him. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
“I know,” I say. “I’ll get you to the Farm. There’ll be a doctor or something.”
“No.” He’s shaking his head, but I don’t know if it’s because he thinks I’m wrong, or if he disagrees. “Have to get away. From the others.”
“Others? What others?”
“The other Ticks. On the helicopter. There were four of you.”
“Four? Four of me?” He’s shaking his head again and I realize that this is just my brain being sluggish. Not four of
me
. Four people who’d been exposed to the virus.
“The others haven’t woken up yet. They were sedated longer than you. But they’ll wake up soon.” He clutches my arm again. The strain of talking is wearing on him. Blood pools in the corners of his mouth. His lips are bright red with it and the rich, coppery scent of it drifts up to me. The blood is beautiful against his too-pale, too-cold skin. I’m so distracted by it I almost miss his next words. “Men like that. They’ll probably have immersion delirium, too. They’ll be mindlessly violent. That’s before they turn into Ticks.”
Turn into Ticks.
And that’s what I’ll be, too.
I will be a Tick.
I’m transforming already. The chills. The aches. They are signs of my body morphing into something else. The sudden fascination with my father’s blood.
Oh God.
Oh God.
It’s happening already.
I push my father off my lap and scramble away. I have to stop this. I have to.
But how?
I scuttle back to him, almost as fast. “You can’t let this happen. You have to kill me. Do it now.”
He shakes his head. “No. It’s okay. You’ll be fine. You just have to get us to the Farm.”
“To a Farm?”
“They’ll protect you. Put you back under. Until the cure.”
I rear up and look around. If there is a Farm nearby, I don’t see it.
If I knew where it was, could I get there in time? Would they really take me in? The Farms feed the Ticks, but they keep them out. They don’t lure them in and protect them. I can’t go to a Farm. And I don’t even trust them to kill me, because that’s not what they do. The Farm system is about controlling the Ticks, not eradicating them.
No. I have to find a way to kill myself. I have to do it before I become a mindless, conscienceless monster.
CHAPTER NINE
MEL
Roberto’s house is a Victorian mansion by way of the Addams Family. It’s three stories of Gothic gingerbread and frilly wrought iron. It is not a fortress you can hole up in to protect yourself from an angry mob of monsters.
I haul Sebastian up the steps and through the front door, which had been left open during the battle that had happened here the previous day.
“Do you think there are already Ticks in the house?” I ask, almost hesitant to close the door behind me. I
so
don’t want to lock myself in with the monsters.
The question is rhetorical, since I’m not sure Sebastian is capable of answering.
I look around the house as I shut the door behind us. There can’t possibly be more Ticks inside the house than there are outside it. I glance down at Chuy, who is sniffing the air but not freaking out. To my left is Roberto’s “study,” where he kept a creepy collection of vampire assassination tools—those I’ll pilfer later. For now, I need a place to stash Sebastian while I secure the house. To my right is an elegant living room with—thank God—a sofa and a fireplace, which might prove useful if we live long enough for me to tend to Sebastian’s wounds.
I hobble with him into the living room and dump him on the camelback sofa, too worried about the monsters on the outside to take care of the monster inside. I run back to the door, Chuy by my side, throwing the dead bolts—there are several. Chuy and I dash through the rest of the first floor. I check doors and windows, watching him for signs there might be something hiding that even I can’t sense. We check the second and third floors just to be sure there aren’t Ticks
“I know,” I say. “I’ll get you to the Farm. There’ll be a doctor or something.”
“No.” He’s shaking his head, but I don’t know if it’s because he thinks I’m wrong, or if he disagrees. “Have to get away. From the others.”
“Others? What others?”
“The other Ticks. On the helicopter. There were four of you.”
“Four? Four of me?” He’s shaking his head again and I realize that this is just my brain being sluggish. Not four of
me
. Four people who’d been exposed to the virus.
“The others haven’t woken up yet. They were sedated longer than you. But they’ll wake up soon.” He clutches my arm again. The strain of talking is wearing on him. Blood pools in the corners of his mouth. His lips are bright red with it and the rich, coppery scent of it drifts up to me. The blood is beautiful against his too-pale, too-cold skin. I’m so distracted by it I almost miss his next words. “Men like that. They’ll probably have immersion delirium, too. They’ll be mindlessly violent. That’s before they turn into Ticks.”
Turn into Ticks.
And that’s what I’ll be, too.
I will be a Tick.
I’m transforming already. The chills. The aches. They are signs of my body morphing into something else. The sudden fascination with my father’s blood.
Oh God.
Oh God.
It’s happening already.
I push my father off my lap and scramble away. I have to stop this. I have to.
But how?
I scuttle back to him, almost as fast. “You can’t let this happen. You have to kill me. Do it now.”
He shakes his head. “No. It’s okay. You’ll be fine. You just have to get us to the Farm.”
“To a Farm?”
“They’ll protect you. Put you back under. Until the cure.”
I rear up and look around. If there is a Farm nearby, I don’t see it.
If I knew where it was, could I get there in time? Would they really take me in? The Farms feed the Ticks, but they keep them out. They don’t lure them in and protect them. I can’t go to a Farm. And I don’t even trust them to kill me, because that’s not what they do. The Farm system is about controlling the Ticks, not eradicating them.
No. I have to find a way to kill myself. I have to do it before I become a mindless, conscienceless monster.
CHAPTER NINE
MEL
Roberto’s house is a Victorian mansion by way of the Addams Family. It’s three stories of Gothic gingerbread and frilly wrought iron. It is not a fortress you can hole up in to protect yourself from an angry mob of monsters.
I haul Sebastian up the steps and through the front door, which had been left open during the battle that had happened here the previous day.
“Do you think there are already Ticks in the house?” I ask, almost hesitant to close the door behind me. I
so
don’t want to lock myself in with the monsters.
The question is rhetorical, since I’m not sure Sebastian is capable of answering.
I look around the house as I shut the door behind us. There can’t possibly be more Ticks inside the house than there are outside it. I glance down at Chuy, who is sniffing the air but not freaking out. To my left is Roberto’s “study,” where he kept a creepy collection of vampire assassination tools—those I’ll pilfer later. For now, I need a place to stash Sebastian while I secure the house. To my right is an elegant living room with—thank God—a sofa and a fireplace, which might prove useful if we live long enough for me to tend to Sebastian’s wounds.
I hobble with him into the living room and dump him on the camelback sofa, too worried about the monsters on the outside to take care of the monster inside. I run back to the door, Chuy by my side, throwing the dead bolts—there are several. Chuy and I dash through the rest of the first floor. I check doors and windows, watching him for signs there might be something hiding that even I can’t sense. We check the second and third floors just to be sure there aren’t Ticks
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