Deadman's Switch & Sunder the Hollow Ones (13 page)

I look up, feeling both surprised and irritated. Ashley was supposed to be watching the streams for anomalies, either on our end or anywhere else she could see.

Together, we head back upstairs and into Tanya's room. She's sitting on the edge of her bed, her back toward the door. Ashley's talking to her while she stuffs a handful of Doritos into her mouth.

“It was so strange,” Tanya says, bits and pieces of chips spraying from her mouth. “It wasn't like I was asleep. I mean, I was, like, sort of aware of stuff happening around me. Like I was in a trance. Hypnotized.”

Four or five empty chip bags litter the floor, along with a couple cans of Red Bull. She takes a swig from another before going on.

“These are
soooo
good,” she croons. “I am so totally starving! I haven't eaten in, like, whole days.” She shakes the empty bag. “Is there any more?”

“You might want to eat something with a little more substance to it than that,” I tell her, though I realize how wrong it is given the circumstances for me to say something like that. Ashley rolls her eyes and shakes her head and mumbles something about me being the house mother. It's an old thing between us. I can't help it.

Tanya turns her head. When she sees me, her eyes widen. She leans away, like she's afraid I'm going to hurt her. “I saw what you did to that woman.”

“I guess you weren't really
aware
of everything, then,” I tell her. “Because if you were, then you'd know she was IU and I
saved
you from her.”

She slowly licks her fingers, her gaze flicking doubtfully between me and Ashley.

“Look,” I say, “nobody's going to hurt you. I promise you that. None of us here, anyway. But there are people out there who want to, so I need you to tell me everything you know and everything you've heard since you were brought here. And you need to be quick about it.”

“Why should I trust—?”

“Tanya,” I say, firmly, “there isn't time, and this isn't a game.”

“Easy, Jessie! You're scaring her.”

I ignore Reggie, irritated at him, too. Kelly and Jake are in the tunnel and what are these guys doing? Sitting around eating chips and telling stories to little Miss Airhead here. “Ashley, who's watching the servers?”

Ash frowns, but she gets up and walks out. Reggie excuses himself and says he's going to watch the tunnel.

After they leave, I turn back to Tanya. “Tell me what you remember.”

She swallows, then nods. “I was telling—Ashley?—that the only other person I saw was that woman you killed.”

“You're talking about the nurse?”

She nods nervously.

“She was already dead, Tanya. She was an Infected Undead.”

She frowns and shakes her head. “No. I remember her talking to me.”

“That was before she died. She worked for Arc and they injected her with something that made her turn IU after. She attacked us when we came back here.”

Tanya raises her hands to her head and frowns. “This is all too confusing. Are we in Gameland? Are they taping us for
Survivalist
?”

“No,” I tell her, struggling to keep my voice steady. She thinks this is a big production. “This is not Gameland. We are not on
Survivalist
. We are on Long Island and unless we can find a way off of it soon, I have a feeling things are going to get a lot worse for us.”

“Oh.” She blinks a few times, glancing down, thinking. She looks almost disappointed. After a moment she crumples the empty bag and reaches for her RB. “FYI, these are so much better cold.”

“FYI, we're in the middle of a shit-hell crisis here!” I tap my foot impatiently.

She wipes her mouth and stares at me. “You don't have to yell.”

“I'm sorry. Go on.”

“That woman—her name was Mabel? She came in during my acting audition. Right in the middle of it. So rude! I got flustered and forgot my lines. I thought for sure I'd lost the part.”

That's right. I remember. She told me she was an aspiring actress. She'd mentioned that to me the day we met on the bus back from Hartford. The day I'd borrowed her Link to ping Kelly. Her day job as a recorder with ArcWare was just a chance to get her foot in the door of Arc Entertainment.

She had been going on and on about this one Player on
Survivalist
, a young zombie that was having a lot of success knocking off the others. The way she'd spoken about him had given me the creeps. I'd pretty much dismissed her as another new age
Survivalist
wingnut. Now I see that she isn't crazy, just a product of Arc's unrelenting entertainment propaganda, a willing participant, a hopeful cog in their Media machine.

“I just stood there like an idiot, gulping air,” Tanya says. “I couldn't remember my lines. The woman flashed her Link to the casting director and the next thing I knew she'd whisked me off in a black car with dark windows. She told me she was a talent scout for Arc. I couldn't help it; I believed her. I was so excited! But then she brought me to this little fishing shack out in the middle of nowhere. She took me down into this basement and I just knew she wasn't who she said she was.”

“She was from Arc all right,” I tell her, “just not a talent scout.”

“I thought she was going to kill me or, like, sell me as a Volunteer. I tried to fight her—you know, but she punched me. In the face!” She touches her cheek and winces, as if it still hurt.

I do better with people than with machines.
That's what Mabel had claimed. What a bullshit liar.

“What kind of person does that?” Tanya asks.

“The kind of person that kills and sells someone as a Volunteer.”

Tanya is stunned by my sudden outrage, at the bitterness in my voice. After a moment, she continues, haltingly. “She tied me up, kept asking me all these questions about that other guy, Kelly. I didn't know who he was. I kept saying, ‘I keep telling you I don't even know who this Kelly person is.' No matter what I said, she wouldn't believe me.”

Tanya looks around, as if expecting Mabel to suddenly appear.

I check my Link impatiently, cursing under my breath that the time seems to be passing both so slowly and so quickly. Forty minutes now since they left. They should be back in another twenty or so. I wish Tanya would just get to the point.

“She kept saying, ‘Don't lie to me, Miss Saroyan. We know you tried to contact him recently.' Except I never did. But then she showed me the ping records on my Link. I didn't even know how his contact information got on there. Except, I guess, now I do.” Her eyes lock on mine, full of hurt and accusation. “I never made the connection until I saw you come into my room the other day. It was you who planted it, not me. I never had anything to do with this!”

