Away From the Sun (27 page)

I pointed the gun to the left until I saw another part of the herd where Amy had been. This time, I nearly dropped the gun as I had to put a hand over my mouth to keep from gagging. There were about twenty greyskins clamoring to get to what was left of Amy’s body. She had almost been completely devoured, and in a few minutes it would be as though she had never existed.
 

When I turned back to Gilbert and the others, I wanted to shout out for help, but I shook my head. Gene and Jerome were already shouting and shooting bullets into the herd of greyskins near the cars as Gilbert hid behind one of the buildings. Immediately, the herd started moving in their direction and they started running toward the building I was on.

I had to get their attention. I had to make sure they didn’t bring them by here. I wasn’t bitten. They needed to go the other way. Remembering the smoke bombs, I reached into the pouch and pulled out three red ones. I lit them each and tossed them to the side. Jerome moved quickly with Gene hobbling behind. And the herd moved with them.

The red smoke was thick, but it didn’t seem as though any of them had seen it. They were so preoccupied with whatever they had to do next. I watched as Gilbert ran toward the cars once the area had mostly cleared. He had to dispatch a few greyskins, but he was free to get out of there now.
 

I looked below me. I had lost Jerome and Gene in the crowd of greyskins. My heart sank when I saw so many surrounding my building. I didn’t think any of them suspected I was on the roof, but they were blocking the streets anyway.

I could see Gilbert stall before getting into the car. He took one last look at the buildings and even from such a long distance, our eyes locked. He had a choice to make, but I didn’t want him to have to make it. He could drive through here and try to distract the greyskins, or he could just leave. With the number of greyskins there were, it would be unlikely that he would make it out unscathed, but I would probably be able to slip away unnoticed.

Or I could do the right thing, and tell him to get out of there. I reached into my pouch and grabbed a few of the yellow smoke bombs. I calmly lit each one and tossed them to the side. The yellow mixed with the red, floating upward into the sun-setting sky.
 

Gilbert watched me for a second, and I could see him wipe his face. I figured it was a tear. I didn’t have to have super hearing to be able to read his lips.
 

“I’m sorry,” he said. He got into the car, started it up, and I never saw Gilbert again.
 

I will always wonder what might have happened if he would have tried to help me. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. If he would have just driven away and waited for me a few hours, we would have been reunited. The greyskins never sensed that I was on the roof of that building. By about midnight, I was able to move quietly down the stairs. I used my new hearing ability to move through the streets like a shadow, avoiding anything that would be able to sense me.
 

I walked the road out of town, going the way we had come, wondering if Gilbert was waiting for me. But he wasn’t there.
 

I figured that he felt so guilty that he left me in the town, that he just kept driving until he ran out of gas. He probably died somewhere that I’ve never heard of.

But it wasn’t as simple as that. It appears that we were even at Crestwood at the same time only a couple of weeks ago. The thought makes me sick. I don’t blame him for leaving. I never have. I miss him. I miss his company. Now I know I will never have it again. But the more I think about it, I’m glad that he left me behind. If he hadn’t, Waverly might not have survived. Gabe might be dead, too. It seems that Gilbert reserved his final act of bravery for the right time.

I don’t know what building I’m in. They all look the same. All I know is that I’m safely on the other side of the last barricade. Thanks to the weapons Ashley and I provided for the town, Samuel and his men haven’t broken through yet. And now that it’s dark, I don’t suspect there will be much fighting. Besides, there are guards stationed all around the barricade, watching for enemy attempts to sneak through. I suspect things will be pretty quiet until morning. It’s hard to tell, though.
 

I walk through the lower section of the building. There are several people lying down in the hallway. Some of them are injured and are being taken care of while others are just trying to get a little sleep before it’s their turn to take watch or until another wave of attacks comes. I can’t help but think that we brought destruction upon these people. If it wasn’t for us, they would have had their meeting with Shadowface and would be receiving benefits instead of shrapnel wounds. But I know the truth. I know that Shadowface will only use them for evil later.
 

