The Vines Shelley Nolden (best way to read books txt) đ
- Author: Shelley Nolden
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Not dignifying the comment with a response, Finn continued, âIf Iâm not back by sundown and havenât texted that I need more time, you call in Kristian.â He had no intention of letting it come to that. âItâs pretty straightforward, even for someone without a medical degree.â
Rollie grunted. âYou need to get that chip off your shoulder.â
Finn glanced at his shoulder. âThereâs no chip; I like my job. Besides, why would you need me when you already had Boy Wonder as your lab assistant?â
âYour mind works differently than Kristianâs, and mine. Maybe youâll see things that weâve been missing.â
If Rollie really thought that, he wouldnât have kept him in the dark, Finn thought, twisting the toe of his boot against the dirt. âLetâs get this done.â
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. âSheâll find you here. We should be using your tunnel.â
âYouâve only got a chance as long as she believes youâre not one of us. With that maneuver outside the morgue, you certainly went a long way in proving that.â He rifled through his bag, and Finn decided not to start a debate about loyalties.
âBesidesââhis dad looked upââI wanted to give you two space. This is the farthest structure from her home.â
âThat pavilion isnât her home.â
Rollie sighed. âYouâre 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 1963âthe year the city shut off power to Riverside.â He found the plastic case containing a syringe filled with the antibiotic-resistant strain of Borrelia burgdorferi.
âYou think I donât know what her âgiftsâ have cost her? Every day I work on this puzzle so she can have her life back. And so, her misery wonât have been in vain.â
He handed Finn the container. âThis is just Bb.â
âYou swear?â
âYes, I swear.â He gazed down at it. âHopefully, with this injection, we will save the human race.â
Finn coughed. âYour bullshit lines wonât work on me anymore.â âAt the least itâll help your mother.â
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 hadnât convinced Lily by then, there would be a new reason for his mother to hang on: she would understand that he couldnât simultaneously lose both the women he loved.
He shoved the case into his backpack.
Now that he understood Coraâs situation, heâd brought her an array of supplies, including a tactical flashlight with extra batteries, mosquito repellent, and vitamins. Heâd wanted to include a radio, but Rollie had made the case that it would trigger culture shock. And increased feelings of isolation. Finn wasnât sure he agreed, but for now he didnât push the issue.
Lily had jammed in a large box of tampons, which made him uncomfortable. Last, heâd added a book. Apparently, the Twilight Saga was a big hit with teenage girls. Despite Coraâs actual age, he couldnât 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. âFind a safe place for these.â
âWhat are they?â Finn asked, inspecting the ring of colored tape below each of their stoppers.
âPlan B,â his father whispered. âThe orange one contains a dozen black-legged ticks, infected with your motherâs strain of Borrelia burgdorferi. And the red one: cotton dipped in an analgesic.â
Finn grimaced. âThereâs no wayââ
Rollie raised his hand. âI understand why you took her side over Kristianâs. But now that youâve seen our lab and how close we are . . .â He steepled his gloved hands. âPlease. If she wonât agree to help us, see if you canât set them loose on her clothes. Or, if she skips her nap, use the gas.â
Finn stood up in protest. âYou canât be serious.â
Rollie pursed his lips, his silence saying it all.
âThis is so irresponsible. If they bite other animals, they could spread this strain across the Northeast.â
âBy then weâll have developed an effective treatment and hopefully a vaccine.â
Exasperated, Finn groaned. No way could he do this to Coraâor the general populationâbut he knew that engaging in a philosophical argument with Rollie now would be pointless. He studied the tiny arachnids. During the tour of his fatherâs lab, he would have noticed a tick colony. âWhereâd you get them?â
His dad motioned for him to talk more softly. âIf I hadnât needed Kristian, I think he would have become an entomologist.â
âFrom where?â Finn repeated, waving the cylinders. âHis own laboratory?â That would explain where the cage of bats had been headed.
Rollieâs gaze darted to the trees. âPut those away.â
Finn tucked them into his backpack. So Kristian does have his own lab. âFunny you never mentioned that heâs been moonlighting.â
âThatâs a good word for it. I donât know how he gets by on so little sleep, but I do know I canât run this project without him. Thereâs too much data for one man to process. He uses his lab near their apartment after joining Hannah and Milo for dinner. Itâs just hobby equipment. Besides the Lyme, he doesnât keep any pathogens there. And no bats, since I know thatâs your next question.â
âWhenâs the last time youâve been in it?â
âI see all of the analyses from his time there. Your brotherâs always needed space
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