Chapter Forty-Three

Adam had arranged a flight to Anchorage. The answers were in Alaska with Henry Berenger. Or maybe Henry was already dead and they would have to piece together the truth from whatever evidence was left.

The plane was ready when they were. First, Eli had a side trip to make, and Adam had also arranged a helicopter for this part.

Riley was beside him. She already looked better, though her eyes were closed. She was wearing modified protection gear—they both were. He wasn’t taking any chances. If Amber was fine, then the last thing he wanted to do was take the infection to her.

Riley’s viral loads were being monitored every hour. So far they were responding to the serum and decreasing, hopefully to a level where the antiretroviral drugs would prove effective. While it wasn’t a cure, it would keep her alive.

His lab was producing as much serum as they could from Jason’s blood. It wasn’t much and would be kept for key personnel. Maybe not fair, but certain people were needed more than others right now. Unfortunately, it was too late for Leo. Eli had just gotten word that the mathematician had died in the night.

Eli hadn’t taken the serum himself, his viral levels were already low, responding well to the antiretrovirals. Instead, he had the second dose with him—just in case—and a supply of the antiretroviral drugs. Hopefully, Amber wouldn’t need either. He was feeling optimistic. She would be fine.

The production of synthetic antibodies had already begun, and labs across the globe were moving into production, but it would be at least a week before they would be ready. And the death toll was rising.

Production of the antiretroviral drugs was also in full swing, and they were starting distribution. Anyone still in the first phase could be treated—after that, they were ineffective. It was nowhere near enough, but it might ensure the survival of humanity.

And that was a better result than he’d imagined.

The helicopter settled down in a clearing about a hundred feet from the cabin. He grabbed his bag with the precious serum from the floor at his feet and was unfastening his harness as they touched down.

He’d see her, make sure she was okay and that she knew things were going better. Then he’d leave her the drugs and get the hell out of there. Her best bet was still to stay clear and maybe she’d get lucky and they’d get this monster under control and she could come home.

It was a hot day, the sun bright in the blue sky, and sweat trickled down the back of his suit, reminding him of that first day in Iznájar. It seemed a lifetime ago. He was already calling her name as he crossed the space. “Amber!”

God, let her be all right.

“Amber!”

Nothing moved. Behind him he could hear the slow thwack of the blades. The pilot was stopping only long enough to check Amber was okay; then they were heading to the airport.

He came to a halt at the doorway, felt Riley come up behind him, rest a hand on his arm. “You want me to go in?”

He shook his head. He knew what she meant. In case his daughter was dead. She couldn’t be dead. He wouldn’t believe it. Maybe she was sick and every second counted.

He pushed open the door, and the buzz of insects, the stench of decay stopped him in his tracks.

Something broke inside him. He should have kept her close. He stepped through the door and couldn’t go any farther. Riley brushed past him and stared down at the body on the sofa. “It’s not her, Eli.”

“No.” He could tell that from the size of the body. Small. A child, maybe five or six. Clearly dead for at least a day, probably longer.

Riley crossed the room, peered into the kitchen, then into the bedroom. “She’s not here.”

The breath left him. But the relief lasted only a moment.

She’d been exposed. They would never find her in time. She could have gone in any direction. Probably trying to get back to Baltimore, still believing he would save her. She would never make it—he’d seen the roadblocks as they’d flown across the country. She would have been picked up, taken to one of the hundreds of quarantine centers.

He’d failed her.

He turned. “Come on—we have to go.” He would look for her. Go to the nearest centers, work his way out. Alaska would have to wait.

He left the dimness of the cabin and stepped onto the veranda. He blinked, his eyes pricking. Maybe she would survive. Maybe she’d be one of the lucky ones, and the drugs would reach her in time. But there were so many.

“Eli,” Riley said softly from beside him. He glanced at her, and she gestured toward the edge of the forest.

His heart stopped.

He ran over and sank to his knees beside her. His mind was screaming and his hand trembled as he reached out. He could feel the coldness of her body even through the gloves he wore.

Too late!

The words shrieked through his mind.

Yet again he’d failed.

He stroked her hair; her eyes were closed and she looked peaceful in death.

A red pill bottle was clasped in her closed fist.