She lifted her head. The Chittrix were mere smudges to the south. “We need to follow them.”
“What?” Mabe’s brow creased in confusion. “Why the hell would we want to do that?”
“Because I need to see if the infection will transmit to the rest of the community.”
He opened his mouth as if to answer, but Sarah didn’t wait to hear what he had to say. She headed to where Foster was holding Riley. He rocked her against him, her sobs slowing to a muted hiccup. Sarah dropped to her knees, touching his arm. “Foster?”
He looked up, his tough features streaked with tears. Riley’s or his own, Sarah couldn’t tell.
“She’s not injured?”
He bumped his chin against the top of Riley’s head. “I don’t think so.” He touched her wrist. The damaged tracker. The screen kept blipping on and off. “You should go. Before you lose them.”
“I know.” She stood up, forcing the column of her spine to lock. The infected Chittrix was heading south, home to the hive.
Mabe was at her shoulder, his mouth set in a firm line. “Wherever you’re going, I’m coming too.”
By the time the golden curve of the Cardiff hive materialized on the horizon, the air hummed and buzzed with the energy of activity.
Chittrix activity.
Sarah lay flat, ignoring the thorny weeds and sharp stones, studying the hive through her binoculars. Mabe had accompanied her with Sawyer. She’d wanted to come alone, believing it simpler, but they’d flat-out refused. But now that they were here, she was glad. There was comfort in their presence, especially Mabe’s.
He brought up his field glasses to get a proper look and sighed. “Sarah?”
“The tracker signal is weaker. I’m guessing it’s in the hive and the walls are blocking the signal.”
“Seems too easy.”
She didn’t answer, but she agreed. Her eyes stung with lack of sleep, her stomach roiled. If something was going to go wrong, now was the time.
Sawyer rubbed the nape of his neck. “What do we do now?”
Sarah lifted her binoculars, her throat tight as she struggled to come up with an answer. “There’s a commotion going on.” Chittrix swarmed from the entrance to the hive, their bodies cascading out in a flurry of action. “Something’s upset them.” She adjusted the zoom, biting her lip as the main entrance swam into focus.
“Ants will remove sick members from the hive.” Mabe’s tone was matter of fact.
She dug her elbows into the ground, attempting to still her shaking hands as she squinted through her lenses. He was right. “I see them.”
Chittrix spilled out onto the worn ground, stretching their wings in an agitated rhythm. Scutters thronged at their feet, rushing over each other in a black river, pincers snapping at the sunlight. Even from this distance she imagined the click of their claws, the bristle and snap of their barbed feet…
Tension clogged her throat as she checked the glitching screen on her wrist. The infected Chittrix registered as being within the hive. Just. “I think it’s still in there but—”
Mabe touched her hand. “Sarah, you need to see this.”
She looked again, the world blurry as she found the hive once more. Chittrix parted like a wave and into the space a lone Chittrix staggered. Its head was wounded, leaking glistening fluid that soaked into the sun parched earth.
“Is that our baby?” Flint edged Sawyer’s voice.
Her wrist tracker flashed from red to green as the Chittrix stumbled beyond the boundary of the hive. It was out. Dammit. “Yes.”
She rechecked the hive. Horror curdled in her gut as workers lunged at the injured Chittrix, slashing with their curved claws, gouging and biting its sides in a vicious tribal dance. She dropped the glasses and wiped her forehead before meeting Mabe’s grim stare. “They’re driving it from the hive.”
“How can they tell?” Tension reverberated through Sawyer’s gruff voice. “Can they smell us on it or something?”
Mabe squeezed the skin on the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Ants can tell if a hive member is infected, they’ll remove it and kill it.”
“They can tell it’s sick?” Sawyer asked, his eyes wide.
Sarah looked again. “Hell.”
