The Truth is Contagious (The Contagium Series Book 4) (48 page)

I looked over Hayden, who had done the same
with his weapons. We were dirty and disheveled enough to fit the
bill. My heart sped up, beating so fast it pulsed in my ears. I
gripped the knife, afraid it would slip out of my sweaty hand.

The city smelled like fresh rain, and birds
hopped in and out of puddles, fluffing their feathers in the water.
We moved through a ruined building, stopping at the edge of FDR
Drive. Only the East River separated us from them.

Right away we could tell things had
drastically changed on Wards Island. Hayden scanned the island
through the binoculars, hiding behind an upside down taxi.

“The hotel is the only building,” he
whispered. “The rest has been leveled and planted over. There
are…uh, I think cattle.”

“Fuckers,” I said to myself. They had
greenhouses with endless supplies of food
and
sources of
meat and dairy.

“The bridge is gated,” he said as he moved
his eyes down the island. “Three gates that I can see. And people
are there.” He squinted, closing one eye. The sun wasn’t helping.
“Heavily armed. I’m guessing that’s the only way in and out by
foot.”

He stepped around the taxi. I tensed, afraid
he was going to be seen. My breath whooshed out of me. I whirled
around, checking for crazies or zombies. “The north side of the
island where the East River is the thinnest…” he started. “…looks
funny. I think they made it wider. And that bridge is gone.”

“They thought of everything.”

“Seems that way,” Hayden said and lowered the
binoculars. He came back to my side, crouching down. “We need to go
that way,” he said and pointed north. “To see the bridge.”

“Can we do it without being seen?”

“I think so. We’ll just act crazy,
remember?”

I bit my lip. “Let’s go back a block or two
and then come out. Less risk of being seen but more risk of being
eaten.”

Hayden agreed and we slipped back into the
city, grabbing our stashed weapons. We climbed into another
blown-apart high rise that had bits of crumbling walls clinging to
its damaged frame. This time I took the binoculars.

Hayden was right. Three large gates blocked
the bridge to Wards Island. The one closest to the island was a
single layer of chain-link fencing with rolled barbed wire along
the top. Three solar panels were stationed on top of the fence. I
traced my eyes along them, going down to the electric wires that
were woven throughout.

The second fence was made of chain link and
cement. A tank was stationed close to it, and half a dozen men with
large guns walked up and down. The last fence was several yards
away and was a stockade of cars stacked on top of each other, held
in place with thick wire mesh on either side. There was a small
opening in the middle to allow vehicles in and out.

My breath caught in my chest. Zombies were
tethered to it, tied up like dogs. Needless to say, no one was
walking onto Wards Island. I lowered the binoculars, shaking my
head and reported the findings to Hayden.

We were at a loss. How the hell were we gonna
get on that island? There was no way we could walk to it.
Pretending to be lone survivors wasn’t a feasible story either
since it made little sense to venture this far into the city after
seeing it in ruin. I looked through the binoculars one last time
and noticed a marina on the other side of the bridge.

Suddenly, I had an idea. It was a crazy idea,
like everything I seemed to come up with. But it had worked once
before. Would we get lucky enough to have it work again?

“Are they taking the bait?” I asked,
nervously pulling on my braid.

Hayden looked through the scope of his rifle.
“Yes. I’m giving it another minute…or less.”

I inhaled and quickly nodded. It had taken
the rest of the day to carry out our plan but things went as
smoothly as we had hoped. I felt a little guilty, coaxing out the
crazies to use as zombie bait. They were infected, all traces of
humanity gone. But they were still human.

Now their death would mean something, we had
decided. They were going to provide the distraction we needed to
get onto the island. I pulled an arrow from the quiver, rolling it
between my fingers.

“Get ready,” he told me. I put the arrow back
in the quiver and pushed onto my feet, prepared to spring up and
race across FDR Drive and down to the bank of the East River.

Hayden pushed off the car we were hiding
behind. “Go,” he whispered at the same time the shouts filled the
night air. The image of the crazies tearing into the zombies that
were chained to the fence flashed into my mind. The guards would
run down to see what was going on, hopefully distracting them just
long enough for Hayden and I to make our move.

