She waited, but he still said nothing, only stared at her.
“This was my backup plan. We needed to get back inside the Citium. I knew the tactical team was at the house, waiting.”
“You could have told me.”
“I needed them to believe it.”
“Like you needed us to believe the rescue was real.”
Avery’s silence confirmed his theory.
He had suspected that the escape from the Kentaro Maru was staged. Now he knew for sure. He wanted to know why. “They let me go because they wanted me to lead them—to lead you—to Rendition.”
“Yes. It’s the only thing they need for the Looking Glass.” She stepped away from the container. “Look, I took a risk. I didn’t want the group to debate it because I knew it was the only option we had. And we didn’t have time for our little committee to vote. It worked out—better than I thought it would.” She motioned away from Desmond’s container. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Across the aisle, another cargo container lay open, its heavy metal doors revealing cardboard boxes stacked on pallets. The closest box had been torn open. It held hundreds of oblong handheld devices roughly half the size of a cell phone and a bit thicker.
Avery handed him one. “It’s a jet injector.”
She pointed to another box, which held CO2 cartridges. They were small and round, similar to the ones Desmond had used in his pellet gun as a child.
“They’re CO2-powered.”
She pulled another open box closer. It was full of vials. She took a vial and a CO2 cartridge and inserted both into the jet injector.
“This is the cure. I thought if they captured us here in Australia that they might take us to a warehouse like this one.” She waited for him to respond, but Desmond said nothing. “It was the only way, Des. Our only option.”
He took the device from her and stared at it. We’ve done it. He held in his hand the key to saving Peyton, and billions more. But it was her he thought of first. He realized then how worried he’d been about her. He didn’t want to lose her—or the second chance he wanted so badly. Everything had happened so quickly in the last two weeks, he hadn’t had time to process it. It all hit him now. They had found the cure—and they had a fighting chance of stopping the Citium. Erasing his memories had been a big risk, but the clues he’d left himself had worked. In a roundabout way, they had led him here, to this moment—to what he thought was a turning point. Now it was time to finish it.
Avery stepped closer. “I mean it, Des. This was the only way. Do you believe me?”
She needs me to forgive her. There was a deeper relationship between them, and he couldn’t remember it. That was an unsettling feeling.
He looked at her, but he still didn’t speak.
“It was the only way to get you off the ship,” she said. “It was the only way to get us here, to the cure. I gambled. I did what I had to. I did it for you, and for the mission. Please tell me you understand.”
A cough rang out in the silence; a congested, sick sound. Not a nagging, nuisance cough, but a deadly one, like a bell tolling, reminding him that time was running out.
“Yeah, I understand, Avery.”
She didn’t smile. She only glanced away, as if his words of absolution had come up short.
He wasn’t ready to forgive her; not until he trusted her completely. And right now, his only thoughts were for Peyton. He didn’t want to wait another second to give her the cure.
“We’ve got some people who need this,” he said.
He followed the cough to another metal shipping container, unlocked it, and pulled the screeching metal door open. Peyton was lying on the floor, squinting at the bright light. She barely sat up.
He handed Avery the jet injector, walked inside, and gathered Peyton in his arms. She felt like a rag doll as he lifted her and carried her into the light. She was no doubt worn out from the fitful sleep in the back of the plane on the way to Australia, hungry, and exhausted from the sickness that had been slowly overtaking her.
In the glow of sunlight through the skylights, he sat her on the concrete floor of the warehouse and held her head in his hands. Her eyelids were droopy and her hair soaked with sweat, either from the fever or the hot southern Australian summer that was just beginning.
Avery pulled Peyton’s sleeve up and began to press the jet injector to her arm, but Desmond stopped her and took the device. He wanted to administer the cure to Peyton himself. He realized then how much it meant to him, and why. Twenty years ago, they had spent the most important years of his life together. Perhaps of hers too. He had discovered who he was. Before he met her, he had never known the true extent of the wounds from his childhood. He was broken. He had given up on waiting for his wounds to heal. He had left her because he thought that by leaving, he was saving her. He thought he was giving her the life she deserved. He knew now that he had been wrong.
He held the injector at her shoulder and pressed the button.
The pop of air and the pinch snapped Peyton to attention. She looked from Avery to Desmond, then at the jet injector in his hand.
“Hi,” he said.
She smiled.
“Hi.”
Chapter 106