Knight Awakening (The Scorpius Syndrome Book 6)

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “What is wrong with you?” The words burst out of him, although he kept his voice quiet. “You shouldn’t want to be with me. Have you lost your mind?”

  She nodded. “Probably. Haven’t we all, at least a little bit? Listen. Like I said, it’s been you and me since we got here. We survived the Bunker together, and we’ve protected each other’s backs since. I like you and I trust you, whether or not it makes sense to anybody else. I’m not looking for more than that, so stop worrying about it.” Her chuckle soothed something deep inside him. “Just sit there and look pretty.”

  He couldn’t help his smile. The woman was impossible. “On that note, even though you said you didn’t want to celebrate, I found you a birthday present.” He fetched the necklace from his pocket. “The stone matches your eyes.”

  Those eyes softened as she accepted the bauble. “Marcus,” she breathed. “This looks like onyx surrounded by diamonds. It’s beautiful.”

  “It’s yours.” He watched as she slipped it over her head. The stone didn’t come close to the beauty of her dark eyes.

  She smiled. “Thank—”

  A scream for help pierced the night and stopped her words cold.

  21

  My body is one long line of stress. Why can’t I find a cure?

  —Dr Penelope Kim, Journal

  Penelope jumped to her feet, her hand dropping from the pretty necklace.

  Marcus shoved away from the table. “Stay here.” He moved for the back door, his gait sure and fast along with the other soldiers.

  “No.” She followed him, having to move into a jog. “I’ll stay behind you, but that was a scream for help.” Somebody might need a doctor, and with every soldier in the place hurtling out the door, she had plenty of protection.

  Jax met them, running down the street, his gun already in his hand. The night was still dusky and bright enough to see him clearly. “The scream came from the northwest.”

  They ran around the training facility and past the two rows of Merc houses when another scream, this one even louder, bellowed from the Pure apartment building.

  “Shit,” Jax muttered, taking a left beyond the last house.

  He skidded to a stop in front of the apartment building. Two guards lay face down in the burned grass, not moving. Marcus edged toward them, his gaze scouring the area. He reached the first one and leaned down, feeling for a pulse. Then he moved to the other one and turned to Jax, shaking his head.

  They were both dead?

  Sharon barreled out, blood covering her neck and dripping down onto her white sundress. Her hand was clamped to her neck, and her eyes wild. “Jax,” she breathed. “There’s a Ripper inside. You have to stop him. Please.”

  Jax looked around and gave fast orders to the assembled soldiers. “Marcus, you’re with me.”

  Marcus nodded and motioned for a younger soldier. “Byron? You’re on Penelope and Sharon.”

  The young man hustled over, taking point, a big gun in his thin hand. “Got it.”

  Gunfire erupted inside the building, either on the third or fourth floor. Penelope reached for Sharon, pulling her away from the front lawn. “Let me see.” She ignored the movements of the soldiers, confident Byron would protect them so she could concentrate.

  Tears ran down Sharon’s pale face, and more blood matted in her light hair. “How did a Ripper get inside?” she croaked, catching sight of the two downed guards. “Henry and Karl. Are they—”

  “I think they’re dead,” Penelope said, gently prying Sharon’s hand away from her neck. “I’m sorry.” She winced. “Is that a bite mark?” It looked like the Ripper had taken a chunk out of the woman’s neck.

  “Yes.” Terror filled the woman’s wide eyes.

  “Okay.” Penelope put an arm around Sharon’s shoulders and turned her toward the longer street. “Let’s get you back to my clinic. We’re going to need to suture your neck, and then you’re going to have a rough night fighting the fever.”

  Sharon pulled back. “I don’t want to die.”

  Penelope put her professional expression back into place. “You’re not going to die. I have good vials of B, and I’m going to inject you along with some nice morphine. It’ll be a tough night, I’m not going to lie to you. However, you will get through it, and you’ll see tomorrow.”

  Sharon stumbled into place beside her, accepting Penny’s arm around her shoulder again. “Not everyone survives, Doc Penelope,” she mumbled.

