Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Three

The Tunnel

ZACH

Aiden and I approach the tunnel side by side. A blast of cool air shoots out, sending goosebumps across my exposed skin. It’s like walking into a refrigerator. Before entering, we check our flashlights to ensure they have fresh batteries. Aiden has his rifle at the ready, pointed downward in his folded right hand.

“Here goes nothing,” I say as we walk into the darkness.

The tunnel is tall and wide, curved at the top. It starts out heading northward but gradually bends to the left, due west. Soon, light from the entrance disappears. We’re in total darkness, save what our flashlights reveal.

The temperature has dropped dramatically, with water dripping from the ceiling. At certain points, the drips are more like a steady downpour, and it’s impossible to avoid a few landing on my head, making me flinch every time. Each step risks a twisted ankle as large divots in the path have formed where the water falls into pools.

Once we’ve completed the bend westward, a tiny pinprick of light is visible far off to the west. The exit to the tunnel.

“Looks like it’s a straight shot through. That doesn’t look so bad,” I say. The sight of our exit gives me the slightest bit of relief.

“Yeah. That’s still a long way off though. The whole thing is over two miles, so expect it to take a while.”

It doesn’t take a while. It takes forever. We keep on, and the pinprick doesn’t seem to get any bigger. The cold is getting to me, and my whole body is shaking. My hands are the worst. The flashlight feels like an icicle. I alternate back and forth, letting one hand warm up in my pocket as the other one shines a light on our path.

Every hundred feet, an indentation in the wall holds old rusted wiring poking out of metal boxes. In one indentation, a dirty, cracked porcelain doll sits against the wall. Its dead eyes stare at me as we pass.

After a half hour, the exit is more defined, with the shape of the tunnel now a crisp arch of daylight. We’re getting close. That’s when a faint sound comes from behind us.

It’s barely audible at first. It could almost be mistaken for the wind blowing through the tunnel. But then it gets louder and more defined. Soon the noise is recognizable. The sound of motors.

We both look back. Two little pinpricks of light curve around the bend, nearly two miles back. They are approaching at great speed. As they get nearer, we can make out the high-pitched sound of revving engines.

Without speaking, both Aiden and I take off at a full run. The sound of the engines gets closer. The whine echoes throughout the tunnel into a deafening crescendo. Aiden fumbles with his rifle as we run.

We’re getting closer to the exit. Only fifty feet away now. We’re going to make it. Our pursuers are gaining, but our exit is nearby.

Aiden shouts at me over the engines. “When we get outside, jump to our right. We’ll try to lose them in the forest.”

I nod.

We’re nearing the entrance, now only twenty feet away.

But then silhouettes of three people appear from outside, all holding rifles pointed right at us. The silhouette in the middle is taller, and coming from it, that dreaded and unmistakable voice. Connor.

“Drop the gun! Right now!”

Two dirt bikes roll up from behind. The sickening stench of exhaust fills my lungs.

Aiden looks at me and then at the men. He’s holding back, worrying about my safety.

“Do what you need to do,” I say to him, loud enough to be heard by all.

Aiden’s eyes look pained. “I’m sorry.” He throws the rifle on the ground near Connor’s feet. My heart sinks.

When Aiden’s gun hits the ground, the people swarm us. A shove in my back sends me smashing into the ground, face first. My hands blunt my fall but cut against the jagged gravel.

Aiden falls next to me. They take our packs, then bind our arms behind our backs. For a moment, we face each other. In his eyes is a profound sadness. I want to lean into him to tell him I love him. As I start to, hands grab me ruthlessly from behind.

They lift and shove us toward Connor and all the usual suspects. It’s the same group that’s been chasing us all the way from Elk Springs. Wayne and Tyra are behind us. The man with the gray goatee is on Connor’s left, and a bald man with huge muscles covered with tattoos is on Connor’s right.

Connor walks up to Aiden with a smug expression. “Aiden, old friend. Surprised to see me?”

Aiden says nothing, only looking at Connor with disgust.

“You two really are predictable.” Connor lets out a little laugh. “You had to know I’d have people watching the tunnel. The second you went in, I had you trapped.”

“Why are you doing this, Connor?” Aiden’s face looks deeply sad.

“I need those vials. We finally get to finish our business on the bridge when you stole my vials and left me for dead.”

