Mercury Striking

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Mercury Striking Page 19

by Rebecca Zanetti


  Holy fuck. Bile rippled up Jax’s throat, and he swallowed ruthlessly. Lifting his gun, he fired three shots between the eyes.

  The Ripper fell back into several barrels, sending them scattering. More barrels scattered around the nearly empty metal building, and water dripped somewhere in the back.

  Wyatt leaned over at his side, puking onto the concrete floor.

  Shit. The blond was Laurie. Her headless corpse lay at an odd angle, half hidden by more barrels.

  Jax shut down and jogged toward the nightmarish scene. He kicked the Ripper, who rolled over onto his back, eyes unseeing and dead. Blood coated the ground, adding the smell of copper to the stench of unwashed flesh and death. Turning, Jax scouted the one-level building. Mainly empty except for the barrels; only one room stood off to the side. Probably what used to be an office.

  He waited for Wyatt to gain control and then started for the office. Before he reached the door, another man, this one wearing a torn and filthy baseball uniform, stumbled out dragging Pete. Blood dripped from a gaping hole in Pete’s neck, where his jugular had been bitten away. A white bone, the spine, stuck out at an odd angle.

  “Jesus,” Wyatt muttered, taking aim and hitting the Ripper center mass in a kill shot. “Two Rippers? Working together?”

  “Probably just temporarily with two victims.” Jax had seen wild, crazed Rippers as well as methodical, organized Rippers. “I’d give my left arm for a shrink or one of those FBI profilers from television.” He needed to know more about what he was dealing with.

  Lightning lit up the night outside the open doorway.

  Wyatt sighed. “We burning them?”

  Jax rubbed his aching chest. “Did either of the kids have family?”

  “No more than the rest of us.”

  “Then we burn them here.” Carrying the bloody carcasses through the violent weather and then all the way back to the group didn’t make sense. “I’d rather nobody else saw them like this anyway.”

  Wyatt stalked across the bloody ground and hefted Pete in one big hand and the Ripper in the other, dragging them both to the other bodies. “The Rippers were probably decent people at one point, too.”

  Jax lifted an eyebrow. Wyatt had a way of seeing beyond the obvious, beyond the division between friend and enemy, into reality. “I’m glad you’re here,” Jax said.

  Wyatt grimaced at the pile of death, his full lips set in a hard line. “I’m not.”

  Fair enough. Jax reached for a small canister of lighter fluid to spray on the bodies. Then he stood back. “You’re the preacher.”

  Wyatt sighed. “At some point, you’re gonna have to make a speech or give a eulogy, you know?”

  “Not with you around.” Jax folded his hands and shoved down the urge to gag at the smell. “I lead with action, not words.”

  “You need both.” Wyatt lowered his head. “God, please accept these four victims into your arms, and maybe send us some help while you’re at it. Amen.”

  Jax swallowed. “Amen.” Was help coming? He needed to finish his discussion with Lynne before returning that message to Greg Lake.

  Wyatt fumbled with a match.

  “I’ve got it.” Jax held out a hand. Wyatt faltered and then dropped the match into his palm. Jax leaned down and struck the match on his boot, igniting fire, which he dropped on the piles. Laurie’s hair ignited first. He let out a low growl and then turned around. “Scout around and make sure there’s nothing here to take back.”

  Wyatt went for the office, while Jax looked in the empty barrels and tried to ignore the stench of burning flesh. Finally, they met up at the door, both empty-handed.

  Smoke billowed out. “Let’s take cover the hell away from here,” Jax muttered, leading the way into the storm and around several warehouses, most with open doors. Finally, he reached the overhang of a boat storage facility that looked out into the dark vastness of what used to be the city of Los Angeles. He hunkered down. “The rain should pass in a few minutes.”

  Wyatt slid to sit beside him on the concrete, shaking out his wet baseball cap. “Maybe we should send larger scouting parties out.”

  Jax nodded. “Yeah. Who’s in charge of that?”

  Wyatt turned, and heat glimmered in his eyes. “You are.”

  Jax blinked. “No—”

  “Yes, man. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Whether you like it or not, you’re in charge of everything, and you have to know people to do it right.” Wyatt inched the hat back on his head.

