While Phoebe went to tell Marcus that she was going to go home and rest, Winter changed back into plain clothes. She removed the now-empty bottle from the lining of the church maiden gown, left the gown in a pile on the floor, and put the bottle back in her bag.
Phoebe returned, and together, they headed back to Winter’s apartment. They made the journey in silence—no point in Winter explaining the plan only to have to explain it again when they met up with River.
When the wound in Winter’s stomach started throbbing again, she swallowed more painkillers. Phoebe watched and said nothing, her face displaying no hint of emotion.
After disembarking the trolley, Winter led the way up the stairs to her apartment, and Phoebe trailed a few feet behind her. Winter pounded on the front door. “River? It’s me!”
The silence that followed was brief, but every second was excruciating.
“Secret code?” River called.
“Daisy.”
Phoebe gave her a questioning glance. “Name of the dog we had when we were kids,” Winter explained.
The door swung open. “Thank God you’re okay,” River said, pulling her into a hug.
Winter grimaced at the pain that flared in her abdomen. “We should probably sit down,” she said as he pulled back, seeming to sense her discomfort. “I don’t think any of us are in great condition.”
“Right. Come in.” River waved for the two to follow him into the apartment. He led them to the dining room.
Winter glanced around as they all settled into chairs around the table. “Where are Mom and Dad?”
“They, uh, went out looking for you.”
Great. “Did you tell them they were in danger?”
“Trust me, I begged them not to go.” River lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry. I told them what you told me, but I guess it wasn’t good enough.”
He hesitated, and Winter got the feeling there was more he wanted to say. “Did they tell you anything else?” she prodded.
“They said you’ve been acting really weird lately. And that you lied about your job, or something?” River’s blue eyes lifted to meet Winter’s. “I don’t know. They didn’t stick around long after I got back.”
“They’ve been gone all day?” Winter’s hands tightened into fists on the table. What the hell were they doing?
River nodded. “They called about half an hour ago, though, so I think they’re okay.”
“Where did they call from?”
“The hospital. They said if they didn’t find you soon, they’d come home.”
Winter couldn’t deal with their parents right now. And if they came back in the middle of this, it would be over. She rose to her feet. “Then we have to get moving. I’ll explain the plan on the way.”
“Where are we going?” River asked, brow furrowing. He followed her lead and stood up though.
“First to Forrest’s house—”
“Jonathan Forrest?”
Winter nodded. “Then to the factory you work at. If we swapped out some ingredients, could you use the equipment there to produce medicine?”
“Uh, I guess?” River said. “I’d probably have to change some settings—”
“But you know how to do that?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Grab your coat.”
River looked at Phoebe, apparently hoping to get answers from her, but she simply shrugged.
On the way to Forrest’s, Winter briefed River on the existence of white plague and the plague cure, as well as the council’s plan to hide the cure and infect the city.
The lights were on at Forrest’s house, and there was no shortage of guests enjoying the music and food. Winter ignored River and Phoebe’s hesitation and marched up to the open front door.
“Uh, won’t we get thrown out?” Phoebe called.
Winter paused in front of the door to let them catch up. “No. None of these people care. And the host isn’t here.” And if anyone tried to make them leave, she had weapons.
“Never been in this part of town,” River commented as he reached her side. “What are we here for?”
“Forrest is storing the stuff we need to make more plague cure.” Winter led the two inside and through the crowd of dancers, raising her voice so they could hear her. “Some of it should have been moved to the hospital already, but there were a lot of boxes. I’m sure there’s still some left here.” At the very least, it was worth checking a dead man’s house before risking a trip to the hospital where Marcus had posted guards.
Thankfully, Winter’s guess was correct. About half of the supplies she’d seen during her last trip here remained. She instructed the other two on what to grab and began to empty one of the boxes so that they could carry what they needed in it.
“River, is anyone going to be at the factory this late?” Winter asked.
River paused, a bottle in each hand. “Uh, what time is it? Eight?”
