The Girl Who Kissed the Sun (Death Fields 4)

Again the two look at one another. They’re young, but the bond between them is strong. They hold hands, fingers wrapped tight together. “My mother was one of the women from the church that was infected that first morning. She returned home and spread the virus to my older brother and my father,” Finn tells us. His eyes are cast down. The uneasy feeling in my stomach predicts what he’s going to say next. “I had to kill them all.”

“Finn ran to my house—it’s a farm on the outskirts of town. He was covered in blood.” She looks at him. The fire reflects off her eyes. “And shame.”

He nods.

“There is no shame here, Finn. We’ve all been forced to make awful decisions since the Crisis began,” I say, but my voice betrays any control. Green places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes.

“Finn and I are betrothed. Our wedding was set for two years—when we reach eighteen. This house belonged to the next married couple in town. That wasn’t us—but those people, my brother and his wife, no longer needed it. It had been stocked as a wedding gift. Full of food and supplies. Wood for the fire and stove.”

“They never found you?” Green asks.

“The night we left, a massive snowstorm trapped us in—and kept them out.” We all know the storm they’re talking about. We experienced it as well. Finn continues, “Now that the snow has melted, they’ll find us. You did. But we have no idea where to go from here.”

“We’ve spent our whole lives in this town. Just like our parents and grandparents,” Mary Ellen admits.

The room grows quiet and Jackson stands. “I’m going to go check the upstairs windows.”

“I’ll go too,” Walker says.

Their footsteps retreat on the hardwoods, leaving us alone. Jane stares at her notepad, the wheels in her head turning. Suddenly she writes furiously. Green tugs my sleeve and lifts his eyebrow. I jerk my head and we quietly get up and walk to the kitchen.

“So what’s happening here?” he asks quietly.

“We’re waiting for Jane to figure that out.”

“Do you think she will?”

I cross my arms and lean against the counter. “She always does.”

“You have a lot of faith in her.”

I laugh. “Faith isn’t the right word. It’s more like she’s predictable. Jane needs a project. One for her brain. And mistakes are her weakness. She’ll fix it. ”

“What if it’s too late?”

“For the infected out there? Yeah, it’s probably too late. But this vaccine is going to save the world, and when it fails, it gives us something to work toward.” He watches me and I grow uncomfortable under the scrutiny. Finally I ask, “What?”

“The Ramsey women are pretty impressive, did you know that?”

“We have our moments.” I smile. “Of course we also have a history of destroying mankind, starting ill-prepared revolutions and getting captured. It’s sort of a fifty-fifty shot on how things will turn out.”

Green takes a step forward. “You know, I’m willing to be one of those shots.”

Oh boy, I think, trying to escape his intense gaze. “Green—”

“You can call me Benjamin. I have a first name.” He must sense my unease and says, “There’s no pressure, Ramsey. I’ve just learned there’s not enough time to hold feelings in, you know?”

He turns and leaves the kitchen.

“Green—Benjamin—wait,” I start, but I’m interrupted by an excited voice from the living room. It’s Jane, and I rush back into the room. She’s standing alone in the middle of the room, pencil in hand with a triumphant look on her face.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I figured it out. I know why the vaccine didn’t work.” She beams with excitement. “It was this community specifically—or rather, people that had never been exposed to any childhood vaccines. There must be some crossover in inoculations.”

“That’s good,” I say. “That means we should be okay. I can’t imagine many people back in Catlettsburg or from the Fort not having their childhood vaccines.”

“Hopefully,” she says, but for the first time in a while actually looks hopeful. “I need to get Finn and Mary Ellen back to Catlettsburg and do some further testing in Avi’s laboratory.”