Mabe (Earth Resistance Book 5)

by Theresa Beachman

  Sawyer wasn’t giving up. “Maybe she’s just scared. She’s been on her own in that lab with only a few other people around, scraping out an existence, and the one thing she thought she could do to help backfired. That’s got to hurt.”

  Mabe knuckled his hands around the steering wheel. Sawyer was right. She’d been devastated the plan hadn’t worked. Who could blame her? Memories of Sarah filled his head, bright and razor sharp. These were the memories that mattered now, the ones of the living, of the feisty scientist who had worked her way under his skin and parked herself right in his heart without him even realizing.

  God. “I’ve been an idiot.”

  Sawyer’s grin didn’t ease as Brackla loomed on the horizon. He stretched and jammed his feet back into his boots. “Nah. We’ve all done it, it’s what you do after you realize you’ve been an idiot that matters.”

  Mabe steered up the dirt track to the underground base. Pine trees stretched overhead, blocking out the light, filling the cab with the spicy scent of pine needles and earth.

  Of home.

  How had he failed to see it before? That the people he’d fought alongside for the last six months had become his family and this, wherever they were, was his home. Rachel and Lissy were gone and vengeance wouldn’t bring them back.

  But it might cost him Sarah.

  It had snuck up on him out of nowhere. All along he’d believed he was cut off from everyone, keeping them separate, protecting himself, when the reality was they’d secretly inveigled their way into his heart. He’d made all these excuses to commit, and yet he already was committed.

  To everyone in the base.

  To Sarah.

  He killed the engine as they neared the ramp that led down to the base entrance.

  A door cracked open, and Julia was running up the slope. Sawyer was out of the Coyote’s cab in a heartbeat, sweeping her up in his arms, spinning her around and burying his face in her neck. Julia squealed and wriggled in his grip, peppering him with kisses. When he put her down at last, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes luminous.

  She lifted hand in greeting when her smile faltered. “Where’s Foster?”

  Sawyer grunted. “He’s coming but there was something he needed to sort out first.” He glanced over at Mabe. “Just like some of the rest of us have to.”

  Julia glanced between the two men, tucking loose hair against her neck. “What do you mean?”

  Sawyer grabbed her around the waist, kissing her full on the mouth. “Nothing.” He released her, scanning the sky. “Let’s get this gear inside before the Chittrix turn up as a welcome party.”

  Mabe shouldered the bag of medical equipment Sarah had packed for him and walked down to the entrance. Gear spun in his mind, no longer in neutral and numb.

  Sawyer was right. It was everything else, the human connection that made the fight worthwhile—the people he considered his family. He would lay down his life for all of them. They gave meaning to every step he took outside.

  What he wanted with Sarah, what he thought he’d had with her—it was no different. Only it had been better. Run deeper, and they’d only kissed. How insane was that?

  The steel doors clanged and darkness enveloped him in the safety of the underground bunker while Sarah was still out there.

  Alone.

  Two steps inside the base, he was already planning to leave.

  And this time he wouldn’t let her go.

  31

  Dark clouds massed overhead as Sarah watched the Coyote until it disappeared from the horizon. Sawyer and Mabe had left for Brackla, Foster had insisted on staying a little longer to help with Riley.

  She turned back to the crappy jeep that Diana had driven. Foster was helping Riley down, his arm curved around her slim shoulders. Artem was removing weapons, his face chalky, his lips thinned to a hard line.

  On the drive back to Carven House the heavens had split, washing the world clean.

  Except for here. She stared at the rain darkened building, at the expanse of bones. Nothing had changed, the world was still ripped apart by Chittrix. And yet. Everything was different.

  Bleakness welled up inside her. “I’m so sorry.”

  Artem shot her a sideways glance but didn’t reply, heading toward Carven. Foster jogged alongside Riley, guiding her to shelter.

  Fat rain plastered her hair to her head as they vanished through Carven’s entrance. The water was icy cold, and her skin massed with goose bumps in seconds, but she didn’t shield herself as she manhandled her guns from the jeep.

