Contagion (Toxic City Book Three) by Tim Lebbon

Author:Tim Lebbon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pyr®, An Imprint of Prometheus Books
Published: 2013-09-30T04:00:00+00:00

“How did you find me again?” Lucy-Anne asked.

“How could I not?” The remnant of Andrew stood close to the restaurant window as if avoiding shadows. Sunlight barely touched him. She could see that he was trying to be his old self for her—the cheeky smile, the way he pretended to lean against the wall—but everything was subsumed beneath his ethereal sadness.

“What will happen to you?”

“I've already gone,” Andrew said. “You have to accept that, and understand it. I'm only here as an echo.”

“But you are real. If you weren't, how could you be helping us? How could you have helped this man you've hidden away?”

Andrew shrugged, and for a moment he really was his old self, so much so that Lucy-Anne laughed. “Weird times,” he said.

“Yeah. Tell me about it.”

The others were bustling. Andrew's appearance was a shock, but now they were filled with a new sense of urgency and purpose. Jack's frustration at not being able to help had been palpable, and his insistence that he would do alone what Fleeter said was impossible together had been a sign of his desperation. Now, there was another way.

Lucy-Anne only hoped the man was still where Andrew had left him.

“Come with us?” Lucy-Anne asked.

“I'll be watching you,” he said.

“My guardian angel.”

“I wish.” Andrew lifted a weightless hand and moved it close to her face, but not close enough to touch. She guessed he did that for her; to not feel his presence might be too much. But she could see from his eyes that he also did it for himself.

Andrew could no longer feel, and much about his sister must remain a memory.

“I'm so sorry,” she said. The tears came, quiet but forceful. Andrew watched, helpless, able only to soothe her with hushed words. He whispered of their parents and how proud they would be of Lucy-Anne for carrying on, and being strong. He sang a song they'd made up when they were both young, nonsense lyrics about a frog and a toad walking a long road. It made Lucy-Anne laugh, and cry some more. She felt far too young to suffer from painful nostalgia, but Doomsday had made everyone grow old. That was one of its unspoken effects—it had made everyone involved, and the country as a whole, age.

“Ready,” Sparky said. He stood behind Lucy-Anne and placed his hand on her shoulder, and she closed her eyes and pretended the contact was from Andrew. When she turned around and opened her eyes, Sparky was staring wide-eyed at Andrew, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. “Whoa,” he said.

“Yeah,” Lucy-Anne said. “And yes. Ready. All of us together.”

Sparky leaned in and gave her a wet kiss on the cheek, and as she pushed him away she was surprised at the sound of her own laughter.

They were preparing to leave the restaurant, possessed of a newfound urgency. Even Rhali seemed more lively and alert, and Jack had to shove his guilt over her to the back of his mind. He should be

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