Page 46 of The Godhead Complex
“What’s happening?!” Isaac looked to Old Man Frypan, their most trusted source of wisdom, but his face didn’t hint at any answers. Isaac frantically searched her skin for a rash. Nothing. No sting marks. No rash.
“We’ve got some bad luck going on around here,” Frypan said.
Isaac, in a panic, looked up at Cowan. “I don’t get it, no rash, you’re still standing but she’s not?” He could feel the warmth radiating from Jackie’s skin. Whatever this was, they had to get to the Villa even more quickly.
“Ithaac . . .”
“It’s okay. We’re going to get you help. The Villa can’t be that far. I’m gonna carry you, okay?” With one big lift Isaac hoisted Jackie into his arms. “You’re okay.” He tried to reassure her with a forced smile but she wasn’t looking back at him.
She was looking rightthroughhim.
“Ithaac,” she slurred, “I can’t thee.”
Isaac walked as fast as he could through the endless neighborhood, Jackie in his arms. His biceps burned, tendrils of flames leaking through his muscles, but he wouldn’t stop to rest until they found someone, anyone, who could help. He’d run if he knew where they were headed, but the uncertainty only aided to the panic in his chest.
“The houses are getting bigger up here, we have to be close,” Frypan offered. They reached a mansion rimmed with circular columns in the front. Something moved.
“There!” Cowan pointed at a person near the front door, but Isaac knew it could just be a wandering Crank. The knife Minho had given him was strapped to his boot, but his best Crank killer lay limp in his arms.
“Please, help!” Cowan shouted; the figure ahead stopped and turned. As they walked closer, Isaac, sweating profusely, breathing with labored heaves of hot air, could see a woman with blonde hair. Despite his weak condition, he started to run, Jackie bouncing in his arms.
“Stop! Don’t come any closer!” The stranger’s voice trembled and cracked, as if she weren’t used to talking so loudly, or talking to other people.
“Please, we just need help.” Isaac slowed down, but he didn’t stop.
“We’re scientists, not doctors. We’re not resetting bones and we sure as hell aren’t a Crank Palace. If she’s got the Flare, you take her there. Hear me?” The woman turned her back on them and opened the door to what Isaac hoped was the Villa.
“Is this the Villa?” he asked in desperation. “Kletter told us about you.”
The woman stilled. Then slowly turned back around. “Kletter? Is she with you?”
“She’s not that far behind us.”Just a bit dead, but you don’t need to know that, he thought. Isaac made eye contact with Cowan and Old Man Frypan, hoping they understood.
The woman looked each of them up and down and eyed Frypan as if she had never seen anyone so old. And maybe living out here among the half-Cranks, she hadn’t. What did Kletter mean to these people to change the stranger’s mind so quickly? “What’s wrong with the girl?” she asked.
Isaac answered, wearily, almost to the absolute end of his strength. “We don’t know, she just started to slur her words, then lost feeling in her legs, and then sight. I think it was in that order. I don’t know. It all happened so fast.”
The woman released a heavy sigh. “Okay, we’ll bring her in. But you all need to stayout hereuntil I get clearance. We can’t compromise our lab.”
“We don’t have the Flare,” Frypan said.
“It’s not the Flare I’m worried about. It’s Evolution. Come on. Lay her down right here, in the doorway. In the next thirty minutes we’ll know if she’ll make it.”
Evolution?Isaac wondered. What was that supposed to mean?
“Wait,” Cowan spoke up, “I need help, too.” She pulled down her scarf and revealed the rash. The woman started shaking her head back and forth so vigorously Isaac thought it might pop off.
She shouted at them, “Let me see all of your necks. Now!” She pointed vigorously at Isaac, then Frypan.
“It’s only the ladies who are sick,” Frypan said as he lifted his chin and turned in a circle, as did Isaac, Jackie still in his arms. The woman walked completely around Frypan to look at his neck again.
“You’re . . . tattooed . . .” She said it in a tone that was somewhere between worship and fear. Probably in disbelief that he could actually be a Glader of Old.
It was Frypan’s turn to sigh. “Yes. I’m a subject from the original Maze trials.” Isaac had never heard him say it out loud like that, but perhaps the scientist would appreciate it being put so formally.More like a hero, Isaac wanted to add.A survivor. A legend.
The woman again appeared conflicted. Honored one moment, horrified the next.
Isaac couldn’t hold Jackie another second. “Can you help us or not?” he asked.
