Page 30 of Captured Immune

“Correct, and word on the street is that the Royals have found a way to control when those explosions happen. They’ve been kidnapping Tickers and using them to attack Ordinary government officials. Did you hear about that bombing in Lisbon six months ago? Authorities never found any traces of explosives. Can you guess why?”

“So,” I say, dreading my next words, “the Royals are using unwilling suicide bombers?”

“Exactly.” Victor slides a manila folder down the table to each person.

In mine is a blurry picture of an Asian woman standing outside a grocery store. The photo is paperclipped to a single sheet of paper with the nameKim Nguyenon it. Under that are the wordssomewhere in Nevada. There’s no home address, no other names, not even a clue as to where or when the picture was taken.What the fuck?

When I received Arella’s manila folder, it was loaded with hours’ worth of reading material. I wouldn’t be so pissed about this folder if the other agents didn’t clearly have multiple photos to work with, paperclipped to stacks and stacks of information.

Victor continues, “Ever since word got out that the Royals are kidnapping Tickers, the Tickers have gone into hiding. Unfortunately, that makes it harder for us to track them down and protect them. Each of you has been assigned a different Ticker. Your job is to find them before the Royals do and bring them here for safety.”

“What if they don’t want to come?” I ask.

“Then you force them.”

My face twists into hard lines. “So you want us to kidnap them?”

Victor shoots me a lethal glare. “Would you rather the Royals do so first? Better us than them, right?”

I mean, he has a point, but I still don’t like the idea of taking someone by force. It’s always bothered me that ZIRDA is willing to end ten lives to save ten thousand. When I was a kid, I thought I’d understand it when I grew up. Here I am at twenty-six, and I still don’t understand it.

For the next two hours, the four of us brainstorm tactics we can use to find these Tickers and bring them to base. I’m not sure how Victor thinks I can find someone when all I’ve got is a blurry photo and a common name for a Vietnamese woman. The other agents have things like places of employment and names of relatives. I’m pretty sure Victor assigned the hardest Ticker to me with hopes that I’ll fail.

Wait...What if that’s why he assigned Arella’s mission to me? What if he knew that finding an explanation to her immunity was a wild goose chase from the start? If so, what’s his game? Why would he want me to get close to Arella if discovering the source of her immunity is impossible?

The meeting finally ends around seven in the morning. Six hours. Six whole fucking hours of pretending to be interested in a mission I have no intention of even starting. By tonight, I’ll be on a beach, sipping out of pineapples with my girl.

After tossing the manila folder into the trash, I fold up the photo of Kim Nguyen with her single sheet of useless information and stick it into my back pocket. Then I rush out of the meeting room without saying a word to anyone.

Somehow, I need to find a way back home. First things first though; I gotta find a bathroom. We weren’t given a single break throughout that entire meeting, and I consumed four cups of zoffee.

I find a bathroom down the hall and stumble into it. My head spins as I unzip my semi-dry jeans. When I finish peeing, I’m woozy as hell. I have to slap my palm against a wall just to steady myself on my way to the sinks. Nausea rises up my stomach as I wash my hands. I’m about to dry them off when vomit races up my throat.

I half run, half stagger past the urinals and back into the first stall. My knees hit the floor just as I throw myself over the toilet bowl and cough. Nothing comes out. I cough again, gagging as my body convulses like it wants to puke, but it doesn’t. I wishsomethingwould come up, because at least then, I’d feel a little better.

For who knows how long, I gag into the toilet bowl, trying to cough up my intestines. After a while, my chest hurts from heaving and my throat’s dry as fuck.I need water, stat!The cafeteria is two floors down. I could get water from there if my body would stop shaking.

I feel like I’ve been on a plane for an hour while the pilot does flips in the air.What the hell is going on?Was it something I ate? I haven’t eaten much lately because of my lack of appetite. For dinner, I had a granola bar. Beyond that, all I’ve had is zoffee. Was there something in that? The other agents and Victor had zoffee from the same brew I did. Are any of them sick? Whatever this is, it’s almost as bad as—I gasp.The glimmer!It’s Arella. Something’s wrong.

I push myself off the floor and stumble out of the bathroom like I would stumble out of a bar at three in the morning. When I reach the elevators, I stab theupbutton almost fifteen times, even though it lit up the first time I pressed it. Ading!sounds, then the doors slide open.

In my haste to rush into the machine, I run into Katie on her way out. Her face smacks right into my chest.

“Ow!” She rubs her forehead with her hand not hugging her iPad.

“Sorry.” I grab her shoulders to steady her—or am I steadying myself? Either way, neither of us falls.

She offers me a warm smile as she steps back into the elevator with me. “You’re just the person I came to find.”

“What for?”

In her sweet little voice, she says, “I’m here to take you to the second floor. Victor needs you.”

Fuck no.“Whatever it is, tell him he’s gonna have to wait. I’ve gotta go.” I’m putting my foot down this time. He didn’t give me a choice earlier, and I didn’t fight him on it. I’ll fight him now because this time, Arella’s in trouble.

“Where do you gotta go in such a rush?”

“Home. Something came up.” I’m about to press the 6 button when Katie grabs my arm.

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