Chapter 22
Idon’t care that all of the Men in Black look exactly the same. I know Winston when I see him. Alongside the Doctor, he was the bogeyman that haunts my dreams. Just like how the Doctor wore his black tie to differentiate himself from the others, Winston is the one with the blood red tie.
I fucking hate him.
We were close. We were so close. We’re in the sub level floor, the door is right there. How did this have to happen? Where did they come from?
There are six of them in total. All of them are pale, with dark hair, wearing the same suits as every one of the goons I’ve dubbed the Men in Black. Like Kristian, they have grey ties. They all have sunglasses.
And they’re all watching us like insects under a microscope.
Was it too much to hope that the two explosives couldn’t have taken this almost-lurker out in particular?
I didn’t want to have to face off against any member of the NRI staff, but seeing Winston stalk into the room, bracketed by two creeps on one side, three on the other, his body oozing satisfaction while his expression remains impassive…
yeah. he’s the last one I wanted to deal with.
I get the feeling that it’s the same for Delilah.
Winston clicks his tongue. “Delilah McLean. I expected your return. When Kristian came to me with your ridiculous plan and warning me that the antidote specialist needed to be relocated…” He sighs. “You got farther than I expected. The state of the building… I assume that’s your handiwork.”
Delilah stays quiet. In solidarity, so does Veronica, but from the way she’s buzzing in place, I get the feeling that she’s seconds away from exploding hearing that Kristian turned on us.
Now, I can’t actually believe anything Winston says. He could be lying. He could’ve taken Delilah’s trustworthy contact and turned him into a traitor after killing him. I wouldn’t put it past him to fuck with Delilah like that.
When she doesn’t answer, he frowns. “Delilah. Step forward. You know what will happen if you disobey.”
Gwen whimpers. It’s the first sound I heard her make, and I can only imagine what they do to her when she disobeys—and how strong of a person she has to be to still be alive after whatever it was that they did do.
I don’t like her. Sorry. I can’t. She could’ve stopped so much suffering by creating the antidote for the survivors left, but for reasons of her own, she didn’t. Still, I can feel empathy for her. She’s obviously been tortured like I was, but for a lot longer than the time I spent with the Doctor.
One of the McLean twins releases her hold on Gwen. Maverick hurries forward to keep the woman from dropping to the cement floor.
“What do you want?”
Winston looks down his nose at her. “I said Delilah. You are not Delilah.”
“I can be for the right price, hot shot.”
My stomach clenches. I did get used to the way the lurkers in the city were affecting my ability. The almost-lurkers like Winston and Delilah and Gwen… they don’t affect me the same way. Mav never did, either. So when I feel like I’m gonna hurl again, I know it’s out of sudden, unexpected fear.
I’m afraid for Veronica. She has to know that the Men in Black are not the sort of people to mess with. Maverick said one thing they didn’t like, Winston nodded at one of the goons, and he snapped Mav’s arm like a toothpick. They’re strong and ruthless and cruel.
Winston lifts his finger, beginning to gesture to one of the three Men in Black on his left.
Delilah shoves Gwen at Maverick, leading him to shoulder her not-so-formidable weight. Before Veronica can stop her, she jumps in front of her twin, standing in between Veronica and Winston.
“Stop. Winston, stop. Leave my sister alone. She has nothing to do with this. She was just helping me bring Gwen out of the NRI. That’s all.”
Winston sniffs, telling the entire room that he knows that Delilah is full of shit.
He gives her a pass, though, and drops his hand. Delilah relaxes slightly as Veronica glares from behind her shades at the Men in Black.
“Why do you think that I’ll let you take the antidote specialist off of NRI premises?”
“Because it’s not right.” Delilah flings her arm out, gesturing at Gwen. “Consantly torturing Gwen because she doesn’t want to work for Project Phoenix any more… it’s not right.”
Winston cocks his head. “She has an answer that we need. If she gives it to me, I have orders to let her go.”
From the Doctor? Good luck, asshole, before your precious Doctor is sitting in his office with a hole in his heart. True, the only two who know that are me and Maverick, but damn does that feel good even as I keep my trap shut, unwilling to draw Winston’s attention over to me.
No worries about that. Delilah has all of it as she laughs.
It’s a hollow sort of chuckle as she shakes her head.
“No, you won’t. When you finally get what you want…
because I know you, Winston, and you’ll do whatever it takes to get what you want…
you’ll throw Gwen away. Or the Doctor will order her sent to him so he can play with her some more.
Don’t deny it. I am Delilah McLean. I spent nine years working here.
I know what you do. I know what you’re capable of. All of you.”
Winston shrugs. “Loyalty is a small price to pay for securing the future.” He takes a step toward Delilah.
“You are no longer loyal, Delilah. I was told that you came back to grovel for your position. If it wasn’t for my…
chat with Kristian, I might have believed you.
But I don’t. Your services are no longer required. ”
“So what?” calls out Veronica. Delilah lifts her hands, gesturing for her twin to stay quiet, but Veronica refuses. “We get to go?”
Winston straighten his tie. “I’m sorry. Did I give that impression? Oh. No. Project Phoenix is classified. We don’t just strip you of your badges when you’re dismissed.”