  “I know my soldiers.” Jax hunched his shoulders.

  “I know, and that’s why our soldiers are still alive. But you haven’t taken over the rest of the camp. The entire group needs a leader, not just the fighters,” Wyatt said.

  Jax’s throat tightened. “Wyatt—”

  “I know.” Wyatt flicked a rock away from his hand. “It’s hard. Getting to know people now, caring about them, it’s hard. Because most of us aren’t going to make it.”

  Jax exhaled slowly. “You think I’m a pussy.”

  Wyatt grinned. “No. I think you’re the toughest guy I’ve ever met, and I owe you my life. Without question. But I think you need to step up fully, to take over the entire group, for us all to survive. It’s time.”

  Jesus. Why couldn’t somebody else cater to the civilians and scouts? “Tace is usually the one trying to get me to open up.”

  “Tace isn’t here.” Wyatt leaned his head back against metal. “We should talk about him. He’s worried.”

  “If he’s worried, then he’s fine.” Jax stretched his legs out. Something poked his thigh, and he reached in for the newest gift from Lena.

  Wyatt’s eyebrows rose. “That’s an odd rock.”

  “Yeah.” Jax twisted the heart-shaped rock around in his hand. Blue dots, made by markers, formed a heart within the heart. “She’s always giving me rocks with a heart somehow cut or drawn on them.”

  “Blue hearts?” Wyatt asked.

  Jax stilled. “Sometimes.” No. No way. He shook his head. “Doesn’t mean anything. She’s a little girl who likes hearts, most do, and her favorite color is blue.” The girl had never spoken a word, and he truly had no idea who’d named her. “It’s a coincidence.” A chill skittered down his back.

  “If you say so.” Wyatt stretched his neck. “She always gives me watches or clocks. All broken.”

  Jax shuddered and glanced toward his buddy. “That’s kind of creepy.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. Perhaps I remind her of a guy she knew who wore a watch.” Wyatt picked up a pebble to toss across the vacant area. “Or Scorpius messed with her brain and those rumors about possible psychics are true.” He grinned.

  “You’ve never had the fever?”

  Wyatt shook his head. “Nope. Not yet, anyway.”

  All right. So. Jax cleared his throat. “How is April Snyder doing?” He couldn’t imagine losing a kid.

  “Not good, but she’s trying. Is working at organizing the scavenging parties.”

  “Good. Um, did you have family? Before Scorpius?”

  Wyatt chuckled, the sound deeper than the storm. “This is you trying to connect?”

  “Fuck you.” Jax glared at the darkness.

  “Sorry. Okay. Yeah. I was raised by my mom, who was a paralegal. Smart as heck. The fever got her.” Wyatt rubbed his chin. “Before that, she was so damn proud when I graduated from Stanford and went to the NFL.”

  Stanford? Man. Jax had fought next to the man for months, and he hadn’t known he’d gone to Stanford. “I figured you more for a Michigan State or Notre Dame guy.” Both had great teams.

  “Yeah, but I wanted to stay in California close to my mom.” Wyatt shifted his feet.

  “No wife or kids?” Jax glanced sideways at one of his friends and a man he should know a lot better than he did.

  “Nope.” Lines cut into Wyatt’s face. “I was dating this woman, a cheerleader, and she was pretty cool. Gorgeous and smart.” He cleared his voice, and his chin dropped. “Sh
e, ah, got pregnant.”

  Jax stilled. “Oh.”

  “Yeah.” Wyatt grasped another rock and side-armed it across the pavement. “I was, unsure, you know? Worried about how a kid would affect my life.” He shook his head. “I was an asshole.”

  “I doubt that.” Jax shook his head.

  Wyatt breathed in. “One day, I met her at the doctor’s office for one of those ultrasound things? Saw a baby move.” He rubbed his chest. “My baby.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Wyatt smiled, his lips trembling. “I thought it was a girl, but Margie thought a boy.” He swallowed several times. “We never found out who was right. She caught Scorpius, and neither of them made it.” He rubbed his eye. “I wanted that kid. After I saw her on that screen, I wanted her.” He shrugged. “Although now I wonder. If I’d been more sure, if I’d—”

  “No.” Jax slapped an arm around his friend. “There are no ifs. Scorpius took them out, and there’s nothing you could’ve done. You know that.”