  She no longer cared if a Chittrix came and killed her. What was the point in being here if she couldn’t make a difference? Living without fighting was just existing. But revenge had driven her for so long, blocking out everything else. Maybe there wasn’t anything else left inside her?

  Fatigue soaked through her to the core. It was all she could do to follow Foster and Riley toward the building dodging deepening puddles.

  She hesitated on the steps. They were marked, a testament to the fight that had occurred here only hours before. The fight where Mabe had fought at her side. Protecting her.

  Had it only been such a short time? She climbed them one at a time, dragging the nose of her weapon through the dusty corridor and out into the courtyard.

  Foster was waiting for her, rain sleeking across the stories that branded his flesh. Blood spattered his cargo pants, and the light that normally shone in his eyes was dimmed. He held out a hand for her.

  “Artem’s gone ahead. I wanted to make sure you could get down alone.” He cocked his bald eyebrow at the steely metal lid. “That thing is fricking heavy.”

  He’d saved Riley’s life, and then he’d returned here to make sure she was safe. Her throat closed up. Time after time, Mabe’s team had shown themselves to be honorable. And, no matter what the Chittrix threw at them, they just kept going.

  Why couldn’t she be more like that?

  “You okay?” He seemed oblivious to the rain soaking his shirt, plastering it to the hard planes of his body. His body armor was gone. Just the man stood before her now.

  “I’m fine.” Her voice was scratchy in her throat. Worn out. “Riley?”

  He made a see-saw motion with his hands. “Sleeping. I raided your supplies and gave her something to help her relax.”

  She forced a smile. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

  He shrugged and stared at his hands. They were oil stained and bleeding, and when he wiped them on his pant leg, they left a bloody stripe.

  “You’re a good man, Foster.”

  He looked at her, his expression sharp, and shook his head in a slow shake. “No. I’m not.”

  “Mabe mentioned Riley reminds you of someone.”

  “Yes.” Truth flickered in his gaze, but the sharp line of his mouth told her he wasn’t ready to share about his daughter.

  “We should get a move on.” He pointed at the dark shaft.

  “Yeah, well…” It was the last place she wanted to go. She tilted her head, lifting her face to the rain.

  Foster captured her arm with a gentle touch. “You need to get out of this weather, get dried off.” His voice was resonant with kindness.

  She sighed. “I just…” Explanation evaded her. Boiling tears pricked at her eyes. She’d hurt Mabe. Told him to go, when deep down she knew he was the best thing to have ever happened to her. She’d thought she was protecting him but what if she was wrong? God, everything was such a fucked-up mess.

  “I’m going to speak to Riley in the morning. Ask her to come to Brackla. She needs to be with other kids.” He paused, his voice soft in the rushing rain. “You should come too. We have the best people. Like Mabe.”

  She hung her head, unable to look him in the eye.

  “Are you sure you made the right decision?”

  No.

  There was no judgement in his eyes. Only compassion. But her answer remained stuck in her throat.

  Foster paused, letting his words sink i
n before he continued. He motioned toward the corridors. “This place is done.” He didn’t mean just the stones and mortar, and he was right. “It won’t survive another attack from the Chittrix. They’ll return here in the next few days.”

  “I know. I’m just not sure I’m much use to anyone anymore.”

  She walked past him, her socks squelching in her boots. The rain had chilled her to the marrow, and her arms were numb as she sat down on the edge of the shaft. She gripped the rim of the drain, her knuckles washed out and white against the mud.

  Below her feet, the steel rungs of the ladder blended into darkness.

  “That’s stupid talk.” Foster squatted in front of her, his forearms resting on his knees.

  She touched him on the shoulder. “I like you a lot, Foster. You might be right. I just don’t know anymore.” She grasped the top rung of the ladder and shot him a watery smile. “I’m so tired.”

  She’d sleep, and go back to the lab, lose herself in her work. The thought of the relief that would provide, the escape from her thoughts, glowed like a beacon in the distance.

  There was salvation and oblivion in her work.

