Winter Igniting (Scorpius Syndrome Book 5)

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Greyson kept walking through the thick smoke. “I said we’d talk about it later. Once I can figure out what to say.”

  Soot-covered soldiers scurried around, placing dirt in front of houses and stomping out any remaining embers.

  They reached the corner of the burned building. One wall of bricks, crumbling and blackened, still stood past the first story. In the middle, burning wood and other materials formed heated embers that a crew was trying to douse with dirt.

  Jax Mercury tossed a shovel to another guy and strode their way, soot covering his face and his shorter hair standing on end. “Damon. How you feeling?”

  “Good.” Damon coughed and then waited for his head to explode. The pain was nearly unbearable. “What do we have?”

  Quincy moved out from behind another stack of downed bricks and headed over. He untied the bandana from around his mouth and spit a couple of times. “It ain’t good, my friends.” He leaned over and coughed several times before straightening. Ashes covered his thick, black hair and even his eyelashes. He was as tall as Damon with startling green eyes. “I’ve found two rockets, several broken bottles from a secondary attack of Molotov cocktails, and two bombs.”

  “Bombs?” April gasped, her hand splayed across Damon’s abdomen.

  Quincy nodded. “Found the switches. Pretty rudimentary, but they did the job, no?”

  Damon’s lungs burned. How had these guys worked all night against this fire? “I don’t suppose there’s any way the bombs were just tossed in here like the rockets?”

  “Not a chance,” Quincy confirmed.

  Jax spit out ashes. “Let me get this straight. We have a coordinated attack that consisted of first two rockets, and then Molotov cocktails thrown from the other side of the fence? And, subsequently, two bombs were set to go off in the building and successfully did so?”

  Quincy coughed again and then nodded. “In a nutshell.”

  Wonderful. “Any sign of the perp?” Damon asked tersely. The gangs in the area liked to leave a calling card.

  “Yeah.” Jax pulled a purple bandana out of his back pocket. “We found several of these on the red truck outside the fence. They’re not trying to hide who they are. Twenty is stepping up their attacks, no doubt at the president’s behest.”

  No doubt. Damon’s head rang, but he could think clearly. “We need to strike back and fast. Let them know there are consequences.”

  Greyson kicked over a burning ember. “We also need to find the traitor inside the territory. Who set the bombs from inside? Somebody has to have seen something.”

  Damon winced. “Maybe. Everyone has been staying indoors as much as possible. It’d be easy to traverse inside the territory without being seen moving if somebody was already here inside.” He turned toward Quincy. “Would the materials used be hard to find or put together?”

  “No,” Quincy said. “We have several storage depots with explosives we’ve taken from construction sites. Anybody with even limited knowledge of explosives could’ve rigged these up.”

  Damon clicked through the facts. “But the bomber in the territory must’ve met with the Twenty gang outside at some point to coordinate. We’re looking at a scout or soldier.” Probably. Most likely, anyway.

  Jax nodded. “I guess we start interviewing our people. I’ll get Vinnie in on this. She’s working as our shrink, but she was an FBI profiler before Scorpius. She’s good, too.” The Vanguard leader looked like his head hurt as bad as Damon’s. The guy was definitely being stretched in several directions.

  “Jax.” Raze Shadow jogged up, wearing ripped and sooty clothing. “I patrolled outside, looking for anything off. This was secured to a post with a Twenty purple bandana.” He handed over a folded piece of paper.

  Jax unfolded the note to see Marcus Knight’s face on some sort of medical form. Jax’s face hardened.

  “What is it?” Damon leaned closer.

  “One sheet of a report from a Bunker where they experimented on Marcus,” Jax said, his gaze burning. “Says they broke his bones to see how quickly he would heal.”

  Smoke filled Damon’s nose, and he sneezed. Pain ricocheted through his brain like a buzz saw. His eyes pricked with more pain. He cleared his throat. “Why would the Twenty gang have that and want you to see it?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” Jax shoved the paper into his back pocket. “Nobody say anything to Marcus about this. I’ll talk to him when I have more information.” He studied Damon. “I want to hit back at Twenty tonight. Then tomorrow night, we’ll take the Bunker.”

