Twisted World: A Broken World Novel (15 page)

“Why didn’t you drive?” the guy at my side asked.

“Because I don’t know how.” I turned to face him even though heat had crept up my neck to my cheeks. “Until today, I’ve never set foot outside the walls of the city.”

All three crewmembers cursed at the same time, throwing out a rainbow of profanity that filled the small cab. Donaghy tilted his head and his neck cracked as his hands tightened even more on the steering wheel. I kept my head up even though I felt slightly ashamed for putting my crewmembers in danger. It hadn’t been my choice, though. Hanson, or whoever it was that had it in for me, had made the decision to send me outside the city with no experience and little training.

“Gotta take care of this guy,” the crewmember with the shifty eyes said from behind me.

I twisted in my seat as he eased the little window open, giving himself just enough room to stick the barrel of the gun through the hole. The zombie’s fingers worked their way in, reaching for us. The thing opened his mouth and my crewmember took the opportunity to shove the barrel between the creature’s decaying teeth. When he pulled the trigger, the zombie’s head exploded, sending down a waterfall of dark brown blood, brain matter, and bone.

“He was a fresh one,” my crewmember said, pulling his gun back inside and shutting the window. “The virus must have just turned him.”

He was right. The thing’s blood still had a brownish tint to it, which meant he hadn’t been dead long. Maybe only a matter of hours.

Back before the virus mutated, people died and then turned, and by the time they came back, their blood was thick and black. Now, though, the virus turned them slowly, making them monsters before they had even died. It was torturous watching the change, but at least it gave us a better shot at saving people who got infected. If we could get them the right vaccine before the virus got too far, that is. Problem was, the virus had mutated so many times now that we didn’t always know what strain we were dealing with. The vaccines they’d made from my uncle’s blood weren’t always good, and Angus was dead now. There was no chance for them to create a new vaccine when they didn’t have the blood of someone immune to work with…

Unless that note was telling the truth and Dad
was
immune. Then it might make sense that they had him.

I turned to face the men in my crew, looking them over slowly before asking, “How did you know my dad?”

The guy at my side looked away. “Everyone knows your family.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it. When I told you who my dad was, you acted nervous. What do you know that you aren’t telling me?”

“Nothing,” the guy behind me snapped. “We heard he died. We felt bad.” His beady eyes were narrowed on my face when I turned to face him. “That’s it. Don’t go looking for trouble unless you want it to find you.”

I looked the three crewmembers over, but none of them would meet my gaze. There was definitely something going on that I didn’t know about, but these guys didn’t know me well enough to share it. I needed to get them on my side if I wanted them to trust me.

“Have you guys met Donaghy?” I asked, jerking my head toward the fighter who was driving us—a little slower than necessary—back toward the gate. “He’s fighting at Dragon’s Lair tonight and I’m serving drinks. You should stop by.”

Donaghy’s head turned my way long enough for him to give me a puzzled look, but I ignored it.

“You’re serving drinks at Dragon’s?” the crewmember at my side said doubtfully.

“Yeah.”

Despite the tension still lingering in the car, the man with the beady eyes grinned. “Gotta see that.”

“Good,” I said, faking excitement. “I’ll see you tonight then?”

When they nodded I felt like letting out a sigh of relief. I’d get answers from them tonight. After a few drinks, people were always more willing to share their secrets.

M
eg’s been
on my mind ever since I drove back through the gate this morning. She wasn’t really out of her element out there—she’d handled herself a lot better than I had expected her to—but she wasn’t totally prepared either. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why the hell someone sent her outside the walls in the first place. The other people on her crew were all men, and it was obvious just by looking at them that they’d been outside more than their fair shares. But Meg was clueless.

Then there was the conversation on the way back in. Meg asked the crewmembers questions about her dad, and she was right to act suspicious—they were clearly hiding something. Plus, they said that everyone knew her family, which pretty much confirmed my suspicions: Meg had connections. I didn’t know exactly what was going on, but it was obvious something big happened to Meg recently or she wouldn’t be working here—or on the shitty maintenance crew. I’d be willing to bet my right nut it had something to do with her dad and how she kept talking about him in past tense.

I was in the ring doing pushups when the sound of the front door shutting echoed through Dragon’s Lair. I pushed myself up the rest of the way and paused, watching from the darkened ring as Meg walked across the room wearing the same black dress she’d had on last night. Her heels clicked against the cement floor, but even from all the way across the room I could see how shaky her legs were.

When she was no longer in my range of vision, I went back to my pushups. Gritting my teeth and trying to focus on what I was doing. Not on what happened this morning. I had to get this girl out of my head. I couldn’t get involved in her mess. I had my own troubles. My own life. She could handle herself.

It was impossible, though. No matter what I did, thoughts of Meg refused to stay away, and after only ten more pushups, I gave up.