  32

  Sarah lay on her camp bed, her forearm resting against her eyes as protection from the outside world. Her mind was on fire even though there was a deep ache of fatigue lodged in her bones, one she wasn’t sure would ever shift.

  Her thoughts whirled, febrile from the events of the last few days. All her encounters with the Chittrix had blurred into one, a screaming jangle of blood and fury that carved a loop in her brain. And always, over and over again, coming back to Mabe.

  The kindness in his eyes, the gentle strength of his arms around her body, and that kiss. She pressed her thighs together as heat arrowed between her legs. Everything about him and the way he made her feel…

  She sat up, rubbing at her gritty eyes. Two days. Had it only been two days since they’d met? Creating a weapon to use against the Chittrix had sustained her for the past eighteen months, given her focus when all she wanted to do was sink to her knees and give up because everything was too difficult and dangerous. But Mabe storming into her life had made her question the rules she’d put in place to keep herself and everyone else safe. She’d buried her wants and needs for so long, for the sake of her own sanity and for the sake of survival.

  For so long it had been the fight first.

  But what if?

  Sweet God, this was getting her nowhere, achieving nothing. She swung her legs out of the bed and forced them into her boots. Work. She needed to work. She pulled a ratty fleece over her head and tied her hair back with an elastic.

  Time to buckle up.

  Her steps were loud on the corridor tiles as she headed to the lab. Zoe had called it quits hours ago. Hopefully Artem and Jacob had too. Foster was camped out, sitting at Riley’s door. His head rested against the wall, giving the impression of sleep, but his eyes snapped open as she passed. He raised one finger from where it rested on his knee.

  “I can’t sleep.” She turned her hands to him apologetically.

  He smiled and closed his eyes again, shifting his forearms across his knees to get a more comfortable position for his gun. The knot in her neck eased a little. If nothing else, Riley was safe.

  In her lab, the tang of fried electronics filled her nostrils. The room was still in a state of disarray, and she busied herself with making things right. She collected greasy rags from the counter and dropped them into the wastepaper basket. She swept up all the scrap paper, slotted pens into her pen pot and scuffed dust off the top of her computer monitor with her sleeve. She stood back and surveyed her work. Much better.

  Who was she kidding? She swallowed. This was her safe place. But the lab was strangely empty after all the commotion of the last two days. She sat at her workstation. Her iPod and ear buds were still on the counter where she’d left them.

  When she had danced with Mabe.

  His arms around her waist.

  The warmth of his breath against her cheek as he kissed her—

  Stop.

  She grabbed the iPod and ear buds and stuffed them in a drawer, biting her lip as she slammed the drawer shut and leaned back against it, securing it with her body. She breathed out, fighting the swell of emotion rising within her—the ocean Mabe had unleashed. It was over. Hell, it hadn’t even begun. It would never begin. She turned around, keeping the drawer closed, worrying at a loose shred of skin near her thumbnail. She scanned the room. Her lab, everything surrounding her—the benches, computer, cabinets stuffed with supplies—it was still familiar, but different.

  The room hadn’t changed. She had. Blood stung her mouth as the skin on her thumb ripped.

  A quiet knock came from the door as she wrapped a band-aid around her thumb.

  Zoe peeped into the room. “Hey.”

  “Hey. Can’t sleep either?”

  A long breath. “No. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be on your own or not.” Zoe swallowed. “After Diana.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Sarah beckoned her into the room. At her workstation, she pointed at the empty stool next to her and nudged her computer back to life.

  Zoe took a seat as the structure of the scorpion virus rolled across the screen. Sarah’s hand tightened on the mouse as she remembered Mabe asking her questions about her work. “How could I have missed something so obvious? How could I not have considered normal ant behavior when exposed to the virus?”

  Zoe squeezed her shoulder. “You can’t account for everything, every variable. It’s impossible.”

  Sarah rubbed small circles on her temples. “I don’t know if I can come up with something else.”

  “Maybe it’s time for a change in direction?”

  Sarah spun on her stool. “What do you mean?”

  “We should leave.”