We raced through tall weeds, splashing into
the river. I threw my bow into the old boat and jumped in, grabbing
an oar. I took Hayden’s rifle and moved back. He pushed the boat a
few more feet before getting in himself. I tossed his oar to him
and turned my head to the side, watching the bridge, waiting for
gunshots.

We stuck the oars into the water and a few
frantic seconds went by before we found a rhythm and moved forward.
Come on…shoot the crazies. They couldn’t get through the gates.
Maybe it wasn’t enough of a threat. I turned back to Hayden, only
able to see his black shadow in the dark. He kept his eyes focused
on the glow of the hotel in front of him.

Then they fired. The echoing bangs were like
music to my ears. My arms stopped moving and the boat spun in a
circle. I snapped my attention back to the water and continued to
paddle.

The fire broke out and my heart skipped a
beat. It was a gamble, going back to the warehouse where the truck
was stashed. It cost us half the day and a bit of trouble fighting
our way there and back. But it was worth it. We had coated the
crazies with explosive liquids that ignited from the rapid gun
fire.

They wouldn’t burn for long. Just long enough
for us to make it across the river. I tore my eyes away from the
flames and looked behind me, watching the hotel come closer. When
the shore was just feet away, I dropped my oar and stood, carefully
balancing in the rocking boat. I jumped out, feet splashing in the
water, and dragged the boat onto the shore. We grabbed our weapons,
flipped the boat over in a tangle of weeds and jogged away from the
river, taking shelter under a tree.

We stopped close together, not having to
speak to know what we were each thinking. We were here. On the
island. This was it…there was no walking away from this. We would
either leave successful or not at all.

A large, stone fence surrounded the hotel,
which rose like a fortress in the night. It was beautiful, built to
look like a 1920s grand estate on steroids. I could see how it was
marketed to the rich and famous. And I could see how no one could
afford it.

We pressed forward, not knowing what the hell
we were going to run into. We had a plan, a very vague plan. I
tried to take comfort in that. We continued on, not daring to
relent now. We ran through an overgrown field, past a cluster of
abandoned buildings, and through an empty parking lot.

Only a small lawn lay between us and the
stone fence. It was dotted with trees and not kept up at all. Weeds
and wildflowers had taken over, twisting around the foliage. A path
had been worn through, pushed down from foot traffic. We stopped,
huddled next to a tree while we thought up our next move.

Then she walked through the weeds. Hayden’s
eyes met mine and we jumped into action. I sprang forward, pulling
back an arrow and aiming for her face.

“Relax guys,” the woman said, holding up her
hands. “It’s just me.”

I didn’t let off the arrow. I kept my hold,
creeping closer. “Don’t move,” I said, my voice tight.

“I know, I know,” the woman sighed. “You have
to go by protocol.” She waved her hand in the air. She moved under
a dim solar powered light. “See. Just me, Valencia.”

I took a step closer. The woman’s eyes
widened when she realized I wasn’t who she thought I was. “Oh my
God,” she exclaimed. “Don’t shoot me!” She turned around to run and
let out a yelp when she saw Hayden just feet behind her with a
rifle aimed at her head.

“I’ll scream!” she threatened.

“And I’ll shoot,” I said.

She turned back to me, trembling with fear.
“Please, don’t kill me!”

“I wont,” I told her. “As long as you come
with us.”

Her eyes flicked to the stone fence. Tears
rolled down her face. “Ok. I’ll go.” She took two steps when
something rustled behind her. Hayden whipped around, ready to
fire.

“Mommy!” A young girl skipped out of the
bushes. “I found those white flowers!” She came to a halt, taking
in the sight of Hayden. The flowers fell from her hands. “Mom?”

“It’s ok, Elizabeth,” Valencia called, her
voice wavering. “Come here, baby. This is a drill.”

Fuck. I looked at Hayden. This changed
everything. He shook his head, telling me we couldn’t stop now. We
were already in. Elizabeth took her mom’s hand, staring at me with
curiosity rather than fear. What kind of drills was she used
to?

