Zoey’s POV

  Straw crunches under my feet as I waddle into the coop, wearing a pair of needlessly large muck boots I took from the farmhouse—the Agricultural Operations Building, according to the nuns. The denim overalls fight me when I squat, stiff and ancient, like they’ve been rotting here since the 1950s. The long-sleeved T-shirt underneath is equally bad. I’ve got a bandana tied over my wig to keep the hair in place, and with my disposable gloves on, I’m finally ready to search for some macro-organisms to test the so-called virus we were given.

  I’ve decided to prioritize macro-parasites: Nematoda, or if I’m lucky, Nematomorpha. I have worked on these guys before with Hunter, and they were my favorite. If I strike out here, I’ll look for larvae on the trees or in the bushes. I came up with this plan after lunch and decided to start with the coop. I didn't bother with the barn because, despite my mask, the smell of cattle is horrendous. No one told me cows smell like shit in real life. The coop isn't much better either, but I can withstand it for the sake of science.

  The chickens on the perches watch me as I sift through the straw on the wooden floor, carefully turning over the dried bedding and searching through feces for anything that might be alive. The constant squeaking of chicks is giving me a headache. A few hens fly over my head, flapping their wings aggressively. I really hope they don’t shit on me.

  I keep digging, trying not to give up, but all I’m finding are feathers and more poop. No string-like organisms whatsoever. A white duck waddles in front of me, looks down at my moving hand, and then stares back at my face. It looks like it’s judging me. It quacks and walks away.

  "Yeah, thank you," I reply.

  I check the empty nesting boxes, not bothering the yapping, menacing moms currently guarding their eggs. Still nothing. I sigh, hoping Jaiden is searching on his end. I peek at the area underneath the roosting perches, ignoring the fluttering wings, when my ears pick up a series of smooching sounds.

  Curiosity gets the better of me. I follow the noise to the outside of the coop. Jaiden is standing there, holding a chill, white duck in both hands, positioning it right in front of his face.

  "Who’s a good girl?" He talks in a weird, deep voice. "Yeah, you’re a good girl."

  His mouth stretches to kiss the duck’s beak with a loud, wet sound.

  I take a step closer. The duck has its eyes closed, just like Jaiden. There is some kind of freaky chemistry happening here.

  He pulls away and they both open their eyes at the same time; their gazes lock in a weirdly cinematic way. "You’re the most gorgeous, sexiest white girl to ever exist," Jaiden whispers. "Yeah, baby, I love me some white girls with curves."

  He leans in for another smooch but stops midway. His head turns slowly in my direction. We hold eye contact for a few minutes. He puts the duck down slowly, clears his throat, and dusts off his clothes even though they’re fine. He shoves his hands into his overall pockets and steps toward me, his face shifting into complete seriousness.

  "Did you find what you were looking for?" he asks.

  "We’re not going to pretend nothing happened."

  He rubs the back of his neck. "Look, what happens in the coop stays in the coop, okay?" His voice drops back to its normal register.

  Definitely no, but what can I say?

  "Anyway, did you do what I asked?"

  He pauses, his brain visibly buffering. "Which was...?"

  "Searching for roundworms which look like threads. Or flatworms that look like ribbons." My voice is slipping, the volume climbing with every syllable.

  He pauses. "How does a worm look like a ribbon?"

  "Jaiden, come on!" I snap. "I literally showed you pictures! Like, ten of them!"

  The look on his face confirms my doubts: he didn’t pay attention and didn’t even try.

  I exhale a long, shaky breath. "You were wasting your time harassing a duck instead of helping me figure out if we actually have a fucking virus or if we’re just being played for fools. Jesus!"

  I rip off my rubber gloves and storm outside, scanning for a trash bin, and find one across the farm. Jaiden runs after me as I march past the tall hay fields toward the barn.

  "I’m sorry! Don’t get angry, okay?" he says, doubling his pace to keep up.

  Don’t get angry? I’m losing my mind.

  He stutters for a second, then tries, "How about we take a break? We can go pick some grapes and make fresh juice before we keep searching. How does that sound?"