  “And go where?” But she already knew what the answer was.

  “To Brackla. Where the others are.”

  “They’re in just as much of a mess as us. No one has a way out of this.” She met Zoe’s uneasy gaze. “I’m beginning to think the ones who died first were the lucky ones. We’re dying slowly, piece by piece.”

  Zoe fiddled with a loose button on her shirt. “Brackla makes sense.”

  Sarah crossed her arms tightly across her chest and bit down on her lower lip. “You really think that?”

  “It’s time to stop beating yourself up about the bone yard, Sarah. Move on.” Zoe stopped fidgeting with her button. “We’ve all been hiding away down here. But the last two days have shown me there’s more to us. We can fight. There’s strength in you and it’s been there all along. You’ve just been so overwhelmed, stuck in your own grief and guilt you’ve been unable to see it.”

  Sarah swallowed. The truth stung.

  Zoe took one of her hands and clasped it between hers. “It’s not the world that needs to change. It’s us.”

  I need to change. Sarah looked at her friend. At the room that was no longer her place of comfort. I’ve changed already. Because of Mabe. If not for him she wouldn’t have risked the plan at all. But he’d made her believe there was hope, asked her what she needed to make it happen. “I told Mabe to go. That I didn’t want to see him again.”

  Zoe frowned and shook her head. “It’s not too late to fix things. Foster is leaving with Riley. I’m going with him.” Her grip tightened on Sarah’s hand. “Come with us.”

  Change. Metamorphosis. Sarah pressed her fingertips to her closed eyelids.

  “Sarah, what is it?”

  Sarah turned to her monitor. “The virus did work. It’s how I… how we think about it that needs to be different.”

  “You’ve lost me.”

  Sarah tapped on the keyboard, accessing Diana’s database. “It couldn’t be that simple, could it?”

  “What?”

  “They ejected the infected adult from the hive. That’s where it all went wrong.” The heavy band around Sarah’s chest loosened. “They have three stag
es of metamorphosis. Chittrix larvae hatch from eggs and pupate before finally turning into adults.” She rapped the table, breathless with excitement. How had she not thought of this before? “What if we infect the larva?”

  “How on earth can you do that?” Zoe looked perplexed.

  Sarah typed rapidly, scanning through Diana’s files. She stabbed a finger at the screen. “The Chittrix pupate in cocoons like many earth insects, developing their exoskeleton and changing from something grub-like to the monstrosities that fill our skies.”

  Zoe hugged her elbows. “How does this help us?”

  “The cocoon is porous compared to the hardened adult exoskeleton. We only managed to infect one adult and it was removed from the hive to prevent it infecting any other Chittrix. But what if we infected lots of cocoons simultaneously? They’d never be able to remove them all in time before the infection spread. Diana did a lot of research on the larval stage in the early days of the invasion.”

  Sarah clicked on a file, her pulse accelerating. A password box appeared. This was it. She could make a difference, but this time it wouldn’t be to appease her broken sense of responsibility and guilt.

  She pulled in a deep breath. “We need Riley.”

  33

  Foster

  Foster watched over his folded arms. He knew Sarah had the best of intentions, but she was grasping at straws as far as he was concerned. All he wanted was to get Riley to safety. He raised an eyebrow at the sagging ceiling. The fricking lights kept waning, the muted hum of electricity surging and failing in an anxious orchestra. The building was on its last legs. It was no place for a child, even one who thought she was an adult. He was going to make sure she was protected.

  Sarah scooted her stool close to Riley’s, so the two were bumping shoulders. Half an hour ago, she’d insisted on waking Riley to quiz her on possible passwords for her mother’s files. Now they were in, and Sarah’s computer screen was dotted with an army of research folder icons.

  Sadness still haunted Sarah’s face even as fresh enthusiasm lit her features. He’d been unable to talk sense into her earlier. Perhaps the bugs would do that for him once he’d reiterated that staying in a dying heap of bricks was no place for anyone. Maybe. He didn’t know. He was all out of answers these days. Fuck. He bit down on a sigh.