  Damon nodded. “I’m ready.” If his head stayed on his neck.

  Greyson stepped between them before April could move. “You’re not on tonight, Winter. We’ll see how your head is tomorrow before deciding on the Bunker.”

  Damon wanted to argue, but as he was at present, he’d be a liability. “Fine, but let me look over the plan for all three houses. There are good exit strategies that we need to examine.”

  “No problem,” Jax said.

  April tugged Damon toward her. “Now, we’re going to get some real sleep,” she said, her voice chock-full of authority.

  Nobody argued with her.

  In fact, Jax grinned, and Greyson shuffled his feet. Quincy just nodded.

  Amusement overtook Damon, and he let her turn him toward her apartment. “You’re kind of bossy,” he murmured.

  “Get used to it,” she replied.

  Huh. Maybe he would.

  31

  Wait. Just…wait. I thought I’d seen crazy a few times. Nope. Not even close.

  ——April Snyder, Journal

  April finished taking care of the kids and returned to her apartment where Damon was still poring over a map with Jax and Greyson. Lines pinched the sides of his generous mouth, and his eyes were so bloodshot, they might as well be fully red. He was shaking his head, and the movement obviously hurt like hell.

  She cleared her throat. “It’s supper time. Shouldn’t you guys go eat something?”

  “Not until we agree on this,” Damon said, his voice a low growl. “Jax, you don’t have the forces right now to take all three of these houses, especially since we’re finishing fighting the fire, and everyone is exhausted. It’d be a mistake to go tonight, and I’m not going to let you do it.”

  Jax’s chin lowered, and he looked like a tiger about to strike. “You were on board earlier before you slept all day.”

  Damon turned toward him, his back a straight line. “I was on board before I saw the locations of these houses.” He poked his finger against a blue dot on the map. “This one sits directly in the scope of five, I said five, possible sniper positions. Do you think that’s an accident?”

  April looked over his shoulder at the map. How did he know that? Intriguing. And he needed to take an aspirin and go back to sleep. She could read the pain on his face.

  Jax sighed and leaned back. “I don’t want to hit the houses on different nights.”

  “I understand that, and I know you’re pissed,” Damon rasped. “But to coordinate a hit on these three particular houses, we need to practice the execution here several times before going. They’re prepared for a hit, I promise you. More so than I would’ve thought before I saw the locations.”

  April sidled closer. Damon was just so in control and commanding when it came to planning.

  Jax scrubbed both hands down his face. “You’re right, I know. But we have to move, and fast.”

  “The Reno Bunker is going to be easier to take than these houses,” Damon said quietly. “Or rather, it’ll take less preparation because we don’t know shit.”

  “The scouts should be back any minute with intel,” Jax said. “So we proceed slowly but with precision.” He looked Damon over. “Get some sleep, Winter. I promise I won’t go attack anybody tonight.” He stood and patted April on the shoulder. “I’ll debrief you later.”

  Debrief. She was working in a business where she’d be debriefed. “Sounds good.�
� She felt like James Bond.

  Greyson grinned, his eyes tired. “I’m going to check on Maureen, and I’ll talk to you two later. Get some sleep, Damon.” He followed Jax out the door.

  Damon rested his head back and groaned. “Never take a brick to the head.”

  “Words to live by.” She tugged him out of the chair and pushed him toward the bed. “You need more sleep. Doc Penelope said she’d drop by later tonight to look at your eyes or something.”

  He grasped her hand and pulled her toward the bed. “Snuggle with me.”

  It was too hot to snuggle, but she lay down next to him anyway. Within seconds, his breathing evened out against her neck.

  She pushed away and stood, looking down at him. He overwhelmed her bed in size and strength. In sleep, the pained lines on his face from earlier were smoothed out, leaving him hard and angled again. He’d taken a brick to the head, but then he’d used reason with a very angry Jax Mercury to prevent disaster.

