Spore Series | Book 4 | Exist

by Soward, Kenny

  Jessie stifled a laugh, taking silent satisfaction in his discomfort. “To be fair, you hacked into the CDC network and nearly destroyed Kim’s work. We had to be sure you wouldn’t cause any more trouble.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  Jessie willed herself to be patient, to guard her intentions. But she wasn’t a poker player and had never gambled in her life. Something about Burke made her uneasy. The way his emotions shifted from one moment to the next. The way his eyes searched hers as if plucking secrets right out of her head.

  His easy-going grin returned, growing wider if possible. “I think we should build some trust between us. We need to understand each other better, so we can agree on how to be roommates without those soldiers ending me or Lexi taking you out slowly, one-by-one. Ground rules, if you will.”

  “Bryant did a pretty good job stopping Lexi by himself.”

  “She was just playing,” Burke scoffed. “Trust me when I say she’s quite up for the challenge.”

  “I don’t think she’s the badass you make her out to be.” Jessie shook her head. “But, I’ll humor you. What’s your favorite music?”

  “Music?” He looked genuinely confused.

  “You heard me.” She pulled a face, lips twisted to the side in doubt. “It’s hard for me to trust anyone who doesn’t like music.”

  “Fair enough,” Burke nodded enthusiastically. He lowered his eyes in concentration. Then it struck him, and he gave her a triumphant look. “I’m partial to the classical composers.”

  “Like Beethoven and Chopin?”

  “Those are fine, but I like the ones who aren’t as popular. Specifically, Moszkowski, Finzi, and Korngold.” Burke rocked side-to-side with each name as if hearing their music in his head.

  “I’m not familiar with any of those,” she admitted.

  He stopped rocking and looked her up and down. “No, you wouldn’t be. They’re all exquisite composers. Moszkowski’s music is lively. Something we could use right about now.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell you my favorite music--”

  “I don’t care about that,” he scowled. “The trust game is not tit-for-tat. It’s, I give you something you want, and you give me something I want in return. If those things are amenable, a trust is born.”

  She cursed inwardly. She’d intended to begin small and build up to bigger rewards. “It depends on what it is.”

  “I want you to let me out of this chair, to start.”

  Jessie scoffed. “We’re not letting you walk around free.”

  “That’s not what I’m asking,” Burke said, exasperation showing in his eyes. “I’ve been taped to this chair for three straight days with a few minutes of freedom to take care of my private business. And the soldiers aren’t exactly generous with the time.” He glanced down. “I’m afraid I wet myself, but just a little.”

  “I can ask Bryant if we can make you more comfortable, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

  “Treat me like a human being,” he leveled his gaze at her, “and I’ll return the favor.”

  Jessie stared at him for a long moment. She knew from Kim that Burke was clever and vile, and nothing he said could be taken at face value. Still, her objective was to draw him out, and that meant engaging him. “Okay, what do you suggest?”

  “Get me out of this chair.” His voice rose with discomfort and desperation. “Chain me to the wall. Bind my hands. I don’t care. But give me some freedom to move. As we speak, I have an itch on my temple, and my right arm has fallen painfully asleep.”

  Jessie shrugged. “Do you know what it’s like to have a nasty fungus stuck in your lungs? Have you ever choked on molasses and sandpaper? That’s what I had to deal with. That’s what you gave me.” While she was doing her best to remain emotionally distant, anger boiled up inside her.

  “I’m sorry you went through that,” Burke said with a detached smile. Then he nodded as if he’d sussed out some vital information “I suspect you’ve discovered something. It’s clean of spores down here, but not outside. Neither you, Paul, or Bryant wore respiratory protection when you brought me in.”

  “We’re close to a breakthrough,” she admitted triumphantly. “A cure.”

  “Good for you.” His admiring gaze looked painted on, his eyes drifting off into the distance. A muscle in his face twitched.

  Jessie imagined how that must bother him. No matter how hard he tried to destroy the cure and his connection to the outbreak, he was losing. She raised her chin with pride.

  Burke sighed resignedly. “I’m willing to give you a two-for-one if you get me out of this chair.”

  “A two-for-one?”

  “Yes. I told you my favorite composers.” Burke relaxed his features, back to his half smile. “But I’m willing to provide more information about our facility in Arkansas. To help you develop your cure.”

  Jessie narrowed her eyes at him, searching for the lie. She suspected he had more resources than he’d let on, though she’d not expected to get to the heart of it so soon. “You told Kim all your assets had been destroyed. You said you had no facilities left, and your scientists had abandoned you.”

  “I was in no position to tell her the truth,” he scoffed. “She would have used it against me. The military would have taken control of the facility immediately.”

  “And now?”

  Burke shook his head and lowered his eyes. “You’ve fought me to a standstill. I have nothing left to lose. And you’re torturing me in this chair.”

  “So, about the Arkansas facility--”

  “Let me go, first. Actually...” Burke made a head motion, and an exasperated grunt escaped him. “Be a dear and come here, please.”

  Jessie blinked, not understanding.

  “I have an itch on my temple. It’s driving me insane. You have to scratch it before we take one more step forward.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “If you want access to my bio-production facility, yes. I have the equipment you need, and a few staff remaining.” His expression hardened. “But that’s all I’ll say until you get this damn itch!” He emphasized damn itch, turning his head back and forth as if trying to rub his temple on air. “It’s right at the edge of my mask.”

  Not believing what she was about to do, Jessie stood and took a step toward him. She shot a glance at the door, wondering if she should have Bryant come in.

