Mabe (Earth Resistance Book 5)

by Theresa Beachman

  Riley was curled up at her mother’s feet, her head resting in Diana’s lap. She hadn’t spoken since they’d bolted back underground. Shock, perhaps. It made Sarah’s blood heat. That this was how Riley was spending her childhood. She should be laughing with her friends, dreaming about boys and worrying about exams, not scared shitless, wondering when the aliens would dig through the ceiling.

  Diana’s face was blank as she stared into space, stroking the top of her daughter’s head. She didn’t seem to register Artem pacing the rear of the room, his face warped in a wretched scowl or Mabe and Sawyer reviewing the building blueprints for the past few hours, searching for a solution. An escape. Sarah had studied the plans on countless nights before. Unless they dug an alternative escape route, their options were zero.

  Zoe limped into the room with a handful of mugs and a coffee pot that she set down on the counter. She took her time pouring perfectly equal cups of dark liquid, but her hand shook, and the coffee splashed. When she met Sarah’s gaze, her eyes were too bright and she swallowed hard.

  Diana lifted Riley’s sleep fuzzed head from her lap and crossed the room, smoothing wrinkles from the front of her pants, pushing back her shoulders. All business, even now, with imminent death threatening.

  At Sarah’s workstation she clicked the mouse, bringing up the shot of the parking lot heaving with Scutters. She looked straight at Sarah and something primal stirred in her gaze. “Perhaps this is an opportunity.”

  “Opportunity?” Foster looked over from the disassembled gun parts he was cleaning.

  Mabe raised his head, a question on his craggy face. “Yeah, what do you mean opportunity?”

  “Exactly that. Circumstances that make it possible to do something. Look it up in the dictionary.” Diana’s eyes gleamed with an idea. “What do you think, Sarah?”

  Eyes in the room turned to her and the loose fear in Sarah’s gut solidified into something much worse. “No.”

  “We have the manpower now, for the first time. It’s possible.”

  Mabe frowned, his glance searching between Sarah and Diana. “What are you talking about?”

  Foster scrubbed at the remnants of his eyebrow. “That’s what I’d like to know.”

  Sarah ignored the determined flint in Diana’s gaze. “It would be suicide. No.”

  “So we’re just going to sit here and wait until we die?” Artem crossed the room, unfolding his arms into fisted ramrods at his side.

  “I didn’t say that—”

  “Well, you’re not coming up with any other solutions.” Jacob eyed her from the shadows near the door.

  Fuck you. The words hovered on her lips.

  Diana leaned down, gripping an armrest in each hand, her nose only inches from Sarah’s. “You have something that could help, and you won’t share it? These are the men you wanted to help.” She flung a dramatic arm in Mabe’s direction.

  Sarah pushed Diana’s arms away and lunged out of her chair, the air in the room chilling around her. She hugged her waist, searching for words, avoiding Mabe’s concerned gaze. “I can’t. I can’t be responsible again.”

  Diana straightened, dropped her hands to her hips, not letting go. “It’s not that simple.” She was like a gnarly dog with a bone.

  “This is a bad idea.” Sarah retreated, colliding with a sharp table edge. There was nowhere to go. Diana had her cornered. “It’s not ready.”

  Diana’s laugh was hollow. “It’ll never be perfect, but it’s as close as we’ve ever been, and right now we’re sitting ducks waiting to die.” The worn down leader was gone, and for an instant the scientist she’d been before the invasion had toughened all her edges and left her splintery and harsh, surfaced.

  “Everyone died last time we had a plan.” Sarah kept her voice even, suppressing the overwhelming urge to curl into a ball and hide. “Everyone.” Her breathing was rapid, the edges of the room fuzzing as she struggled to get enough air. “I can’t do that again.”

  “Maybe you don’t get to choose.” Artem’s voice was blunt.

  “Okay. Enough. What are we talking about?” Mabe’s question cut loud and clear through the room.

  Diana jerked her head in Sarah’s direction. “We may have something we can use against the Chittrix. But it requires manpower, something we’ve never had until now.”