“You fell off the bridge. I thought you died.”

Connor shakes his head, jaw clenched. “You looked right at me, then ran off and left. Denying it is an insult to my intelligence. I had to kill to save your life. Then you left me to die.”

“But I saw you fall into the mist near the valley floor, over a hundred feet down. No one could survive that.”

Connor raises an eyebrow, a shadow of doubt flashing for a moment. “I didn’t fall. My leg got tangled in construction netting below the bridge deck. You really didn’t see me?”

“No.” Realization dawns on Aiden’s face. “That was how you survived. But then who did I see—oh shit—it was the guy you knocked over the bridge.”

Connor pauses for a long moment. His usual cocky assurance looks shaken the slightest bit. A small chink in his armor.

“Connor,” Aiden says in a steady voice. “Let us go. It’s not too late. Nothing you’ve done is irredeemable. We used to be friends.”

A shallow laugh comes from Connor. “If you knew everything I’ve done, you wouldn’t say that.”

“What do you mean?”

Connor almost looks regretful. But then he brushes it off, and the regular Connor reappears. “It doesn’t matter. The result is the same. You took vials from me. Now I’m taking vials from you.”

“You don’t have to do this, Connor,” Aiden pleads.

Connor’s face darkens. “You more than anyone know that I have to do this. The Collective has to be stopped. I gave you your chance to help me, but you turned it down.”

“The Collective is our one chance to cure the Infection.”

Connor laughs. “Cure it? They just want to alter the damn thing to make it more powerful. With it, they can control the Infected. Build a whole army. You’re a pawn, Aiden.”

“Is that what you’re planning on doing? Building an army?” Aiden shakes his head in disgust.

“I’m going to stop the Collective from playing god. When that’s done, I’ll find the cure.”

“But you’d need a lab and the expertise.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Connor snaps. “I’ve recruited enough scientists to do what I want. Unlike you, they understood their responsibility when they discovered the Collective created the Infection.”

“But the Collective didn’t create it!” Aiden shouts. “The military did.”

My head spins at what Aiden just said.

Wait, what?

“What do you mean, they created the Infection?” I ask Aiden. “It’s man-made?”

Aiden hangs his head. “It is.”

“And you knew this?”

“I found out just before I left.”

My head is reeling. Connor told me this at the dam, but I dismissed it as a lie. The idea that all this death was caused by something man-made makes me feel ill.

Connor is clearly pleased with our exchange. He gestures to Wayne, who’s holding on to the small aluminum box. Aiden’s box. Aiden struggles with his bonds but gets shoved in the back and falls to his knees.

Connor takes the box and opens it. Inside, packed in molded foam padding, are the three vials of pale green liquid. He holds one up to my face. “This has the power to kill everyone. And the Collective has known it all along. And so has Aiden.”

I shake my head. It can’t be the truth. Aiden said he was transporting a cure. “That isn’t the actual Infection, right?”

Aiden lets out a long breath. “To make a cure, they need one thing.” Aiden keeps his eyes pegged to the ground. “The original weaponized XT58 created by the military. Not the one out in the wild.”

I feel the blood drain from my face, with the swirling green liquid in the vial just inches away. How could Aiden have kept this from me?

Connor sees my fear, and his mouth curves into a smile. “Wait. You aren’t immune, are you, Zach?”

I say nothing as panic rises.

Now it’s Aiden’s turn to be shell-shocked as he looks at me in horror. “But—your uncle—You’re immune, right?”

He searches my face for an answer, but I can’t look at him. I never told Aiden the true story about my uncle, that I left him outside to die. That he never exposed me, and I’m likely not immune.

Connor gives a sad laugh. “Another nice feature of this weaponized Infection. It’s concentrated enough that if I twisted off the cap of this vial, just breathing it would doom you to a horrific death. Or worse.” He shakes his head, then puts the vial back in the case and hands it to Wayne.

“Don’t worry. Unlike the Collective, I wouldn’t wish that death on anyone. But you’re too dangerous, Aiden. You’ve proven that. I can’t have you chasing after me and ruining my plans. There’s too much at stake. This gives me no pleasure.” Connor points to a spot along the wall of the tunnel.

Wayne forces me to the wall and shoves me down on my knees. Aiden lands next to me and looks into my eyes with a sorrowful gaze.

