Recompense

TWENTY-THREE

Berg hits me like a freight train, and I am crushed between the ground and his body. The breath whooshes out of me. The gun flies from my hands and tumbles across the ground, coming to a stop at Phillips' feet. He picks it up and levels it at me while Berg drags me upright, pinning my arms to my sides.

"Put the gun down," Ethan demands.

I can hardly breathe, but I thrash in Berg's arms. "Let me go!" I snarl.

Berg holds me easily. He sounds completely bewildered. "What's the matter with her?"

"I think she caught whatever is infecting and changing these men," Ethan says.

"It's catching?"

"Only if you're genetically predisposed." Ethan reaches a hand out to touch my face. I can see the worry in his eyes. "Jack?"

With my arms disabled, I have only my feet and my teeth to fight with. I use both, landing a kick on his knee and nearly catching his thumb in my mouth. I give a mighty wrench and almost free myself, but Berg is too strong.

Ethan pulls back, the concern doubled on his face. "Get her out of here. Tie her up and set someone to guard her, but see that she doesn't get hurt. I'll deal with her when we're finished cleaning up here."

"Ethan," Berg asks, "are we all at risk?"

"No," he says with certainty. "Only her."

Berg drags me to the armored vehicle. I thrash and kick and scream all the way there. The driver pops out, his eyes bulging. "What's wrong with her?"

Phillips has followed us. "The captain thinks she caught whatever made these jerks kidnap the women."

"Cripes! You wouldn't know it's the same girl." The driver backs up several steps.

"The captain said we're safe," Phillips says.

"How does he know?"

"I guess we'll have to trust him," Berg growls. "Help me secure her."

I put up such a fight that it takes Berg, Phillips, and the driver to bind me hand and foot. Then I'm placed in the back of the AV, which is driven back to the service station, and Phillips plants himself outside the door. At first he tries to talk to me, to calm me down and fill me in on what's happening. But when he sees the updates only make me more agitated, he gives up. I need to get free. I must...do something. I'm not sure what. Or why. It's all a great confusion. But the drive is so strong. The idea so dominant in my brain.

The people. The culture.

Eventually, my screaming and flailing brings Ethan. He is carrying a syringe.

I writhe violently, throwing myself across the floor of the AV and twisting in my bonds. "Get away from me!" I screech. "Let me go! Get away!"

Ethan reaches in to grab my arm. I spiral away, lashing out with my feet and shrieking like someone possessed. He grabs my leg and drags me back. I beat at him with my bound fists, but he stabs the needle into my neck.

The effect is almost instantaneous. My strength fades. My voice dies. The only weapon I have left is my deadly glare. I fire it at him full force. I see the torment in his eyes and hear the hitch in his voice. "Jack, I'm so sorry."

Then the world goes dark.

***

I live in a cyclone of terror. Shapes and images morph into each other, whirling, blurring. I am running. Always running. Through landscapes smudged with purple, black, and gray. I bolt past Opal, who cries out and reaches a hand to me, but I'm unable to stop. I must keep running. To where, I can't say. And I don't know why. Only that I must go.