Eva read the letter once. Then again. Then a third time.
The paper was folded roughly, the edges creased from being carried. Lily's handwriting was sharp, angular—the handwriting of someone who had learned to write quickly, to get words down before they disappeared.
Hey Eva,
I know it's all too much. And I just left, and now you have a letter. But I had to tell you—the virus that's killing me, it's contained in Facility X. The same one where Theo died. I don't have the exact location, so I need help.
I know I've been troublesome. Annoying. A bad sister. But I just want you guys to find the lab. Nothing else. You don't have to do anything at all if you don't want to. I still get it.
P.S. You're a dummy.
Lily
Eva's hands were steady. Her breathing was steady. Her heart—her heart was anything but.
She folded the letter carefully, precisely, and tucked it into her pocket. Then she stood.
She would be damned if she let her sister do this alone. She would find that lab. And she would fucking destroy it.
"Wolfen."
He was sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over his face, doing an excellent impression of someone who was still recovering from a fight he'd started. At the sound of her voice, he sat up so fast he nearly fell off.
"Yes, Evie?"
"Find me that fucking lab."
Wolfen's eyes lit up. He was already moving, grabbing his jacket, heading for the door. "Roger."
"I'm going with him." Zoey was on her feet, grabbing her own gear. "If I'm not with him, he'll do something stupid. Like always." She shot Wolfen a look that was equal parts exasperated and fond. "Someone has to babysit."
Leo stood. "Yo, Derek. Jordan. Let's go find that shithole."
Derek and Jordan were already moving, falling into step beside him, a unit that had been fighting together longer than any of them cared to count.
Dave pushed himself up from his chair, joints popping audibly. "I'll do something useful, rather than sitting around like an old man."
"You are an old man," Lena said, but she was smiling.
"I'm only a hundred and forty-seven," Dave muttered, heading for the door. "That's not old. That's... seasoned."
Lena watched them go—Wolfen and Zoey, Leo and Derek and Jordan, Dave shuffling after them with more energy than he'd shown in weeks. Then she looked at Eva and Maya.
"You go. I'll look after the cabin. Someone should be here when you get back."
Eva nodded once. "Come on, Maya."
They walked out together, leaving Lena standing in the doorway, her eyes on Jordan's retreating back.
She watched until the forest swallowed him, then turned back inside.
The cabin was very quiet.
---
Lily's Facility
Bill adjusted his glasses, staring at the sample under the microscope. Lily's blood was... wrong. Not just infected—black. The cells didn't look like cells anymore. They looked like something else. Something that was slowly consuming everything it touched.
"There's no antidote." Lily's head was down on her arms, her voice muffled. "Stop trying, kid."
Bill's eyebrows rose. "Excuse me? 'Kid'?"
Lily lifted her head just enough to squint at him. "Yes. Kid."
"I'm twenty-seven."
"And I'm a hundred and nine." She dropped her head back onto her arms. "So. Kid."
Bill opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. The math was, admittedly, not in his favor. He turned back to the microscope.
"But I'm not giving up." His voice was quiet, but firm.
Lily watched him through half-closed eyes. The kid—Bill, she corrected herself, his name was Bill—had been working for hours. Maybe days. She'd lost track. He'd taken samples, run tests, cross-referenced data, and every time he came back with nothing, he just... started again.
He didn't sigh. Didn't complain. Didn't throw things like Henry did when experiments failed. Just reset and began.
"Fine," she muttered. "Bring me coffee."
She lit a cigarette, the smoke curling up toward the ceiling. Bill nodded, already heading for the door.
"Black, no sugar, right?"
Lily blinked. "How do you know that?"
Bill shrugged, already halfway out the door. "I notice things."
He disappeared down the corridor.
Lily stared at the empty doorway for a long moment. Then she shook her head and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes.
Twenty-seven years old. Not a kid at all.
I notice things, he'd said.
She wondered what else he noticed. The way her hands shook sometimes. The way she couldn't finish a cigarette anymore without coughing. The way she looked at the photograph of Eva on her shelf when she thought no one was watching.
She opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling.
Find the lab, she'd written. You don't have to do anything.
She'd meant it when she wrote it. She'd meant every word.
But she knew her sister.
Eva would find the lab. Eva would burn it to the ground. And Eva would be there, standing beside her, when the clock finally ran out.
The cigarette burned down to her fingers. She didn't feel it.
She was already thinking about the next letter.