  “I know, but if we get B into you right away, your chances are much better. It’s rare not to survive if we get the concoction inside your veins within a day, and we’ll be there within an hour of your being bitten. You’re going to be all right, Sharon.” Penelope walked faster, noting Byron covering them as they moved. They reached the clinic, and Lynne ran out past the guard with a lantern in her hand.

  “What’s happened?” Lynne asked, reaching for Sharon’s other arm.

  “Ripper bite,” Penelope said grimly, opening the door and escorting the injured woman to the first examination room. She set Sharon on the bed, forgoing the examination table. “Hold on for a second, Sharon.” She moved for the worn counter and opened the drawer for a sterilized wipe and the suture kit. “I need to clean this and then patch you up.”

  Lynne set the lantern on a table next to the bed and then turned to disappear down the hallway.

  Penelope cleaned the wound and wiped off the blood before suturing the skin back together. “You’re doing great. Just keep breathing evenly.”

  Lynne returned with a vial of B concoction and a syringe of morphine. “Give me your other arm.” She administered the injections and then stood back. “We’ll inject you every hour for the next twelve, and the fever will break between twelve and twenty-four hours.” Her eyes were luminous in the too faint light.

  Penelope placed a bandage over Sharon’s neck. “The sutures are even and tight, but you’re still going to have a scar. He dug pretty deep.”

  Sharon’s eyelids fluttered. “I like morphine.”

  “Who doesn’t?” Penelope smoothed Sharon’s hair back from her face. “Before you go under completely, can you tell me what happened tonight?” She needed to get the full story, just in case Sharon didn’t make it. Penelope would do everything she could, but there was still a chance the vitamin B concoction wouldn’t work on Sharon. “Where did the Ripper come from?”

  Sharon’s eyes opened, her pupils dilated. “I’m not sure. I was in the main dining room, working at the table. Schedules for the kids the next week.” Her voice began to slur. “He came in the door and went for me. I didn’t recognize him.” She shuddered. “I fought back, but he bit my neck, and I fell. Barry heard us and rushed in from the kitchen, and when they started to fight, I ran outside for help. The guards…” She trailed off. “They were good men.”

  Good men who didn’t look like they’d been taken apart by a Ripper.

  Sharon subsided.

  “Want me to stay with her?” Lynne asked.

  Penelope reached for the restraints beneath the bed. “Yeah. I’ll be back within the hour to check on her but want to go see if we have more victims. I’ll take a kit with me.”

  It was going to be a long night.

  Marcus ran into the four-story apartment building behind his brother, watching as the soldiers fanned out. Blood splatter contrasted with the white walls in a dining room, the sight eerie. A thump came from above them. He turned and hustled toward a visible stairwell, running up, his bootsteps easy. At the top, he turned left while Jax turned right.

  Jax paused at the doorway to a room. “Two bodies,” he called out, moving down the hallway, which was still partially lit through floor to ceiling windows at each end. Soon it would be too dark to see.

  Marcus ducked his head, moving fast, trying to listen for anything.

  Nothing. The silence ticked around, heavy with dread. He stepped into what looked like a playroom with bean bag chairs and a ping pong table. A man was slumped over a table, and Mar
cus reached him, turning him over. A lump was already forming on the guy’s head, and a clear bite mark showed on his neck, with some of the flesh removed. He was unconscious but breathing.

  Marcus released him and then stepped back into the hallway, continuing down to the next door. The heavy boots of soldiers pounded up above on the upper two floors, where most of the apartments apparently were located. The opening and slamming of doors echoed throughout the building.

  A woman screamed and then went silent.

  He cleared several more rooms, reaching the end of the hallway. Nothing.

  A roar had him whirling around. At the far end, Jax grappled with a man equal in size, punching rapidly. The guy tackled Jax into the wall, and his head thunked hard.

  “Jax!” Marcus ducked his head and ran for his brother.

  Jax levered up and punched the guy in the face, doing a roundhouse kick and angling to the side. The Ripper stumbled back, blood dotting his bare chest and jeans. He lowered his head and roared, rushing forward with a barbaric tackle that picked Jax off the ground.

  They smashed into the window, which shattered with a loud crash. The momentum pushed them both out.

