Plague Saint

Chapter Twenty-Six: Control

The sun hadn't touched the sky yet, but it was close. Winter walked with Phoebe and River to the western side of Devil's Pass. She directed them to find the river and follow it, while she circled the edge of the city up to the hospital. It was for the best that as few people saw them as possible.

Once she was a block from the hospital, Winter threw on the Saint's uniform. Bag slung over her shoulder with copies of the cure recipe inside, along with the jugs of cure, she marched to the hospital's front doors.

"Is Director Blackburn here?" Winter asked the receptionist.

"He hasn't come in yet," she replied.

"Good. I need you to send any available doctors to his office. Tell them the Plague Saint is waiting." Winter set handed her one of the cure recipes. "And hold onto this. It's important."

Winter took out the can of spray paint she'd taken from the factory and popped the cap off as she walked the halls. She could hand out all of the recipe copies and they might disappear in a few days. But she'd like to see Marcus get rid of this.

A press of her finger unleashed a spray of black paint that dripped down the white walls. Winter spelled out each ingredient, each instruction, exactly as Marcus had written them.

"Plague Saint?" The voice came from Dr. Morrison, who was watching her with shock plastered across his face. "I was on my way to Blackburn's office and heard the announcement. What—what are you doing?"

"I came to this hospital to save people from the plagues. But there's been a cure, and it's not plagues you need saving from, it's people." Winter finished the last letter and took a step back. "Come with me."

Dr. Morrison followed her to where other doctors had gathered around Blackburn's door.

"I have the cure," Winter announced.

Dr. Liang frowned. "For which plague?"

"All of them. Including white." Winter removed the jugs from her bag and set them down with a thud. "Divide this up, start with those who have the worst symptoms. Some of your red plague patients actually have white plague."

She handed out recipes to those standing closest to her. "Here are the instructions to make more. Bit complicated, especially with the timing, but follow the directions and you'll be fine. You can use my lab. There should be ingredients waiting, and there are more at Jonathan Forrest's house—"

"How are we supposed to get into your lab?" Dr. Liang asked.

Winter paused. "What do you mean?"

Another doctor chimed in. "There are city guards around your office and lab. They've only been letting Blackburn go in and out and wouldn't tell us anything when we asked about you."

"I am no longer associated with the hospital or Marcus Blackburn." Winter adjusted her bag and turned around. "I'll clear the path to the lab. Start getting the cure out. Make sure everyone knows it exists and raise hell if they try to take it from you."

She kept going, spraying the recipe on every wall she passed until she turned into the hallway with her office. Two guards, both wearing their helmets, stood outside the door. Winter drew her sword out and tossed her bag aside. Her other hand still held the can of spray paint.

"Your presence is no longer needed," Winter told them.

"Plague Saint, Director Blackburn said you weren't using this office anymore," the guard on the left said.

"Well, I'm back, and I'm granting access to my lab to every doctor in this hospital."

The second guard chimed in. "Blackburn said—"