The Chittrix was on its knees now. Its body was slick from multiple wounds, but worse than that, its body was coming apart at the seams, plates of exoskeleton sliding to the ground in an oily splash, rendering its body from defined form to liquid. Hive members backed off as the virus finished the execution, dissolving remaining organs. Froth exuded from gaping joints, dripping to the ground in smoky annihilation. High-pitched screams carried on the still day. Sarah dropped her binoculars. “I’ve seen enough”
She rocked back on her heels. This had been their best shot. She’d been so focused on amping up the virus with Chittrix DNA, she hadn’t even considered the Chittrix might sense her interference and remove the source of an infection before it could harm the hive. She slumped against a rock, her heart thudding dully in her chest.
“Is that it then? We just give up?”
She shook her head at Sawyer’s question. “It’s not about giving up. If they can sense the virus, we can’t infect them.” She pulled at her ponytail and scratched at her scalp with dirty fingernails. None of this was ever going to end. The living like rats underground. Existing in the filth, no food, no life. It would continue interminably until the Chittrix had systematically eliminated every last human from the planet. Needling pain stabbed into her skin and bones, leaving her numb.
She swayed onto her feet, unable to meet their gaze. “I’m sorry. I honestly thought this would work. I just—” She took a few uncertain paces. Where would she even go? “I’m out of ideas right now. This has been months in the making and I’ve got nothing left.” She waved a hand, her words sticking in her throat. All of it had been for nothing.
She kept her back to them. Including Mabe. If she looked at him, the kindness in his gaze would tear her apart.
Sweet God.
His voice was gentle. “Maybe—”
She rounded on him, swallowing hard, hating the tremble in her voice. “There is no maybe. This is it.” She made a slicing motion with her hands. “I have nothing left. I’ve lived like a rat underground for the past year and a half to make this work. Holding on because I thought I might come up with something that would help and instead…”
Words were not enough. She stalked away from him tugging her hands through her hair. “All of this has been for nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.” He followed her. Dogged. “You tried something. It didn’t work—”
“That’s just it, isn’t it? It’s no use if it doesn’t work. We don’t have forever.”
She waved her hands at the scene of carnage far away in the distance. She tapped her chest. “I have made no difference at all.” Her eyes burned, and she swiped at them. Damn it, she would not cry again. “I should have known because like always, the Chittrix will keep on killing us.” She fisted her hands. “I was a fool then, and I’m still a fool.”
“No. You’re not.” He reached out to touch her. “Let’s get you back to Carven to collect your things...”
She swatted his hand away. “I can get back fine on my own.”
He regarded her steadily. “I know that.”
“We managed just fine before you all arrived.” She glared at him.
A tiny muscular flinch pulsed from his shoulder to the powerful line of his jaw, and she instantly regretted her words. None of this was his fault.
The failure was hers and hers alone.
29
The noise of the hive rose around Sarah, drilling into her bones, a deep resonant hum that had worked through the molecules of her life and ripped everything apart.
She walked away from Mabe as fast as she could but a firm hand gripped her by the elbow, thick fingers digging into the soft flesh of her forearm, bringing her to an abrupt halt. She snatched her arm free of
Mabe’s grasp.
He looked down at her, a quiet fire in his gaze. “You can all come back with us to Brackla. You, Jacob, Artem, Zoe and Riley.”
“I don’t think so.”
Mabe dragged in a ragged breath, and she instantly regretted her harsh words, but she couldn’t take them back.
The skin between his eyes tightened, and she fought the urge to reach up and smooth the hurt away. She stared at the ground and kicked dirt. If she looked him in the eye would she crumble? Already her resolve had been tested, and she’d weakened, thinking there was room for more in her life when there wasn’t. The only thing there was room for was the war. “Take the med supplies I gave you and go.”
“What?” He shook his head as if dislodging an irritation from his ear.
“Take the med supplies. I put them in the Coyote last night.”
He took hold of her hand. “Sarah. I’m not leaving without you.”
She looked at him, packing her stare with ice. Doing so was the only way he would let her go. She’d allowed it to go too far already. She shook her head. Even though she told herself she was being cruel to be kind, this was hellish. “There’s nothing here for you, Mabe.”
