for everything: desperation, fear, sadness, hunger, bone-crushing grief. I once thought that the death of someone you loved was the worst thing in the world, but now I knew it wasn’t. The worst sound in the universe was that of a parent losing a child. My father clung to the bars, dropping to his knees when he saw Mercedes locked inside, the blankets over her chest barely rising and falling now. Ford stood beside him trying to be strong, but even his chin trembled as he looked from me to my sister. There was no accusation in them like there should be; only sadness swam in the depths of his eyes, in the downward slope of his frown.

Father cried. Deep, heaving, soul-emptying sobs that filled the room with a sadness so thick, it could swallow a person whole like quicksand and fill them up with all of its pain. I pulled the blanket around me, trying to keep it together. I couldn’t lose it again. Chewing the bitter bark, I blinked toward the ceiling and hoped Tage would be back soon. Father had come to the door only minutes ago, saying he went to visit Maggie and found Tage there helping her. He asked if he could come in and visit me.

I met him at the door and told him it wasn’t me he should visit.

“What happened?” he cried.

Hot tears fell into my mouth as I bit off more bark from the strip and chewed in earnest. Copper tang met bitter pulp. Ford spoke up first. “It was an accident.”

“An accident? What is Mercedes even doing here?” Father looked at me for an answer.

“She was sent to fight Tage. We think the Infected leader wanted to be rid of her, but we don’t know why. Now she’s fighting for her life because I attacked her like a wild animal. It’s no excuse, but I thought she was going to hurt Ford. I wasn’t in my right mind.” Honestly, I haven’t been in my right mind in a long time. I bit her. I almost took too much. I might have taken too much. She teetered on that razor-thin precipice.

Father shook his head in disbelief, staring between the pair of us. His eyes zeroed in on my mouth. “What are you eating?”

“Willow bark.”

“Why?” He pushed himself to his feet, staring at Mercedes.

“The Infected attacked us in the woods the night Saul fell. They shot darts at me and I’ve been sick ever since. Mercedes said the darts’ tips were dipped in poison—belladonna and blood from an Infected.”

Father looked at me closely. “You are so thin, Porschia.” Tears filled his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll survive losing either of you. Despite your mother’s problems, I did love her. That love may have changed as she did, but there’s a part of me that will always love her.”

“I know. I loved her, too.” It didn’t make sense to anyone, let alone me, but I did. I loved my mother.

“She was awful to you. I’d understand if you didn’t.” He wiped his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly and muttering a curse. “I tried to keep her away from you, but I failed.”

I shook my head and stepped toward him. “You didn’t. You are an amazing father and we’re all blessed to have you.”

Ford agreed and Mercedes, still hanging on by a hair’s breadth, lulled her head to the side. Her eyelids were slightly parted, although seeing her eyes was disturbing. The whites were bluish and the vibrant blue of her irises had faded somehow, like her breath.

Tage opened the door and slammed it behind him as he made his way down the steps. “Hey,” he breathed, moving to stand beside me. His warmth was instantly comforting in a situation where there was none to be found.

“Hey,” I answered.

“Thank you for letting me see my daughters and for helping Mrs. Dillinger, Tage.” My father offered Tage his hand and Tage accepted it with a shake and a nod of his head.

“No problem. She’s doing well. Misses you, Porschia.”

Tage looked at my mouth and grinned. I was chewing and he was like a proud peacock, strutting his willow bark plume. He pointed to his pocket where I was sure a fresh batch awaited me. Oh joy.