The Girl Who Kissed the Sun (Death Fields 4)

“Like the infected?” she asks, catching my eye. I recognize curiosity more than fear.

“Yeah, sure. They’re not awesome.” I sigh and run my hand over the cotton patches on the quilt. I’m cold and tired enough that I’d like to curl up underneath it and take a nap. “There are other things, worse things, believe it or not. Like the Hybrids who are so strong that they make a rabid Eater look like a piece of cake. Then there’s the humans—you remember them, right? They’re angry and scared and many lost all ethical sense when society fell. They’re terrifying.”

“Stop being so dramatic. I’m aware of the current situation out here. I track everything. I have data.”

Did I mention this was going to be a long trip?

“Do you even know where we’re going?” I ask. “Do you have a plan at all?”

She turns and gives me an incredulous look. “Of course I have a plan.”

“Great!” I exclaim with false enthusiasm. “Care to share it with the rest of the class?”

“We’re headed north, to a town called Catlettsburg. It’s in Eastern Kentucky, on the Ohio River.”

“And what exactly is up there?” As far as I know, we have zero connections with that part of the country. No family. No memories. Although, it’s not like I’ve really been privy to my sister’s private life over the last couple of years. If so, maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

“Well if you must know, during my time at PharmaCorp I had a partner—the original lead scientist. We worked very closely together when I first arrived. He taught me everything I know about the inner workings of a lab outside of a u

niversity setting. When I was asked to take more of a leadership over the Department of Defense contracts—”

“You mean biological warfare,” I interject.

“Yes. The bio-warfare was the primary contract and Avi Patel was not enthusiastic about the program.”

“Sounds like Avi is pretty smart and maybe you should have listened to him.” She gives me a hard look, not amused by my comments. “Okay, so we’re headed to his house.”

“Not just his house. His town.” She sits next to me on the bed. The mattress squeaks from our combined weight. “Avi is the one that prepped the building for an eventual crisis. He created the energy and plumbing systems, managed the food and supplies. He designed the armory and R&D departments. He’s a scientist of survival. He knew one day the end would come. He just didn’t predict we—or rather, I—would be the one to start it.”

There’s little regret in her voice—I’m not sure she’s capable of it any longer or if she ever was. But there is a hint of longing on her face and it’s clear this man, Avi, is important.

“So we’re going to his town.”

“Yes. He picked the location specifically based on its survivability.”

“Does he know we’re coming?” I have no idea if she has the means to communicate with the outside world. Honestly, I don’t know much about my sister anymore.

“We have an open invitation.” She glances at me.

“What?”

“He does have one stipulation.”

“Okay. What is that?”

“I can bring in the vaccine—he has inoculated the town already. I sent him the first successful batch months ago, even before we vaccinated ourselves at the Fort. But he will not allow any other genetic alterations or study to be done.”

“Well, good. I certainly don’t have a problem with that.” I frown. “Do you? You don’t have some kind of evil plan lined up?”

I’m only half-joking.

Jane doesn’t think it’s funny. “No, Alexandra, I don’t. But for the sake of transparency, you should know that Avi isn’t aware of the Hybrids or the war building in the south. He has no idea what I’ve done or what we may be forced to do to stop it.”

That’s when she breaks. She cracks right in front of me. Her strong exterior shatters into a sobbing mass of emotion. The sister I knew and grew up with appears before me and I blink, as though she’s not real.

“Jane?” She doesn’t reply and I do the only thing I know how. I wrap my arms around her and pull her into a hug.

“It will be okay,” I tell her, stroking her hair. It’s a lie and I don’t know why I say it. She deserves worse.