The Kill Order (8 page)

His friend didn’t respond, just lay there, half in shadow, shaking and moaning. Muttering those two words.

“My head, my head, my head.”

Mark’s insides plummeted to some dark place and he felt hollow inside. He’d seen so much of terror and death, but looking at his friend, suffering alone … it killed Mark. Especially because it was so pointless. Needless. Why would someone do this to others after all the hell that happened to the world? Weren’t things bad enough?

A sudden rage came over him. Mark punched the rough wood of the shack, bloodying his knuckles. He hoped somebody paid for all this one day.

“Darnell?” Mark called again. He had to say something, make it better. “Maybe … maybe you’re stronger than the others—that’s why you haven’t died. Just hang tough, man. Wait it out. You’ll …” Empty words. That was what it felt like. As if he were lying to his friend.

“Anyway, the sergeant and I, Trina, Lana, whoever—we’re gonna make it right, somehow. You just—”

Darnell’s body suddenly stiffened, his legs shooting straight out and his arms going rigid at his sides. Another scream, worse than before, erupted from his ravaged throat—it came out sounding like the roar of an enraged animal. Mark jumped back in surprise but quickly leaned in again, his eye as close as possible to the opening without touching it. Darnell had rolled out into the middle of the floor, his face now in full view under a shaft of sunlight as he shook and shook.

Blood covered his forehead, his cheeks, his chin, his neck. Matted his
hair. It was seeping from his eyes and ears, dripping off his lips. The boy finally got control of his arms and pressed them against the sides of his head, twisting this way and that as if he were trying to screw the thing right off his neck. And the screams kept coming, broken up by the only two words he seemed to know.

“My head! My head! My head!”

“Darnell,” Mark whispered, knowing there was no way he could talk to his friend now. And despite how guilty and sick it made him feel, Mark also knew he couldn’t possibly go in there to try and help. It would be beyond stupid.

“My
heeeeeeaaaaaad
!” Darnell shouted in one long, drawn-out wail of such ferocity that Mark stepped back again. He didn’t know if he could bear to look anymore.

There was the sound of movement inside, the shuffling of feet. Then a loud thunk against the door. Then another. And another.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk
.

Mark closed his eyes. He knew what that horrible sound was. Trina was suddenly there, pulling him into her arms, squeezing him tightly as she shook with sobs. Alec protested but only halfheartedly. It was too late now.

There were a few more thunks, and then a last, long, piercing scream that ended in a wet, gurgly burst. After that, Mark heard Darnell slump to the floor with an exhale of breath.

He was ashamed of himself, but all Mark felt in that quiet moment was relief that the ordeal had finally ended. And that it hadn’t been Trina.

Mark had never thought of Alec as a gentle man. Not even remotely. But when the soldier walked over and separated Mark from Trina, he did it with a warm look on his face. Then he spoke.

“I know we’ve been through a lot together.” Alec flicked his eyes over at the shack where Darnell was. “But that might’ve been the worst yet, hearing what we just heard.” The man paused for a moment before he continued. “We can’t give up now, though. From day one we’ve been about living.”

Mark nodded and looked at Trina.

She wiped a tear away, giving Alec a cold look. “I’m kinda sick of surviving. At least Darnell is done with this world.”

In all the years Mark had known her, she had never sounded so angry.

“Don’t talk like that,” he said. “I know for a fact you don’t mean that.”

Her gaze swept to him and softened. “When will it end? We survive months of the sun beating the tar out of the planet, find a place where we can build shelter, find food. A few days ago we were laughing! And then guys come in a Berg and shoot us with darts and people die? What is this, some kind of joke? Is someone up there laughing at us, playing us like some kind of virtgame?”

Her voice cracked and she started crying again, covering her face with her hands as she sat down on the hard-packed earth, her legs crossed under her. Her shoulders shook with her silent sobs.

Mark looked at Alec, whose eyes narrowed back at him as if to say,
She’s your friend—say something
.

“Trina?” Mark said quietly. He walked over and knelt behind her, then reached out and squeezed her shoulders. “I know—just when we thought things couldn’t get any worse. I’m sorry.” He knew better than to make things seem less terrible than they actually were. That was a pointless trick they’d all promised to stop a long time ago.