  Smart and strong.

  She swallowed. She could be smart and strong, too. They were being attacked from all sides, including from the inside. The Pure church had to be figured out and dealt with so the bigger issues could be tackled.

  It was her job to infiltrate the Pure church and give Jax the answers he needed. Now wasn’t the time to wait. Damon had agreed earlier that she was capable of going on her own, although he probably had wanted to be alert during that time. Her instincts told her this wasn’t dangerous—not yet, anyway. Yeah, he’d be ticked she went. But it was time to get answers from that church.

  Settling the sheet over Damon, she quickly pinned her hair on top of her head and walked out into the still smoky air.

  Anybody outside braving the evening heat was on a mission either with shovels or more dirt. She greeted several people on her way to the southwest corner of Vanguard-Merc territory, but nobody questioned where she was going.

  Why would they?

  She reached the apartment building and smiled at the two soldiers guarding the door. Apparently, they’d been told to expect her because they moved aside immediately.

  Sharon met her inside, grabbing her hands. “What in the heck is happening out there?” Her eyes were wide. “We heard all the explosions, and a couple of our guards went to help with the fire. Do we know who attacked us?”

  April shook her head. “The Twenty gang with the purple colors attacked.”

  Sharon coughed. “I can’t believe it. I mean, why? Why are people attacking others when we’re all in so much danger anyway?”

  That was such a good question.

  “Come on. The study is upstairs.” Sharon turned and led her through the stacked blocks.

  April hesitated at seeing movement down Pastor King’s hall. A man stood at the door to the basement office and turned briefly to look at her.

  She blinked. Once, and then again. He was large with very short, brown hair. More importantly, she didn’t recognize him. She’d interviewed every member of the Pure, and she hadn’t met that man. “Who is that?” She started down the long hallway.

  Sharon grabbed her arm. “Just a Pure member. You met him the other day.”

  April pulled free. “No, I didn’t.” She continued down the hallway.

  The man faced her more fully, waiting until she reached him. “Evening.” His voice was a low baritone.

  “Hi.” The stairway door remained closed. “I’m April Snyder, and I thought I’d met every member of the Pure and Vanguard. You’re new to me.” Was he one of the Mercenaries she hadn’t seen yet? If so, why was he here?

  He held out a hand to shake. “Jerome. It’s nice to meet you.” His eyes warmed, and his touch was light.

  She was thrown, and she didn’t like it. “I interviewed everyone in the Pure. Why haven’t we met?” While she’d have to double-check, she was almost positive his name was not on the Vanguard list, either.

  He shrugged. “I’ve been busy and must’ve missed the interviews.” He leaned against the wall. “Would you like to spend time together now?”

  The way he said the words was beyond suggestive. Was he just flirting with her or covering his tracks? “Are you a Mercenary?” That’s the only thing that would make sense.

  “God, no. Hate violence.” He was clean-shaven, and a light scar ran right beneath his jaw. “The world is dangerous enough without joining a group who does nothing but attack and steal supplies.”

  That was an old rumor about the Mercs that had been mostly debunked. Sharon hovered near April, wringing her hands.

  Something smelled so wrong about this. Warning ticked down her spine.

  The door opened, and Pastor King stepped out. He jerked at seeing April and then quickly recovered. “April. I’m so glad you weren’t injured in the explosions.” He moved in and gave her a quick hug. Before she could react, he’d already stepped back. “I thought you were having bible study upstairs?”

  April met his gaze evenly. “We were headed that way when I saw Jerome here. Oddly enough, his name wasn’t included on the list Sharon gave me of your members. Nor have I ever seen him.”

  King smiled, the expression not lightening his eyes a bit. “The omission was inadvertent, I assure you. Jerome is often repairing the building and out of sight.”

  “You’re a contractor?” April asked, not buying a word of this.

  Jerome smiled again. “Of sorts.” He eyed her thin dress. “I really would like to sit and chat with you. I’m sorry I wasn’t available when you were here the other day.”

