“I still don’t get why this makes you a threat. Everyone knows our food is sprayed with that stuff.”
“Right, but what everyone doesn’t know is the adaptations have created new breeds of insects—superbugs. They haven’t responded to even the strongest poisons, and LifeFarm can’t use a stronger one at this point, not without endangering human health and further damaging the soil and water supplies.”
“It’s already damaging our health. Why do you think hospitals are such a mess?” Liz crossed her arms.
“Yeah, but that’s not the problem. The problem is, not only are these superbugs not dying, they’re carrying a virus.” Javier stood, his pulse racing. Saying out loud what he’d discovered scared him.
“A virus? What kind of virus?”
“It’s like dengue fever, but it’s new. The bees are carrying it, but they can’t transmit it to humans. The mosquitos are a different story. I haven’t figured out how both species became carriers.” He paced and talked with his hands. “The best I can figure is there was a common host somewhere.”
“The pesticides caused a virus? I haven’t heard of anyone getting sick.”
“The chemicals didn’t cause the virus. The superbugs and the virus appearing at the same time is a coincidence. And of course you haven’t heard of anyone getting sick. You think LifeFarm would let that get out? This virus is basically their fault—if the carrier insects could be eradicated, there would be no problem.” He sat on the edge of the desk. “There have been outbreaks in several cities and towns in the Midwest, where farming is concentrated. A few dozen people have died, last time I checked. When I presented my findings to my employer, they contacted the CDC. The next day, the suits showed up. They said they wanted to celebrate my achievement.”
“How’s that?”
“I was to present my findings at an industry luncheon. They said I was the first to discover what was causing the illnesses. The next day, I loaded up my case with the specimens and got into their car.” Javier looked at the floor and shook his head, lamenting how easily he’d let flattery get to him.
“So instead of taking you to a banquet, they drove you to Colorado. Why?”
“This wasn’t supposed to be the final destination. Somewhere in Utah, the passenger said they had to keep my discovery hidden, and they were taking me to a holding facility in Missouri. After a gas stop around here, the driver lost control of the car and hit a tree. They both died, and I ended up here.”
****
Liz tried to piece together everything Javier was telling her. LifeFarm was a dirty company, but she hadn’t suspected such close ties to the government, and she certainly hadn’t predicted they would hide the existence of a virus that was killing people. Looking back, she should have. All agriculture-related legislation worked in their favor. But could they have the government illegally detain and kill anyone who learned the truth?
She’d figured LifeFarm controlled the hospitals, or they wouldn’t be able to influence hospital policy. Most hospitals were privately owned, so LifeFarm used the courts to keep doctors from connecting agricultural practices to health, unless it benefited them. A couple of cases went to the Supreme Court, and the rulings always worked in LifeFarm’s favor—or that’s what the media reported, at least. It was like they had a cheat code that allowed them to use the government as a tool in controlling everything. It could be money, but was it that simple?
“So LifeFarm wants to keep the virus under wraps, and that means keeping you quiet. Is that about right?” she asked.
“Basically.”
“But they can blame the virus on anything.”
“Doesn’t matter. They can’t kill the virus-carrying insects. Releasing information about the superbugs could turn the people against them—it’s the same reason they haven’t developed a vaccine. They’d have to admit fault to have known about the virus so early.”
“So, what’s your plan?”
“I need to go somewhere to lay low and find a sympathetic virologist to help me.” He gestured to the notebook on the table. “That’s part of what I’ve been researching. I was thinking about a small town in Iowa called Hayes. It’s scientifically advanced. There’s a pharmaceutical lab, and the population is young. There’s a university in a neighboring city. I think I can blend.”
Liz leaned towards him. “And how do you plan to get there?”
Javier pursed his lips. “I was hoping you could help me with that.”
She sat back. Of course he needed her help. It wasn’t like he could walk to Iowa with his shiny briefcase and no other belongings, and with his face plastered all over the news, taking a bus was out of the question.
His story was unbelievable—or it would be to most people. Liz had seen enough of the government’s and LifeFarm’s dirty underbellies to know what he said was true. “When do you want to leave?”
“Now would be great.”
Liz laughed. “Best I can do is tomorrow morning.”
****
Charlie stared at the photograph of Mendez with LifeFarm’s tip line displayed underneath it. Why hadn’t anyone turned the guy in? Fifty thousand dollars was a lot of money.
Maybe Mendez was dead in a ditch somewhere near the crash site. That would make Charlie’s job much easier—assuming he still had his job by the end of the week. He’d assured the Captain he’d have Mendez back in custody within three days. That was two days ago.
Charlie took a swig from his water bottle and went back to monitoring the various news reports.
“We found him!” Sylvia’s voice came from the doorway. She held a few papers and a big smile.
“Where?”
“Gunnison, Colorado. Been hiding out in a homeless shelter.” She approached the desk and held out the papers. “Here. A resident called it in half an hour ago.”
Charlie smiled. “Get a team organized. We’ll get him after dark.”
Chapter Three
The sound of shattering glass yanked Liz from her dream. Lifting herself onto one elbow, she listened through the closed door. A man yelled. A woman screamed. Gunfire.
