Pete drops his gaze to the floor and bites his bottom lip. He hesitates before responding. “We don’t know that Jack is here, and we can’t risk our lives trying to find out,” Pete says. “As for the Professor, Lily can let her know she’s found you, and she can flee the first chance she has.”
Lily’s brows draw together as she looks at her watch again. Her gaze shoots back toward the lab door. “Something must be wrong. She’s never this late. The Professor usually meets me by now to sneak the kids out of the lab.”
Standing, I place my hands on the hilts of my daggers. “I’m staying. The Professor deserves the chance to be rescued after all she’s done. The rest of you go, and take Joanna with you.”
Shouts erupt beyond the lab door.
“Back to your cage,” a harsh voice says, chortling. “Ahem, I mean lab. Captain’s orders are to bring you and your supplies to the courtyard when you’re done.”
A woman protests loudly as keys jingle in the door lock.
“Get back to the basement!” I whisper, pushing Joanna toward the staircase. We hurry down the steps and through the sliding cabinet. Pete moves the cupboard in place, plunging us into darkness. Next to me, Joanna shakes in a fit of tremors. I wrap an arm around her. Muffled shouts rise from behind the wood panel and after a minute, the room goes quiet. Listening intently, I hear nothing at first, but then the cabinet shudders. I push Joanna behind me and grab both of my daggers. In the blackness, Pete’s daggers let out a metallic scraping sound as he releases them from their sheaths. The click of a gun being cocked to my left assures me that Pickpocket is nearby.
The cabinet slides open. My heart beats rapidly as I get ready to throw my blade, but I don’t get the chance. Both Pete and Pickpocket storm into the crematorium, knocking the intruder down to the floor. Lily bolts to Pete’s side, trying to pry him off the newcomer.
“Wait!” Lily shouts.
“Who are you?” Pete growls, his daggers aimed at the figure.
“The Pro … Professor!” a familiar female voice says, fright evident in her tone.
I peek through the opening, brushing a loose curl from my face. My breath catches when I see her eyes, eyes that are a mirror image of my little sister’s. For a fraction of a second, I wonder if I’m dreaming.
“Mum?” I ask in disbelief.
My mother stares at me and covers her mouth with a hand as she gasps. “Gwen?”
I drop my blades, sending them clattering onto the floor, and push my way through Pete and Pickpocket and into my mother’s arms. Joanna follows behind me. Hot tears rain down my face. I inhale, and her sweet lavender scent consumes me, lifting from me a heavy cloak of despair.
My mother kisses my cheek, and then Joanna’s. “My girls! Look at you!”
I brush a tear away with the back of my hand.
“Gwen, is it really you?” she asks, lifting my chin. My mother breathes a sigh of relief, brushing the loose strands of hair out of my face with her hand. “How did you get here?” The rough fabric of her lab-coat sleeve brushes against my cheek. I notice the emblem of the Marauders on the lapel. My relief gives way to anger as my heart pounds.
“I came to save Joanna.” My words spill sharply, a hundred questions piercing my thoughts. “You’re the Professor?” I ask.
“Why didn’t you come get us?” Joanna demands, her voice laced with venom.
I place my hand on Joanna’s shoulder and she stiffens.
Pain etches my mother’s face as she draws her hands back. “Ever since the war, I’ve been a prisoner. When the bombs destroyed the lab, everyone evacuated except my team and me. I was moving the refrigerated locker that held the Horologia virus to the fallout bunker when the ceiling collapsed. The Marauders found me pinned beneath a concrete slab. I was imprisoned with other survivors the soldiers captured. When the adults started dying off because of exposure to the virus, the Captain brought me from the holding cells, knowing my background in researching biological weapons. It became my job to try to find a cure for the virus. I couldn’t leave, not without knowing you kids were okay. I thought about you every single day,” my mother says.
“You knew about the virus,” I say, accusation thick in my voice. “All this time you knew it existed, and you never mentioned it? You were working with the government this whole time?”
My mother’s brows lift in surprise. “You were children. There was no reason to worry you with what my job entailed or who I worked for. I did it to protect you.”
She reaches for Joanna and me. Joanna jerks away and wraps her arms around my waist, burying her face in my chest. I hold her close, listening to her sniffle through tears. My heart cracks with each of Joanna’s sobs, hairline fissures growing into fractured hunks of tissue and sorrow. “We mourned your death every single day,” I say, fixing my gaze on my mother.