The Vines by Shelley Nolden (ebook and pdf reader .TXT) 📕

to Cora,” Rollie said, drumming his fingers against the Teflon covering his thigh. “Spend enough time around her and you’ll lose that cockiness.”

Not dignifying the comment with a response, Finn continued, “If I’m not back by sundown and haven’t texted that I need more time, you call in Kristian.” He had no intention of letting it come to that. “It’s pretty straightforward, even for someone without a medical degree.”

Rollie grunted. “You need to get that chip off your shoulder.”

Finn glanced at his shoulder. “There’s no chip; I like my job. Besides, why would you need me when you already had Boy Wonder as your lab assistant?”

“Your mind works differently than Kristian’s, and mine. Maybe you’ll see things that we’ve been missing.”

If Rollie really thought that, he wouldn’t have kept him in the dark, Finn thought, twisting the toe of his boot against the dirt. “Let’s get this done.”

Careful not to puncture their suits, they covered the boat with loose branches and made their way to the collapsed lighthouse.

Rollie crawled into the cave-like shelter.

Now hidden from the river by the mulberry trees, Finn took out his flashlight. “She’ll find you here. We should be using your tunnel.”

“You’ve only got a chance as long as she believes you’re not one of us. With that maneuver outside the morgue, you certainly went a long way in proving that.” He rifled through his bag, and Finn decided not to start a debate about loyalties.

“Besides”—his dad looked up—“I wanted to give you two space. This is the farthest structure from her home.”

“That pavilion isn’t her home.”

Rollie sighed. “You’re right. It was a tenement on West Ninth Street that was razed in 1925, five years before her mother died in an almshouse in Queens. On that same block Maurice Sendak wrote and illustrated Where the Wild Things Are, which was published in 1963—the year the city shut off power to Riverside.” He found the plastic case containing a syringe filled with the antibiotic-resistant strain of Borrelia burgdorferi.

“You think I don’t know what her ‘gifts’ have cost her? Every day I work on this puzzle so she can have her life back. And so, her misery won’t have been in vain.”

He handed Finn the container. “This is just Bb.”

“You swear?”

“Yes, I swear.” He gazed down at it. “Hopefully, with this injection, we will save the human race.”

Finn coughed. “Your bullshit lines won’t work on me anymore.” “At the least it’ll help your mother.”

Finn shut his eyes. Two weeks ago, Sylvia had begged him to assist her in ending her life, since neither Rollie nor Kristian would. To give her a reason to hang on, he told her that he was confident Lily would be ready to commit by next summer. He planned to propose on the Fourth of July, he confided, and the conversation shifted to wedding rings.

If he hadn’t convinced Lily by then, there would be a new reason for his mother to hang on: she would understand that he couldn’t simultaneously lose both the women he loved.

He shoved the case into his backpack.

Now that he understood Cora’s situation, he’d brought her an array of supplies, including a tactical flashlight with extra batteries, mosquito repellent, and vitamins. He’d wanted to include a radio, but Rollie had made the case that it would trigger culture shock. And increased feelings of isolation. Finn wasn’t sure he agreed, but for now he didn’t push the issue.

Lily had jammed in a large box of tampons, which made him uncomfortable. Last, he’d added a book. Apparently, the Twilight Saga was a big hit with teenage girls. Despite Cora’s actual age, he couldn’t stop thinking of her as young.

Eyeing the forest, Rollie beckoned for Finn to crouch in front of him.

With the aid of his penlight, he slipped Finn two clear cylinders. “Find a safe place for these.”

“What are they?” Finn asked, inspecting the ring of colored tape below each of their stoppers.

“Plan B,” his father whispered. “The orange one contains a dozen black-legged ticks, infected with your mother’s strain of Borrelia burgdorferi. And the red one: cotton dipped in an analgesic.”

Finn grimaced. “There’s no way—”

Rollie raised his hand. “I understand why you took her side over Kristian’s. But now that you’ve seen our lab and how close we are . . .” He steepled his gloved hands. “Please. If she won’t agree to help us, see if you can’t set them loose on her clothes. Or, if she skips her nap, use the gas.”

Finn stood up in protest. “You can’t be serious.”

Rollie pursed his lips, his silence saying it all.

“This is so irresponsible. If they bite other animals, they could spread this strain across the Northeast.”

“By then we’ll have developed an effective treatment and hopefully a vaccine.”

Exasperated, Finn groaned. No way could he do this to Cora—or the general population—but he knew that engaging in a philosophical argument with Rollie now would be pointless. He studied the tiny arachnids. During the tour of his father’s lab, he would have noticed a tick colony. “Where’d you get them?”

His dad motioned for him to talk more softly. “If I hadn’t needed Kristian, I think he would have become an entomologist.”

“From where?” Finn repeated, waving the cylinders. “His own laboratory?” That would explain where the cage of bats had been headed.

Rollie’s gaze darted to the trees. “Put those away.”

Finn tucked them into his backpack. So Kristian does have his own lab. “Funny you never mentioned that he’s been moonlighting.”

“That’s a good word for it. I don’t know how he gets by on so little sleep, but I do know I can’t run this project without him. There’s too much data for one man to process. He uses his lab near their apartment after joining Hannah and Milo for dinner. It’s just hobby equipment. Besides the Lyme, he doesn’t keep any pathogens there. And no bats, since I know that’s your next question.”

“When’s the last time you’ve been in it?”

“I see all of the analyses from his time there. Your brother’s always needed space