  “No, Diana.” Sarah slid sideways, her fingers feeling along the edge of the workbench so she didn’t fall over. Escape through the door loomed far away. Mabe had crossed the room. Only a whisper of air separated them. She would not look at him. If she did, she would come apart.

  “It needs an army. Lots of men. Soldiers. Weapons.” She shook her head, more determined this time. “I won’t be responsible for any more deaths.”

  She grabbed the door handle. Escape beckoned. She yanked the door open, almost crying out in relief when cool air hit her in the face. Death might be certain, but she wouldn’t be responsible. Not again.

  16

  Mabe headed down the narrow corridor, tracking the echo of Sarah’s steps back to the lab where they’d spoken last night.

  Conflict surged through him. Part of him wanted nothing to do with these people and whatever fucked up plan they were alluding to, but they were running out of choices, and he had every intention of leaving this fucking building alive, and deep down, where he struggled to admit it even to himself, preferably with Sarah.

  He halted, glanced left and right, checking the corridors. Nothing and no one. He was alone.

  The door protested as he pushed it open, preternaturally loud in the silence. Antiseptic air filled his lungs, triggering familiar memories. Being in the surgery first thing in the morning, fussing over overnight residents with his coffee before the veterinary nurses arrived to open up and begin the morning feeding rounds. Mabe clamped his jaw. Those things were gone.

  He rubbed his gun barrel between damp palms, grounding himself in the here and now. Sarah needed him and whatever she was keeping from him, he needed to understand it. And fast.

  She was on the far side of the lab, a pencil in one hand, staring at a dead monitor. When she turned to face him, she scrubbed at her eyes. She didn’t appear surprised to see him. She sniffed and straightened her back.

  He drew level with the desk, resting his hips against the wooden edge. “I’m confused.”

  She looked up at him sharply, her eyes luminous.

  “Because, outside, it was…” The word eluded him. He was out of practice, awkward at conversation involving subtlety of meaning. Everything in the last few months boiled down to the essence of live or die. “—different.” Outside, against the Chittrix, she’d been a warrior. In here, now? It was like someone had switched the light off. What had done that to her? “You didn’t doubt yourself outside with the Chittrix. But just now, with Diana, I only saw doubt.”

  She rolled her shoulders back and exhaled. “Diana has unrealistic expectations. She thinks we can engage with the Chittrix and win.”

  He smiled. “She’s damn prickly, but she’s right. We can.” He picked up a pencil and then put it back down, unsure of what to do with it. “Not every time, but they’re not invincible.”

  She took a deep breath. “Neither are we.”

  “No,” he conceded.

  She chewed on her bottom lip, her face awash with anxiety, and the strongest urge to kiss the worry from her mouth swept through him.

  “But I’m not sure we have many other choices right now.” He held her gaze, his tone matter of fact. Her eyes were wide, like a frightened gazelle, her pulse tripping at the base of her throat. Whatever Diana was referring to, it freaked her out.

  She shuddered, her head lowering in defeat. “Eventually they’ll take us down.”

  “At least tell me what this is all about and let us make our own decision.”

  She rolled a pencil between her fingers, her hands twisting with a nervous motion, her nails bitten and chewed. What would it feel like to cover her sore hands with his, to raise them
to his lips and kiss the ragged flesh?

  She tapped the pencil on the bench. When she looked up at him, her eyes were serious as if evaluating if she could trust him with what she had to say. “When I can’t sleep, I read. Lately that’s been a lot.”

  Mabe folded his arms, listening. He had all the time in the world.

  “Six months ago, I came across a paper in our archives. We had a digital system linking us with labs across the globe, sharing information in the brief period when we fought back.” She stopped for a moment, as if remembering. “Anyway, the paper hadn’t been published, it was written just before the invasion. The author had been working on an engineered scorpion virus as a treatment for locusts decimating crops in Africa.”

  He scrubbed his chin. “I’m sure that was one of the viral options considered by world governments.”

  “You’ve heard of it?”

