by L. B. Carter
Both he and Reed watched as a truck veered off the road and trundled out into what appeared to be a rocky field—the feed was more zoomed in now so they could make out the bird’s eye view of the vehicle. Then suddenly it stopped and… everything shattered. Watching it actually happen, sunk Reed’s hopes and his hear to his feet.
“It looks like something exploded from within the truck itself. I watched a few times. I think the devise was within the cab. Maybe suicide bomber? Maybe it was on autopilot and previously planted with a countdown? Remote pilot and detonation? I don’t know.” He didn’t offer up the option that it might have been an accident. They both knew better than to believe that.
“Getting rid of the materials. Like the scientist suspected.”
Smith turned halfway around. “Or the fugitives that had hitched a ride.”
Reed’s jaw clenched hard. Just because Nor hadn’t seen security didn’t mean it hadn’t been there. Or someone else had been watching the satellite footage. Drones could be flying overhead, out of sight. “Or both,” Reed agreed.
Looking again at the live feed, he instructed. “Play it again.” He didn’t want to watch it again. But he had to. It was his duty as mission leader. He had to know what happened. It was also his duty to his brother. He frowned, considering the moment of explosion. “That’s too big for just involving truck. In fact— Play it one more time? Yeah, that’s two explosions, one right after the other. Overkill.”
Smith slid on his goggles and nearly missed his chair sitting back down. He tapped away while Reed squinted, trying to figure out why there had been two explosions. It shouldn’t matter, but the mystery of what happened was personal this time.
Smith spoke slowly as if reading aloud. “The truck was next to a sinkhole when it detonated.”
Reed frowned for a minute, unsure how a sinkhole could play into this.
Smith elaborated. “I’m no scientist. We’d need Nor to confirm.”
The name made Reed’s jaw muscles ache.
“But a quick search indicates that a sinkhole in can be caused by melting permafrost. They tend to—”
“—release methane,” Reed finished the hypothesis. That had been in Mother’s lessons back when they were homeschooled.
The arctic was contributing a lot to the positive feedback loops that were exacerbating global warming, she’d told them with sorrow in her eyes. The Earth normally hides away some of the gases that give it a fever, burying them deep. It retained that balance by keeping a temperate climate, which allowed it to keep those greenhouse gases locked as if in a freezer.
But with the global heating, they were able to escape into the atmosphere, providing extra insulation to the Earth, which trapped the internal heat that normally radiated by some fraction to space. It was like Earth was wearing a sauna suit.
Reed hadn’t known what his mother was referring to—and still didn’t know what a sauna suit was—but he’d gotten the gist of her explanation.
“Methane is flammable,” he commented unnecessarily. “That seep will have tons of material to fuel that fire.”
Smith nodded. “It’s going to burn for …days if not weeks. We won’t be able to get an extraction team in, yeah.”
“Fuck,” Reed sighed again.
“I lost the feed when the explosion happened. Last I saw, the truck was slowing, and I gave Nor the two minute heads up. I don’t know if they got out before…”
Reed spun away, flinging the door open. “I need to…” be anywhere else. He couldn’t just stand here, staring at that video, waiting to hear from his brother, hoping to hear from his brother, to find out if he had survived or if… “Alert me if you hear anything.”
“Wait.” Smith wore a mask of pity that made Reed’s fist curls. “What happened with the training room? Kayna and Tilly need to be briefed.”
Reed swiped a hand over his face. “Fine.” That would give him something to do. Something to occupy his mind, a distraction. “It’s contained. Val is handling it. Liam broke through the two-way mirror, but he didn’t get further than that. I’ll go tell them. They’ll want to know he’s okay.” Reed wanted to know Nor was okay. He veered toward the hatch in the floor.
“If it’s contained, you should let them out of the safe room. Let them go see him?” his colleague suggested. “Being cooped up never helps anyone’s worry. Or being alone.” He raised a brow. He was inferring that he knew why Reed had been storming out of the control room. Reed needed have his shit together when in charge, but Smith knew he also needed space and reassurance. He’d seen Reed’s world crumble once already.
◆◆◆
Tilly and Kayna preceded Reed down the hall, concern for their loved one propelling their fast pace. He’d let them go in front of him, knowing exactly how they felt. When they got to the door, Reed detoured around them holding up a hand.
“Keep back,” he warned. “It might not be safe.” He knew he couldn’t ask them to go put on full suits. They still wore masks and gloves, and Reed had grabbed a simple mask from the women’s locker room as they passed.
They pressed against his arm, not responding. He straightened his elbow, knowing he’d probably have to keep them back forcibly. Then he punched in the code.
When he opened the door, he was grateful to see no bodies on the floor. Glass remained scattered about in disarray and there was …blood.
Reed followed the trail that hadn’t been there before across the ground and over the lip of the wall, spatters dotting the blanket that hung from its spike.
He zeroed in on the pair of bodies flopped together on the mats across the training room. The blood trailed right to them.
One of the women let out a gasp and a high-pitched squeak. “Wait.” Reed held them from darting in. He was also forcing himself to keep his feet planted on the other side of the room. “It can be transferred by blood.”
“Only if we eat it,” Kayna whined.
