Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 110757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
The response I get is a hiss, Poe lunging toward me. He’s violent, wild, and aggressive—all signs the new stabilizer failed.
I hate seeing any living thing suffer, but to complete the test, I have to turn Poe’s implant off. We’ve been using the handheld device to switch him on and off frequently because we suspect that switching amplifies the sickness our people—other than me—get from aromium.
“Not what you were hoping for?” Olin asks me from nearby.
“No.”
I push the button and Poe begins convulsing. If anything, the newest compound strain seems to make the rats worse. It’s maddening, and now I’m the highly unqualified leader of this project.
McClain couldn’t get out of bed today. Ellison is back on the job, and she said his body is starting its shutdown process. He won’t return to the lab.
I knew it was coming, but it still hit me like a physical blow. When Marcus and I found McClain living on his own after scouring the island for him, I saw him as a coward who ran from his mistakes. But working with him and getting to know him has shown me he’s also something more. He’s remorseful. If he could fix the events set in motion by his experiments, he would.
Like most people, McClain isn’t all good or all bad. Every time I think about it, my mind wanders to Marcus, who’s been gone for four days now.
Four days of only rudimentary radio check-ins with Nova. He’s surveilling the six Tiders who broke off to fend for themselves, and he’s not doing it alone.
Zara’s with him. That’s what really gutted me. Olin said Marcus set off on his own, but later on the day he left, Zara left a note behind saying she was going with him.
I could claw her eyes out right now. I know she’s making a move on him, and it sickens me. Marcus and I let too much time pass without talking about things, and she’s swooping in like the vulture she is to feast on the remains of what we had.
“So ... is my first job burying the rat?” Olin asks.
He’s my new lab assistant. I didn’t want to be in here alone, and I could use the help. I’m deeply frustrated with our lack of progress, but more determined than ever to step up my efforts.
“We burn them,” I say. “I’ll show you.”
I’m used to the lab’s incinerator, but Olin is intrigued and full of questions. I answer all of them on autopilot, my mind on Marcus and the future of this island.
We have to create a stabilizer. If we can distribute it to the Tiders without them knowing, we’ll be able to reason with at least some of them. I’m weary of watching people here fight each other.
It’s exactly what Whitman wants—to make us think our real enemies are each other. He’s the one we should all be uniting against for what he’s done to us, and to the world we knew.
After incinerating Poe and having a moment of silence for him, I show Olin how to disinfect his enclosure. I’m going to start fresh on a new compound, using more of the flower root than we have been.
“Do you ever think about leaving?” I ask Olin as we work. “Will you just disappear one day?”
He’s an undercover agent for a mainland rebellion group called the Idaho Liberation Front, and he told us he has a communication device hidden on the island that he can use to call for evacuation when he’s ready. His assignment was to gather intelligence on the experiments here.
“Not anytime soon,” he says. “I still have work to do here.”
“What kind of work?”
He pauses. “The ILF wants to get Whitman out of power and restore the states to a democracy. But it’s equally important to rescue people who are being held against their will by the regime.”
I sigh heavily. “Do you ever think about just bouncing?”
That gets me a chuckle. “I did at Rising Tide. But I thought about my parents and sisters every time and stayed. They all died from the virus.”
I turn to focus my full attention on him. “I’m so sorry. How old were you?”
“Fourteen.”
I was nineteen when the virus hit; I can’t imagine still being a kid and losing your entire family.
“How did you survive?”
His lips quirk in a sad smile. “One of my dad’s best friends was a doomsday prepper. He took me in. He’s an ILF leader.”
“Wow. So you lost your family and then had to leave all the people you knew back home to come here. That had to be hard.”
“Yeah. I believe in the cause, though. We all have to be willing to do whatever it takes, you know?”
I go over and hug him. He stiffens at first, but then relaxes.
“Your family would be proud of you,” I say. “I’m proud of you.”