  “Um, yes.” He picked up the pencil again, unsure what he should be doing with his hands. He hadn’t spoken alone to a woman for any sustained period since forever. His social skills were rusty, but right now he didn’t care. It was enough to be here in the room with her.

  Mabe waited. “Viruses are far from my expertise, but I’m listening.”

  She opened her mouth to reply, but a soft knock came from the door. Foster stuck his head through the gap. “Sorry. My nose was bothering me. Everything all right?”

  “Yeah.” Mabe beckoned for Foster to join them. He leaned sideways, checking behind Foster, relieved to see he was alone. Whatever Sarah had to say, it was more likely she would talk if Diana wasn’t around pressurizing her. “Shut the door behind you.”

  Foster pulled out a chair, spun it around and straddled it.

  “Foster’s a good listener too. Go on.”

  Sarah glanced from Foster and back to Mabe and gave a tiny nod. “Chittrix DNA is like nothing on earth, although when broken down, they share the most similarities with ants. They’re impervious to earth viruses and bacteria. Their immune system functions completely differently to ours, and I’m only just beginning to understand it. But the one thing that’s clear is its strength. Their bodies are super-efficient. Their cells show no sign of degradation or aging, in any of the samples I’ve taken.”

  Her hair had come loose, a golden halo around her head as she spoke, her hand gestures becoming more expansive as she lost herself in the subject which enthused and inspired her. “And that’s when I realized.”

  “Realized what?” Foster’s skull was a dull gleam in the dim light.

  “What if their strength was also their greatest weakness?”

  Foster shook his head, his brow furrowing, and he shot a questioning glance at Mabe. “You’re losing me with all the science double speak.”

  Mabe lifted a finger in a shushing gesture. “Let’s hear her out.”

  “Their DNA is so refined, honed to its purpose, it got me thinking. What if I took some of that DNA and used it to give that strength to something else?”

  “You combined Chittrix DNA with the scorpion virus?” Holy shit.

  “Scorpion virus?” Foster looked perplexed.

  Sarah faced Foster. “The scorpion virus kills organisms by instructing the host’s body to make an enzyme called chitinase. Chitinase breaks down chitin, turns it to liquid.”

  Foster’s eyebrows were raised. “And chitin is—?”

  “The exoskeletons of Earth insects are made from chitin.” Her chin lifted. “Chittrix exoskeletons are also made of chitin. For an insect infected with the scorpion virus that means the body will disintegrate, it will liquefy. It’s also the mode of transmission. The liquid is laden with virus which infects new insects when they touch it.”

  Foster recoiled in his chair. “Lovely.”

  Mabe scratched his chin. “That can’t be the entire story.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not. The scorpion virus only targets a few limited species, and I needed something more encompassing. So, I looked further afield. Wolbachia is an insect virus, the most common reproductive arthropod parasite in our planet’s biosphere. With Diana’s help, I created a new descendant blending the scorpion genes with Wolbachia and Chittrix DNA.”

  “Fuck,” Mabe breathed. What she was suggesting was insane.

  “The new viral strain has a boosted reproduction rate. It’s a genetic super strain.” She drew a breath. “And so far it’s impervious to anything I’ve thrown at it in the lab.”

  Foster raised a finger. “What about earth insects?”

  She was lost in it now. Despite her earlier reluctance, her eyes were bright, her hand gestures quick like tiny birds as she worked to make them understand the import of what she’d created. “Including Chittrix DNA has allowed me to target Chittrix genetic code only. So far, the new engineered strain doesn’t kill earth insects.”

  “And it’s safe for humans because we have no chitin in our biological make up?” Mabe clarified.

  “Yes.” Her eyes were bright as she confirmed his question. “Right now? It’s lethal. There’s nothing in the lab that can kill it, and the reproduction rate is three hundred percent faster. It’s unstoppable.”

  Foster swore softly, and a silence hung heavy in the room as the meaning and implications of her words sank in. “You’re talking about a super virus imbued with the strength of a Chittrix that may be able to kill a Chittrix.”

  “Yes. But—”

  “There’s always a catch,” Foster muttered under his breath.

