PS: If we both make it through this, I’ll wait for you every Sunday in Volunteer Park in Seattle. At the Black Sun statue at noon.
Oh, my god. Aiden left explicit instructions for us to meet if we got split up. It was under my nose the whole time, and I forgot about it.
My watch says 1:29 p.m., Sunday.Crap. I’m an hour and a half late. But Volunteer Park isn’t far. Maybe I can still catch him. I run out of the house, jump on my bike, and race to the park as fast as possible.
*
AIDEN
I’ve been waiting for Zach all day.
I woke up this morning at first light and stared at the statue from on top of the water tower. By 9:00 a.m., I’d packed up camp and waited nearby, alternating between standing next to the statue, sitting at a park bench, and pacing around the area. I spent the whole time poring over my maps and trying to make sense of the encrypted writing. I have some leads but no breakthroughs yet.
Noon came and went. Then one.
Now, it’s one thirty, and I’m fighting despair. Zach hasn’t come. He either doesn’t remember the note or hasn’t forgiven me. And if his symptoms haven’t progressed enough for him to realize he’s sick, he’ll die before next week. Or worse, he’ll go on living as one of thosethings. I’m a total wreck.
I want to stay longer, but this place weighs on me heavily. This statue now symbolizes Zach’s rejection of me—a monument to my failure. With a heavy heart, I walk down the tree-lined path back to where I parked.
As I approach the car, I become aware of a rumbling sound in the distance. It’s getting closer. It’s the sound of a motorcycle engine. I jump in the air, pumping my fists.
I spin around and sprint back to the statue. My lungs burn, but I keep going the whole way. As I reach the statue, a motorcycle approaches with a lone rider.
It’s Zach. He made it. He’s alive.
Zach parks the motorcycle near me and hops off it. He doesn’t even set the kickstand, and the bike hits the ground with a nasty crunch. But neither of us cares as we both run toward each other. Zach leaps up and jumps into my arms.
I lift him and spin him around. We’re both laughing and crying at the same time. I squeeze him tightly and whisper into his ear. “Zach, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about the vials, and for wanting to leave you. I should have trusted you. Let you take your own risks. I never want to be gone from your side again.”
Zach chokes out a response between sobs. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you enough to tell you about my uncle and ran off like I did. You were trying to protect me, like always. I should have waited to hear you out.”
We both hold on tight. And then Zach starts coughing. Not a short cough or two, but a full coughing fit. I set him down, my heart wrenching. I put my hand on his forehead. He clearly has a fever.
“I think I might be coming down with something.” Zach’s sad eyes gaze into mine.
I’m wracked with unimaginable worry and guilt. I have to tell Zach about the broken vial, but I fear he’ll be so upset that he’ll hate me and run off again. But I have to do it.
“Aiden, what’s wrong?”
“In the tunnel—” My voice is shaking, and I barely form words. “A bullet hit my aluminum box. One vial was smashed.”
Zach takes a step back from me. His mouth falls open, and his eyes are wide. He backs into the base of the statue and sits down with a blank expression. He says in a totally flat voice, “Did you find the lab?”
I take a deep breath. “The lab is abandoned. But I think it’s just moved. I have a lead.”
“How long do I have?”
“Zach, let’s concentrate on trying to find the—”
“How long?” he says forcefully.
“It’s been twenty-six hours since you were exposed. In the next twelve hours, you’ll be going downhill fast. By tomorrow, you won’t be able to move much.”
“And after that?”
I’m unable to meet his gaze. “Nobody makes it much past day three.”
Zach stares past my shoulder off into the distance. “Everyone’s dead. Mom, Dad, Felix, James, Curtis.”