Reed didn’t cave. “Clean room. Now.” He pushed them, spinning them around and pulling the handle shut with his toe, using a hand braced on each of their shoulders to keep them in place and balance.
Maintaining his grip on each of them, as they resisted, Reed shoved them down the hall and into the clean room, where they took the last suits of the peg and got dressed in terse silence, rushing. Reed made sure they were nevertheless thorough.
If they got exposed, it would ruin everything. Mind on the mission.
Though really, his mind was back in that training room too, speculating on what happened. He’d confirm when they got back, but his eyes had seen a chunk of Val’s arm missing—a bite-sized chunk. And her blood had been on Liam’s chin.
If they had a zombie virus, they really couldn’t afford it to spread. Especially when the vaccine was in smithereens. And now, they were at two cases. Val was definitely infected after that kind of intrusive contact. …if either Liam and Val were alive.
They speed-walked back down the halls and didn’t bother with their respective locker rooms, Reed staying with the women as they slipped through the ladies’ locker room. It was a place Reed had secretly always wanted to see the inside of. In this situation, achieving his goal wasn’t an accomplishment.
His feet glued to the floor as soon as they stepped into the training room, his throat going dry sweat dripping inside his goggles. The suit felt more restricting than before. He struggled not to rip it off and run to Val. He couldn’t help her.
“They’re breathing,” Kayna announced. The girls were already at the side of the invalids.
Reed nodded. He wasn’t sure if that was better. Based on what he knew about Nor’s extraction effort—the details of which he hadn’t revealed to the girls, sticking to “There was a complication and we lost contact.”—he wasn’t sure anyone would survive this virus. He was no medic—and he was not calling the compound’s back to this mess—but he was sure a seizure wasn’t a good thing. He wasn’t convinced Liam hadn’t been flatlining.
Reed’s eyes drifte
d to the IV next to the four people. It was set up again as if it had never been used to smash a window. He swallowed the expanding lump. It didn’t go anywhere. Val had dragged Liam back to his makeshift bed and reset his care for him again, probably while down an arm. And probably trying not to throw up at the gore.
Mistakes. Too many mistakes. So much wrong all within one day. Like last time at the compound. Like that day in the Midwest with the tornado and the flood. Was he doomed to repeat such traumatic experiences over and over again?
Reed’s phone vibrated. He ignored the summons, since it was in his cargo pants beneath the clean suit. He couldn’t access it without risking exposure. Looking at Val curled next to Liam, having done all she could to help the guy, he knew she wouldn’t want Reed to take the risk. He ignored Father. Another mistake he’d pay for later.
Later, he’d tell him the situation was under control, encourage him and anyone else to stay far away, lest anyone else get the virus. It wasn’t an outright lie. There was nothing to do now but wait.
Wait and see if Nor was alive. Wait and see if Val and Liam would die. Wait and hope they would be able to fully destroy the virus. They’d have to cremate Val and Liam, probably incinerate this whole room, rebuild the training facilities …again. Reed would have to harden his heart and start over …again, his family, his loved ones decimated once more.
“Yield,” he submitted weakly and morosely to the Universe.
Chapter Nine
Reed had patched up the hole between the rooms while still in his suit using a clear tarp and a lot of duct tape—the tool of choice for anyone who worked in a job that required quick fixes in the field. He’d then cleaned up all the shards of glass and blood, bleaching the room with whatever bottle in the clean room had the most severe hazard stamps on the label.
The mundane task had been good for him. Zen. It allowed him to zone out and be productive, do something. Sterilized, he’d returned to the men’s locker room and was removing the suit to toss in the biohazard bin, when the pager system went off again.
“Reed.”
He was out of there and zipping to the control room like a shot.
“We got a call from an unknown number,” Smith told Reed without preamble as he walked in.
“Patch it through.” Reed couldn’t care if it was spam or a terrorist, he was not letting this potential lead fall through.
“Reed?” Rena. It was Rena. She was alive.
Reed swallowed. “Nor?” he enquired.
“Fine. Unconscious.”
His exhalation was more than just air. A lot of anxiousness also left him. A lot—not all.
“There was an explosion.” Her voice broke. He could hear tears in her uneven speech.
“We know. The truck detonated right next to a methane seep. What happened before that?”
“Nor was just helping me down from the truck when it happened. We got …tossed pretty far. When I woke up everything was… I just grabbed Nor’s arm and dragged him.”
Reed had to guess that her ability to survive without oxygen for a while and a bigger, stronger heart, revived her.
“He …he wasn’t breathing. Gave him mouth to mouth. He came to for a minute then passed out. But he’s breathing now. Well. I breathed for him for a little while; I had to swim us back. I couldn’t get to the boat.”
She’d swum both her and Nor back to Canada from Greenland? She must have been desperate to escape. He didn’t blame her. He was equally awed at her strength and determination. “Where are you? Are you safe?” It should have been his first questions.
“Canada. Some …diner. You’d hate it. I borrowed their phone, left Nor outside.”
Reed laughed weakly, the relief flooding his muscles like a relaxant. “Are you okay?”
“A few cuts and bruises. I’ll be okay.”