He stilled, so impossibly still. Just looking at him cleaved her heart in two.
“Sarah—”
“I know.” She raked her hair with her fingers, enjoying the sharp pull of pain against her scalp. “We were just kidding ourselves. Thinking there could be more than this.” She gestured at the derelict landscape that surrounded them. The broken buildings, the overgrown road, the empty windows, alien plants choking every last inch of native life. “There’s nothing left but the fight.”
He slid two fingers under the line of her jaw, tilting her head up so she was forced to look him in the eye. Was it her imagination or did the light in his eyes gleam less? Had she tarnished him with her cruelty? The idea left a sour taste in her mouth.
“There’s no Happy Ever After, Mabe.” She broke free of his hold and retreated, willing her knees not to give way and for her heart to remain within the confines of her ribcage. White noise from her blood roared a protest in her ears. What was she doing?
Keeping myself safe. Keeping him safe.
“This is all there is. War and bloodshed. Don’t you see that?” She pointed at the fucked up world around them. “Whatever there might have been between us, it can’t happen.” Her chest heaved. She couldn’t afford to care for anyone. Everyone you cared for was ripped away. Good people died for no reason. “I should have known better.” She stabbed a finger north toward Carven. “I was wrong before. I thought I knew better, but I didn’t and so many people died. I owe it to them not to let that happen again. To keep working.” Her voice dropped. “I owe it to you.” She blinked, gathering herself. “Goodbye, Mabe.”
She turned, but he was in front of her again. How did a man so big move so fast?
Stormy turbulence multiplied within her. She wanted to scream at him. Stop making this so difficult.
“I don’t believe you. I don’t believe this is what you want.”
She stiffened. “It’s not about what either of us want. It’s about what we have to do.”
“I get that you’re scared. But this doesn’t make sense. The plan didn’t work out, there’s always a chance that will happen. But you’ll recover. Next time we’ll hit them harder.”
“No. I can’t.”
His gaze was pleading, wearing against her resolve. “Sarah, this is crazy.”
She laughed, hysteria pressing against her brittle boundaries. “Crazy? Which part? I let myself hope for more. That’s what’s crazy. I can’t take that chance again. It has too many consequences.”
“Like what?”
“Feeling responsible for you. For anyone. Because when I do, it tears me apart, and it takes me away from the fight. What happened in the bone yard, I was responsible then. It nearly killed me and I don’t mean the scars left on my body.”
“Sarah, in the first days of the invasion no one knew—”
The skin around her mouth hardened. “That doesn’t change what happened.”
“It does. Be reasonable. You can’t hold yourself accountable for people killed by the Chittrix.”
His kindness cut deep within her, but she stared at him, her gaze unwavering. She would not show him how much he meant to her because if she did, he would never leave her and that wasn’t a solution. Love. Relationships. None of it could exist anymore.
“We’re done Mabe. It won’t work. Not now, not in the future.” Torn landscape surrounded them. “Look. It’s just a matter of time before we’re all dead. I can’t do this. I can’t care anymore and I can’t be responsible for your death.”
“Sarah—”
Pain ripped through her, but she kept walking. She was just being realistic. Happy Ever After’s were dead, the Chittrix had seen to that.
30
At Carven House, the sky was losing its luster. The moon was low on the horizon, fat and yellow against blue-black rain clouds.
Mabe swung into the driver’s seat and secured his seatbelt. “I’d rather drive if that’s okay with you.” If he drove, he wouldn’t be able to think about what an epic mess he’d made of things. The distraction would help him get home.
Sawyer shot him a questioning glance as he secured the Sweeper to the internal roof. “Sure. Foster’s staying to make sure the girl is okay.”
Mabe swung in his seat. “Riley?”
Sawyer nodded. “Something about her has shaken him up.” He shrugged. “You know him. Getting him to talk about anything other than bombs is virtually impossible.”