“But I promise we’ll stay together on all this,” he continued. “And we’ll do everything we can not to catch whatever it was that killed Darnell and the others. But if we’re going to do that …” He rubbed her back and looked up at Alec for help.

“Then we need to be vigilant,” the man said. “We need to be cautious and smart and ruthless if it comes to that.”

Mark knew it might be foolish to be touching Trina. But he didn’t care. If Trina died, he seriously didn’t know if he could keep going.

Trina dropped her hands from her face and looked at Alec. “Mark, stand up and walk away from me.”

“Trina …”

“Do it. Now. Go stand near Alec so I can see both of you.”

Mark did as she asked. He rejoined the man about ten feet away and turned to see that any trace of the crying, helpless, I-want-to-quit Trina was gone, replaced with the firmly resolved woman Mark was used to seeing. She got to her feet and folded her arms.

“I’ve been really careful since you two got up on that Berg. The suits those jerks were wearing, the darts, how quickly the people who were shot collapsed and got sick … Even before Lana told us anything, it was obvious something was going on. The only person I’ve interacted with was Darnell, but he knew to keep his distance. He was the one who barricaded himself in that place and forced me to board it up.”

She paused to take a breath and eyed each of them. “My point is that
I don’t think I’m sick. Especially since it acted so quickly on everyone who was.”

“I can see that, but—” Alec began, but Trina cut him off.

“I’m not finished,” she said with a sharp glare. “I know we need to be careful. I
could
be sick. I know we’ve touched, but let’s try not to anymore. Not until we’re totally sure. And all three of us need to make new masks and to wash our hands and faces like crazy.”

Mark liked that she was taking charge. “Sounds good to me.”

“Absolutely,” Alec agreed. “Now, where are the others? Lana, Misty, the Toad?”

Trina pointed in a few directions. “Everyone is holed up somewhere, keeping their distance. Just to be safe until no one shows any signs of sickness. Maybe another couple of days.”

Sitting around for a day or two sounded like the worst idea possible to Mark. “I’ll go nuts if we do that. We found a workpad with a map of where that Berg came from. Let’s gather supplies and get out of here—maybe we can learn something.”

“Agreed,” Alec chimed in. “We should get as far as we can from this place.”

“Wait—what about Darnell?” Mark asked. Though he knew what they would say, it made him feel better to at least ask. “Should we bury him?”

Trina’s and Alec’s eyes said it all. They couldn’t risk being anywhere close to his body.

“Take us to Lana and the others,” Alec said to Trina. “Then we go.”

As they searched the town for their friends, Mark worried about people trying to join them. But fear had struck deep, and no one dared venture out of their home. The village was eerily quiet, but he could feel the eyes
following him down the alleys and paths. It didn’t surprise him, the more he thought about it. The world had punished everyone enough—why should they risk bringing anything more upon themselves?

They collected Misty and the Toad from the second floor of a log cabin on the outskirts of town, across the village from the Leaner and its bodies. Trina wasn’t sure where Lana would be. They found her about an hour after they set out, sleeping behind some bushes by the river. She was upset that they’d found her sleeping, but she’d worn herself out. As soon as Mark and Alec had boarded the Berg and disappeared in the woods, she’d taken charge. Quarantining people and getting the bodies in one place—she said they’d been sure to wear gloves and masks—and helping deliver food from house to house. No one in the settlement knew exactly what had happened, but Lana had insisted from the start that care needed to be taken in case they were dealing with something contagious.

“I’m not sick,” she concluded as they readied to leave the stream and go back to the village. “It happened so quickly—and the ones who got sick afterward have already died. I think I’d have symptoms by now.”

“How fast?” Mark asked her. “How fast did it take effect?”

“All but Darnell were dead within twelve hours,” she replied. “They woke up and showed symptoms within two or three. I really think if anyone is still alive and symptom-free right now, they’re clear.”

Mark took in their group: The Toad, fidgeting nervously. Misty, looking at the ground. Alec and Lana, staring at each other intently in what appeared to be a silent conversation. And Trina, looking at Mark. Her eyes said it all—they were going to live through this just like they’d lived through everything else.