  "We don’t have time for breaks, and grape juice tastes like... grapes?" My feet slow down until they stop. "Did you just say grapes?"

  Jaiden’s face lights up. "Yeah, we grow them here. We can—"

  "Grapes? Like, actual grapevine Vitis? Real trunks and cordons and stuff?" I approach him until I'm standing inches from his face.

  He gulps. "Ugh... yeah? I guess?"

  "Oh my god!" But then, a bitter realization hits me. "Wait. Have you put pesticides on them recently?"

  "No, I just—"

  "That means we can find grapevine caterpillars! Like Pandorus sphinx or the Grapevine Hawk-moth!" I take a breath to calm my racing heart. Grapevines are notorious for hosting relatively massive larvae, so big they can strip a plant bare overnight. This is the jackpot.

  Jaiden steps back, a frown on his face. "What?"

  "Where are the vines?"

  He points across the farm. I fling my gloves, probably hit him in the chest, and take off. I sprint across the field, shoving through the rebellious hay plants, leaping over tomato cages, and parkouring around potatoes and carrots and God-knows-what sprouts. And I finally reach it—my ecosystem heaven.

  Three long rows of beautifully gnarled grapevine trunks. The cordons and leaves are so lush they dangle all the way to the ground, heavy with clusters of ripe, deep-blue grapes that stretch as far as I can see. I can even spot insects hovering in the distance.

  "This is it," I pant, wiping sweat from my forehead.

  Jaiden catches up to me. Before he can even ask what the hell is going on, I give him orders.

  "Look. We’re searching for any large caterpillar that looks like a snake and has eye spots. Not real eyes, but it looks like it can see through them."

  Jaiden pauses for a second, his face twisting into a question mark. "What?"

  "There are different morphs—green, brown, sometimes they have two eye spots, sometimes more. Point is, they’re big and hard to miss. Got it?"

  "What the fu—"

  "They’re strong and they might try to nip at you, so get a good grip or you’ll regret it." I’m already moving toward the vines. "Catch me one at least."

  "Zoey, wait."

  "It's not that hard to miss."

  "I don’t wanna do this."

  I halt and turn around. "Jaiden, come on. Just catch a creature. Any relatively large organism will work for the test tonight."

  Jaiden looks like he’s on the verge of collapse. "But, I…"

  "You’re what? The clock’s ticking. Sister Fate could walk in any minute, and the virus in my closet still needs some testing before we use it."

  "I’m afraid of bugs," he says, his voice cracking.

  "Bugs? What bugs? We’re looking for caterpillars. Larvae. Slow, cylindrical tubes of protein."

  "I don’t wanna do this." He shakes his head. "This shit scares me."

  I exhale, trying to keep my brain from exploding. No one ever understands that viruses need living hosts, and time is something we don’t have. And now Jaiden is holding me back because of a phobia? I take a deep breath, trying to shove my anger into a small box in the back of my mind.

  "Jaiden, what bugs are scaring you, specifically?" I ask, my voice dropping to a forced calm as I approach him.

  "Everything, man," he says, "I hate ‘em all."

  "Jaiden, if you’re classifying anything small as a bug, then you’re mistaking an entire ecosystem for your sleep paralysis demon." He flinches, and I realize kicking some sense into him isn't working. I soften my tone a little bit. "Fine. Just tell me what exactly is scaring you, and I'll help you with it."

  "The worms you’ve showed me." His lips quiver. "I’ve seen them in real life. They were... bad."

  "Do you mean nematodes? Or roundworms?"

  He just nods, his eyes reflecting a deep-seated pain. I know what those things look like in the wild; they’re nothing like the neat diagrams in textbooks.

  "You’ve dealt with a parasitic infection before?" I assume, getting straight to the point.

  "A worm got into my foot," he whispers, his body shrinking. "It got so big. I could see it walking under my skin."

  It takes a second to clock it; what he's casually referring to as a worm in his foot is, in fact, Cutaneous larva migrans. Probably a hookworm or some other nasty nematode. I can relate to his fear; based on my personal experience, helminths are responsible for at least 80% of my trust issues. I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a breath, bracing myself for the mental image of a poorly treated infection.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  "At first, I thought it was just a bug bite," he says, his jaw tight and his hands clenched into shaking fists. "Armani told me it’d go away if I ignored it."