  Marcus dropped into a dive, punching the Ripper’s feet up and reaching for Jax’s boot. Both bodies flew out the window, dragging Marcus to the edge.

  He dug his fingers into Jax’s boot, scrambling to keep from going through the broken window himself. Jax’s body smacked face first against the building, and he emitted a pained oof.

  The Ripper screeched, sounding barely human as he fell. He hit the ground, rolled, and stumbled to his feet. How the hell was he even standing? He hitched forward, dropped to one knee, and then tried to move again. All of the soldiers who’d heard the scream were in the building, searching. The psycho had a clear path to run.

  Penelope was in the clinic with only two guards.

  “Damn,” Jax yelled, reaching for a gun in his other boot. He lifted his head, arched his back, and pointed to shoot. The bullet impacted the Ripper in the back of the head. The monster went down, face first on the asphalt, only feet away from one of the downed guards.

  Marcus grunted with the effort to keep ahold of his brother. “Would you hold still?” he snapped, his fingers sliding on the worn leather.

  Jax relaxed, facing the building again. He dropped his gun, planted his hands on the brick side, and kicked his other foot toward Marcus. “Stop complaining.” His voice was muffled like he had a cold. “This isn’t close to the worst mess we’ve gotten into during our lives.”

  “Jesus. How much do you weigh?” Marcus grabbed Jax’s other ankle and pulled himself to his knees, trying to gain leverage. His brother was all muscle—a lot of it. Grunting, Marcus fought to keep the dead weight from forcing his grip loose. “Let’s get you inside.”

  “Copy that,” Jax said, still muffled but not sounding nearly worried enough.

  Marcus shook his head. How could his brother trust him this much after everything? He didn’t even remember Jax. “Okay. Now.” On his knees, he released one of Jax’s ankles and reached down as far as he could to grasp jeans and pull.

  The angle was wrong. His hand slipped, and Jax swung wildly around, making it nearly impossible to hold on. “Fuck. Okay. New plan.” The muscles in Marcus’s shoulders and neck protested with sharp pains, and something popped in his back. “I’m going to swing you around. Tuck your arms in.”

  “What?” As Marcus began to swing, Jax tucked his arms in. “What the hell?”

  Marcus flipped his brother so he was facing out instead of in, his grip almost slipping on the ankle. He secured both ankles again and breathed out, the muscles bunching painfully in his arms. Whatever had popped in his back was now on fire. “I’m hoping you’re in decent shape, Jaxie.” Taking a deep breath, he edged slightly to the side, glass cutting into his knees. He held his breath and released one ankle. “Do a nice sit-up and grab my free hand, would you?” He leaned out as far as he was able, trying not to fall onto his face.

  Jax grunted and doubled up, slapping his hand against Marcus’s. His grip was strong, and Marcus tightened his hold, the veins popping out in his arm.

  “Good.” Marcus reached for the other hand, and when he had both, he fell back, dragging his brother across the glass and inside as fast as he could. Glass sprayed in every direction, and a small shard cut his arm.

  Jax landed by his side, panting, blood dripping from his nose. “You called me Jaxie.”

  Marcus frowned, on his back, his arms on fire. “Huh.”

  “That’s what you used to call me when you were young. Very.” Groaning, Jax rolled to the side and stood, holding out a hand. “Come on, Slam. Let’s clear the rest of the building.”

  Jaxie and Slam. They hadn’t been creative with the nicknames, had they? Marcus took his brother’s hand and stood, wobbling slightly and then regaining his balance. “I’m glad you didn’t fall.”

  “Me too. Thank you, brother.” Jax slapped him on the back.

  Pain exploded down Marcus’s side, but he ignored it. “All right. Let’s do this.”

  22

  Why, when we’re almost to a point of civilization, does the darkness rise again?

  —Doctor Penelope Kim, Journal

  Penelope kept her flashlight in one hand and her kit in the other as she walked with Byron out of the clinic.

  “I’d carry the kit for you, Doc, but I need my hands free,” Byron said, scouting the areas around them. At seventeen, he was the expert with their short wave radios and anything else he could build. He was also the father of Jill’s baby. “Thanks for reassuring Jill the other day. We were both scared it was the end of the little guy.”

