Tuesday, May 22, 2012

The Infected: Fogo Island (6)

six: a genuine smile

Malory left the cabin twenty minutes ago but the last words she spoke still resonate deep within me: "You might find the reason why your parents went to Tokyo to create a bloody chemical agent that could wipe out the entire human race." She knows who I am; Hell, she knows who my parents are and more importantly, she knows exactly what I suspected along: my parents have something to do with this.

I rummage around the shack, looking for anything that could help me figure out who these people are, when the door opens behind me. I spin around and my heart sinks. Felix is standing in the doorway; his shaggy hair is gone - completly shaved off - and he grins the moment our eyes connect.

"Felix..." I run towards him and jump in his open arms. He smiles, a genuine one too. Our lips meet and it takes all my might to disconnect from the passion.

"I thought they were killing you..." I say, referencing the horrible sight that befell my eyes yesterday. I gently rub his cheeks with the back of my fingers, grateful that he is safe. Felix. My rock.

"Don't worry, it was just a ritual of sorts. A blessing. Nothing harmful, Charlie." He looks away for a split second, and its enough for me to see something is off.

"Felix...what are you hiding?" I turn his cheek towards me and still he refuses to look me in the eye. "What did they do?"

"They didn't do anything, that's the thing," he finally answers. "It's what they said." It comes out barely in a whisper.

I kind of put two and two togheter. What Malory said earlier was probably said to Felix as well. They were definitely playing detectives. They might even think I have something to do with this as well. Guilty by association.

"What did they tell you? They talked about my parents?" Even my tone changes - i'm on the defensive.

He moves me towards the back door, away from the open window that faces the snowy beach.

"Charlie - they asked me where the cure was?"

I take it in. Somethings are starting to make sense. Some don't.

"A cure...?" I whisper.

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