  “Yeah.” Wyatt shuddered. “I would’ve liked to see my baby girl.”

  Jax sighed. “Let’s hope she would’ve had her mama’s looks.”

  Wyatt chuckled, his chest moving, while one tear slid from his eye. “God willing.” He pushed to his feet. “Let’s get back. I don’t mind bad weather.”

  Jax stood.

  Wyatt frowned. “You have family?”

  Jax’s gut clenched. “A mom and a younger brother. They’re both gone.”

  “Sorry.” Wyatt peered into the empty land.

  “Me too.” Jax jogged into the rain, not feeling the chill. Maybe he didn’t talk much, and perhaps he hadn’t made much of an effort to talk to people or get to know them. But he’d sacrificed enough, damn it.

  The run home took longer than he’d expected, thanks to the angry storm. The wind fought them, rain battered them, and debris chased them. Finally, they reached the outskirts of the protected area. He stopped and whistled a low tune. An answering whistle relaxed his shoulders. After checking in with the sentries, he ordered Wyatt inside while he scouted the outside to make sure all was well.

  He hadn’t figured out what to say to Lynne yet. True, he’d made a promise to kill, but he hadn’t known he was promising to kill the president. If Lynne spoke the truth, and Atherton had turned into a Ripper, then he needed to be taken out. If Lynne was lying, Jax couldn’t tell.

  Sleeping with her had been a mistake. It was fucking with his head.

  He paused at the south side of the building, looking up in time to see Lynne Harmony near the entrance. Her arms were crossed, and he could feel her gaze on him. Her posture was ramrod straight, and her chin was high.

  Tension ticked down his spine. Instinct whispered he was about to have a hell of a fight. He reached her in long strides, his temper prickling. “Why the hell are you outside?” Had his people become so lax they just let her wander around?

  She lifted an eyebrow, looking every bit the educated sophisticate. “I was waiting for you. It’s time we talked.”

  “About what?” He put his hands on his hips and crowded into her space.

  Fire flashed in her gorgeous eyes. “I know where Myriad is, and I’m willing to trade that information for your cooperation.”

  He studied her calm façade. The woman was trying to shake him down? Irritation clawed down his throat. “If I don’t cooperate?”

  “Then you don’t get the information.” Her delicate jaw hardened. “No matter what you do.”

  He’d had a rotten night, and now the woman he’d fought his own people to protect was practicing extortion? Oh, hell no. “Let’s test that theory.” Ducking his head, he tossed her over his shoulder.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  A war can be won without bloodshed . . . rarely.

  —Dr. Franklin Xavier Harmony

  Lynne coughed out, upside down over Jax’s powerful shoulder. Shock kept her immobile up the stairs and into the apartment. The door clicked shut and he bent, putting her on her feet.

  “What the hell?” she spat out.

  He faced her fury, aggression in every line of his body. “You sure extortion is how you want to play this?”

  She stopped breathing. Maybe it had been a bad plan, but now she was committed. “I’m sure we can work out an agreement.”

  “Sit down.”

  Anxiety bloomed in her chest, and her knees wobbled. Sitting down might be a good idea. There was no way she could get through him and out the door. So she backed away to perch on the sofa, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Are you going to sit?” she asked. Even across the rickety coffee table, he loomed.

  He sat on the threadbare chair, the movement both graceful and intimidating, his gaze never leaving hers. “Now talk.”

  She bristled. “Stop ordering me around.”

  He extended his long legs onto the table and crossed one combat boot over the other. No expression marked his strong features, but the white scar along his jaw stood out in the meager light. “Lynne, I’ve had a shitty night. The only reason I’m not covered in blood and soot from burned bodies is because I’ve spent half the night running in a rain cold enough to pierce bone. Stop fucking with me, because I’m done.”

  The chill ticking over her skin had nothing to do with the rainy night. “Who died?”

  “Two kids out scouting and two Rippers who might’ve been decent guys at some point.”