  Of course. He listened to his idiot friend and now he’s got Post-Traumatic Nematode Disorder.

  "But it got so big. And it hurt so much." He looks away, his tense body shakes.

  My skin crawls imagining it. It’s the first time I’ve seen Jaiden like this. He must have been young when he encountered that stubborn parasite; his body is reacting to the memory like it’s happening all over again.

  "Jaiden, I…"

  I trail off. What am I supposed to say? 'Hey, forget your trauma and go grab that giant worm-like thing so I can do science?' Or, 'It’s okay,' while he’s having painful flashbacks? I feel crippled. Anything I say feels like it’ll make things worse. I clear my throat, but no proper words are coming out.

  "I came here to chase chickens, play with ducks, and talk to Sister Fate about animal behavior," he says, finally looking at me. "I’m sorry I can’t be helpful to you."

  "Jaiden, look." I step even closer, looking directly into his eyes. "I’ve worked with pathogens for a long time. You should never ignore a sign of infection. Ever."

  He sighs. "I know, but Armani said—"

  "Fuck Armani." My voice comes out sharper than I intended. "You don't ignore an infection, no matter how insignificant it seems. Your body is a high-stakes miracle of evolutionary engineering, not a petri dish for parasites."

  A tiny, hopeful smile flickers on his face. "Yeah, I know."

  I know he knows nothing about what I just said, but I go on, "You went to a hospital to take the worm out?"

  "You know Matilda, right?" His face lightens up again. "Bryan called her, and she showed up with a medical kit and took it out. It was way easier than I expected.”

  "She’s my sister-in-law," I say, feeling some sense of relief. "Believe it or not, that kind of thing happens in our lab more than you think. She’s the only reason half of us are still alive."

  The sun ducks behind a cloud, and a sudden, cool wind whistles through the vines. The shifting light reminds me of the ticking clock. I'm losing the day. I take a few steps back.

  "Fine. I’ll go hunt down the caterpillars. You go... ugh, go play with your duck girlfriend or something."

  I turn around and sprint toward the grapevines before he can slow me down again.

  The sun glares over my head once more as I squat to scan the gnarled trunks and the undersides of the leaves. For a place I initially thought was pesticide-free, this field looks clean. The leaves are lush, vibrant green, and soft to the touch. The fruit is intact and plump. Not a single shriveled grape on the ground or a decaying leaf.

  I dig my fingers into the damp topsoil, sniff them, but I don’t catch the sharp tang of chemicals. Just a deep, earthy aroma. It’s clear that the vines were watered and carefully tended to, which suggests that they were cleared of pests.

  I stand up, a heavy feeling settling in my chest as I look down the three long rows. A voice in my head tells me to give up on the dream of grapevine caterpillars and settle for anything else. But even the sturdy ones tend to give up on life fast. I reach the edge of the farm fence and stare at the wire mesh. My search came to nothing. Every time I think I see a butterfly or a beetle, it turns out to be a dried leaf caught in the wind. I think I’m hallucinating at this point.

  A rustle behind me makes me wheel around. Jaiden is in the next row over, peering into the foliage. He catches my eye.

  "These guys don't bite, right?" he asks.

  "I thought you went back to kiss the ducks." I watch him bending over, meticulously ruffling through the leaves and clusters of fruit. I smile under the mask. It looks like someone decided to face their fears today.

  "They can wait," he says, popping his head over the grapevine cordons. "Found anything?"

  "Nothing. It looks too clean. I think they might have used pesticides after all," I sigh. "We’re probably wasting our time looking for caterpillars here."

  "Wait." He ducks under the cordons and steps into my row, looking suspiciously calm. "Don’t these things eat the grapes?"

  I pause, thinking through their biology. "I mean, maybe as a snack, but they mostly go for the leaves. Or the roots, depending on the species."

  "If they eat the leaves," he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, "wouldn't we just look for a vine with eaten leaves?"

  I blink. "I mean... yeah. Obviously."

  His smile widens. "I found one."

  I gasp. "Really?"