“I’m sorry, Zach.”

My whole body is numb. I’m incapable of words.

The sound of a rifle cocking echoes through the tunnel. I clench my eyes closed, unable to watch. There’s so much left I have to say to Aiden. There’s so much more I want to do. Instead, I wait for eternal nothingness.

A gunshot rings out, and a body hits the ground next to me. It must be Aiden. Another shot. That one is for me. But I feel nothing. My mind has spared me from the pain.

Then another shot, and another.

Huh?

I open my eyes to see Wayne on the ground staring up at me, his eyes staring with an expression of anguish, but he’s unmoving. Turning to my left, Tyra and the man with the gray goatee are down too. All shot dead.

Aiden is next to me. And he’s still alive.

I’m so light I could float away. And Aiden looks how I feel. Surprised, relieved, and terrified, all mixed together.

Connor and the man with the tattoos shoot down the tunnel indiscriminately. The flash of rifle fire breaks through the darkness deep in the tunnel. The next shot hits the tattooed man in the face. He falls into Connor, who reels in disgust. Another gunshot rings out, and Connor turns and runs.

A man walks out of the darkness, holding a rifle—a large man in blue-jean overalls.

Curtis.

He’s saved us.

He must have been the one following us this whole time when I thought I was being paranoid. But as he gets closer, he’s clutching his side, where a red stain spreads across his overalls.

“Hey, boys. I knew you were going to need help. With those guys hot on your trail, I couldn’t stay back and do nothing. I had to watch out for you.” He takes a knife out of his pocket and cuts the zip ties binding our hands.

Then he collapses in a heap on the ground.

*

AIDEN

“Curtis!” Zach runs over to him.

While Zach checks on Curtis, I scan the area, trying to absorb everything that happened. Four people lie dead on the ground. All of Connor’s mercenaries. But Connor is nowhere to be seen.

I grab the rifle that I dropped earlier and approach the tunnel exit. Peeking my head out, I scan the trail and the surrounding woods. No sign of Connor. Back in the tunnel, Zach is at Curtis’s side. And Curtis doesn’t look well. His face is pale, and a pool of blood has formed beneath him.

Zach looks up at me. “We need to get some pressure on—”

“No, you don’t,” Curtis cuts in, straining, using his last bit of energy to talk. “I’ll be gone in a minute. I can feel it. Plus, this is a helluva better way to go than sitting around waiting for the cancer to eat me alive.”

“Don’t talk like that, Curtis. We’re going to get you fixed up.” Zach’s looking frantically at the ever-growing blood stain on Curtis’s overalls.

“Just glad I could—ugh—help you two one last time.” Each word is a struggle. “The letter. Don’t forget—” He trails off. His eyes are open, staring upward. But Curtis is gone.

Zach weeps openly. I’m crying too. I put my arm around him, and he buries his face into my chest. I try to make sense of what just happened. Any of the bodies lying here could have easily been Zach. And if he’s really not immune to the Infection, having him anywhere near me is dangerous beyond comprehension. His immunity was a constant for me. I never doubted it. I dread what I must do, and I worry Zach will never forgive me.

After a moment, I whisper into his ear. “Zach, I know you won’t want to hear this. But it’s time to go.”

“We can’t just leave him here like this.” Zach looks down at Curtis with a pained expression.

“We’ll come back for him. But Connor is still out there, and he could be back any minute. He might have reinforcements. We need to leave. Now.”

I pull Zach up. He’s clutching Curtis’s body, but I tear him away.

Then I take him by the shoulders and look him in the eye. I need to convince him this is the right thing to do. But I’ll be breaking the one promise I made to him. The one I knew I couldn’t keep if it came to protecting his life. I don’t know how he’ll react. “Zach, there’s something else I need to say. With you not immune, it’s too dangerous for you to be around the vials. We’ll meet up after I’m done, but I have to finish this alone.”

“What?” Zach reels away from me, looking like I slapped him. “You said we’d stay together! You promised me!”

“That was before I knew you weren’t immune. You were never exposed by your uncle, were you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Zach looks wretched. “Because I was too damn ashamed, that’s why. I let him die alone on the porch. And you kept assuming I was immune. I never said it once. You did!”

“You should have told me.”