  “Could be a girl,” Penelope said, wishing she could give him more reassurance.

  He angled between her and the oncoming street, his shoulders relaxing when nobody rushed them. “I’d love a little girl who looked just like Jill, but she swears it’s a boy, and I figure she’d know better than me.”

  They arrived at the Pure complex just as Marcus and Jax stepped out front, both bleeding from various cuts on their arms. They wore light jeans, dark shirts, and moved eerily similarly in the dusk. Penelope hustled toward them, her flashlight bobbing. Trying to be casual, she raked Marcus head to toe, satisfied that his only injuries were superficial. “What’s the status?”

  Jax wiped blood off his cheek. “Three dead outside, including the Ripper. Two dead inside, both adult males, and five newly infected. Those newly infected include two males and three females.” His tone remained distant, but emotion poured off the man. “All pregnant women and the kids were secured downstairs where the Ripper couldn’t get to them.”

  “Okay.” She thought through options. “I have enough beds in my clinic for the newly infected. Let’s get them there and secured.”

  Jax motioned for two soldiers who were just inside and gave the order before turning back to her. “You have enough B and morphine?”

  “Yes, and Lynne is already there, so we’re good to go.” It was going to be worse than a long night, and as the soldiers escorted the newly infected out of the building, even the men looked terrified. Penelope focused back on Jax. “How about injuries?” she asked.

  “Just us,” Marcus said, looking toward a lump on the street. “We need to identify that guy and make sure he’s one of the Rippers who escaped Harrington’s hospital.”

  “I didn’t know any of them,” she said.

  Jax rolled his shoulders, and glass pieces plunked onto his boots. “Did you get names?”

  “Yes. Greg Andez and Rachel Liab are still alive,” Penny said.

  Jax sighed. “I’ve met them. The Ripper was a man, so it wasn’t Rachel. I didn’t recognize him, but hold on for a second.” He reached for her flashlight and then jogged over to the prone figure, looking him over and studying his face. Jax leaned down and tugged the Ripper’s shirt to the side before straightening. Then he returned. “Isn’t Andez, and he has a Twenty tat. Was a member
of the gang before becoming a Ripper.”

  Penelope’s mouth gaped open. “There was a fourth Ripper inside territory?” None of this was making a lick of sense.

  Jax partially turned to see the two downed Pure guards. He walked over and turned one over. “Jesus.”

  Penelope followed him, secure with Marcus once again at her side. She looked down to see the cause of death and started. “Is that a bullet hole?”

  Jax turned the other guard over, and he also had a bullet hole in the center of his head.

  She bent down, peering at the wound. “No burn marks. Nobody heard a shot?” But there was something on his forehead. She leaned down closer and wiped a black goo away from the blood. “What in the world?”

  Jax crouched on one side of her while Marcus did the same on the other. Marcus reached out and rubbed the stuff on her finger, bringing her hand to his nose to sniff. “It’s oil.” He leaned around her to speak with Jax. “I can’t remember how I know this, but isn’t it possible to make a suppressor out of an oil filter?”

  “Yeah,” Jax said, his jaw working furiously. “We used to make them when I was in Twenty, and rumor has it you joined the gang after I left town. Sorry about that.”

  Marcus shrugged and then winced. “I don’t remember being in the Twenty gang, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “Why did you just wince?” Penelope asked, reaching for his arm.

  “Strained muscle. My brother weighs a freaking ton.” Marcus grasped her arm and lifted her to stand. “I’ll heal by morning—I always do.”

  Jax stood just as Raze and Greyson jogged up from the east.

  Marcus drew Penelope slightly behind him, and she let him. The night had been crazy so far, and even she was spooked.

  Grey looked down at the bodies. “We were out front with the main force and didn’t hear anything go down, or we would’ve provided backup. Damon and Quincy are back from Oregon with plans for a settlement, and they picked Sami and Tace up from the Bunker, along with good ole Zach Barter. We were helping them unload their truck. What the hell happened here?”