Razor Girl (28 page)

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Authors: Marianne Mancusi

BOOK: Razor Girl
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Or that they’d make it to Disney. Her dad would be waiting with a cure. She would never, ever have to make the decision to put a bullet into the man she loved.

It was raining the day they packed to leave. It wasn’t just drizzling, but hurricane-like downpours, gushing buckets of water down on their heads and worse, their supplies. Trey tied everything under tarps and shoved suitcases into garbage bags, but water damage was inevitable.

“What do you girls think, you’re going to Europe for the month?” Trey scolded as he shoved suitcase after suitcase in the ancient Ford E-Series van they’d bought off a black market dealer for three hundred bucks. It barely ran, spilling out black goo and blacker smoke each time you turned on the engine. But it wasn’t a Smart Car, so it wasn’t trackable. Trey wasn’t taking any chances with the food they’d begged, borrowed and stolen.

Thank God they had a sim Boy Scout like him leading things. After spending years of his life in rather unpractical role-playing fantasy sims, Chris had very little clue about real-life survival. But Trey was taking care of everything. He calculated food, supplies, even the number of people who could join them. Ten. Any more, he said, and there would be too many empty stomachs and too many fights.

“Oh no, here comes another one,” Chris said, pointing through the rain to a hooded individual running up the path. Ever since the kids in school found out they were skipping town, they’d had visitors up the ying-yang. Everyone wanted
to escape, and they were willing to trade fancy, high-end sim decks, mom’s jewelry—anything to strike a deal.

“Useless,” Trey would say. “What good will a sim deck be when there’s no power, no Web?”

The figure approached, stepping under the awning where Trey and Chris were standing, pulled off her hood and looked up at Trey with big doe eyes. Anna Simmons. This ought to be interesting.

“Trey!” she cried. “I can’t believe you were going to leave without me.”

Trey looked down at her. And Chris could see the debate in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Anna,” he said. “We’re full. We can only take ten. You said you weren’t coming, and just because Richard broke up with you….”

Chris was surprised. Surely Trey would bend when it came to Anna, the girl he was crazy about. But, no. As she continued to beg, he continued to shake his head. He had a plan, and damn it, he’d be sticking to it. Either that or he was still a bit sore about the whole Richard thing…

“What if someone doesn’t show?” Anna tried. “I only see nine of you.”

Oh, no she didn’t. “Molly’s on her way,” Chris interrupted. “She’ll be here any minute.” He glanced at his watch. They’d all switched to old-fashioned types that only told the time and didn’t have standard GPS. If he’d set it correctly, Molly was fifteen minutes late. Trey was going to be pissed.

Sure enough, Trey shot him a look. “Are you sure she’s coming?” he asked. “ ’Cause it’s not fair to save a spot if she’s not.”

Chris pushed nagging doubts to the back of his mind. Even though he hadn’t heard from Molly after last night, when Tara was murdered, that didn’t mean she’d changed her mind. It was just hard for her to get in touch, with her dad being all strict and everything. She’d said she would be here. She’d promised and sealed it with a kiss.

   

“Yes,” he said, trying to sound as confident as he could. “She’ll be here.”

“Then I’m sorry, Anna,” Trey said with a regretful shrug. “I’ve got nothing left. Maybe try Drew. I think him and his buddies are heading south sometime this week.”

Tears splashed down Anna’s cheeks, mixing with raindrops. “Please,” she begged. “I’m scared and I don’t want to die.”

Trey’s face softened. “We leave at ten,” he said. “If Molly doesn’t show by then, you can have her spot.”

“No!” Chris cried. “Dude, she’ll show!”

“Fine,” Trey said, looking annoyed. “Like I said, if she does, she’s in. First come, first served, and all that. But if she doesn’t, then there’s no reason to deny Anna the spot—is there?”

Chris knew his brother had a point, as much as he was loath to admit it. He glanced at his watch again, fear gripping his heart. Where was she? Why wasn’t she here? Had something happened?

“Hey, Chris, can you give me a hand with this?” cried Bill, attempting to lift a heavy box into the van. Chris ran over to help, trying to force the worry out of his brain.