Foster stuck his head in the cab as if on cue. “You ladies heading home?” He slammed the side of the vehicle. “I’ll follow. I think Riley might come back to Brackla, but she needs some time.” His gaze cooled. “All her mum’s things are still here.”
Sawyer exchanged a glance with Mabe. “Jacob and Artem are here. They could bring her. Or Zoe. It’s over a day’s walk on foot back to Brackla.”
“I know. Still staying.”
Sawyer shook his head. “Your leg hasn’t healed properly.”
Foster rolled his eyes. “Sawyer, if I need you to be my fucking mother, I’ll ask you.” He slammed the door shut and jabbed a finger at the two men through the window. “Stay safe, ladies, I won’t be there to watch your backs.” Then he blew a kiss and turned on his heel.
Mabe hit the ignition, and the engine roared to life.
The first few hours were uneventful, apart from the incessant rocking over twisted sections of road and dodging potholes large enough to lose a man in. Rain smeared the windscreen, blurring out the fucked up world outside and for that Mabe was grateful.
Motion sickness reared its head for the first time in his adult life, and he drove with gritted teeth. Normally he would have enjoyed the trip, the quiet intensity. But this journey gnawed at the edges of his sanity.
He flexed his stiff fingers on the steering wheel. He didn’t allow himself to think or feel. His attention was fully on keeping the Coyote on the road. Getting them home alive. He wasn’t thinking about Sarah.
Nope.
Finally, Sawyer heaved a sigh. “What happened with Sarah?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I see.” Sawyer lifted one athletic leg and wedged it up against the dash. “They need to make these damn things bigger. I’m sure when they built them, they designed them for soldiers who were five foot two.” He shifted again, struggling to get comfortable. “Can’t wait to get back to see Julia.” He flicked an imaginary fleck of dust off the patched knee of his cargo pants.
Mabe glanced over and immediately wished he hadn’t.
Sawyer stared right back, an enormous grin cracking his face. Mabe whipped his attention back to the windshield. Bushes, wild and luxuriant with wild roses and alien vines shot past at a pace. Fuck. “She doesn’t want me.”
“Didn’t look like it to me.”
> Mabe checked the side mirror. The sky was still clear of Chittrix. “Well, she changed her mind.”
“And that’s it?”
“What do you mean and that’s it?” Mabe swung around to glare at Sawyer, taking his eyes off the road. The Coyote jolted, and he yanked the wheel. Fucking fuck.
Sawyer cocked an eyebrow and grabbed the dash. “Keep your eyes on the road.” He chuckled. “I’m not walking home.”
Mabe swerved back onto the half-demolished concrete. Sawyer studied his nails. “Are you going to give up on her that easily?”
Mabe shook his head. Dismissive. “She made it quite clear she has no time for a relationship or any variation, and she’s right. Neither do I. We need to focus on the war. The bigger picture. Getting involved makes it harder to fight because you’re worried about losing—” He scrubbed a hand across his face, thinking about Julia waiting for Sawyer back at the base. “Sorry, I have a damn big mouth.”
Sawyer peered out the window. “I used to think a lot like you.”
“Like me?”
A crack of knuckles. “It was all about the fight. Too much death. Even before the Chittrix. I worked undercover, I became so embroiled in the life it nearly killed me. When I met Julia, I just wanted to mess around.” He snorted and pulled at his baseball cap. “She soon knocked that crap out of me. She showed me there could be more. And now that’s what makes me go out and fight every day. To build something better for her, to keep her and everyone else safe.” He shrugged. “There has to be meaning in what we do, otherwise it just becomes a bloodbath.”
The Coyote juddered, and Sawyer was briefly silent. Mabe visualized Rachel and Lissy in his mind’s eye. Their likeness was softened by the long days and months that had passed since their deaths and the keen pain he felt whenever he remembered them was dulled for the first time. What would Lissy say to him if she were here now? He rolled his eyes internally. She’d tell him to get a grip. She had no time for revenge.
Mabe (Earth Resistance Book 5) Page 15