Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Laundromat
The guy’s faces remain unchanged, while the croaks of frogs amplify in the cabin’s silence. As if stirred to action by a sudden thought, Leon waves his arms, shaking his head with an unusual high-pitched laugh. “Whoa! What do you mean, you’re the cure?!”
“The guy who created the problem was the same guy working on the remedy.” The words leave a bitter taste in my mouth as I divulge the secret.
Atlas’s brows scrunch. “How do you know this?”
“Because it was my fathers who discovered it. The Eve Project. It was an unauthorised, unethical experiment. This guy caused the phenomenon, and created a cure, but withheld it.”
The way they’re looking at me, with their lowered brows and crossed arms, I’m not sure they believe the words coming out of my mouth.
“Why? Why would they withhold it?” Zeke says, combing his fingers into his hair and gripping his head.
“To monopolise it. He could have produced and released the cure publicly, but he didn’t. It was withheld to ensure that an entire generation was desperate. We figured they were trying to turn it into long-term medication, so there was a … dependency.”
“Like, a lifelong subscription for everyone who wanted it?” Leon says.
“Exactly. Yeah, so that’s what I am. I am the result of the Eve Project.”
“Are you human?” Zeke blurts, a glint of fear in his widened blue eyes.
“Yes, Zeke.” I roll my eyes. “I’m very human. The egg I was created from was artificially designed, and grew in an artificial womb. Other than that, I am as normal as any other woman. It’s my eggs. They have altered X chromosomes.”
Leon drums against the table, with a curl to his lip. The almost-smile hints at his disbelief. “So … this guy. The scientist? Why has the cure not been released? Why are you here?”
“My fathers found me. They broke into the complex, ready to apprehend him, but by the time they reached him, he had shot his team and was destroying the evidence—which included me. He was ready to kill me.”
“But why?” Zeke asks.
Leon squints. “Because if he couldn’t have control, no one else could?”
I nod with a curl of my lip.
The guys’ body language is changing; they’re moving away from me. Their brows press together, and when Atlas crosses his arms, it confirms I’m not imagining it—the distrust.
Atlas says, “So, why can’t we take you to another scientist? Get this sorted out? Why is this still a secret?”
“My fathers presented their evidence to President Gibson, but it turns out … he was funding it. The government released and protected the scientist, while blacklisting my fathers, who exposed it to the world leaders—and that was the beginning of the Lost War.”
They sit there stunned, in complete disbelief. I give them time to rationalise the truth and discover the deceit, which is enough to kill faith in anything.
“I guess that settles it,” Leon says, standing and waving for Atlas and Zeke to join him. “Give us a second, Everlee. We’ll be right back.”
While I watch them slink from the cabin, there’s instant doubt in my mind.
What the hell are they doing? My skin itches as I wait, my brain spiralling down a dark rabbit hole.
It’s like the day we met all over again—them whispering together, leaving me to wonder what they’re plotting.
I feel cheated as I sit alone, questioning my severe lapse in judgement.
I tuck my face into my palms when the door handle turns.
Hearing them approach, I lift my head to find them standing side by side.
“I’m sorry,” Leon says. “It was official club business, but I promise you that’s the last of it.”
Atlas smirks. “We took a vote.”
“And it was unanimous,” Zeke says.
I glare at them with widened eyes as they all drop to one knee.
“We have relinquished our duty to the Renegades,” Leon says as they hold their hands over their chests.
“We want to pledge our allegiance to a new cause with our new brother, Club Clade.” He leans back, whispering to the other guys, “Club Clade? Is that what we’re going with?
It doesn’t sound as good as it did outside.
” He clears his throat as he begins again, “Club Clade, or a better name to be decided at a later date. We pledge our allegiance to you and whatever plan you have.”
I squint with the swell of my smile and take a knee to join them, lifting my hand over my heart. “And I, Everlee Clade, pledge myself to you three, my brothers. I promise to protect you and help, as you have to me.” The words leave my lips so purposefully that tears threaten to fall.
Leon lunges forward, pulling me in for a hug, and I bury my face in his chest as Atlas and Zeke’s arms rest around me.
For all the loss I’ve suffered, I’m comforted by what I’ve found.
My eyes sting when I wake. I can cope with the lumpy mattress, the crackling snores, but oh my God—the frogs!
