Forty-Four

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Taylor

While Abby ate in the kitchen, Dad and Taylor sat in the former's room — Taylor at the computer desk chair and Dad on the corner of the bed — watching each other in silence. Diego and Monica hadn't returned yet, and Taylor's head reeled from all the information he'd just received.

Slumping into his chair, Taylor shook his head to clear the brain fog. "Okay, so... this whole time, Benson was conducting experiments, and he wanted to bring Jayson into it without us suspecting?"

Dad nodded. "There's a file on that drive called Project Achilles. It's designed to weaponize the virus while stripping its victim of free agency. That individual would have super strength and speed without a conscience. The only thing he's missing is an effective antidote to negate the cravings for flesh."

Taylor rubbed his face. It seemed a bit late to say "I told you so," about Jayson, but he had, and no one listened until it was too late. "What about Jeannie?"

"She'll be safe," Dad promised, keeping his head down. "I gave Diego a map to the bunker I sent them to; the same place I instructed him to go."

"And you?" Dad hadn't mentioned anything about himself, and what he didn't say scared Taylor more than an army of Soapies. "Are you coming with us?"

Dad looked up and pursed his lips — a strong tell he was about to soften the blow. He'd done it often when Taylor was younger and didn't want him to get upset. "The world needs to know what Benson has been plotting."

"What are you saying?" Taylor asked, afraid to know the answer.

Dad scratched his neck. "Someone has to submit this information to the space station."

So Dad was staying behind.

Taylor chewed the corner of his lip as he pondered the ramifications. If they parted now, Taylor might not see him again. He'd been such a shit, and saying sorry would seem hollow, even if he did mean it. "Is there any way we can wait for you?"

A sad smile tugged at Dad's mouth as he rose and gathered his son into a tight hug. "It's okay, son. It's my fault for not catching Benson sooner. I'll have no regrets if you all make it out of here safely."

"But what about you?" Taylor didn't know how to admit he needed his father as much as his friends. Dad had made mistakes, but hadn't he himself done the same when he refused to listen? They were supposed to have more time to fix things.

"I'll be okay," he said in a cheerful tone Taylor didn't believe for a second. "No matter what, I want you to know I'm proud of you. Diego is a good guy, and there's no one I trust more to look after you. But now, I need you to help Monica and Jeannie. Look after Monica's ward so she doesn't get hurt. Help find a cure. We will get through this, even if we make sacrifices along the way."

Taylor blinked, wishing he was strong enough not to cry. Wasn't that a sign of weakness? He needed to be strong for once in his life so Dad could carry out his crazy suicide mission. But he couldn't. He'd always been susceptible to his emotions, unable to hold everything in like a real man. Like Dad. Or Jayson or Diego.

"I don't want to lose you," he confessed, still squeezing his father as tight as he could. "I can't. Please come with us. We'll figure something out; just don't leave me."

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