  “In situ, in the host—Chittrix samples I’ve exposed it to—it’s unstoppable, terminating the cells outright, but it degrades rapidly under UV light. I’m hopeful it will work within the darkness of the hives, but to get it there we need a Chittrix carrier, a Trojan horse. We can’t just release it into the air.” Shadows still circled under her eyes as she spoke, visible through the delicate skin.

  When was the last time she’d had a good night’s sleep? Mabe wanted to cup her cheek, to smooth her worried expression and tell her everything would be okay. Fuck, he wanted that so bad.

  Her lips were pinched and bloodless. “The fact that we can’t just release it scares the hell out of me. When Diana brought it up—” She cradled her head in her hands. “So many have already died. I can’t be responsible for something like that again.”

  “Sarah, what is it?” Mabe took her hand, smoothing his thumb across the smooth skin.

  “Because of the degradation, the virus needs to be given intravenously to start the chain of infection.”

  Foster blinked. “You mean we have to inject the fuckers?”

  Mabe scrubbed a hand across his face. He knew what he was going to say, no matter what her reply was. Because he would only sleep easy if he helped her, eased the weight she carried across her shoulders. And deep down a spark had ignited within him, fueling the flames of revenge. For Lissy and Rachel.

  Her bones were fragile and birdlike in his grip. “Sarah, tell us what you need us to do.”

  17

  “I’m still not sure about this.” Sarah’s hands were restless knots as she walked back up the corridor between Mabe and Foster. Mabe hadn’t been freaked out by what she’d suggested and so hope had sprung up that there was a way forward, a way that wouldn’t involve people dying. Or maybe she was just deluding herself.

  At the door, Mabe stalled, his fingertips resting on the wood. “We’ll work this out. Somehow.”

  Foster cleared his throat from behind. “And if not, guns are good too.”

  Mabe rolled his eyes and pushed the door open.

  Crossing the threshold, her heart raced, but she took comfort in Mabe’s presence. The fear she’d felt when she first saw him was gone, replaced by something else. An increasing sense of security and trust. Something about his calm tone and gentle eyes soothed her. Her gaze drifted up his body as he led the way into the room, his bare arms cut with hard ropes of muscle. He turned suddenly, his burnished gaze catching hers, searing something deep inside her.

  Marking her.<
br />
  She lifted her chin and glanced away, her heart rate accelerating from something other than fear.

  Where was Diana?

  She was on the far side of the room. At their entrance she shifted her attention from the monitor she was studying, her eyes glinting blue-gray, her voice laced with razor wire. “Dr. North.”

  Unseen, Mabe’s hand slid around Sarah’s, his thumb fitting perfectly into the curve of her palm for a few exquisite seconds.

  Sarah straightened, drawing strength from his brief touch. She matched Diana’s stare. “Diana.” God, this was hard. “My doubts aren’t unreasonable.”

  Diana shook her head as if bothered by a petulant child. “Your doubts are all the more unreasonable because of everything that’s happened.”

  Mabe coughed. “Sarah came back to discuss. Let’s just hear this out and see if we can solve this situation. The enemy’s outside, remember?”

  Diana’s lips thinned, but she remained silent and bobbed her head.

  Sarah turned away from her to face the rest of her team. Artem and Jacob were seated at one of the computer workstations. Zoe hobbled between chairs, rubbing her arms, her expression tight but hopeful.

  “We have a virus that might be effective against the Chittrix. But it’s a big might,” Sarah said.

  Zoe’s mouth popped open in surprise. “What?”

  Jacob shot a glance at Diana. “This is news.”

  Artem shook his head, his dark eyes full of doubt. “Just like you, keeping secrets.” Ink creased across his forehead in a slow, frowning dance. “But Diana knew?”

  “I provided the genetic sequencing, yes.” Diana matched Artem’s stare. “It’s only been during the last few weeks that we’ve stabilized the strain and achieved accurate reproduction of the virus. Until that point, everything has been hypothetical.”

  “I’m assuming from the look on your face it’s not a simple infect them, kill them scenario?” Zoe asked.