Defiant: Quantic Dreams Book 2 by Elizabeth McLaughlin (reading list txt) 📗

problems with your little plan, though. The first is that if you kill me right now, there’s no glory in it for you. No way for you to show off that you killed the man responsible for endangering the whole shelter.”

“And the second?” He quirked an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes.

“The second is that you’re getting predictable.” I ducked out of his grip and drove my fist toward his face as hard as I could. The punch connected, and I felt a crunch underneath my hand as his nose broke. Just as I hoped, blood spurted from the wound and Gabriel did what every man does. I didn’t look back as I sprinted away. I figured he would be busy holding his face for at least ten seconds and the blood would slow him down for another twenty, maybe thirty. That gave me a window of escape just big enough to turn myself over to the crowds.

“Fuck!” I heard him bellow and smiled to myself. I might have fractured a finger or two in the process, but damn, that felt good. My victory was short-lived as someone from within a crowd spotted me.

“Jacob! You owe us some answers!”

I wiped the blood staining my hand on the back of my pants. “And I’ve got them for you. I’m sorry that this has all been so sudden and confusing. I’m going to ask everyone to return to their rooms. I swear to you I will personally visit each one, but for now I will give you the short version.” The crowd’s shouts died to a murmur. “There has been an outbreak of an unknown type of respiratory virus in the shelter. Thus far we have had three people show symptoms, two of whom are now deceased. Their remains have been removed and quarantined for cremation.”

“Who died?” A young woman made her way from within the crowd to address me. Cold settled in the pit of my stomach as I recognized her. She was Allison’s niece. Jane? Or was it Jessica?

“Out of respect for the families involved, I will not be announcing the names of the dead until their families have given their consent for me to do so. Until then, your votes are still being counted, and I have mobilized the entire medical team to prevent further spread of the virus. I have a request that I’d like you to spread. Any able-bodied man, woman, or person who is willing is needed to assist the medical team. We have few physicians and those who are present are doing their best, but we need help.” To my amazement, five people stepped forward.

“We’ll help.”

“Thank you. Please report to the infirmary. Tell anyone else you see that we’re looking for volunteers. I won’t forget this.” The small group trotted off. “Please, everyone, return to your quarters.” Grumbling and scowling, the crowd gradually dispersed. I grabbed the arm of Allison’s niece. “Hang on. Are you Allison Garvey’s niece? Jessica, right?”

Jessica looked puzzled for a moment, but comprehension dawned on her. “Is she sick?”

“I’m so, so sorry. Your aunt passed away.” God, how did anyone deliver this news tactfully? It felt horrific. Tears welled up in Jessica’s eyes, but she remained stoic.

“Did she suffer?”

“No.” That much I could at least offer her. “She passed in her sleep, late last night.”

She nodded. “Thank you.” She turned to leave but stopped a few feet away. “I voted for you, you know.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Fix this. Make it so my aunt didn’t die for nothing.”

“I’ll do my best.” Another nod, and we parted ways.

Chapter Eleven

It took them a couple of hours to tally all the votes. When I inquired as to the delay, I was informed that Gabriel requested that each vote be counted again. Trying to cheat the system? Or just delaying the result, in case he lost? The whole notion of an election was a tactic in and of itself. Meaningless distraction meant to pull me away from the task at hand and divide the people. Rather than ruminate on whether I would remain leader of the shelter, I spent the time shoring up my room the best I could. The air circulation system had some filtration in it, but it was meant to capture dust and debris, not viruses and bacteria. The Founders had chosen to rely on UV-C sanitization for that. Throw a robot into a room, shut the door, and wait for the all clear. I wish we had more devices with those capabilities at our disposal. As it was, we were going to have to make do with what was available. I didn’t know if the 3D printers could even fabricate a filter fine enough to protect from an airborne virus. Masks were easy. Large-scale industrial filters weren’t. I used the knife of a utility tool to cut a spare blanket I had in half. Then I made small holes in each corner of the fabric. Standing on tiptoe, I unscrewed the grate from the wall and shoved the blanket against the vent. Holding the screws in my teeth, I forced the grating into position and screwed it back into the concrete. It wasn’t a perfect barrier, but now there was more of a chance that viral particles would hit the fabric instead of me.

I still had my emergency supplies, but they were scattered since my fight with Gabriel. I organized and counted what I had. It was little. Too little. I vowed that I would replenish them, but not before everyone else could be supplied similarly. The shelter was going to face a number of shortages in the coming weeks, and I could hardly consider myself an honorable man if I hoarded supplies. When I had finished that task, the clock on the wall informed me I had been working for almost three hours. I stank, I was tired, and I wanted five minutes of peace. I stripped myself off with every intention of grabbing a long shower. That’s when I