Cruel World(136)

“You mean as weapons,” Collincz said.

“I would assume so, yes,” Holtz said. “What those poor people have become are strong, fast, seemingly remorseless killing machines. The genes encoded by the virus produced proteins that went far beyond reforming normal bone structure, as well as affecting the subject’s humanity, among other things. They would be an expendable and valuable resource in any ground conflict because of their inherent ability to instill fear among an enemy.”

“Holy shit,” Collincz said as she dropped her face into her palm.

“Can you create some kind of anti-virus now that you know what you’re dealing with?” Alice said. “Something that could bring these people back from what they’ve become?”

“Actually, my dear, the term is anti-viral, and unfortunately that would take several months under a full-scale effort by many skilled scientists in a well-equipped lab. And of course we have none of those, not even the time.” Holtz sighed. “In any case, an anti-viral would most likely kill the host.”

“So that’s it. We’re totally f*cked,” Alice said looking around. “Because the damn government wanted a new biological weapon to play with, now we have herds of monsters roaming the country.”

Quinn pulled his gaze from the filmed window and focused on the doctor again.

“They’re moving in the same direction; I’m not sure if you knew that or not,” he said, gauging the doctor’s reaction.

Holtz frowned. “I didn’t.”

“Do you know why that would be?”

“No. They could be forming a new hierarchy and migration pattern to fit their needs. From my tests here, they are susceptible to climate change. They’ll burn. They’ll freeze. So I would guess they will move south when the weather turns cold this fall.”

“Every group we’ve seen in the last five days has been moving northwest,” Quinn said.

“That’s peculiar to say the least,” Holtz replied. “But I don’t have the foggiest what it could mean. The only other factor that’s interesting is the name opposite your father’s,” he said, tapping it once with a fingernail. “Doctor Alex Gregory. He’s a brilliant geneticist, fairly young for his field. I’ve read several of his studies. He was at the forefront of the genetic community. The last I heard, Gregory was working for a private company called Genset.” Holtz looked at him, eyes unwavering. “Genset’s lab headquarters is located in southern Minnesota.”

Quinn let his gaze slide to the floor. The name, there was something about the name. It echoed of memory that was barely out of reach. He strained for it, but it slipped away each time, sliding through the fingers of his mind like smoke. For some reason, the taste of seafood rose with the doctor’s name—Graham’s excellent lobster and shrimp drenched with butter and lemon. The smell of home.

All at once, the memory came rushing back.

He’d been trying to tell his father he was leaving. Teresa’s encouraging looks. The phone ringing. Mallory returning to the dining room. It’s an Alex Gregory for you, sir.

“Oh my God,” Quinn whispered, looking around at all of them. “Oh my God.” He began to tremble, and Alice rose from her spot to kneel beside him, her touch barely registering.

“What is it?”

“He called my dad,” Quinn said, voice thin and reedy. He swallowed. “Alex Gregory called my dad the night he got sick.”





Chapter 28



The Highway Calls



Quinn stared out at the dismal morning, fog rising from the earth like vengeful spirits.

A hand slid into his, and he intertwined his fingers with Alice’s. She stood beside him, but he couldn’t find the courage to look at her.

“You’ll try, right?” She said finally.

“I will. Nothing could keep me from coming back.”

“You won’t run off with the next hot survivalist chick you run into?”

He smiled and turned to her. “No.”

“Better not. Or I’ll hunt you down.”

He leaned in and kissed her, the act so foreign he half expected her to shove him away. She didn’t. She kissed him back, fiercely. When they parted, she looked into his eyes and tugged once on his shirt.

“Go say goodbye to that boy in the other room. He’s going to miss you.”

Ty was playing with Denver on the floor near Holtz’s cot. He was putting a finger on one of the big dog’s front paws and holding it there until Denver playfully snapped at him. Ty laughed and then switched to the other paw. Quinn watched him for a few minutes. He could stay. He could walk back and tell Alice that he didn’t have to go. The past was what it was, unchangeable and now alien. They could carve out a life here, and he could try to forget. He could try.