She’d come. She’d promised, after all. And he trusted her with everything he was.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe we’re actually here.”

Molly and Chase pulled up on their motorcycles—gifts from the Hive council that had made the last of the trip fly by—in front of the main entrance to Disney. The turnstiles, once manned by militant cast members who denied admission to anyone without the requisite pass, stood as harmless sentinels, suits of armor without soldiers, ineffective guardians to the gates of the kingdom. Beyond? There was an old abandoned railroad station where, once upon a time, a train would pick up passengers and circle the perimeter of the park for those disinclined to walk. Beyond that? The Magic Kingdom itself. Once the happiest place on Earth. Now perhaps not happy, but one of its last refuges.

Molly slid off her motorcycle, engaged the kickstand and walked over to the turnstiles. She ran her hand along the smooth chrome then turned back to Chase. “I’m so nervous,” she admitted. “Everything’s come down to this.”

He dismounted his own bike and approached. Put his arms around her and squeezed tight. “No matter what happens,” he whispered in her ear, “I love you.”

His words sent chills down her back and she squeezed him in return. “I love you, too,” she said. “That’s why I want this so much. That’s the real reason it means something.”

They clung to each other for a moment, each lost in their
own hopes and horrors, then reluctantly let go. They were still on a mission, after all.

“I guess we jump the turnstiles,” Chase said with a quirky grin. “Unless you pre-purchased tickets. Hope no guards are watching.”

She chuckled. “I think Walt will forgive us, under the circumstances.” She placed her hands on each side of the turnstile.

“Besides, I always wanted to do this as a kid.” She jumped over the bars and landed on the other side. “Easy-peasy.”

Chase made his jump and together they walked under the train bridge and came out into Town Square, right on the edge of Main Street USA. Molly glanced around at the once-colorful turn-of-the-twentieth-century modeled buildings, now with their faded, chipping paint. The storefronts along Main Street were battered and neglected. Some had been knocked down entirely—perhaps by a passing hurricane or two. The place was silent as the grave, and a shiver passed through Molly. She scanned the area with her implants, searching for life.

Nothing. Totally dead.

“I guess they wouldn’t be concentrating on aesthetics when they’re trying to save the world,” she muttered, half to herself. “I mean, they’ve got more important things to do than paint.”

Chase reached over and took her hand and squeezed. She wondered, not for the first time, how much he believed that they’d find something here. It was beginning to seem doubtful to her as well. But she pushed on. Even if the chance was small, she had to know. Chase’s life depended on it.

“This place is huge,” Chase remarked, as they walked down Main Street toward a crumbling Cinderella’s castle with a few missing turrets. “How are we going to find anyone?”

“I’m looking,” Molly told him, glancing off toward Adventureland. “There’ll be signs. But nothing so far.” She stopped as her lenses picked up movement. “Oh God,” she whispered. “There are Others here.” She zoomed in for a closer look.
“And they’re headed our way.” She scanned the castle. Same deal.

“They’re everywhere!” she cried. “The place is crawling with them.” She motioned behind her. “Let’s head back to the entrance. Maybe we can find one of those service tunnels or something.”

They ran back down Main Street to Town Square and found a door that said Cast Members Only. Pushing through they found a staircase—Stairway Number 18, according to the sign—leading down into the darkness. Molly checked the passage and couldn’t see any signs of movement in the dim light. Chase closed the door behind them and they both breathed a sigh of relief.

“What are Others doing here?” Chase asked dubiously. “You would think if your father and his friends were here they’d have cleared the place out. Secured it.”

Molly nodded. “Something’s wrong,” she agreed. “This isn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be the last safe human outpost. Not a monster-filled Tunnel of Death.” She felt sick to her stomach. Was it time to face reality, that they had come all this way for nothing? That her dad and his scientist friends didn’t actually ever make it here? Was Chase doomed to die because of this waste of a mission?

“Look, there were Others above the Hive, too,” Chase reminded her. She felt his warm breath as he whispered into her ear. In the darkness, it sent shivers down her spine. “Maybe it’s the same here. Remember your father’s plan? Maybe they’re down working in these service tunnels, right? We should go check it out. Might as well make sure.”