“Eight-thirty.”
“The regular workers should be gone, but supervisors are probably still finishing up paperwork. From what I’ve heard, they usually lock the place up around midnight.”
Winter groaned. “I’d like to have a big batch of cure made by morning, ideally, and it’s quite a process. And we’ll need to get out before the morning shift starts showing up.” Six hours would be enough, but they’d have to move fast.
“So, what’s the plan?” River asked.
Winter sighed. “We’ll have to camp out by the factory and wait for the supervisors to leave. It’s going to be a late night.”
The three carried their boxes out of the house without trouble. River had more questions, and Winter answered them as best she could without giving away the worst details of what she’d done. She confirmed what their parents had told him about her quitting the station for a position at the hospital and kept the lie about it being a paperwork job. From there, she managed a vague story about figuring out what was going on behind the scenes after River got sick.
Phoebe listened in silence.
They entered an alleyway next to the factory and settled onto a platform halfway up a fire escape, just high enough to give them a view of the factory’s entrance.
“So, we’re taking the cure to the hospital after we make it?” River asked quietly as they got comfortable. As comfortable as one could get on a metal platform, anyway.
Winter nodded. “But we’re going to be very public about it. If we take it to the doctors, it’ll be easy for the hospital director to step in and say it’s fake. Prevent the public from ever hearing about it?”
“Couldn’t he still say it’s fake, anyway?”
“Not if we can treat some people with it before he gets the chance.” Winter looked out at the nearby street, at the lights of the city glowing in the dark, occasionally blinking out as businesses shut down and people went to bed.
“They’re desperate,” she added, quieter. “They’ll try anything. And this should give us some credibility.” She opened her bag and pulled out the mask for River to see.
River’s eyes went wide. “How’d you get that?”
“Long story.”
His brow furrowed. “Where does the Plague Saint fit into all of this? You were wearing his uniform at the hospital this morning.”
“It’s…complicated,” Winter responded with a grimace. “He did a lot of valuable research, but he was misusing it. When he joined the council to release the white plague he created, he sort of…stepped away from his position, you could say. I saw an opportunity to help people and took his place.” She took a deep breath. “I’m the Plague Saint now.”
Phoebe shifted abruptly and climbed to her feet. “There’s a diner across the street that’s still open. I’m going to go get us some coffees.”
“Oh, uh, sounds great,” River said. “Thank you.”
“Be careful,” Winter added.
Phoebe left without a word.
After a few minutes of quiet, River started up his questioning again. “So, I didn’t actually have red plague, I had this new white plague? Which is something the old Saint made himself?”
Winter nodded, her gaze still resting on a streetlamp at the end of the alley. “I’m sorry it took me so long to figure out how to cure you. It must have been awful.”
“You did your best.” River shrugged. “More than most people would have done. And I think I was unconscious during the worst bits. Or hallucinating.”
“I remember one of the nurses mentioning that.” Winter turned her head toward River. “What did you see?”
“You or Mom or Dad, mostly, but you would all just stand there and stare at me. Sometimes you looked really young.” River frowned. “I think I saw Daisy one time, too. As a puppy. Oh, and lots of spiders on the walls.”
Winter shuddered. “Sounds awful.”
“Well, I’m much better now.” River reached into his coat. “I brought the card deck with me, in case we had down time like this.” He surveyed the small space around them. “I don’t think we have enough light or room for a game, though.”
“Yeah, probably not,” Winter agreed. “I bet we could manage a quick draw, though.”
River slid the cards from their box and shuffled them around.
“Oh. One last thing,” Winter said as she watched him.
“Hm?”
“Just in case…I don’t know, in case something happens, there’s an old jewelry box sitting on the roof outside my bedroom window. It’s full of cash. I just want you to know it’s there.”
“Winter, everything’s going to be okay.” River continued shuffling as he looked up from the cards to meet her eyes. “But thank you.” He fanned out the cards and held them toward her. Winter picked one and kept it facedown. River picked his, glanced at it, and held it up triumphantly.