“Just like you should have told me what was in those vials!”

“I couldn’t do that—”

“I’m sick of hearing that!” His face transforms into a twisted mix of sadness and anger. “Do you realize Connor was more truthful to me than you were?”

That hits me like a punch in the gut, and my anger rises. “How can you say that? Connor is a traitor. He tried to kill us. I took an oath to the Collective.”

“Didn’t you make an oath to me too? When will you trust me enough to let me take my own risks?”

“Look what happened.” I gesture to Curtis. “That could easily have been you. It almost was you. I couldn’t live with myself if you died. And you being near the vials? If I so much as set my backpack down too hard, I might have killed you.”

Tears flow down Zach’s cheeks, but he grits his teeth in anger, and he’s breathing hard. Seeing him like this is tearing me apart.

“I need to finish this on my own. We can arrange to meet—”

“Fine, Aiden! If you want to go alone, then just go!” Zach shakes his head. “Better yet, I’ll go!” He pushes past me, then runs over to one of the bikes, grabbing his backpack on the way. He jumps on and starts the engine.

“Zach, wait!” I run over toward him.

He revs up the dirt bike. “Goodbye, Aiden.”

“How will I find you again?” I yell desperately as he speeds away.

I run to the other dirt bike. Maybe if catch up, I talk some sense into him. I only want to split up as long as I still carry the vials. It would be too dangerous to have him around.

The vials. Where’s the box?

Wayne was holding it when Curtis saved us. I run over to Wayne’s body to search for it. The little aluminum box I’ve been protecting lies on the ground beside him. There’s a hole in the side of it. I swipe the box off the ground and open it. A bullet has entered and exited cleanly through. But the bullet smashed one vial to pieces.

Oh fuck.

The bullet’s impact would have dispersed XT58 throughout the tunnel. Zach must have been exposed. There’s a pain in my chest, and my heads swims, nearly falling over.

“Zach!” I cry out with all the air in my lungs. But it’s useless. The sound of his dirt bike has faded into the distance.

I grab my backpack, stow the vials, then hop onto the other bike. But the engine won’t start. That’s when the smell of gasoline hits me. The gas tank is riddled with bullet holes with a puddle of fuel collecting on the tunnel floor.

“Fuck!” I smash my fists on the instrument panel of the bike.

How did I handle that so terribly? I didn’t think he’d run off like that. I thought we could work it out. But with everything that happened, it’s hard to blame him. And as usual, my efforts to protect Zach have put him in even greater danger.

I’ve got to try to find him. I hop off the bike, then push it by the handlebars until I’m out of the tunnel. A gravel trail runs to the west, heading downward and cutting through the forest. I’m right at the top of Snoqualmie Pass, so hopefully, this trail descends for a long time, and I can coast down.

I run along the trail, holding on to the bike to work up some speed, then hop on. The bike picks up momentum on the sloping trail, which continues as far as I can see. I tuck my head and use the brakes sparingly. At one point, the speedometer hits forty. With any luck, this bike can get me most of the way to Seattle. Or, at the very least, to a town where I can try to find a car.

The entire way down, I process my new reality. Zach is probably not immune, and he’s most likely been exposed. If that’s the case, his symptoms will start soon. I glance at the Casio watch Zach gave me. It’s Saturday, 11:45 a.m. Tomorrow morning, he’ll start coughing and feeling fatigued. By tomorrow night, he’ll feel terrible, with fever and chills. On Monday, he’ll barely be able to move. Most people don’t make it much past day three. But those who do…fuck. The thought of Zach going through that makes my whole chest ache.

He’s most likely headed to his parent’s home on Vashon Island, but I have no idea where on the island it is. The only thing I know is that their house is on the water. But Vashon Island is huge, so that doesn’t narrow things down enough for me to try to find him there.

As much as it tears me up, my best bet is to finish the job. I’ll head to the bunker at UW Medical Center and deliver the vials so they can synthesize a cure. Without that, I’m of no help to Zach, anyway. Then maybe I can figure out a way to track him down. I shake my head. My plan seems hopeless.

As I continue downward, I’m wracked with this overwhelming guilt. Even if I deliver the vials, find the cure, and somehow find Zach, will he ever forgive me? I may have ruined the best thing that’s happened in my life. Only time will tell.