Reed swiped a hand down his face. “I’m …glad to hear you’re both al—all right.” He replaced ‘alive’ to avoid scaring her; he didn’t want her to know that they’d lost confidence for a bit there. “I’m proud of you.”
There was a pause. “Are you okay?” Rena joked and that more than her verbal affirmation convinced Reed she was indeed okay.
“Can you get back? Is the car still there?”
“Yeah; that’s where I left Nor. I’ not the best driver though. I don’t have a license.”
“Do your best.” He knew she’d only driven once—the night her grandfather died. It had been the middle of a nor’easter, and she’d saved Nor’s life then too. He had every faith that she was capable of getting them both back home.
“You weren’t followed were you?” He suddenly recalled the potentiality that the explosion had been to exterminate the intruders.
“No. Nor told me how to watch for that. And anyway, no on else can do what I can. I’m unique,” she said proudly.
Reed chuckled. “That’s the truth. Okay, be careful. Bring Nor back here as soon as you can so we can check for a concussion and handle any other injuries. Getting you two back here unharmed—no more harmed than you are—is the new mission. Got it?”
His mood plummeted when he realized that he’d have to tell Kayna and Tilly there would be no vaccine to administer to Liam or Val. On the plus side, the destruction of the specimen hopefully removed any chance that the virus could spread further—and they’d contained the only other host—hosts now.
“Stay on the line. John will check in with you.” Smith nodded his acquiescence. Reed needed to go be with Val. The reality that he was going to lose someone else… He couldn’t even process.
“I will. Tell Tilly I’ll get back there as soon as I can.”
Reed’s hopes lifted, though he willed them not to until he could confirm. “Did you… Do you have the vaccine?”
“Yeah. The box with the specimen didn’t survive the explosion though.”
He shared an excited look with Smith. She’d swum between countries with the dead weight of his brother, keeping him alive as well as herself with limited oxygen and energy, all while towing the vaccine? He no longer had trepidations about her joining the family.
“How?” Reed breathed. “Never mind we can talk about it when you get here. Just drive. But not too fast! We don’t want you getting pulled over. That’ll just delay everything.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
Reed laughed.
“You got this?” he asked Smith.
John nodded, doing a poor job of hiding his elation. “Go tell them the good news.”
Reed clapped the tech wiz on the back and jogged toward the training room. Feeling higher than the stratosphere, Reed couldn’t wait to order Val to fucking hold on until the vaccine arrived. And no biting.
He snickered. Only hours ago, he’d been reveling in her verbal bite and hoping she might be willing to try some physical biting …but not hard enough to break skin.
This vaccine had better work. He shoved the doubt aside. He couldn’t afford to be negative, but it did temper his thrill. He didn’t want Kayna and Tilly to think they were home free.
But there was hope.
Epilogue
Reed watched Rena dip under Val, then kick her in the back. He winced on her behalf. Nor next to him, also admiring the view through the new transparent window, whistled. Val whipped around and sprung on Rena, dropping them both to the mat. Rena twisted and rolled as she fell, landing on top of Val, their arms and legs all tangled.
“Nice,” Reed praised. “They’re both good. A pretty fair match.”
“Oh yeah,” Nor agreed. “It’s an impressive show.”
Laughing lightly, Reed couldn’t help but say I told you so. “See? I said this would be fun to watch. You may think you know it all, being in a relationship now. I still have much to teach you about women.”
Glancing over, Reed caught Nor’s eyes on Rena, lust but also pride in his gaze. She was sparing without gloves. Several new scars and healing wounds marred her pale skin. She’d come a long way, proving herself by saving Nor�
��s life …again.
“I give you my permission.” Reed said.
“For what?” Nor asked, smiling faintly at Rena as she locked Val in a choke hold.
Silently Reed was rooting for Val to drop down and out of Rena’s grip. “Rena,” he explained to his brother.
Nor raised his brows at his brother. The stiches holding the slash that went through Nor’s brow and down his cheek pulled. Reed had to admit Val might have been on to something with that ‘rugged’ comment. He’d have to ask if Nor was more attractive than him now. And if so, she might be allowed to punch him in the nose again. The bruise under his eyes was just beginning to fade. “I hate to break it to you,” Nor said, “but we’re already—”
Reed lifted a hand. “Yeah, I do not need to know the details about your love life. Though you’d better be using protection. I am not ready to be an uncle. I mean marriage.”
Nor’s mouth dropped. “It’s a little early for that,” he choked out nervously.
“Whoa. I’m not talking right now. I mean in like …ten years, little brother. But you need to put a ring on that. She deserves an official family. And it would be an honor to have her join.” It was more than permission he was offering. It was a nudge. He peered out the side of his eye at Nor, who was blinking at Reed. “Don’t let her go.”
Nor absorbed that for a few minutes, frozen in place. Reed let him process, listening to the women grunt and shout as they tossed each other around ruthlessly.
Rena didn’t hold back, and she was surprising Val with her unique style, a mix of boxing moves and evasive techniques. Her lung capacity meant she didn’t tire fast though she was smaller than Val. She was using her size to her advantage, even, dipping under and dodging Val’s swings and kicks.