A noise so alien, I barely got a moment’s rest. If I never hear another ribbit again, it will be too soon.
I rise from the bed, attempting to silence the squealing springs, but it must be early if I am the first one awake.
I tiptoe barefoot, grabbing Atlas’s jacket, ready to sew up its seam with thread.
Locks line the edge of the front door. Any attempt to open one of those will wake the guys, so I edge towards the sash window, offering a more muted exit as I slowly lift it before climbing through.
My soles feel every blade of grass tickling beneath me, and the scent of dew rises, still cool from the night.
We laid our damp clothes on the bikes, so I press my fingers against them, and they’re almost dry.
The guy’s denim cut-offs are waiting for the sunrise to finish them.
I walk along the lake’s shore with a smile as I stretch my toes upon the mud, not having done it since I was a child.
The narrow trunk of a fallen tree invites me to sit while the midnight ceiling scrolls away, with a teal sky rising from the horizon, where copper clouds glow above the sun’s approach.
Sitting in dawn’s cool light, I catch my first sunrise since I left home, reminding me how my mind-bending life is nothing before the splendour and scale of the universe.
It’s the humble nudge I need to remind me of the day ahead and how much is out of my control, because I’m sick to death of arguing with the possibilities in my mind.
As for Joey, the hurt still haunts me, bringing a sickness to my stomach, but I don’t know…
It feels like the doom has lifted? I can live a life without him.
I don’t want to, but I can. I no longer remember only the day he was taken; I reminisce about our good times.
The laughing. The dancing. The terrible jokes.
The trying to pass song lyrics for meaningful quotes.
I imagine him beside me like we are at the bar, and it’s annoying how well he would get on with Leon, sharing his passion for music.
Zeke matches his excitement levels over mechanics or absolutely anything else, and then there’s Atlas…
Well, Joey would revel in the challenge of making him laugh, at least. I look down at his ring, sitting beside my tiny tattoo, as I needle the thread through the denim of Atlas’s jacket, pulling the seams tight.
And I tell myself, surely I will see him again. I have to.
Since those flavour-filled meals at Mama Cooper’s, my appetite has returned with a vengeance.
I sneak back into the cabin by climbing through the window frame to find the guys awake.
They sit around the table, yawning, stretching, and snickering at my feeble attempt not to wake them.
My efforts at sewing are basic, but it’s a pleasure to see Atlas smiling as he takes the jacket from me.
He is mixing us some breakfast of fruit and oats, and it’s nice to be eating fresh food again, with the zing of the apple slices offering a sweet sugar rush.
We pack up the cabin, arming ourselves and preparing the bikes before we head over the border.
Leon rolls a cigarette while perched on his bike.
“So, we’re a few hours from South Dakota.
We’ll pull over. Check in. And see what they want to do.
” He takes lengthy inhales, while Atlas and Zeke grumble about the frogs’ song throughout the night.
I try to stay optimistic, watching the hypnotic exhales of Leon’s breath as it escapes into the air.
“You okay, kid?” he asks, breaking my stillness. I nod, keeping myself to myself, but he now knows me better than that. “Whatever happens, we’ll handle it.” He smiles, offering me a handgun. “This one’s yours now. We figured you might as well be armed.”
I feel strangely honoured. It’s confirmation that I am no longer their assignment, but one of them. I smirk as I take it, bouncing it in my palm, feeling its weight before tucking it into the band of my jeans.
We accelerate away, and I wrap my arms around Leon a little tighter than usual while resting my head on his back.
My face fuses with his jacket as the landscape rolls by, with rising anticipation rippling through my body.
When we cross the border, the bike slows, and as I sit back from him, he holds his hand over mine, squeezing it gently.
We walk the bikes into an abandoned warehouse, staying out of sight.
With the absent Perspex roof panes, the light rays beam within, feeding the nature that has taken hold over the crumbled cement floor, sprouting carpets of mossy green.
Ivy climbs the sandstone brick walls and escapes to the shining sun.
I flinch when Atlas sweeps the scraps of metal from the sturdy workbenches, letting them hit the floor before we sit atop them.
Leon removes the phone from his pocket and taps in numbers, while I sit cross-legged, holding my breath with the dial tones.
“Foxtrot, Alpha, Uniform, Lima, Kilo, November, Echo, Romeo,” he says.