At least, this is what I’ve believed for so long. Truth is, I don’t know anything. I know what my father, Jeremiah, has told me. But that doesn’t mean I know the whole truth. My father remains elusive, and I’m not sure why.
 

I can still taste the blood on my tongue. The ability to control someone’s actions will give me all the answers I desire. Can’t I just command my father to tell me everything? Can’t I just
make
him tell me the truth? That’s exactly what I intend to do. But first, I’ve got to find Ashley. She had been bleeding heavily. She’s dying. I want to stop her from trying to find Waverly. It’s over. The blood is gone. We don’t have to try and assassinate Shadowface.
 

As I walk down the hallway, these thoughts float through my head. There is a man standing next to a window, staring out, watching for movement. I stop next to him and ask him if he has seen Ashley. When he gives me a curious look, I describe her.
 

“There have been a lot of people coming through here,” he says. “She very well could have too. You could ask Jeremiah. He’s in that room down the hall.”

“Which room?” I ask, my heart starting to beat faster. I’m not surprised that my father is here in the middle of the action.
 

“Third from the left.”

I nod a thanks to him as I make my way toward the room. Perhaps Ashley was there with him. Or maybe my father has seen her. The door is closed when I reach the room. I knock lightly, and I’m met by an angry voice.
 

“Unless they’re attacking, leave me alone.”

“It’s me,” I say.
 

My father cracks open the door and a puff of cigar smoke wafts out. He stares at me for a long moment. “What do you want?”

“Let me in,” I say.
 

He opens the door wide and motions for me to come through. I don’t know if he was going to let me in anyway or if the new Starborn power just overtook his will. I guess there’s only one way to find out.
 

“Close the door,” I say as I walk into the room. It’s small and windowless. There is a desk in the corner and a few chairs. On the other side of the room there is a couch. It looks like it used to be an office for some pencil pusher that was no doubt depressed after spending years working for someone that didn’t appreciate the work. The greyskin virus was meant for people like this.
 

My father closes the door as I commanded and I walk to the front of the desk and sit down.
 

“It’s good to see that you’re alive,” my father says.
 

“Have you seen Ashley?” I ask.
 

He shakes his head and sits across from me in the pencil pusher’s seat. His chair sits just a little higher than mine. “Not since yesterday.”

I’m sure my disappointment shows, but I don’t care. How could I have lost her? Where was she looking?

“This fight is a mess,” my father says. “Samuel will have this place overrun by tomorrow, I promise you that. Right now he’s just resting his soldiers. He has no reason to hurry.”

“Well,” I say, “I’m afraid Shadowface won’t be getting what he’s looking for.”

“What do you mean?”

“The blood. It’s gone.”

My father’s eyes narrow as he takes a puff on his cigar. “What happened to it?”

I can feel my jaws clench. I feel nervous, but I shouldn’t. I’m the one with the power here. I shouldn’t be afraid of my father. He’s just a normal man. It’s not like he’s a Starborn. Besides, now I can make him do whatever I want. I hate his accusing eyes. I know that he automatically blames me for the blood being gone. Though he wouldn’t be wrong for him to do so, it would be nice for him to seem somewhat surprised.

“I’m going to tell you the truth, and you’ll remain in that chair until I tell you to get up,” I say.
 

He looks confused, but he doesn’t argue.
 

“Also, you must keep your voice down,” I continue. “I don’t want others to hear what we’re talking about.”

Again, he’s confused, but he says nothing.

I take a deep breath and I let the words flow out of me like a fountain. “I drank the blood. I still taste it on my tongue. I can tell you that it is a very powerful tool, and I’m glad Shadowface can’t get his hands on it.”

My father remains calm, though his face is turning red with anger. “Did we not decide that Ashley needed it to get close to Shadowface?” he asks. His civil tone is almost disturbing. “Why did you think it would be all right to take it for yourself? Do you not realize how dangerous that is?”