  While he was definitely good-looking, there was just something too suggestive about the guy. “Who did your intake interview?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “It was five months ago, and I don’t remember the guy’s name. Those of us uninfected kind of separated ourselves naturally.” He rubbed his buzz-cut hair. “Although I would’ve been more visible had I known you were looking. You’re pure, right?”

  “I haven’t been infected,” she said, her instincts humming.

  King reopened his door. “If you’ll excuse us, we have work to do.”

  Jerome winked at her. “We can set up a time for our interview if you like.” Then he turned and followed King down the stairs, shutting the door behind himself.

  April had no choice but to turn with Sharon. It wasn’t as if she could just barge in and make him talk to her. “It’s so weird that I’ve never seen that guy. How many other people here are hidden?” She made her way back down the hallway.

  Sharon snorted. “Nobody. That was just a fluke. We forgot his name on the list, and he really is usually somewhere in the facility trying to keep us safe.” She kept her head down and walked quickly.

  Right. That made a whole lot of sense. Not. But April followed Sharon through the dining area to the stairs, her mind spinning the entire time. They reached the rec room for the older kids, and women sat around, some with bibles and some with what looked like glasses of wine.

  The pregnant women drank red punch.

  Where in the heck had they gotten the punch? April accepted a glass of wine and took a seat on a blue beanbag, watching carefully.

  The mood was jovial as they chatted amongst themselves.

  A four-month-pregnant woman named Sheila plunked down next to April in a pink chair. “It’s good to see you back here. Decided to move in yet?”

  April turned and smiled. While she couldn’t exactly say that the outside world was safe, since she hadn’t contracted Scorpius from any surface, she was starting to believe that it was no longer possible. “I’m still mulling it over. How are you feeling?”

  Sheila was a redhead from Santa Clara if April remembered right. She was young. Maybe nineteen. Her green eyes sparkled. “Wonderful. I think I felt the baby move earlier today. We’re going to repopulate the country and do it with good genes.”

  April stiffened and then tried to act casual. “Well, good genes would be a definite plus.”

  Sheila nodded. “I know, right? I think the plan is a smart one. P
astor King knows what he’s doing.”

  “Oh, he does.” April smoothed her skirt down her legs, searching for the right opening with the girl. She wasn’t nearly as guarded as many of the other women. “He has been so open about everything, it’s hard not to like him. The man is brilliant.”

  Sheila sipped her punch. “I didn’t know he’d shared with you.”

  “Why not?” April took a drink of her wine. The crisp Chardonnay cooled her throat. “He wants me to join the Pure, so he’s been very open. I just have to decide what I want.”

  Sheila nodded. The girl was sweet but a little simple. April hated to use that, but what choice did she have? “I wanted to be tier three, but I understand starting with the fifth tier. We have to keep the lines straight.”

  Lines? What lines? “I don’t know,” April whispered. “Do you think it’s that important? Really?”

  “Yes.” Sheila’s eyes widened. “Just think if two same-tiered ones ended up together in the future. They’d be brother and sister.”

  Oh, crap. This was starting to make sense. Pastor King had a genetic plan to repopulate the Earth. Like cattle? She remembered something about bovine breeding diagrams from ninth-grade biology class. “He mentioned I might be tier one, but he didn’t give me my options,” she said quietly.

  Sheila’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’d choose him. If you’re in that tier, why not?”

  Yeah. That’s what April had figured. She set her glass of wine aside and stood. “Excuse me.”

  “The bathrooms are outside the left corner and are fully shielded and protected by a brick wall,” Sheila said helpfully, and definitely loud enough to be heard by anybody wondering where April was going.

  Wonderful. April walked out of the room and jogged down the stairs, hustling down the hallway to the basement. She gingerly opened the door and listened. No sounds. The men weren’t down there any longer. Holding her breath, she tiptoed down and stopped cold at seeing Pastor King in his leather chair, facing her.

  He tilted his head. “You wanted something, April?”

  She looked around. “Where did your buddy, Jerome, go?”