“Ten of jewels,” he announced.
Before Winter could reveal hers, Phoebe reappeared, holding a tray of coffees. “I just saw a guy leave the factory and lock the door behind him,” she said.
River glanced at Winter. “You wanna go now?”
Winter nodded.
They quickly gathered their belongings and picked up the boxes. Phoebe climbed back down first, followed by River. Winter realized she was still holding her card. Not wanting to delay things any further, she shoved it in her pocket to deal with later and followed them down.
River tried the door’s handle. “Yep, place is locked up for the night. How are we going to get in?”
“Get me something big and heavy,” Winter ordered.
They scoured the alleyway until Phoebe found a broken pipe in a dumpster and handed it to Winter. Winter swung at the door handle as hard as she could. Something cracked, and the door drifted open.
Winter gave River and Phoebe their own copies of the cure recipe. “River, start getting the equipment ready. Get clean containers to put the final product in, too. Phoebe, set timers for the instructions that require waiting, and then do the math on how much we need to make ten gallons.”
Winter, meanwhile, started on the first few steps, which mainly involved pre-measuring and mixing a few liquids and powders. While she worked, something still nagged at her.
“I don’t think the hospital is the way to go,” she finally said.
“What? But that’s where the sick are,” Phoebe replied with a frown.
“I know. I’m just concerned by how many people could intervene. And while the Plague Saint handing over the cure would be enough to get the doctors started, Atherton and Blackburn could step in and stop it.” Winter sighed. “It might not be an issue, but I think we need to do both.”
Phoebe rested a hand on her hip. “Both, meaning…?”
“I have a backup plan. I just need to figure out the most efficient way to split this up.” Winter paced back and forth in front of the various chemicals she’d laid out as part of her prep work. It would take a lot of force to break into the contraption on the river, but that was something that had to be done anyway. If they could replace the plague mix inside with cure, even better.
While she worked through ideas, Phoebe and River started to mix together the cure ingredients. Winter watched closely and helped where she could. But her main focus for most of the night was making paper copies of the cure recipe.
During the longest waiting period, she encouraged them to sleep. She should have gotten some rest, too, but her mind was racing too fast and too hard. She kept pacing. With everything going on, she hadn’t had much time for thinking long term. Now, she wondered what would happen to her when this was all over. What might happen to the city. She was torn between believing what she was doing was right and fearing she was making a terrible mistake.
No. Letting Atherton and Blackburn and the rest of them go through with their plan would be the mistake. This was the only way. Winter could only hope the people who took their places would do better.
Besides, she couldn’t undo what she’d done at the church.
Winter moved on from pacing to digging around the supervisors’ offices. She came across a few things that might come in use for the scattered semblance of a plan forming in her mind. A lighter. Spray paint.
Before long, she was back on the factory floor again, back to pacing.
One of the timers went off. River and Phoebe stirred while Winter checked on the final product.
“You guys should each have some,” she told them as they came over to look at the clear liquid brewing in the vat. “I know you’re feeling fine now, but better safe than sorry.”
“Maybe you should, too,” River said. “You mentioned it can be preventative, right? You never know when you might run into someone who’s sick.”
Winter nodded. “Good idea.”
After setting aside a little for themselves, they were able to fill five large jugs with the cure they’d made. “So, what now?” Phoebe asked as she screwed a cap onto one of them.
“Follow the river north to the contraption the council had built. You can’t miss it,” Winter instructed as she tucked her bottle of cure into her bag. “There’s a hatch with a padlock. I need you guys to find a way to get it open, get the stuff inside out, and put the cure in.” She picked up two of the jugs. “I’ll take these to the hospital, along with the recipe, and meet you guys at the river afterwards.”
River nodded. “I’ll grab some tools they keep around here. I bet there’s something we can use.”
“Great.” Winter’s hand tightened around the handles of the jugs. “Let’s hope this works.”