  He ducks back under the cordon. "Follow me."

  I scramble after him, my boots thudding against the dirt as the wind picks up, whistling through the plants. He leads me to a specific vine where the ground is littered with some half-eaten leaves, hard to spot since they are caught in the breeze. I lower down and inspect the debris. They don’t look like wind-tears, but rather a crime scene. However, there are no macro-organism in sight.

  "There has to be at least one nearby," I mutter, scanning the stems.

  Jaiden squats beside me, flipping over a fallen leaf with a careful, shaky finger. "Maybe they’re hiding underneath?"

  "No, like I said, these guys are huge, impossible to miss."

  He turns to look at me, the sun catching the gold in his lashes. "You said they look like green or brown snakes with eyes, right?"

  I nod, even though my memory of the exact anatomy is a bit fuzzy right now. "Yeah. But they’re chubbier than snakes. More like slow, thick noodles."

  He breaks eye contact and hums, repeating the words under his breath. "Chubby, slow, thick noodles." His gaze meets mine again. "Did you bring your phone?"

  "I left it in the changing room. But when you see one, you won’t miss it." Somehow, I can’t stop my lips from smiling. My soft spot for caterpillars gives me away every time.

  "They look bizarre," I add, "Like nothing you’ve ever seen before."

  He looks back at me with a tiny smile and speaks softly. "Bizarre in a good way, or a bad way?"

  I scratch the back of my head, thinking of the fake eyes on their bodies and their weirdly rhythmic movement. "Given your history with nematodes? Probably a very bad way." My own laughter catches my off guard.

  "Damn," he chuckles. "You really love these things, don’t you? These bugs."

  "Caterpillars," I correct him instantly. My tone comes out a bit sharper than I meant it to.

  His smile vanishes instantly.

  "Right," he whispers. "Caterpillars."

  A thick cloud of perfume hits the air. It smells like an uninvited asshole.

  "Isn’t it a bit dirty in here to be getting romantic?"

  I glance up at the intruder. My guess was correct, who else could it be? Armani.

  Jaiden turns to him. "Yo, what are you—hold on. Don’t move." He nudges me, his eyes wide.

  I look at Armani, who’s strolling toward us with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. My heart skips a beat. There’s something neon green on his white T-shirt. Clinging to the fabric just below his chest is a long, chubby, snake-like organism that has the signature fake eyes on its delicate, stretched skin. I hold my breath, standing up slowly. It’s the Grapevine Hawk caterpillar I’ve been hunting for. I have no idea how the hell it landed on him of all people, but this creature is far more fragile than it looks.

  "Don’t move," I order as I take a quiet step closer to him.

  "Stay where you are," Jaiden says.

  "Why are you looking at me like that? Do I look this good today?" Armani stops walking, his hand ruffles his hair.

  "I said don’t fucking move!" I repeat.

  The caterpillar wiggles, its body rippling in a panic as the idiot can’t keep his body static for a second.

  "What’s wrong with you?" Armani asks with a concerned frown.

  "You’re fine," Jaiden says, stepping closer to him. "Just stay still."

  The caterpillar contracts again, its tiny prolegs losing their grip on the cotton. Armani looks down, and for a split second, he’s face-to-face with it.

  "No! Don’t—"

  Armani shrieks, slaps his chest, and stomps his foot down over the poor thing with a crunch.

  "What the fuck was that?!" he pants, clutching his heart.

  I finish my sentence, staring at the green smear on the dirt. The caterpillar’s hemolymph seeping into the soil. "...don’t kill it."

  The two of them start bickering immediately. Jaiden is yelling about how Armani ruined our only chance at testing the virus, and the blond idiot is arguing that he was staring death in the face. His dramatic retelling of how his life almost ended by an innocent larva makes me sigh. I shouldn’t have relied on anyone. It’s all my fault.

  "Fucking pathetic. Grow a pair," I mutter, shoving past Armani.

  "Why is she always in a bitchy mood?" I hear him grumble behind me.

  Lucky for him, I’m too mentally drained to turn around and show him my real bitchy mood.