  Life sucked. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “I don’t care,” he said evenly, revealing not a hint of the passionate man who’d taken her away the past night. “Now you’re going to answer every damn question I have, and we’ll end with the location of Myriad. First, why do you want the president dead, and why is he saying you’re carrying a new infection?”

  She exhaled, noting her racing heart rate. If she just seized right now, if her heart would finally burst, then all of the hell would be over. Yet her heart, blue and damaged, kept on ticking. Way too fast. Challenging Jax had been a bad idea. Cooperating was her only logical choice. Right now, anyway. “Fine. Bret is a Ripper with the power of the presidency behind him, and I saw him murder the sitting president.”

  “You were lovers.”

  “Yes.” Heat climbed into her face. For goodness sake, she was a grown woman.

  “You saw him kill a former president, and yet, nobody did anything.” Jax didn’t twitch a muscle.

  “Right. Bret already had his people in place. They took me back to the temporary CDC in D.C. afterward, and I started planning my escape that day.” She shuddered. “I stole a phone from one of the labs and called Uncle Bruce, who had already gathered supplies. Getting out took over a month, but we finally had the opportunity, which I already told you about. The second I got free, Bret created the Elite Force out of men from the Secret Service, the FBI, and the army to hunt me down. The EF’s sole purpose for now is to find me.”

  Jax lifted his chin. “Why?”

  “Bret says it’s because he loves me, and because of my research on a cure for Scorpius. But what he really wants is to hurt me.” God knew what he’d do to her if he actually caught her.

  “So it’s personal.” Jax gave no indication whether he believed her or not, his voice remaining level and distant.

  “Yes.” Was it ever personal. “After the fever, he changed, became obsessed with power.” Hell. Obsessed with her, too.

  “Once and for all, are you carrying any sort of new infection?” Jax asked.

  She shook her head, plucking a string on her worn pants. “Of course not. There’s no new infection. That’s just a ploy to get people to turn me in.”

  “Last I heard, the Brigade was the first line of defense against the Scorpius disaster.”

  She nodded. “Yes, but the Brigade is putting out fires all over the country by protecting nuclear supplies and other situations like that. The EF is a singular purpose or mission organization, and right now, I’m their target.”

  “Is the Brigade wor
king with the EF?”

  “No, I don’t think so. When the EF caught up with us and killed my uncle, the Brigade, or rather, the McDougalls, weren’t anywhere around.”

  Jax watched her like a hawk eyeing a defenseless field mouse. “Where is Myriad?”

  She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I think I found the coordinates of Myriad Labs in the data you secured from Baker and Baker.”

  Tension filled the space with a heaviness she could feel in her flesh.

  Jax crossed his arms. “Why not just tell me instead of trying to force my cooperation?”

  She hugged her legs. “I was afraid you’d turn me over to the Elite Force. I’ve got to get to Myriad before Bret does.”

  Jax lifted his chin, his gaze scorching. Did he believe her? “The president is going to Myriad?” he asked.

  “He wants the records and tests at Myriad that may lead to a cure. If he has a cure, or even a way to help people survive the contagion better, he’ll be able to control every nation in the world. Hopefully he doesn’t know where I’m heading. But I know he’s been tracking me,” she murmured. “He confiscated all of my research notes, and I really need to get them, but I don’t know how. I remember my research, but there were so many tests and so many different concoctions, I can’t remember everything, even with my brain working better than before.”

  Jax rubbed his chin. “Tell me everything you know about the research that was being done at Myriad.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Promise you won’t turn me over.”

  “No. Talk now, Lynne.”

  Damn it. She really didn’t have a choice. Somehow, she had to convince him, and maybe the truth would do it. “Fine. They’d managed to synthesize vitamin B in the lab in concentrated amounts, and I think their results showed promise. Enough to investigate further.” She gestured with her hands as she spoke. “Bret was busy consolidating power and didn’t pay much attention to my work or contacts at that point. He’d already survived the fever by then, and he’d changed. I didn’t realize it at the time, though.”

  “His focus went from dealing with the crisis to consolidating his own power?” Jax asked.

 

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