She laughs harshly, then turns her head and spits. Her spittle is flecked with blood, and I think of the plague. “Did they? I hadn’t noticed.”
“It’s pretty smart,” I say. “Flush us outside, where our options are limited, then dispatch enhanced personnel to finish—”
She’s shaking her head. “We have no options, Ringer. Wonderland. We have to get to Wonderland . . .” She tries to stand. Her knees buckle and she goes down. “Where the fuck are my clothes?”
“Here, take mine. I’ll wear yours.”
For some reason she laughs. “Commando. That’s funny.”
I don’t get it.
I can feel the toxin worm its way into my legs after I pull on her fatigues, and thousands of microscopic bots swarm to neutralize its effects. I hand her my dry shirt, shrug into her wet one.
“The poison doesn’t do anything to you?” she asks.
“I don’t feel anything.”
She rolls her eyes. “I already knew that.”
“I’ll take it from here,” I tell her. “You stay.”
“Like hell.”
“Sullivan, the risk is—”
“I don’t give a shit about your risk.”
“I’m not talking about the risk to the mission. Your risk.”
“That doesn’t matter.” She stands up. This time she stays up. “Where’s my rifle?”
I shake my head. “Didn’t see it.”
“Okay then. What about my gun?”
I take a deep breath. This isn’t going to work. She’s more a liability now than an asset, and she’s never been much of an asset. She’ll slow me down. She might get me killed. I should leave her here. Knock her out if I have to. Screw our deal. Walker’s dead; he must be; there’s no reason Vosch would keep him alive once he’s been downloaded into Wonderland. Which means Sullivan is risking everything for nothing.
I am, too. For something I can’t even put into words. The same something I saw in her eyes that I cannot name. Something that has nothing to do with Vosch or avenging what he’s done to me. It’s more important than that. More solid. But that’s about as close as I can come to describing it.
Something inviolable.
But I don’t say any of that. My mouth comes open and these words come out instead: “You won’t need a weapon, Sullivan. You’ll have me.”
90
I LEAVE HER for a little while. First I make her promise to stay. She’s not interested in making promises; she wants to hear them. So I promise I’ll come back for her.
She seems better when I get back. Her face is still red, but the hives or boils or whatever they were have almost disappeared. She’s not happy about it, but she throws her arm around my neck and leans against me on the way to the command center.
The entire base is eerily quiet. Our footsteps fall like thunder. You’re watching us, I silently tell Vosch. I know you’re watching. Sullivan pushes away when we reach the door.
“How’re you gonna do this?” she demands. “We’ll be burned alive by the toxin.”
“Don’t think so. I just shut off the water main.”
I smash my fist through the steel door and push down the bar on the opposite side. No alarm sounds. No light blinds us. No bullets take us down. The silence is stifling.
Sullivan breathes in my ear, “It’s the waves, Ringer. The power. The water. The plague. You know what’s next. You know what’s coming.”
I nod. “I know.”
We find the bodies in the stairwell that leads to the underground complex. Seven recruits, no blood, and not a scratch on them. Obviously, whoever did this was enhanced. Two of the kids have their heads completely twisted around so they stare up at us, though their bodies are facedown. I hand Sullivan one of their pistols. We pick our way through the pile and continue down. She holds the gun in one hand; the other is clutching my sleeve. She couldn’t see the recruits and didn’t ask what happened or what I saw. She either doesn’t want to know or she figures it doesn’t matter.
Only one thing matters, she said. She’s right. I’m just not sure either one of us can explain what that is.
At the very bottom there is darkness and silence and a hallway even my enhanced eyes cannot see the end of. But I remember where I am. I’ve been here before, beneath the constant glow. This is where Razor found me, rescued me, gave me hope, and then betrayed me.
I stop. Her hand grips my sleeve hard.
“I can’t see a goddamned thing,” Sullivan whispers. “Where’s the green door?”
“You’re standing in front of it.”
I ease her to one side and trot down the hall a dozen yards to get a running start. For all I know, even an enhanced human being can’t bust through that door’s locking mechanism. No choice, though. Halfway to the door, I’ve reached full velocity and nearly don’t have the space to pull up when Sullivan steps in front of me and tries the handle.
The door opens. I slide six feet to a stop. And I’m glad she can’t see the startled expression on my face. She’d laugh.
“They don’t need to lock the door if there’s no power,” she points out. “Wonderland needs juice, right?”
Of course she’s right. I feel stupid for not foreseeing the obvious.
“I understand,” she says, reading my mind. “You’re not used to feeling stupid. Trust me, you get used to it.” She smiles. “Maybe Wonderland has its own dedicated power system—just in case.”