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

“Phoebe.” My voice cracked unexpectedly and I cleared my throat.

“Yeah, it’s me. The virus hasn’t killed me off yet.”

“Hi.”

She looked at me dubiously. “Yes….hi. You doing all right there Jacob?”

I’m still not sure what happened, but all the hardness and nonchalance I had held for the past couple of days broke away. The relief I felt at seeing Phoebe alive and well was overwhelming and I let the tears flow. “Yes. I’m all right. You have no idea how good it is to see you Phoebe.”

She discharged the capsule full of my blood into one of the testing machines and paused as she read the output. “It’s good to see you too. I figured that you hadn’t run off on me. You’re too courageous for that. Plus, you know that if I ever caught you that I’d cut off your balls for it.”

“Hah! That I do.”

“The good news is that your blood tells me that you are healthy as the hypothetical horse. I think we can get you up and moving today. There are crutches and a brace if you’ll be needing them.”

I pushed myself up on my elbows and raised the bed. “What’s the bad news?”

Phoebe turned and took the seat next to my bed. I was starting to feel like a priest of old, laying in my holy chamber while the townsfolk came to confess their sins. “It’s bad, Jacob.” She exhaled deeply and continued. “Ten more dead this morning. Ten. You have no idea how fast this virus burns through people. It’s every hour of every day that I’m losing people. We’ve already lost some of the volunteers you gave us. The strain on the trained medical staff is getting to be a lot. With the loss of Sophia Caruso, my people are getting spooked.”

“How bad is it, toward the end?”

She looked at me. “It is as if people turn into something out of a horror movie. Once the fever begins, we strap them down. It doesn’t matter if they’re still aware of who they are, or where they are. The process is different for everyone, but most lose their personalities to animalistic reactions. They become unbelievably strong, Jacob. I’ve seen a patient almost tear two inch thick restraints from his wrists. I’ve seen what happens when they do manage to get free. I’m starting to think that George has the right idea.”

“Speaking of George, I’d like to talk to you about something. If you have the time.”

“I can make the time. I could use a couple minutes out of there anyway. There’s nothing they can’t handle for the time being.”

Phoebe received the story much the same as Shannon had. She kept her face fairly neutral, thoughtfully considering each part of the story. When I had finished speaking, she only said one thing.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Stall him, but not so obviously that he catches on. I’ve seen what that body can do and he wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who would put his plan in danger. Start arming yourself and your people. Scalpels, sedatives, a heavy rock if you think it would do any good. Don’t go anywhere alone. I’m sure that word of our conversation will reach him soon, if it hasn’t already. If you can get the prep team for the expedition to meet with me one by one, I’ll do my best to make sure we gather supplies for an exodus.”

She scoffed. “You want us to leave the shelter still? I can’t imagine how you’d go about it. Hell, in another week’s time, I’m not sure if there are going to be enough of us left to get out of here.”

“It’s the only way. We have to leave. Staying here will only lead to death or slavery.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

I was allowed to get up and try walking with crutches. The medical folks kept me on a steady diet of painkillers and anti-inflammatories along with a topical anabolic steroid. Supposedly it accelerated muscle regeneration. I was allowed to go wherever I wanted—though I was heavily cautioned to avoid the field hospital—as long as I returned to the infirmary by dusk. With my current rate of progress, the medical team hoped to discharge me back to my room by the end of the week. That was incentive enough for me to follow their orders.

To my surprise, I was largely greeted with friendly faces and open arms. Word of my ordeal had spread throughout the shelter and even those who had been staunchly opposed to my leadership seemed impressed that I had survived the outside world. They told me that I must have someone looking out for me, that I was the luckiest man in the world. Who was I to correct them? Even Gabriel stayed out of my way. I made sure to follow my own rules, never traveling alone in the guise of wanting someone to look after my condition. That ruse would only work for so long. The treatments available to us meant that I really would be ready to return to my normal routine by the end of the week. I took advantage of the excuse to disseminate my plans as widely as I could. Regardless of Gabriel’s self-installation as the leader of the shelter, there were still many people who gave weight to my words.

The virus had devastated the shelter far worse than Phoebe had told me. While I had been exiled the quarantine had been maintained, but a strict curfew and swift punishment of rule breakers had instilled fear into the people. No one was allowed to wander the halls freely at any point; they had to request permission to leave their quarters. If granted one of Gabriel’s supports would appear at their door to supervise their exercising or trip to the mess for food. Side trips were not allowed. While the isolation of sick patients did a decent enough job of slowing the spread, the restriction of information from the field hospital had given