She loved him for not giving up. “Okay,” she agreed. “Let’s head down.”

As they walked down the darkened steps, Molly kept her eyes peeled for any dangerous movements. She held Chase’s hand to lead him. At the bottom of the staircase they came to a long, nondescript tunnel leading off into the distance. She did a scan. Nothing. She let out a breath.

“Okay, let’s start walking. I’ll guide you,” she said.

They headed north, probably right under Main Street if Molly calculated right. Above them she thought she sensed Others wandering the park, but maybe it was paranoia. There were no signs of human life at all. After a while, they came to a wardrobe room. Seemingly endless racks of costumes lined it. Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, Cinderella—all the favorites were there. It made Molly sad to think that no one would ever wear these outfits again. The silly faces would never be responsible for making another child laugh.

Suddenly, her lenses picked something up northwest of them. A heat pattern that didn’t match the cool blood color of the Others. She grabbed Chase’s arm.

“I think there might be a human up there,” she told him, scarcely able to breathe.

“Above ground?”

“Yeah.” But was it her father? Was he here, alive after all?

“I’ll go up,” Chase said. “After all, I’m already bitten. What more can they do to me?”

“Well, they can tear you apart and eat you,” she replied. “And I’m a better fighter. I have more training, and razors. I can also pinpoint his location.”

“Fair enough, we’ll go together,” he said.

They walked up the stairs and emerged near the Pinocchio Village Haus, an old food stand long deserted. Molly scanned the area. “It’s a Small World,” she announced excitedly.

“It certainly can seem that way.”

“No, no—I mean, that’s where the human is. In the ride somewhere.”

“Oh.” Chase nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

From the outside, the dingy white building looked like all the rest. Dead and deserted. But Molly’s zooming lenses kept getting definite hints of movement inside. They walked down into the ride and came across a waterway with a line of boats bobbing in some pretty gross-looking water.

Oddly, the boats were moving, gliding through the canals just as they had years ago, when the park was still open. The only thing they’d seen so far still in action.

“Weird,” Molly said, glancing at Chase. She shivered. “And creepy.”

“Yeah. I guess we get in.”

They climbed into the first boat and let it take them slowly down the man-made canal. Soon they were flanked by dolls on either side, all eerily silent and none of them singing or dancing as they were supposed to. As a child, Molly had found the “It’s a Small World” song extremely irritating. She’d give anything to hear it now.

They paddled past Eskimo children, through Scandinavia, then past little British guards. Europe, then Asia, then magic carpets signaling the Middle East. Neither Molly nor Chase spoke as they floated through. All Molly could think was of all these different cultures, all the people of the world—how they had all become extinct.

They passed through Africa. Saw Cleopatra in Egypt. Llamas greeted them at the edge of South America, followed by volcanoes and fire dancers of Tahiti and the space helmet-wearing kids of Station 13. Then, all cultural boundaries faded and the final scene of the ride spread out before them. Children of all nations together as one.

It was then that the music started. And the dancing dolls came to life.

Molly nearly jumped out of her skin as the theme song suddenly blared from unseen speakers. The dolls whirled and danced and smiled. She looked around, wondering what was going on. Then her sensors picked up flashes of movement to the left, movement that didn’t seem like part of the ride. She saw heat trails that seemed human. She motioned to Chase and they jumped out of the boat. Past the dolls, into the background, behind a wall, and…

Found Ian Anderson.

Her father was older. More gray. More wrinkles. But it was definitely him. He was here. Alive. He’d survived. He’d waited for her. Just as he’d always said.

She ran over and threw her arms around him, overjoyed
to have accomplished her mission at last. “Oh, Dad!’ she said, burying her face in her chest. “I made it. I actually made it.”

He patted her awkwardly on the back a few times—he never had been one for the whole touchy-feely thing—and then pulled away. He looked at her fondly, reaching out to touch the edges of her implants.

“You’ve finally come,” he whispered. “My razor girl. My Molly.”

“Yes, Dad, I’m here.” She looked up at him, a little worried. Something seemed off. Wrong.

