The Fever Code (Page 65)

“He’s one of the reasons I’m so cautious. I’ve come here to visit him once a week or so for months. We’d developed a…friendship…even before all this started. We’ve talked for hours upon hours. About our former lives, WICKED, the blueprint’s progress. He stopped bothering to lock the door over a month ago. But my point is, over that time he’s changed.”

“Who else do you think might have it?” Teresa asked.

“We’re about to find out—if he hasn’t destroyed the original test results.” She went to the chancellor’s desk—scattered with the framed photos of his lost loved ones they’d seen on their previous visit—and opened up his display screen. “For all his security fears, he hasn’t been very original with passwords.” She smiled at that, then got to work, using the keyboard as well as the touch functions on the screen itself. A blue glow filled the room with a ghostly pall.

“Shouldn’t take too long…,” she said absently.

Thomas was struck with a sudden thought: what if he wasn’t really immune like they’d always told him? He did worry about that every once in a while, but surely he would’ve gotten the disease by now. A memory of the horrible Crank pits flashed through his mind.

Dr. Paige maneuvered her way through several layers of security on the chancellor’s computer until she finally got to a spreadsheet listing the full roster of WICKED employees in the complex, from cafeteria workers to doctors and Psychs to the test subjects themselves. She scrolled through a few records until she got to a tab for administration; she clicked on it and an image of Chancellor Anderson’s face flashed onto the screen. His beaming smile couldn’t have been more incongruous with the situation at hand. Dr. Paige dove deeper into the data and found the test results from the end of the day before. Although he’d basically already accepted what it would be, when Thomas saw the verification literally flashing right before his eyes—in red, no less—it sent a chill to every corner of his body.

Chancellor Kevin Anderson had the Flare.

And, as it turned out, so did a few others at WICKED.

231.05.05 | 3:42 a.m.

Nineteen of the one hundred and thirty-one doctors, Psychs, scientists, technicians, nurses, and other staff inside the WICKED complex turned out to be sick. All high-ranking officials, mostly in Anderson’s circle. No wonder they’d conspired to keep it from everyone else.

Dr. Paige had whisked Thomas and Teresa back to her room and locked them inside, explaining that she now had to fully initiate the Purge protocol and make sure everything was in motion. That she’d return soon. Two hours later she came back, and she had Aris and Rachel with her. As they came in from the hallway, Dr. Paige dropped four loaded backpacks onto the floor.

“What are those for?” Teresa asked.

“I’ll explain everything,” the doctor answered. “I’m going to need the four of you desperately today.”

Thomas gave them a friendly nod, which was returned. Aris seemed to have grown older, lines crossing his face like little marks of worry. Rachel had cut her hair even shorter, and there was a sadness in her dark eyes. But she stood confidently, and something about these two encouraged Thomas.

Dr. Paige showed no signs of wearing down. She’d taken charge with gusto.

“This is what my people have figured out,” she said. “Anderson has all the infected hidden away in Sector D, and judging from their symptoms, a few of them appear to be pretty far along. It explains why we haven’t seen their faces around lately. I’ve locked down that entire wing of the complex.

“I’ve checked and rechecked the original medical tests from yesterday. Other than Anderson, who’s still in his office, and Randall, somewhere out in the forest, it seems that we have all the infected contained. Everyone outside of Sector D is clean.”

She paused for a couple of deep breaths. “But we can’t waste a single second. We need to clear those people out, and we need to do it fast. I have some brave guards who are willing to risk infection, but I just can’t bring myself to lose another life to this disease. Which is where you come in.”

She stopped speaking, letting her words hang in the air, and the realization of what she was saying suddenly hit Thomas like a lightning bolt.

“You mean…”

She nodded, her expression showing how hard it was to say what came next. “You’re all immune, and you’re the oldest and strongest of those not in the maze. We’re dealing with people who are very sick and weak—more important, though, is that most of them are asleep, which is why we have to act right now. These backpacks have syringes filled with a solution that’s been prepared for this task—all it takes is a quick plunge into their necks and the job is done. You should be able to do it with no problems.”

Thomas felt his knees go weak, and sat on the floor to hide it.

Aris finally said the words no one else could.

“So…we’re just going to kill them all?”

“They’ll die anyway,” Teresa said immediately, shocking Thomas out of his thoughts.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, standing back up. He looked at his friend, wondering if this was some attempt to relieve her of guilt or if she’d really grown such a hard shell around herself for protection. “We have to think this through.”

“No, Tom,” Teresa snapped. “It’s be tough now or everyone dies later.”

Thomas slumped back to the floor, so dazed his vision had gone a little blurry. He had no response. She’d also cut off their mind connection. All he could do was look at her.