I flopped down on my stomach, ignoring the black and brown stains on the floor while I caught my breath. My heart pumped a spastic rhythm that had barely eased by the time I got to my feet.

Meg was behind the bar when I stepped out of the ring. She lifted a glass of moonshine to take a drink, but her hand was shaking so hard that the liquid sloshed out.

“Shit,” she muttered, but the mess didn’t stop her from taking a drink.

“Bad day?”

“Holy mother—” She practically slammed the glass on the counter before turning narrowed eyes on me. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry.” I slid onto the stool in front of her. “You okay?”

“Fine.” She pressed her lips together before grabbing a grungy looking rag off the bar and wiping up the mess she’d made. “And you know what kind of day it was. You were there.”

“True.” I drummed my fingers against the counter, trying to think of something to say. She was jumpy, but I didn’t think it had a lot to do with the zombies. Even though she shouldn’t have been out there, Meg had taken the dead out pretty easily. No. There was more going on with her.

She poured me some ale without even being asked. When she slid it across the bar, I wrapped my fingers around the cloudy glass before she’d had a chance to let go. Our fingers touched and she looked away when her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink.

“Thanks.”

Meg nodded, but a second later closed her eyes and took a deep breath before blowing it out. When she opened them again, she was looking over my head.

Even in the skimpy dress she looked out of place in this bar. The walls were so cracked that I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole place collapsed, and there was a layer of dirt covering everything that was probably at least twenty years old. I bet if we wiped the walls down, we’d find splatters of blood that dated back to the early days of the zombie outbreak.

Why the hell was this girl here?

“Why are you here?”

The question I’d been dying to ask slipped out before I could stop myself, but I didn’t give a shit. I had to know. It had been a long time since I’d allowed myself to get involved in anyone’s business other than my own, but the moment I’d saved this girl, I was involved, and there was no going back now.

She didn’t look my way. “You already asked me that.”

“But you never answered.”

Meg exhaled and slumped against the bar. It pushed her breasts together until they threatened to spill out of the dress and I had to fight to keep my eyes on her face. It wasn’t as hard as it should have been, though, not when I saw the tortured expression in her eyes.

“My life has turned into a shit storm,” she said, the words coming out like a sigh, “and this was the only way not to get soaked.”

My lips twitched with something that could almost be a smile, but I wasn’t sure. Smiles had been few and far between for me—I actually hadn’t been sure if I
could
smile anymore until I got here. Then the image of what a
shit storm
would actually look like popped into my head, and it was so graphic and repulsive that I found myself chuckling.
Me
. Laughing. Who the hell was this girl?

“I seriously doubt it’s as bad as you think it is.” The half-grin on my face felt foreign and awkward, but a part of me liked it. Like how it felt to know that I still had feelings other than rage and hate and bitterness buried deep inside me.

Meg stood and crossed her arms, her green eyes crackling when she focused them on me. “Why’s that exactly?”

“Don’t get all pissy.” I was still grinning when I took a sip, and my gaze was still on her. Her eyes were blazing like she was seriously considering punching me in the throat. I almost laughed again. “I’m just pointing out that anyone who is
friends
with the Regulator’s son and has an uncle high up in the ranks of enforcers—in New Atlanta—isn’t doing too bad.”

“My aunt is also the Judicial Officer,” she fired at me.

Shit. This girl was even better connected than I thought. “You’re shitting me.”

“No.” Her arms dropped to her sides. “But none of that helps find my dad, or brings my mom back from the edge of the cliff she’s about to jump off of.”

My smile faded and I hated that it was gone. “There are no cliffs around here, so I’m assuming you’re talking metaphorically.”

“You assume right.”

The conversation from earlier popped into my head, and once again I found it impossible to keep the questions inside. “What happened to your dad?”

“I don’t know.” She exhaled and her body slumped forward once again until her arms were resting on the bar. “He disappeared about three weeks ago. Left one morning and never came back. They told us he went out on a run and got cut off from the group, but they never found him. Never found any signs that he’d been killed or injured or even taken by another group. He just vanished. But you know how it is. These days, if they don’t find you in twenty-four hours, you’re presumed dead. And with good reason.”

Damn. I’d kind of thought her problems were all in her head. The drama of a girl barely out of her teens who didn’t know what it meant to have real issues. Not the kind of problems that threatened to kill you when you weren’t looking—or worse.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Are you going to tell me it’s no one’s fault? Just the way the world is now?”

The bitterness in my voice surprised even me. I was sick and tired of the assholes who ran this country using the zombies as an excuse to fuck everyone over. Apocalypse or not, people still had the ability to choose to be decent human beings.