“I won’t hurt her,” I said when we crossed
the lawn. “I just want to talk.”

Valencia swallowed. “Ok.” She clung onto her
daughter. “Baby,” she said, biting back tears. “I have to talk to
these guys about the drill. Go pick me another flower. There is a
patch of them right over there.” She pointed, her arm trembled. The
girl skipped off, believing her mother about this not being a
serious situation. “Who are you?” she asked, turned her face up to
me. She spun around to look at Hayden and shuddered.

“My name’s Orissa,” I said, not seeing the
point of lying.

“What do you want?”

“Justice,” I spat. Then I shook my head. “We
want safety. And shelter.”

“What are you—wait, where did you come from?
How did you get here?” She looked at her daughter, likely
regretting sending her away.

“Kentucky,” I said. It was our agreed upon
location. Valencia opened her mouth, mirroring the same shock that
Louis had when he found out there were survivors. “A lot of us are
there,” I added.

Valencia shook her head. “That’s not
possible. There’s no one left out there. We…we’re all that
survived.”

I snorted a laugh. “Sorry, sweetie, you’ve
been seriously lied to.”

“No…no, no, no. This isn’t possible. They
went looking. They told us they spent weeks.”

“Did they tell you when they found survivors
they rounded them up and killed them?” Hayden asked, his voice a
low growl.

“No!” she shouted. “They said…they promised
us…”

I lowered my bow. “You really have no idea
what’s going on, do you?”

“Bioterrorists,” she started. “Broke into the
lab and stole a virus…it made everyone mad or killed them. People
from the military saved all the survivors and brought them
here.”

“That’s not what happened,” I said, taking
the arrow off the string. “Sit,” I told her, seeing that she was
close to hysteria already. Valencia was a delicate woman, with her
blonde hair pulled up in a fancy twisted bun. She was wearing a
knee length dress and sparkly sandals and her jewelry cost more
than most people made in a year. I wondered who she had married to
make her worth saving in the eyes of the government.

Valencia was at a loss for words when Hayden
and I were done telling her the truth. She sat on the ground,
pulling at the grass. She kept shaking her head, muttering ‘no’
over and over. She liked thinking that she was part of the group of
underdogs, the last of humanity just barely getting by.

She looked up at me with tears in her eyes.
“I should get back,” she said. “My husband will be looking for
me.”

“Who’s your husband?” I asked, extending a
hand to help her up. I needed Valencia to trust me.

“Robert,” she said, not realizing his first
name meant nothing to me. “He…he’s a scientist.” She burst into
tears. “He created the virus.”

Valencia took the news of being married to a
mass murderer responsible for the genocide of our country better
than I expected. Really, she was in shock. After a few minutes of
hysterical sobs, she muttered over and over that this couldn’t be
right.

“You’re here,” she finally said, snapping her
head up. “So it has to be true, right?”

“I can’t make you trust us,” Hayden said
gently. “But why else would we risk everything coming here?”

She shook her head, wiping at her eyes.
Mascara ran down her cheeks. “Right…right.” Her daughter came over,
giving us each a bouquet of flowers. “If it’s true,” she shook her
head. “It can’t be true. Rob would never…all those people. So many
are dead.” She looked at the flowers her daughter gave her. “My
sister. She lived in Indiana. She had three kids and took care of
our mom.” She started crying again.

“Don’t cry, Mommy,” Elizabeth said. She
looked like a mini version of her mother, wearing designer clothes
that looked odd on a child. Valencia wrapped her arms around her
daughter with a distant look in her eye.

It was one I recognized—the realization of
the truth setting in. Valencia hugged her daughter then stood. “How
can I help?” she asked, looking from me to Hayden.

“We need to talk to Samael,” Hayden said but
didn’t explain further.

Valencia nodded. “He doesn’t come around too
often. But in two days we’re having a dinner party.” She said the
last word as if it was offensive. Now that she knew what life was
like outside the island, a party was embarrassingly frivolous.
“He’ll be there.” She looked me up and down. “You won’t hurt
anyone?”

“Not unless they hurt me first,” I said and
Hayden nodded.

She took a breath. “Come with me.”