Her heart rate skyrocketed. She wrestled out of her blanket and stood on the mat she’d placed behind her desk. Javier stood frozen next to the bookcase, his wide eyes asking the same question she had: what the hell is going on?
Javier grabbed his pants from the floor, yanked them on, and stuffed the rest of his belongings into the backpack Liz had given him for the trip.
More gunfire, closer this time. Then a woman’s yell. “You killed him!”
“Where is this kid?” The demand came from a man with a deep, gritty voice.
Liz swallowed. Who had been gunned down? Fighting the urge to find out, she grabbed her own bag and slung it around her torso. “We can’t go out that way.”
“No kidding.” Javier put on the backpack, threw on his baseball cap, and grabbed his case. At the window he yanked open the blinds, examining the edges of the pane. “Does this open?”
“It will in a second.” Liz’s eyes darted around the room. What would quickly break glass? She grabbed a souvenir baseball—her son’s—from the shelf and hurled it at the window. It cracked the glass and bounced back, landing near her feet.
The doorknob jostled.
No time to try again. She grabbed Javier’s arm and pulled him into the bathroom, locking the door behind them.
A loud crash came from the office door.
From the cabinet under the sink, Liz removed the small fire extinguisher and held it in front of her. Javier yanked the ceramic lid from the back of the toilet and held it up on the opposite side of the door frame.
Liz’s heart pounded in her ears.
The knob rattled. The door was designed to swing out, so the intruder couldn’t kick it open easily. It wouldn’t take long to figure out how to break in, though.
Holding her breath, she repositioned her feet and tightened her grip on the extinguisher.
Bullets exploded through the doo
r around the knob, sending splinters of wood into the air. The intruder yanked it open. He stood before them wearing a dark uniform, complete with a helmet and assault weapon.
Javier leapt into the office and smashed the lid over the gunman’s head, shattering it over his helmet. The guy stumbled back and fired aimlessly, peppering the ceiling with bullets. He reoriented himself and aimed the gun at Javier.
Liz pulled the extinguisher’s pin and squeezed the handle.
White foam covered the gun-toting bastard. His arms flailed as he tried to wipe it away, but Liz kept spraying.
Javier ran behind her and grabbed her arm. “Come on!”
She dropped the extinguisher. It clanged on the floor as Javier dragged her away.
****
Javier peered into the corridor. A body lay on the floor, and an officer stood with his back to them. Others ran down the hall, yelling and firing weapons. SWAT wouldn’t fire recklessly like that. Who are these guys?
Making sure Liz followed, Javier hurried across the hall and into the reception area. They ducked under the desk, where the night nurse had taken cover. She was crying and shaking.
Liz took her hands. “Are you hurt?”
The nurse shook her head. “They killed Stephen.”
Liz pulled her into her arms.
Ignoring his stomach tightening, Javier set the case next to the nurse and crawled away from them. There was only one way to stop this.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Liz asked. “Get back under here!”
He made eye contact. “I can end this right now. They’re after me. They won’t kill anyone else if I surrender.”
“But more people will die from the virus if you do that. You think these guys will let you live?”
Javier gritted his teeth. Not only would these guys kill him, Liz knew enough for them to kill her too. But what she knew might not matter. They’d killed a resident who knew nothing. “We need to go. The one you blasted won’t be long.” He crawled to the corridor and peeked out.
An officer faced Javier, but he was looking to the side. His foam-coated colleague joined him a moment later, and the two split up, one heading right for them.
Javier pulled back under the desk, joining the women. He held his breath until footsteps on the tiles passed them. Javier pointed and mouthed, “Back to the office.”
Liz put her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Stay here until they leave. They’ll probably follow us.”
The nurse nodded and scooted farther under the desk.
They ran back to the office and pulled the desk in front of the door. Liz snatched the extinguisher from the floor and returned to the cracked window, using the heavy canister to whack at the weakened glass. After four quick hits, a small hole formed. Two more made it big enough to escape.
She stuck one leg through the hole and eased her body through.
The desk scooted across the floor. “In here,” a man yelled.
“Hurry!” Liz held out her hand. “Give me the case.”
Javier handed it over and climbed through the hole, careful not to touch the glass. Crouching, Liz led him through the darkness along the wall, stopping at the corner. She looked left and right before running along the next wall. “My car’s in the lot over here.”
The crack of gunshots echoed around them, and something zinged past Javier’s ear. A sharp pain hit his calf. He screamed through clenched teeth and looked back. The shooter hid in the darkness.
Liz grabbed Javier’s arm and ran. He limped along, ignoring the fire in his leg and keeping up with her pace.
****
Liz fished her keys from her bag as another bullet whizzed by them. Twenty feet from her car, she pointed the fob at it. The doors unlocked and the engine started.
She opened the back door, and Javier lunged inside, lying across the seat. He’d screamed before she grabbed him, but she didn’t know where the bullet had hit. The shot must have come from a small pistol, or he’d be in much worse shape.
After slamming his door shut and falling into the driver’s seat, Liz sped towards the lot’s exit. Two parked sedans blocked it. She held her breath and veered to the side, mowing down a section of the short fence surrounding the property. A clank came from the back of the car—a bullet had hit the trunk.