“No.” She lifted her gaze to hold mine. “In fact, I’m starting to think my mom’s insane ranting isn’t as crazy as I thought it was.”

“You’re going to have to elaborate on that for me.”

Meg looked around like she was afraid someone was listening as she leaned closer. “Ever since Dad disappeared, my mom’s been raving like a lunatic. Talking about how they took him. Just like they took my uncle.” She blinked. “I guess I need to go back further than that.”

“Further than what?” She’d lost me. Maybe her mom wasn’t the only one slightly unhinged.

“My uncle was Angus James.”

She said the name like it was some major revelation, but it still took a moment for it to sink in, and even then I thought I had to be wrong. “Angus James?”

“Yeah, Angus James. He was the first immune person to arrive in Atlanta and the CDC used his blood to help create the original vaccine, as well as the two others they needed when the virus mutated.”

Damn. This girl was like apocalyptic royalty. Literally. At this exact moment there were probably hundreds of people saying a prayer to the great Angus James, hoping he would save them from starvation or sickness or the zombies. Hell, probably even the government. And Meg was
here
. Working in this shit hole excuse for a bar while begging for leftovers from the scum of the city.

“You can’t be serious.” For the first time since they arrested me in Dayton, I found it impossible to maintain even a little bit of my air of indifference.

“I am. Even though my parents saw my uncle’s body for themselves, there were always rumors that Angus was actually alive. That the CDC was keeping him in a chemically induced coma so they could use him however they wanted. It was far-fetched, and there was nothing to support it, but the rumors didn’t stop until—” Megan’s voice broke and she looked away. “I was eight when he finally died.”

There was more to the story, but I didn’t push her. Whatever it was that she was holding back, it made her face contort until she looked like she was about to break into a million pieces.

“What does any of this have to do with your dad’s disappearance?” I asked instead.

She sucked in a deep breath, then blew it out like she was trying to steady herself. When she spoke again, her voice was thick with tears, but her eyes were dry. “A few people speculated that Dad was immune too, so when he disappeared it seemed to set something off in my mom’s brain. She lost it. Started having delusions that the CDC had taken him. That they were using him to create a new vaccine. The virus is genetically engineered to mutate every few years. Did you know that?”

“No.” But how did she know that?

“My uncle Joshua worked at the CDC,” she said, almost like she was reading my mind. “He was a doctor.”

“So you know someone in every important position?”

“Not anymore. Joshua is dead, which has only pushed my mom’s delusions farther. She thinks he discovered something about my dad and that the authorities killed him to keep him quiet.”

I drummed my fingers on the counter, studying her face for a second while I decided what to say. There was a lot that could be said to all this. It sounded far-fetched, but it didn’t. Honestly, I wouldn’t put much past the people in charge. Would they keep someone hostage for years so they could use him like a lab rat? Probably. Does that mean they did?

The question I settled on was: “What do you think?”

“I don’t know. At first I was thought Mom was losing her mind, but then someone gave me this crazy note and now…”

Her eyes darted around when her voice trailed off, but the place was nearly empty. There were a few guys sitting at the other end of the bar, their hazy eyes focused on Helen as she babied them. I’d noticed that was her thing—trying to mend the wounded men who wandered into this building. Glitter and Dragon hadn’t made an appearance yet, my guards had cut out the second they dropped me off, and the bouncers were back on the cots, sleeping.

I gave Meg a second to calm down before reaching across the counter to take her hand, pulling her attention back to me. “What did the note say?”

Meg looked at her hand in mine, then lifted her head her gaze was holding mine. “That my dad is alive, and that he’s immune.”

My first thought was that she might be as crazy as her mom, but then the conversation I overheard in the Regulator’s house came back to me, and doubt crept in. They couldn’t have been talking about Meg’s dad, right? It was hard to remember all the details, but they’d said something about a man who was immune. And something about taking him out of a coma…

Meg’s eyes narrowed as the silence stretched out between us. “What?”

“I overheard something strange yesterday.”

I gave her the details I could remember, and the more I said, the bigger her eyes got. Even though some of it still didn’t make sense—the conversation about the flu, for example—I had to admit that the rest was pretty incriminating in the light of Meg’s story. Even worse, I couldn’t help wondering if she found herself outside the wall today because of what Jackson’s father had said last night. Although, that part of the story I kept to myself. No point in freaking her out even more.

“It can’t be,” she said when I’d finished. “If my dad was immune, someone would have told him. Right?”

I didn’t know about that. “I think the people in charge will do whatever it takes to reach their end goal. The problem is, I’m not really sure what that goal is. Before I overheard that conversation, I would have said eradicating the zombies. Now, though, I’m not so sure. Let’s face it, they’ve been telling us for twenty years that they were trying to reestablish a democracy, but we haven’t had a real election yet. Every time we get close something happens to distract people.”