Free Inhuman by Kat Falls Page A

pictures like that in your science classes.”
    “No, never.” I slid the photos back into the folder, despite feeling a pressing need to flip through the rest of the pile. Actually, what I really wanted was to swipe a few and smuggle them into the West to show Anna. I needed someone to shriek with.
    “I’m Vincent Solis,” he said. “And you are Delaney. It’s good to finally meet you, even if the circumstances aren’t the best.” He saw my surprise and added, “Everson says you’re looking for Mack.”
    Yes, I was, but the mutated body parts had hijacked my thoughts. “Can you cure them?” I pointed to the file with the photos.
    “No.” Sighing, he settled into the chair behind the desk. “I can’t even develop an effective vaccine until I have samples of all the different strains. So far the most I’ve come up with is an inhibitor that slows the rate of the mutation. It’s not much, but they’re clamoring for it over there.” He waved airily toward what I guessed was the East. “Every month, your father takes a crate of it to a group of infected people living in an old quarantine compound. They tell him about any changes they’ve noticed or if they’re experiencing side effects. It’s not an ideal way to conduct research, but until the law changes, I don’t dare go myself.”
    “Why not?” It was okay for my father to risk infection and arrest, but not him?
    “Titan pays for all of this” — he swept a shaky hand at the room and the corridor beyond — “in the hopes that I’ll find a way to immunize the line guards. They don’t care about those who are already infected. The CEO, Ilsa Prejean, has made it quite clear that if I ever cross the river to collect data, she’ll cut my funding. You see, the corporation that gets paid to enforce the quarantine can’t afford to employ a quarantine breaker. That’s why I’m so grateful to your father. I couldn’t have gotten this far without him.”
    “Do you know where he is now?”
    “Mack cut through camp last night. Stopped by just long enough to tell me that biohaz agents were right behind him. They weren’t. Not that I saw anyway.” Dr. Solis began patting down his lab coat until he found a blue inhaler in a pocket.
    “Where did he go?”
    Dr. Solis shook the inhaler, frowned, and tossed it aside. “To Moline, the quarantine compound I mentioned. Mack has friends there.”
    My mouth went dry. He’d gone back into the Feral Zone where mutants with claws and horns went around mauling people? Inhibitor or not, that sounded suicidal. “What if one of them bites him?”
    “I don’t believe any have progressed to stage three of the disease.”
    “What?”
    “I’m sorry. You’re worried about your father and I’m talking like a virologist.”
    “No, it’s okay. I want to know.”
    With a nod, Dr. Solis leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the desk. “There are three stages to Ferae. The first presents with a high fever within one to ten hours after infection. Once the virus is established, the fever ends and the patient regains his faculties. After that, the virus begins a slow takeover of the body and the patient starts to manifest physical signs of infection.” He gestured toward the file of photographs. “Anatomical deformities. Stage two can last anywhere from weeks to years. It all depends on the patient’s health, genetics, access to antiviral medication…. Many factors.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “The third and final stage of Ferae is insanity. The virus invades the brain, at which point the patient becomes animalistic and highly aggressive.”
    “Oh.” And I’d thought his photos were gruesome. What was playing in my mind now, however, combined those images with sounds and actions to terrifying effect.
    “Incubation, mutation, psychosis — those are the stages.” Dr. Solis rose and moved unsteadily toward the bookcase. “We used to compare Ferae to rabies. Now we know the better model is syphilis,