Everland(63)

Disbelief and rage flood through me. My knees grow weak. I lean against the counter to steady myself. It was one of my own who sent this virus here. But why? And who? As if reading my mind, the Professor continues.

“We don’t know who sent it, only that it came from Germany with a dire warning that it would potentially be used against England. I was commissioned to create an antidote in the event Germany attacked England.” The Professor lets out an audible breath, appearing reluctant to share more.

I swing my pistol, its barrel aimed at the Professor. “What else do you know?”

The Professor gathers herself and stands, straightening her lab coat. “Immediately, it was apparent the virus was meant to destroy whole populations. Not only cities, but entire countries. After months of research, we were able to isolate and create not only an antidote, but also a vaccine. But the base of the virus was developed with an ingredient so rare that we couldn’t re-create enough. It was impossible to generate enough of the vaccine to protect England with the small sample we had. Just enough to vaccinate a few individuals. Once I knew the vaccine was safe, I began to vaccinate her.” The Professor nods toward the unconscious child. “I knew that it was only a matter of time before the treaty was as worthless as the signatures on it. Peace can only last so long.”

I watch the young girl as her chest rises with each inhalation. “But if she’s vaccinated, why is she showing symptoms?”

The Professor frowns. “Immunity required a series of three doses over fifteen years. Joanna has received only two. She wasn’t scheduled for her next for another three years. Considering how rapidly the population succumbed to the disease, it’s no surprise that she’s showing signs. Without the third shot, she wouldn’t have developed the immunity to entirely resist the virus.” The Professor drops her gaze, a crease deepening between her eyebrows.

I regard the Professor, looking at her from head to toe. “If you had access to the vaccine, then you must have vaccinated yourself, too.”

The Professor shakes her head. “The program was shut down. With England at odds with Germany and the funding for the project dwindling, Parliament was more concerned about defending the country, not some obscure virus that no one had seen before. I was reassigned to study more prevalent biological weapons. Only a small portion of vaccine was developed, but with tensions between England and Germany rising, I wasn’t going to take the chance. I stole the vaccine and used it on her. I didn’t make enough to vaccinate myself before the program closed. The only way I survived the initial outbreak was because lab protocol required we dress in hazmat suits while working with the specimens. Luckily for me, I happened to be in the lab when you bombed London.” Sarcasm laces her voice.

“But there’s a third shot out there that you intended to give her. Where’s the vaccine now? Is it with the antidote?” I ask, the hope in my voice betraying me.

“Everything was destroyed.” The Professor’s voice hardens. “When you bombed London, you not only released the virus, but you destroyed the vaccine along with the cure.”

I holster my gun and step to Joanna’s bedside, scanning the length of the child. “What about the girl? Can you harvest the antibodies from her to develop an antidote?”

The Professor cringes, but joins me at the girl’s bedside. She lifts her daughter’s hand and inspects her fingers. “Her body is starting to succumb to the virus. The antibodies aren’t working. They may have kept the virus at bay, but her immune system is weakening. I could try, but I can’t promise anything.”

“And what about your other children?” I ask, holding back the grin I feel creeping at the corners of my lips.

Her glassy gaze flicks toward me, wide with surprise. “Other … children?” she repeats, her voice trailing off.

I pull the military tags from my pocket and hold them up so that she can read the etching engraved into the metal. The name G. DARLING dangles from the chain before her beautiful eyes.

The Professor gasps. She takes the chain, wraps her fingers around the tags, and holds them close to her chest. “Where did you find these?”

“Let’s just say it appears Joanna is not your only child,” I say.

Tears spill from her eyes, streaking her pink cheeks. “Gwen’s alive?” she asks, searching my face for answers.

Gwen. The last time I saw her she was chasing Pete’s shadow just outside of Everland.

The Professor turns, clutching the tags close. “Only Gwen was old enough to receive all three doses. She is the true Immune, if she survived the bombs.”

Again she appears to search for affirmation of her daughter’s survival in my expression. I give her nothing. My thumb grazes her cheek and she pulls away, clearly disgusted. She is truly beautiful, exquisite, with her soft locks and bright eyes. Perhaps I’ve been looking at her all wrong. Although she embodies everything a mother is, there is something lovely about her. I’ve never received the love of a mother; I never will. However, with humanity on the brink of extinction, perhaps she is more than that.

“What would you say if I offered you a partnership? You and I, together, ruling more than just that measly country my mother controls. No more running from Germany or living in what is left of England. We could be royalty. We could rule the world,” I say.

“Why would I ever align with you?” the Professor asks, her bottom lip trembling.