Page 75 of The Infinite Glade
Erros walked over to Ximena, his eyes expectant. She didn’t know what he wanted until he lifted her hand into his. Her thoughts were so dazed she’d forgotten she still had the Cure. She found her backpack, unzipped it, reached inside, hoping she hadn’t crushed the vial while trying to escape the Grievers. The machines clicked and whirred to themselves as they bunched more tightly against the far wall of the carved-out tunnels.
“Where is it?” Erros whispered impatiently.
Ximena pulled her hand from the backpack, relieved to have a vial that wasn’t broken.
“Here,” she muttered to Erros. She’d kinda grown attached to the thing.
“What are you testing us for?” Jackie asked, rubbing her head.
“That thing stabbed me twice but guess I can’t complain.” Miyoko leaned against the wall, looking very calm. “I had a killer headache from all the crying but it’s gone. Completely gone.”
Frypan stood tall without his walking stick; he tapped his hip. “I could’ve used a shot like that years ago. What is it?”
The Senator spoke like a senator, all fancy and high-minded. “It’s likely you all received different doses of different sequences. If you were dispersed an agent, then it was the one you needed. Diagnostics don’t lie.” The man peered down at his tablet as if it held all the answers to all the secrets in the world. Ximena didn’t like him.
“Cowan . . . at the Villa.” Isaac looked at Ximena like she might know something, but Cowan had looked closer to death when they left the Villa than when she’d arrived. Nothing like the islanders looked, now. Taller, happier, healthy.
Ximena shrugged. “I just feel confused and groggy. Doesn’t seem all that great to me.
“Oh.” Erros laughed quietly into his shoulder. “Anger is an emotional toxin that the Sequencers treat with all sorts of different stuff. I guess they read you right.”
“A toxin?” Ximena moved to her hands and knees and then got to her feet.
“Stress. Anger. It’s all frequency. They gave you a relaxant. You’ll balance out to a happy medium, but you’ll probably feel pretty tired in the meantime.” As conspicuously as possible, he handed the Cure vial to his brother, almost bowing afterward like a buffoon.
“Senator Tove, we did it!” Cian said it loud enough to echo through the adjoining tunnels. He held the vial up high.
“Did what?” The man tapped his tablet in frustration. “These are inconclusive for transient markers. All of them but one?” He lifted his head and looked at Cian in anger. “They’ll need to test again.” With a push of the tablet the Grievers all came back to life, churning with noise and movement. A strong thrumming vibrated the ground beneath them.
Ximena groaned.
“No!” Cian lost his mind. He ran at the Senator and pulled the tablet from the man’s hands; he tossed it across the lobby where it landed with a loud crack. “Look, they’re missing transient markers because they’re not part of the otherworld. They’re Immunes. From the original Sequence! Can’t you listen to a damned word we say?”
The Senator was nonplussed, as if this very scenario happened to him every day. “That can’t be,” was all he said in response, showing no anger whatsoever.
“It’s true.” Frypan stepped forward. “I was one of the original Gladers. Test me all you want to know I ain’t lying.”
“They’ve come to meet the Senate,” Cian said.
The man in blue stood there, unmoving, without emotion, without blinking.
“Please,” Erros begged. “Let them be interviewed by the Levels and the Senate before your next vote. The Sequencers deserve to know the truth. All of it.”
Ximena stood in the silence, waiting for some verdict she didn’t even understand. She stared at the line of Grievers and the man in blue, who apparently could change the fate of the Sequencers, maybe the world, with a single wave of his hand.
After what seemed like an hour, he finally spoke. “The third level, then, butonlyto meet the Senate. Then you must vacate immediately.”
Cian whooped with joy, then picked up his brother, swinging him in a circle while they hugged.
Ximena stared at them, baffled beyond measure.What weirdos. But she had to admit, she was starting to feel pretty good inside. Whathadthat Griever stung her with?
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
Deadheads Redux
Orange stood in a soldier’s stance on Minho’s right, and on his left, Kit held two guns, each one pointed at a soldier behind Roxy. Adrenaline had rushed through Minho’s body, just enough to walk to the center of the Glade. His wounds and face were covered by the Junior Grief Bearer’s cloak. The Remnants would never tell the difference. All he could taste and smell was the gasoline deep in his throat. But with Orange on one side of him and Kit on the other, he could die happy, now.
The chanting had slowed, then stopped. Silence returned. Despite all that talk about killing the Godhead, no one had rushed forward to actually do it. Minho spoke into the quiet, cool air.