  I head toward the farmhouse—a single-story building that sits at the edge of the farm like a gatekeeper. I step onto the porch, kick off the dirty muck boots, and line them up with the others, but then a familiar sense of dread settles in my chest. I have an hour before the game starts, and my paper is still empty.

  I got Armani as my target, and I know absolutely nothing about him other than his choice of pneumonia-inducing colognes. I hate losing, especially when the game is this stupid. I turn back to look over the farm; the sun is sinking between the mountains, casting long shadows over the greenhouse and the crops. I can’t see the two idiots anymore; maybe they went back to touching ducks.

  I lower my mask to take in some fresh air as the cool wind blow into my face. The nature here is breathtaking. I’m sure I will find all kinds of pathogens if I go on a solo expedition inside this place.

  Thinking about expeditions, I remember hearing from someone that the nuns were planning one. I must have misheard it; there’s no way those elderly Sisters have the physical capacity to scale cliffs or crawl through caves. The stairs are the final boss for them, that’s probably why there are elevators everywhere.

  I enter through the mudroom and move toward the hall which counts as the one and only office of the building. The air shifts to a heavy mix of potting soil and dry animal feed. The floorboards groan under my feet as I walk. A nun looks up from a laptop at a long wooden table off to the side. She gives me a small, pleasant smile. She’s young, way younger than the others, and has a pair of warm blue eyes and golden hair slipping from under her veil. She looks familiar. Maybe I saw her around when I first arrived with Jaiden.

  "Where are your friends?" she asks, her voice melodic.

  I exhale, sidestepping a few baskets of freshly picked onions as I head toward the changing room. "I don’t have friends."

  "Oh." Concern clouds her face. "Did something happen?"

  I stop at the storage room doors that are labeled with some nice precision: Chemical Storage, Supply Room, Produce Storage. I feel like an idiot. How did I miss these when I first got here? I was so obsessed with finding wild parasites that I didn’t even think to check for anything alive in the storage.

  "Is everything okay?" the nun asks again.

  I turn back to her. "Yeah. Everything’s fine."

  She gives me another reassuring look. I realize that even if I had seen these rooms earlier, this woman probably wouldn't have let me within ten feet of the supplies. I should have spent less time explaining basic biology to Jaiden and more time scouting the farmhouse. I need to come back here when she’s not around.

  "Um... can I ask you something?"

  The nun nods enthusiastically, resting her chin on her hand. I clear my throat, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

  "I heard from some girl that the nuns go on... expeditions?"

  The nun bursts into a laugh.

  "Yeah, I know. It sounds stupid. I’m literally cringing right now," I add, swallowing my embarrassment. "I’m sure I’ve heard it wrong."

  She looks at me, her smile lingering. "Are you new here?"

  "Yeah. Just got here a few days ago."

  "I see," she says, "Well, you didn’t hear it wrong. It’s just... how do you kids say it? An inside joke, I guess.”

  "Good to know. I thought grandmas here were fighting dragon lords in caves or something."

  She laughs again. "No. We just leave the campus together to attend a religious assembly at the Motherhouse in the hillside village."

  I know the clock is ticking and I need to find something to write for the game, but my curiosity is winning. "What’s the joke, then?"

  "Maybe it’s because we always come back so exhausted, especially the older sisters. We spend the whole time agreeing on new rules and making plans for the school, and stuff like that.”

  I still don’t get the joke, but I give her a nod.

  "I thought caves were involved," I mumble as I approach my locker.

  "There are a lot of caves around here," she says thoughtfully.

  Well, the whole expedition thing makes sense now. Still not funny.

  "Okay. Thanks, Sister Fate." I give her a quick glance before grabbing my clothes and heading toward the changing room.

  "I’m not Sister Fate."

  I freeze and turn back. She flashes me another tiny smile before snapping the laptop shut, and begins to glide toward the exit.

  "I thought Sister Fate was the only one responsible for the school farm," I say, watching her reach for the door.

  "I know," she whispers. She steps outside and closes the door with a soft click.

  I stare through the foggy glass window as she walk away. She looks left and right with every single step she takes until she fades from my sight.

  let's stay safe and not alarm the FBI. Which pushes me back to waiting my expert friends and read research papers and books.