Squeezing the wheel, she mashed the accelerator to the floor, keeping her headlights off until she was farther down the road. “Where’d it get you?”
“My leg.”
She stole a quick glance behind her. Javier had sat up and held his calf.
“Did it go through?”
“I don’t think so.” A zipper sounded when he opened the backpack.
She twisted around for another peek, looking back in time to run a red light. Fortunately, no one else was out at this hour. He’d rolled up his pant leg and was tying a shirt around the injury, groaning when he tightened the makeshift bandage.
It wasn’t ideal first aid, but it would have to do.
****
Javier leaned against the door and propped his leg up on the backpack. Liz sped along the winding road, frequently looking in the rearview mirror at him.
“Are they following us?” he asked.
“No. I turned onto a back-mountain road. It’ll take us to the highway eventually. I doubt those guys will think to come this way. How’s the leg?”
Pain surged through his calf, but he didn’t want her to worry. “It’ll be all right. The bandage is helping.” He hoped that was true. “Who was Stephen?”
“A resident. Would come and go, stay for a few months, then disappear for a while. Did that for years. Sweet man.” Her voice wavered. “His mind didn’t fare well in the Debacle.”
Javier sat up a little straighter. “You call it that?” Since the Eurasia War ended ten years earlier, only those most critical of the government called it the Debacle.
“Course I do. It took my husband.”
Javier settled back against the door, unsure of what to say. Though the media had reported a U.S. victory in the war, suspicions surrounding its cause, money spent, and outcome lingered among the population. How could peaceful countries, ones that used to be allies, suddenly pose a military risk? And only agricultural areas were targeted—at least that’s what the conspiracy sites said. The rumor was LifeFarm had tried to take over farming practices worldwide, and it failed miserably. Thousands of soldiers and countless more civilians were lost for no apparent gain.
After several silent minutes, Liz cleared her throat. “Kyle was stationed in Eastern Europe, near the end of it. Was his third deployment in as many years . . . this was after his retirement, mind you. He knew by then things weren’t on the up and up.”
“What did he see?”
“It was more about what he didn’t see. No signs of aggression, only defensive action. Our guys were torching fields of supposed enemies to get the leaders to cooperate. The army says he died in an air raid in the Czech Republic. Wasn’t anything left of him to send home.”
Javier touched the bandage. It hadn’t bled through yet. “What do you think happened?”
Liz drove in silence, tightly gripping the wheel.
“I’m sorry, I just–”
“I don’t know what happened. I do know that the guys who tried to speak up tended to disappear or end up dead. He told me that after the second deployment.” She clicked on the radio. Static came through the speakers, and she turned it off. “It’d probably do you good to get some sleep.”
****
“Okay, Chief Rice. We go live in one minute.” The producer took his place behind the camera.
“Yeah, I know. I’ve done this before.” Charlie made one last adjustment of his jacket, making sure everything was flat and neat. He stood across from the reporter, a tiny blonde thing who looked like she’d blow away in a strong wind. Next to her, Charlie felt like a linebacker. They stood in front of a bright green screen. During the interview, an image of the shelter where they’d found Mendez would be proje
cted.
Charlie ran his hand over his bald head. The lights made him sweat, and his brown skin did little to hide the perspiration. The best he could hope for was a short interview.
The anchorman appeared on the screen before them, though he was physically just twenty feet beyond that. He looked at the camera and started speaking. “Good morning. We have a breaking story, which you’ll only see here on KRN. A fugitive by the name of Javier Mendez, wanted on vehicular homicide, drug, and weapons charges, escaped capture by an elite force of Homeland Security agents overnight. We have the man in charge of that team, Chief Charles Rice, to offer more information about Mendez and what’s being done to apprehend him. He’s standing by with KRN’s Molly George in Gunnison, Colorado. Molly?”
The little blonde looked into the camera and spoke into her mic. “Thanks, Connor. I’m here with Chief Rice, who’s graciously agreed to give us an update on the dangerous fugitive.” She turned to Charlie. “Chief, what additional information can you give us?”
She held the mic up, but Charlie still had to bend over to speak into it. “He’s considered extremely dangerous. He shot at our agents, killing a homeless man. He escaped with the aid of a shelter employee, a woman named Elizabeth Carson, and he’s believed to be injured.” A photograph—the one on file at the shelter—of the woman appeared on the screen where Charlie’s had been.
“Why is this woman helping him?”
“We’re unsure at this time. For now, she should also be considered armed and dangerous and is wanted for aiding a fugitive. She’s driving a silver 2030 Honda Civic and may be headed northeast, possibly through Denver.” A photograph of the car appeared on the screen. “If anyone sees the car or either of the suspects, contact your local authorities immediately.”
“Thank you, Chief Rice. Connor, back to you.”
The lights on Charlie went out, and he wiped his head again. Hopefully, someone would see the car and call it in. If this kid got away, not only could sensitive information about the virus get out and cause a panic, but Charlie’s job could be in jeopardy—even with a security team at his disposal, he’d failed to neutralize the threat twice. He couldn’t let it happen a third time.
The Seventh Seed Page 3