Was he flirting with me? Not a chance. Robots didn’t flirt. “What about when you go home? What’s to stop you from talking then?”
“Our mission is categorized critical-sensitive. If a guard reveals anything about what he did or saw over here, he’ll be court-martialed.”
Sitting with our shoulders and legs touching felt strange. Awkward. Maybe line guards got used to living up close and personal on the base, but I sure wasn’t used to it. I rarely brushed against anyone other than my dad and Howard. If I slid over, would Everson notice? Would he care?
I rubbed my damp palms on my pants, but stayed put. Why risk offending the only line guard on my side? “How come no one noticed the mutated humans running around before the wall went up?”
“It didn’t start happening until a few years after the wall was finished. During the first wave, if you caught Ferae, you went psychotic and died within days. We’re seeing more of the nonlethal strain now because when the host survives, he goes on to infect more people.”
“Okay.” I crossed my legs and twisted to face him. “But why’s the patrol keeping that secret? So what if we know that people don’t die from Ferae anymore, that they … mutate?” I choked on the word.
“It’s not just the patrol. People in the government know, but they contracted Titan to secure the quarantine line, so they’re following Titan’s protocol.”
“And they’re all keeping quiet about the ferals because … ?” I pressed.
“Think about how fast the exodus happened. A lot of people left without being able to get ahold of family members in other cities and states. By now, they’re assumed long dead. If people start to think there’s a chance their relatives are still alive, they’ll want to go looking for them. They’ll try like crazy to get past the wall and make it impossible to keep the quarantine line secure.” Everson shot me a look. “When you’re worried about someone you love, you don’t care about anyone else’s health — sometimes not even your own.”
Ouch.
I sat back against the door to avoid his gaze. He had a point, but as soon as we got out of this closet, I was going to cross the last bridge. I’d just have to deal with the guilt … and the ferals. Suddenly something Everson had said in the office came back to me. “If Dr. Solis has eighteen strains of Ferae, does that mean people can mutate into eighteen different kinds of animals?”
“Fifty. You can only get infected once, but there are fifty strains of Ferae, each carrying the DNA of a different animal. Until Dr. Solis has a sample of all of them, he can’t even begin to develop a vaccine.”
“If he doesn’t have them all, how does he know there are fifty strains out there?”
Everson looked at his long fingers, which dangled off his knee. “You know where the virus came from, right?”
I nodded. I knew our country’s history. “Titan created it in a lab. They were going to add cool animal hybrids to the mazes in their theme parks.” I couldn’t help sounding excited about it — it did sound fun — but Everson slanted a cranky look at me. “And then some fringe group bombed Titan’s labs,” I went on, “and the infected animals escaped. In reparation, Titan built the wall.”
“The wall was a PR move,” he scoffed.
“I still don’t get how Dr. Solis knows there are fifty strains.”
“When the plague began, Titan’s CEO, Isla Prejean, made Titan’s research available to the scientific community. She was hoping that someone could find a way to stop the spread of infection. That’s how we know there are fifty strains.” Everson’s jaw tightened. “If we’re ever going to reclaim the eastern half of our country, we need a vaccine. Better yet, a cure. And we’re never going to develop either if someone doesn’t go deeper into the Feral Zone and find people infected with the strains that we’re missing.”
“Then what? You’d bring those people here?”
“No. All Dr. Solis needs is a sample of their blood.”
My brows rose. “Good luck collecting that.”
“It’s dangerous, yeah. But I’d go. I volunteered.”
“The patrol won’t let you?”
“The brass won’t even consider it. They say our job is to secure the quarantine line, not cross it.”
“Why doesn’t the president send in the army?” Even before I finished asking it, I knew the answer. “Because our military is a joke.” Anyone who wanted to enlist these days usually chose to work for a private security force, like the line patrol. Not only did corporate militias pay better, they also had state-of-the-art weapons, equipment, and training centers.
“The national armed forces aren’t a joke,” Everson said sternly. “Every branch lost more than half their people during the outbreak because they were stationed in hot zones, trying to contain the spread of infection.”
And clearly he admired them for it. “Are you sure you’re not a guard on the inside?”
A flash of something dark crossed his features and he glanced away.
“Sorry,” I said quickly. “Why did you join the line patrol instead of the army?”
He tipped his head back against the door and stayed silent for a moment. Just as I thought he wasn’t going to answer, he spoke, his voice low and rough. “You know how everyone says their parents are overprotective?”
“Yes, because they are.”
“Okay, take that paranoia, multiply it by a thousand, and you have my mother. She lives in terror of catching Ferae. My father died in the first wave of the plague and she never got over it. When I was growing up, she wouldn’t let me go anywhere or do anything with anyone.”
“Join the club.”
“No, I mean literally.” He turned to me, his expression serious. “She has blowers set up in every room. Plastic sheeting over all the windows and doors. She works from home, so the only people she sees are her employees, who have no choice but to put up with her insane rules. Even my tutors had to change into sanitized clothes before they could come near me.”
“Tutors, as in teachers you met with in person?”
He nodded stiffly. “When I was seven, I tried to sneak out. That’s when my mother told me that I was born with an autoimmune deficiency and that if I ever left home, I’d die.”
I struggled to understand. His mother had lied to him about having a birth defect just to keep him at home? “But it’s not true?”
“Obviously.” He gestured to the air around us.
“Whoa.” And I’d thought I had it bad. Suddenly my dad’s obsession with survival skills and self-defense seemed almost sane. “That’s … um, pretty messed up.”
“Yeah.” He rubbed his forehead like he’d downed a slushy too fast.
“When did you find out that you’re fine?”
“A year ago,” he said, dropping his hand. “I left home that day and joined the patrol. I’d read that there was a doctor on Arsenal working on a cure, so I got myself assigned here. I’d rather fight Ferae head on than spend my life hiding from it.”
“I didn’t know line guards got to choose their assignments.”
“I’m not your average guard,” he said offhandedly. “For one thing, I’ve completed all of the undergrad science courseware and passed the exam.”
“Undergrad as in college?”
“Yes.” At my incredulous look, he shrugged. “I was locked inside for years. What else was I going to do?”
It was possible. Now that school was held online, you could move at your own pace, fast or slow. Even I’d skipped a grade. I sighed inwardly. So what if Everson was smart? He was also a guard who was supposed to keep the quarantine line secure. He was not about to help me find a way to get across the river, which was all that mattered right now.
He nudged my knee. “You’re handling all this really well. That or” — he shifted to see my face — “you’re great at hiding your feelings.”