Cruel World(134)

They woke in the early morning hours, both of them moving sinuously against one another, enjoying the heat and closeness. Pallid light streamed in through the window, the day smothered beneath a blanket of hovering clouds.

“Good morning,” Alice said, nuzzling his neck. Quinn smiled, drawing a fingertip up the small of her back.

“Morning. Did that all happen?”

“Every second.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t—” Quinn waved his free hand. “—hold off more.”

“God, Quinn. For your first time, you were, something else…” she trailed off.

“You’re just being nice.”

“Am I ever ‘just being nice’”?

“No, I guess not.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He fell silent for a while, lying still, looking up at the dingy canvas above them.

“You know, I don’t expect anything for helping you and Ty. I hope—”

“That I didn’t pity-f*ck you?” she asked, raising herself onto an elbow.” No. I didn’t. And don’t ever ask something like that again.”

“Okay. It’s just hard for me to believe because…” he gestured at his face. She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. It was gentle and sweet.

“Believe it.”

They fell silent for a long while, a few raindrops tapping against the roof.

“Alice, I know you’re going to hate me for it, but—”

“You’re leaving anyway, right?”

He shifted, looking her in the eyes. “How’d you know?”

“Because I knew there was no changing your mind last night when you walked out of the room. And because I know I’d do the same thing if it were my father.”

“I would stay, and you don’t know how much I want to, but then it would be like I’m still living behind that fence in Maine. I’d be trapped everyday knowing that he might have had something to do with all this. I’d never be free, not really.”

She nodded against his shoulder. “Everyone I’ve ever cared about has left me,” she whispered. “Everyone but Ty, and I know someday he’ll leave too.”

“I’m coming back,” he said.

“You’ll try.”

“I will.”

There was the sound of movement in the other room, someone stirring in their blankets. They rose from the cot and dressed quietly, Quinn staring at her as she donned her clothes, a sense of disbelief still clinging to the memory of their lovemaking, like some glorious fever-dream. She caught him looking at her and gave him a mock disapproving look. He smiled, and they crept to the plastic barrier and peered through.

Doctor Holtz was sitting on the edge of his cot holding his wallet. He looked up at them and blinked. The sound of his dry tongue rasping across his lips was audible.

“A chimeric virus. That’s how they did it,” he said, slowly nodding.





Chapter 27



The Storm



They gathered around Holtz as if they were half-frozen adventurers stumbling upon a fire.

Collincz woke at the sound of the doctor’s voice and leapt to her feet, straightening her uniform that she’d slept in. Holtz gazed around at them, his movements hesitant and slow.

“How long?” he asked Collincz after she’d handed him a bottle of water. His voice was still rough, but held a sonorous quality tinted with a slight British accent that Quinn was sure would resound powerfully in a lecture hall.

“About thirty-six hours or so.”

The old man nodded and ran his fingers over his wallet again. He began to open it but stopped.

“How many are left?” he said.

“Thomas, Murray, Wexler, and these three that came in from outside yesterday.”

Holtz looked around at them, his eyes hovering on Quinn’s face the longest.

“You’re the one with the paper, aren’t you,” Holtz said after a time. Quinn nodded, coming forward.

“Yes, but how did you know that? You were…”

“I thought it was a dream when I woke up. But now that I see you, I know that it wasn’t. Someone showed me a paper, held it before me?”

“I did,” Collincz said.

“Do you still have it?”