They were back at the Shack an hour later, filling backpacks with as much food and supplies as they could carry. As they worked, they kept their distance from each other. Caution seemed to come naturally
now. Mark washed his hands at least three times during the packing frenzy.

They had just finished up, each of them with a loaded pack on his or her back, when Misty groaned. Mark turned to agree with her—the packs
were
heavy—but when he saw her face, his stomach sank.

She was pale and leaning on a table with both hands. Mark was stunned—the last time he’d looked at her, she was fine. But then her legs gave out and she collapsed to one knee. She touched the side of her face, tentatively, almost as if she was worried about what she’d feel there.

“My … head hurts,” she whispered.

“Everyone get out of here!” Lana yelled. “Out! Now!”

Mark was speechless. Everything in him wanted to do the opposite of what she’d just ordered. He wanted to help his friend.

“Get outside. Then we can talk!” Lana insisted. She pointed to the door.

“Go,” Misty said weakly. “Do what she says.”

Mark and Trina exchanged a look, but she only hesitated a second before marching out the door. Alec was right on her heels, then Lana.

Mark turned to leave but then noticed that the Toad hadn’t moved.

“Hey … come on, man. Let’s just go out there and talk about this. Misty, tell him.”

“He’s right, Toadie,” she said. She’d slipped her backpack to the floor and sat down next to it. Mark couldn’t believe how quickly she’d gone from totally fine to literally on the ground, too weak to stand. “Go and let me figure this thing out. Maybe I just ate something weird.” But Mark could tell she didn’t believe that.

“We can’t just keep abandoning people,” the Toad said, glaring at Mark.

“Who cares what you do if it makes you end up dead!” Misty countered. “How would you feel if it was reversed? You’d want me to leave. Now go!” That seemed to drain a good chunk of her energy—she slumped and almost lay down.

“Come on,” Mark said. “We’re not abandoning her. We’re just going outside to talk.”

The Toad stomped out of the Shack, muttering under his breath the whole way. “This is all so messed up. Totally messed up.”

Mark looked at Misty, but she was staring at the floor, taking long, deep breaths. “Sorry” was all he could get out. Then he joined the others.

They decided to give her one hour. They’d see what happened. See if she got better or worse.

Or if she stayed the same.

It was a maddening hour. Mark was unable to sit still. He paced outside the Shack, worried on so many levels. The thought that a virus might be slinking its way through his system … it was unbearable. And Trina’s, too. He wanted to
know
. Now. It was so overwhelming that he found himself forgetting that Misty could very well have it and die soon.

“I think we need to readjust our outlook here,” Lana said toward the end of their allotted time. Misty hadn’t improved or gotten worse—she still lay on the floor in the Shack, breathing evenly. Not moving at all. Not speaking.

“What do you mean?” Mark asked. He was grateful the silence had been broken.

“Darnell and Misty prove that whatever this is doesn’t necessarily take effect right away.”

Alec spoke up. “I think we should use the time we have. We should hike to that place on the map. And we need to do it as soon as possible.” He lowered his voice and added, “I’m sorry, but we have to get out of here, and what better place to go than where we can learn what’s going on? Whatever was in those darts caused this—we need to go where the darts came from. Maybe there’s something—some medicine that can cure this sickness. Who knows?”

It all came out sounding a little cold. Harsh. But Mark couldn’t
disagree with him. He felt like he had to get away from here, if nothing else.

“We can’t leave Misty,” Trina said. But even her statement had no strength behind it.

“We don’t have a choice,” Alec countered.

Lana stood from where she’d been sitting against a wall and brushed off her pants. “We don’t have to bear the guilt of this,” she murmured. “Let’s ask Misty. She deserves that. And we’ll do whatever she decides.”

Mark raised his eyebrows and looked around at the others, who were doing the same.

Lana took that as agreement and walked to the open door of the Shack. Without going in, she knocked on the frame and spoke in a loud voice. “Misty? How’s it going in there?”

Mark was perched on the ground where he could see inside. Misty was on her back but slowly turned to look at them.