“If I'd known then what was going to happen, I never would have asked to borrow your Link. But now we're here, so we need to work together and figure out how to get out.”

She makes a doubtful face, then looks down, away from me. She picks absently at the crumbs on her shirt and eats them.

I soften my voice, hoping to appeal to her. “I know you're just an innocent victim, here. But so are we.”

She sighs. I can see her struggling in her mind whether to believe me or not. Finally, she seems to come to a decision.

“That woman brought me on this little train and into a room just like this one. Then she gave me something that knocked me out. I remember waking up, but in a different room. It had all this equipment in it. And there was, like, this giant scary…thing hanging over me.” She shivers. “It looked like some kind of ancient torture chamber thingy. I couldn't move. I thought I was going to die. I could hear people in the next room over, but I couldn't see them through the glass.”

I try not to show my surprise. Whatever they did to her, they did it in INTERVIEW 1. They did it with that damn guillotine hanging over her. And she was totally conscious the whole time.
What the hell did they do?

“She came in again and gave me a shot of something. I don't know what it was, except that I saw it was green and it burned like a fire inside of me, except I was freezing.”

“Green?”

She nods.

This startles me so much that my legs nearly give out.

“Did they say what it was called?” I ask her. “Any names?”

She frowns. “I remember hearing the woman say something strange.” She taps her forehead and thinks. “It was one of those old-timey words. Gothic, I think. Or gotham. Graphic. I don't know; I can't remember.”

“Not alpha?”

“Alpha? No, definitely not that. She left after that. It seemed like days passed. Sometimes I could hear people talking. Most of the time it was really quiet. A couple times I heard screaming. It scared me. I thought it might be me doing the screaming, but after a while I was sure it wasn't.”

I wonder who it was screaming. Was it me? Ash? One of the guys?

“She finally came in and took me out. I guess whatever they thought was going to happen didn't. I mean, a couple times I thought I might be getting sick, you know, since my body was all achy. Later, she brought me back there to that room. She did something else to me, something different. This time I was on my stomach. I couldn't talk or move. I wanted to tell her to stop, but I couldn't. After that is when I started feeling strange.”

“Strange, how?”

She reaches up and touches the base of her skull. “It was like I was in someone else's body, looking through someone else's eyes and hearing through their ears.” She frowns, then shakes her head. “No, that's not right. It was more like someone else was in my body, pushing me out, taking over control. All I could do was watch. Does that make any sense?”

“None of this makes sense, Tanya,” I tell her.

“Then they put me in a room with that boy, handcuffed me to the bed. I was paralyzed! How was I going to escape? And I kept having these strange thoughts, too, like I was listening to someone speaking inside my head.”

“Voices?” I ask, but before she can answer, my Link pings. It's Reggie.

“It's been an hour,” he tells me. “They should've been back by now.”

“Give them another ten minutes.”

“But—”

“Ten minutes, Reg.” I disconnect and pocket my Link.

“Not voices,” Tanya says. “Whispers inside my head.”

“Whispers?” Suddenly I can't get out of her room fast enough. “Stay here,” I tell her as I jump to my feet. “Don't go anywhere! I'll be right back.”

 

 

I shove the cardkey
into the electronic lock for INTERVIEW 1 and curse when I bang my face into the door because the latch doesn't release fast enough. I try again and see that the card won't slide all the way in. Someone's jammed the lock.

“God damn Jake!”

After I get inside OBSERVATION 1, I pick up a chair and hurl it at the glass. It cracks, but doesn't shatter. It takes me several more tries before I can make a hole big enough to climb through.

“Arc activated my implant, didn't they?” I demand.

Stephen stares at me. He doesn't look surprised at all that I've just broken in to see him.

“The new implants. Tell me about them now!”

“Tell me what you know about Professor Halliwell,” he says in return.

The statement throws me for a moment. I blink stupidly, trying to process it before reaching into the back pocket of my jeans. The laminated ID card is still there from where I'd picked it up off Micah's floor the day we drove down to East Harlem. I pull it out and flip it so I can see the image of the man. Just looking at it sends a bolt of anger through me. I'd never gotten the chance to ask Micah why he had an identification card at his house of the man who killed my father. Now I may never.

“How did you—?”

“We know all about you, Miss
Daniels
. Your whole history.”

I shake my head. “No. No!” I shove the card back into my pocket. “You're not— This isn't going to work. The implants. Arc activated mine, didn't they?”

He chuckles and turns his head away. There's a faint stink of body odor about him.

“Smart girl,” he says. “But also very naïve. Yes, they did. Tried to rush through it. I told them you weren't ready, but they wouldn't listen to me.”

Despite my certainty after hearing Tanya speak, his admission still shocks me. The possibility that the implant might be activated had dawned on me a few days ago, during our escape. Tanya was acting too much like a drone. It wasn't at all like she was drugged. The best explanation I could come up with was that Arc was inside her head. It was a possibility I'd instinctively suppressed.

Until now.

I had good reason not to think it was possible. Past attempts to activate a live person's L.I.N.C. always triggered a strong auto-immune response in the body, resulting in near-instantaneous rejection. An implant can only be permanently activated
after
a person dies. It's the only reason we allow the government to mandate implantation of the devices in the first place. It's what the
Latent
in Latent Individualized Neural Connections means: dormant. Nobody wants them, but it's better than living in a world where the Infected become uncontrollable monsters during an outbreak. Nobody wants that even more.

After listening to Tanya, however, I realized I had to be right. Arc had somehow found a way to neutralize the body's immune response to activation, or at least delay it for a few days. They must've done it to me, and when my body finally rejected the implant, they did it to Tanya. Now her body has rejected it, too.