He paced back and forth. “Not that it’s not great to see you,” he said, “but you really shouldn’t have come.”

She stared at him. “What?” she asked. “What the hell are you talking about? Of course I should have come. That was the whole deal. You needed me to bring the data you’d stored in my head, remember?”

“Right.” He sounded distracted. “But it does no good now, does it?”

“What’s going on, Dad?” she asked, feeling like she was missing a vital piece of the puzzle. “Where is everyone? Where are your fellow scientists? Where’s the new society?”

Her father ran a hand through his thinning gray hair. “They never came,” he mumbled. “They never came.”

Oh God. “Who? Your friends?”

“It was supposed to be perfect, Molly. We had it all planned out: the disease wiping out all corrupt governments. We were going to start anew. We had a Noah’s Ark. But it went wrong. The zombies…we didn’t know there would be zombies. And they killed them. All my friends. All the ones who were supposed to survive and rebuild the world. They never made it here. I waited…I went into hiding…I came back…But never anything.”

Molly’s heart filled with fear as she tried to grasp what her dad was saying. “Supposed to survive?” she whispered. “What are you talking about, Dad?”

“I guess I might as well tell you the truth,” he said, glancing around. “What difference does it make now?” He gave a half-mad laugh.

And then he told her. He and his friends had formed a secret coalition ten years ago to create a virus that would work to wipe out certain members of the ruling class, using the AIDS vaccine as a conduit they could manipulate. They’d planned to stage a coup, to take over the government and start fresh.

“We were going to save all the children. Rebuild the world. There were fail-safes in place.”

Chase snorted, but Molly ignored him.

“Fail-safes? And they…what, failed?” she asked through gritted teeth.

Her father hung his head. “Yes,” he admitted. “Once the plague became airborne we could no longer control who was infected. And then there were the mutants. We could have never predicted the virus would mutate some people’s DNA and turn them into monsters. Suddenly those who didn’t get the plague were now at risk of being lunch. Which obviously wasn’t part of the plan.”

“What were you thinking?” Molly shrieked. “You thought you and your friends had the right to play God? What made you think that was okay?”

“Things were bad and getting worse. We figured starting over was the best plan. We could have made it right. And we meant to save the children….”

“But you didn’t. You destroyed the very world you were supposedly trying to save.”

Her father shook his head but said, “Yes, well, as I mentioned before, things didn’t go exactly as planned.”

Molly couldn’t believe it. All this time she’d been thinking she was on a mission to help her dad save the world. But he was the one responsible for ending it in the first place. She felt sick to her stomach. All that death. All that destruction. It was all the fault of her own flesh and blood.

“I can’t believe you!” she cried. “I can’t believe you did this! You’re a monster!” She turned to Chase. “Let’s get out of
here,” she said. “Back to the Hive. There’s nothing for us here.” No new society, no hope for the future. And no miraculous cure for her beloved.

She was almost back to the boats when her dad called out, “That’s where you’re wrong.”

She stopped. Turned around slowly, not wanting to listen but feeling compelled all the same. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“You still have the data in your head,” he reminded her. “So there’s still hope to save the world.”

The data. Right. “What’s in my head, Dad?” she asked through clenched teeth. “Tell me once and for all what the fuck you put in my head!”

“The recipe for the antidote.”

She stared at him. “What?”

“That’s what I stored in your head. The virus code. We can extract it and create an antidote. That’s why I needed you down here. We can fix this. We can still fix this.”

“And it can be extracted how?”

“A simple scan with the right equipment should be able to read it. Any working hospital should have the right equipment….”

She nodded. “Fine.” Turning back to Chase, she said, “Let’s go.”

“But…” Chase said, looking at her dad. “The cure?”

She glared at her father. “The scientists back at the Hive will be able to extract it just as easily as him. In fact, it’s the information they’ve been looking for all this time. They have a plan in place and resources to mass produce and distribute. Together we can rebuild the world.” She glared at her father. “Not here. Not at Disney World. But
in the real
world
.”

“Molly, please!” her dad cried, seeming to return to himself. “I never meant it to be like this. I wanted to make things better. For you. For future generations. I did it for you!”

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