He doesn’t have to say what it is that they do. It’s obvious.
Yup. We’re gonna die, aren’t we?
The pleasant way that Winston says, “Bring me the antidote specialist,” makes me sure of it.
Especially when both Delilah and Veronica shake their heads in unison.
Gwen is now moaning, clinging to Maverick, and I’ve noticed that he’s started to edge her toward the door.
It’s risky. I have no doubt in my mind that Winston is aware of his every move, but because he’s enjoying himself, playing with Delilah in particular, he’s letting Maverick think he can escape with Gwen.
“I don’t know why you’re being so difficult. She won’t talk. She won’t tell you the formula. If we couldn’t make her do it, what makes you think that you will?”
“We’ll keep her safe. We won’t hurt her. In time, she’ll trust us, and she’ll help us.”
“Keep her safe,” echoes Winston, pursing his lips. “Where? At Camp Sunnyside in Mahwah, New Jersey?”
Veronica stumbles a few steps back, stunned.
“Oh, yes. We know all about your little playground. Now gives us back the antidote specialist, and leave Delilah with us, and we’ll let you play pretend, Veronica. We have more important matters to deal with as we perfect PP-58.”
58? What the hell happened to PP-57?
No. There can’t be any more Injections. I don’t even know what they could do, but if the NRI needs more test subjects, they’re going to come after survivors. It won’t only be lurkers that threaten our safety. The almost-lurkers, the monsters that have ruined everything… they’ll come after us.
And they know where Veronica’s camp is.
Veronica has gone so pale, she actually looks just like her twin. She opens her mouth, but when Delilah gestures for her to stay quiet this time, she listens. She hangs back, hugging herself as her twin takes a few pointed steps toward Winston.
“We won’t give you Gwen,” she says softly. “And you can’t have me, either.”
There’s that “insect under a magnifying glass” look from Winston again. “Do you really think you can get away from us, Delilah? From all of us?”
Delilah lifts her voice. “Vee? Make sure Gwen gets out of here. Now.”
“What?” Veronica jolts in place.
“Go.”
“No… not without you.”
“I’m sorry. For Jules. For Linday. For the Injection…
I’m so fucking sorry.” Delilah turns to look at her sister.
For the first time ever, I watch as she takes off her sunglasses in my presence.
Just like I knew, her eyes are entirely black—and there are tears spilling over the edge. “Go, Vee. The camp needs you.”
What is going on? Delilah just said that she wasn’t staying, but I get the vibe that Winston… he could grab her. He could order his goons to hold her. He doesn’t want that. He’ll get far more perverse pleasure, forcing Delilah to give in and hand herself over.
But she won’t. I’ve gotten to know both Delilah and Veronica well enough to understand that. She won’t give in—
“Come over here, Dee. We can get away. Come on.”
“Get away,” mocks Winston. “You’ll never escape us.”
He’s right. And that’s precisely why he made sure to shatter Veronica’s perception of safety by casually namedropping the camp.
He could’ve come after us at any time, but he didn’t.
He waited for this exact moment to let both Veronica and Delilah—and me and Mav—to know that safety… it’s an illusion.
They’re stronger than us. They’re faster.
They can hunt in the daylight. They’re even worse than lurkers.
Lurkers feed because the Injection made them perpetually starving.
But the Men in Black at the Nri and their precious scientists?
They did this to all of us because they could.
Because no one stopped them. Because they don’t believe that silly things like laws and rules or ethics mean anything to them if they don’t want them to.
If, by some luck, we manage to leave this room without any of the six of them lunging forward and snapping our necks, we’d spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders for them. What kind of living is that? I’m surviving, yes, but I also want to live.
I do.
Delilah doesn’t.
“Dee… come on. I need you.”
“And I need to do this.”
Delilah dips her hand in the pocket of her slacks. I can’t see what she pulls out of it, only that it’s small, even smaller than the lighters we all carry. With her other hand, she tugs up her loose blouse, pushing the edge of the lab coat so that we can all see the item taped to her belly.
I don’t know what it is at first. The IEDs that Maverick is so proud of don’t look anything like that metal contraption with slim wires sticking out of it that’s attached to Delilah’s midsection.
I don’t know what it is—but Maverick does.
Letting Gwen fall in front of the open doorway that leads to the ladder, he yells one word at me—Run—before throwing his arms around Veronica, dragging her as far back as he can.
“Get her,” snaps Winston, pointing at Delilah.
The Men in Black are fast.
A suicidal almost-lurker who regrets the part she has to play in this dystopian world, and who loves her twin enough to make sure she can get to safety with humanity’s only hope… when it comes to pressing a button, they’re way faster.
And as I hit the deck, dropping low alongside Maverick as he yanks Veronica down with him, the contained blast is loud enough that it blows out my hearing completely. Even so, I’ll swear to the day that I day that the last word out of Delilah McLean’s mouth was her twin’s sister’s name.
I sure as hell know that, when the fire dies and the four of us are left covered in soot, gore, and multiple cuts from the metal shards flying at us, the first thing I can hear again is Veronica’s pained howl.
“Delilah!”