Immunity Hunter

Chapter Five - Ronan Henslee

We might not all make it in the end, but that doesn't stop me from trying.

Cypresis is the answer to getting rid of The Organization. At least, that's what I was told when they recruited me. After hearing about people vanishing without a trace or what's left of their bodies turning up outside the wall, I knew something had to be done. Cypresis are the only people offering any kind of retaliation.

My handler, Alec, created Cypresis after he noticed something weird happening with The Organization. He used his contacts and training from years as an Eradication Squad member to gather information. Alec mentioned he was on the police side of the squad and not the military side. That might explain why he has us doing detective work instead of working as a private army.

The Organization isn't lying about the antidote, but how they're creating it is a mystery. They distribute small doses to the hospital in case anyone is lucky enough to get treatment before they die from the virus.

I sit at wooden desk my granddad made me years ago staring at the computer screen. Paper covers most of the desk and the floor around it. Mom gripes at me for not keeping it clean, but whatever. I should probably sort through that but it's probably all trash anyway. The cursor on the screen blinks at the end of the page. After writing three pages of mainly random information with bits of what Aaron told me sprinkled in, I think I'm done with this report.

The report doesn't need to be extravagant, but I made sure it seemed like I'm doing more than chasing cute girls at festivals.

I get the report done right before noon. There's enough time to shower, get dressed, and head over to headquarters before my dad wakes up from his night of drinking with his buddies. He's not angry when he wakes up, but I don't want him asking questions of why I'm leaving the house so early on a Sunday instead of helping him at the shop. Mom doesn't ask questions when I leave—it's not like I give her much of a chance.

I slip on my dad's old work boots that he gave me last year. He called it a birthday present, a sign I was growing into a man. I call it a hand-me-down and a way to for him to save cash. Still, the thought counted and they fit fine.

"Headed out, Mom," I call out as I'm running out the front door with the printed report in my backpack.

The neighbors across from my house sit on their front lawn watching their two kids play fight with prop swords. The little girl is dressed like an Eradication Squad member. She doesn't look much older than seven. The family next door to the left of me is packing their truck for a day at the beach. The father tips his hat as I walk past.

With school starting next week and the fifth Annual Sweep coming up, people want to spend as much time with family as possible. Meanwhile, I'm running around playing spy to save the city from an even worse threat than the Konadai.

Cypresis Headquarters sits in the middle of downtown tucked away in an office building. The quickest way there is by bus, but no buses run on Sunday. We have City Hall to blame for that. The leaders of Caara Island decided it was best to give public transportation a break once a week. Now, I have to make the journey downtown on foot. Who even asks for a written report on a Sunday? Okay, yes, I volunteered out of panic. Still, Alec could've asked me to hold it until Monday.

I don't mind walking. The weather this time of year is perfect for long walks through the entire freaking city.

The winds pick up, blowing heavily through the wisteria trees surrounding the neighborhood. It's our own little lavender-blue forest on this secluded island.

Each house in the neighborhood is different and has their own twist making this—in my opinion—one of the more interesting places to live. None of that cookie-cutter stuff you see in the townhouses downtown or the large fancy homes in Nevin's upscale neighborhood.