I called Harper and she was more than happy to welcome me back to the team. Before we started working, she checked me for any butterflies before we started getting to work. Skye gave me a curt nod as I started going over the research papers she’d written. By the time evening fell my brain was stuffed with equations and medicine names.

“So did you see anything I might’ve missed?” Harper asked.

“A lot.”

So, I told her how her approach wasn’t very well, how the consistent use of antibiotics spread the disease more than control it, how soap somehow makes these butterflies worse and how the vaccine had a few flaws in the formula that made it defective.

“If you went on like this, you’d only find a cure in 20 years.”

I couldn’t read Harper’s face; she still has a smile plastered on it.

“That’s why I have you on board,” she said with a grin.

…

Harper and I worked on the cure, day in and day out. Barely taking any rests. The only time I got to see my house was during the weekend and rest days. Everyday, immediately after school I’d be in Harper’s makeshift lab working on the cure.

Skye helped us out by making coffee and tea which both Harper and I advised against, but she insisted and we couldn’t really refuse since our fuel was literally store brought sandwiches and a dream.

On one of the days, after Harper had bought the chemicals we needed to develop a cure, we had needed from the store she called both Skye and I into the ‘meeting room’ (it was just the living room).

Harper sat on the armchair while Skye and I sat opposite each other on the couches. Harper went through her phone until she found what she was looking for, she zoomed in and placed it on the table.

“On my way back from the store, I saw someone start puking on the sidewalk,” Harper said. “Decided to help him out and guess what I saw in the puke?”

Skye and I peered over the phone and within what looked like liquidised meat and ice cream we saw the heart shaped wings.

“I don’t know how it happened,” Harper said. “But the disease isn’t limited to only our little group but the entire city.”

Harper’s face was stoic but that was just a mask. I could see the panic in her eyes. Skye looked as if she was about to cry.

“I was afraid of that,” I said. “Besides her parents we probably don’t have a good estimate of just how many people are infected by this little disease and since the only person people are falling in love with is Skye, she’s the only way we can test it and…”

“Taking her out is risky,” Harper said. She buried her face in her palms. “What the hell are we supposed to do?”

“It’s hopeless,” Skye cried. “There’s nothing we can do.”

And it did seem hopeless. After all the only theoretical way to spread the cure was through a vaccine or a liquid solution and nobody would take a cure for a disease they didn’t know… unless…

“Air dispersal,” I said, slamming a fist into my palm.

“What?” Skye and Harper said, perking up.

“Air dispersal,” I said. “We spread the cure in the atmosphere and…”

Harper stood up. “Wait, wait. First of all, how?”

“The city’s tower,” I said. “It has an air dispersal module.”

“That’s…” Harper said. “How and why…?”

“Our city has a history it’d rather forget,” I said.

“My second question was supposed to be how you knew that but I don’t think I want to know,” Harper said. To answer her question, I found out about the tower browsing some conspiracy blogs. One night in my freshmen year of college,  some friends and I drove out to test it with some beer. And sure enough that night there was lager in the city’s atmosphere. It was all the news anchors could talk about. “So, my other question is that isn’t spreading unknown substances in the air a war crime or something?”

“We’re minors,” I said. “The laws don’t apply to us.”

Harper wanted to raise an objection but decided against it.

“It’s the only way to spread the cure, Harper,” I said. “Our best bet at curing Skye and putting this thing behind us.”

Harper slouched against the sofa and decided to give it some thought.

“But what about the cops,” Harper said. “And the people in the tower, won’t they have questions?”

“Yeah,” Skye chimed in. “It’s very risky.”

“Oh, I’m not talking about the Central tower,” I said. “There’s a few outside the city, has the same effect as the Central one. Those towers have been offline for years, but I know how to get them to work.”

“It’s too risky,” Harper said. “Not to mention it’s a literal war crime.”

“And what do you propose we do?” I asked. “Submit a bunch of unsubstantiated research to a board of research from a group of teenagers with zero qualifications?”

Harper was quiet.

“Even if they do believe us,” I said. “Do you know how long it’ll take for them to come up with a cure? What if they deem it a national emergency? What then? I don’t have that type of time, neither of us do.”

Harper looked as if she was about to say something but stayed quiet.

“Is that what you want Skye?” I asked. “To be sick forever?”

Skye reddened and didn’t meet my eyes.

“This is the only way we cure this,” I said, meeting Harper’s eyes. “It’s the only way you move on from this disease that’s taken up years of your life.”

Harper sat back on the chair, her arms on the handles. She sighed. She looked at Skye who met her eyes. The concern and love for each other was plain to see in their eyes. They were friends who’d been through thick and thin together, friends who knew what the other was thinking with only a glance. It reminded me of Vi and I. I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know what she was thinking.

Harper turned to face me. “War crimes it is.”