“I don’t care,” I say.
 

He shakes his head, drawing another long puff on the cigar. “You don’t make it difficult to know what the power is, the way you’re ordering me around.”

“For some reason I get the feeling that you already knew what the power was before we even got here.” I lean forward and set a hand on the desk. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions, and you’re going to tell me the whole truth. You will not lie to me.”

My father grits his teeth at me. It’s almost like he wants to kill me. There’s a hunger in his eyes that seems out of place—or maybe it has always been there.
 

“Who is Shadowface?” I ask.
 

“A woman named Olivia,” my father answers. He almost grimaces as the involuntary words come out of his mouth.

A woman.
That explains why he accidentally said
‘she’
the other day instead of
‘he’
when referring to Shadowface. But I shouldn’t be surprised. My father is a liar.
 

“How do you know Olivia?” I ask.
 

He answers without hesitation. “I met her at work about twenty years ago. I was a young professor, and she was a researcher.”

“Rich?”
 

“Yes. Very rich.”

“Tell me about her.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Is she responsible for the greyskin virus?” I ask.
 

“Partly.”

“What do you mean partly?”

“I am responsible to a degree.”

My mouth drops open and I can feel the color leave me face. What is he saying? How could he be responsible?

“Talk,” I say.
 

“Olivia is a few years older than I,” he says. “When we met, I was a young college professor. She got me interested in the idea of the Starborn. I mean, the notion that they were people—descendants of people—that were from different galaxies. They were people living among us with the potential to do amazing things.

“Olivia was very wealthy and funded many archeological digs for research. On one of the digs, I discovered some texts that proved her theory of the Starborns. And I have been fascinated by them ever since. The more we researched, the more we found that these powers came about when the individual in question was in danger. We talked endlessly about the possibilities.”

“You loved her, didn’t you?” I asked, feeling disgusted.

“Yes.”

I look down at the floor. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. It’s wonderful and terrible at the same time. I’m finally getting the answers to the questions that have plagued my mind for so long, but I don’t necessarily want to know them.
 

“So, you developed the virus for her?”
 

“Eventually, but that came much later,” he says. “We had a falling out after a time, and we didn’t talk again for many years, though I never gave up learning about Starborns.”

“What did you have a falling out over?”

It’s the first time he hesitates in this line of questioning, but he can’t keep himself from answering. “She got pregnant.”

Now I feel sick to my stomach, because I have an idea where he’s going with this.
 

“She didn’t want the child.”

“But you did,” I say.

“I didn’t want to kill it.”

“That’s ironic.”

I wait for a long moment before I get to the next question. I don’t know what to think. What is worse—the fact that for the past three years I’ve been trying to help my father hunt down and kill my mother, or that my mother is, in fact, Shadowface?

The next question is only to confirm what my gut already tells me. “Am I Olivia’s son?”

“Yes,” he says. His voice sounds thick, almost as if he’s remorseful. “Everything went downhill after the pregnancy. We fought. We couldn’t make it work.”

“And you absorbed yourself in work for my entire childhood,” I say bitterly.
 

“Yes,” he says. “I don’t have an excuse. I know I wasn’t a father to you. I didn’t know how to be a father. I regretted it every day, but I also didn’t know how to fix it.”

I shake my head, not wanting to hear anymore about our pitiful situation that some might call a relationship. “Just get on to the part about why you made the virus.”

He clears his throat. “I didn’t see Olivia for a long time until she showed up in my office one day. She talked about how she wanted to get back together for professional reasons. She told me that she had gained an extensive collection of Starborn blood. She thought it best to keep them hidden in my lab.” He nods at me. “One of those is the blood you just drank. She thought it to be the most important until…until she told me that she had discovered the Holy Grail of Starborns. A man gifted with immortality. No disease could harm him. Cancer cells would dissolve in his body. The only thing that could kill him was an outside force. She wanted me to use a virus on him that I had accidentally created while attempting to make a super vaccine. I called it the grey cell virus.”