  “Oh, come on,” Burke scoffed. “I’m taped to a chair. How could I possibly harm you?”

  Jessie stared at his sweaty, miserable face and his unkempt hair. A smell drifted off him like sweat and vegetable soup. She looked into his blue eyes, searching for a hint of wrongdoing.

  She stepped forward and stood before him. “Okay, where’s the itch?”

  He straightened in his chair and stared ahead. “Start scratching, and I’ll guide you. Start at the right temple, please.”

  With another head shake, Jessie carefully reached out and put her fingertips against his greasy skin.

  “Use your nails, please.”

  She made a disgusted face but clawed her fingers so the nails pressed into the Tyvek. She moved them up and down, scratching his temple right behind his eyes.

  “Back farther,” he said.

  Jessie moved her hand toward the temporal bone, making circles with her nails, scratching his scalp beneath the hair. The sooner she got the itch, the sooner she could escape this gross exercise.

  “A little higher. Beneath the rubber part of the mask.”

  She moved her hand higher, still circling and pressing the rubber up slightly without breaking the seal.

  “Ah, right there.” Burke sighed, nudging against her hand, eyes shut as he luxuriated in the touch. “Yes, that’s perfect. Absolutely exquisite.”

  She let him enjoy the moment for another five seconds. She was about to pull her hand back when his neck and shoulders tensed. He whipped his head around, mouth open, teeth snapping repeatedly behind the visor with light clacking sounds. Jessie jer
ked her fingers away from his nipping incisors.

  She retreated with a pensive expression, heart racing, fist cocked back to strike him. Burke was chuckling, shoulders trembling with giddiness.

  She relaxed. “You really are an asshole.”

  “I was only playing,” he sputtered in good humor. “You have very snappy reflexes, by the way.”

  “Did you even have an itch?”

  “Yes, I did.” He added hastily. “But not anymore. Thank you.”

  Jessie’s lips pursed of their own accord. “I should get Bryant in here to teach you a lesson.”

  “No, don’t!” His laughter died, and he regarded her with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have actually bit you. You were safe the whole time. Please don’t be mad.”

  Jessie blew an aggravated cherry from her lips. Then she turned on her heel and strode out of the storeroom. She opened the door and stepped into the clean hall, pulling the door shut behind her.

  She stripped off her Tyvek suit and shoved it into a bleach bucket to kill any traces of fungus she might have left inside it from her clothes. She did a quick air reading and saw the spore count was ten spores per cubic meter. Not a lethal amount, but not perfect either.

  Their constant cleaning and use of air purifiers kept the count low enough for Burke to eat and drink in the storeroom without his mask. Once through, Jessie exited the clean hall and entered the theater.

  Bryant stood from where he’d been sitting on a nearby stool. He caught her sick expression, and a scowling frown creased his features. “Are you okay? What did he say? Did he do something to you?”

  Jessie stopped and shook herself loose, both mentally and physically. She lifted her eyes to the soldier to reassure him. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  Bryant’s concern faded. “Did you get anything out of him?”

  “A little. Enough. I think we’re on the right track.”

  “Okay, then.” He glanced at the clean hall door. “I’ll get back to helping the guys.”

  She nodded and watched him go. She still shook from her confrontation with Burke, but she wasn’t ready to turn Bryant loose on him. The former CEO was right. They would require a degree of trust between them, no matter how skewed, if she wanted to learn more about Arkansas.

  “Hey, Jessie!”

  She raised her eyes to see Fiona traipse toward her from where she’d been sitting in one of the theater chairs with her DVD player.

  “Hey, baby!” She knelt to catch the girl. “Are you still getting underfoot?”

  “She’s no trouble,” Weissman said. The medic sat on one of the bunks with an energy bar and bottled water in his hand. “Just give her some shows to watch and she’s fine.”

  “Wanna help me make popcorn?” she asked with a child’s arching brow.

  “I need to talk to Paul first,” Jessie explained. “Can you watch more of your shows until I get back?”

  “I’ll take her,” the medic said. “Come on, girlie. Let’s make popcorn.”

  Fiona grinned and waited for Jessie’s permission. She nodded, urging the girl on, and she ran to Weissman with a gleeful cry.

  Chuckling, Jessie stood and strode across to the lab door. With a glance at the guys completing the finishing touches on their barracks, she opened the door and entered.

  Paul hadn’t changed from his position on the stool. The images on his screen were of blood type models. “How do you like Burke?” he asked without looking up. “Did you find him pleasant to talk to?”

  “He’s more of a jerk than I could’ve ever imagined.” Jessie shuddered as she recalled touching him.

  Paul grunted but kept his eyes on his work.

  She shifted from one leg to the other, regarding the mycologist curiously. “He has an odd taste in music, he’s highly manipulative, and his ego is massive.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Paul said. “We’d be better off taking him into the yard and putting him out of his misery. “I’m telling you, Jessie. That man will be the death of us all.”

  *

  Lexi stood back from the dashboard console, digesting what she’d just heard. Charlie, the bus driver, muted the inside speakers to allow the mercenary a moment to think. He always knew what she wanted, and she saw why Burke valued the man’s service. He was one of the few people she’d ever met who didn’t ask questions.

  Charlie knew how to shut up and do what he was told.

  After Burke had given himself up, they’d driven the bus across town. It was important they remain hidden, out of sight, lying in wait for an opportune moment to strike.

  “Sounds like the implant worked,” Pauline said from the lounge couch. Her long legs were propped on a padded stool, and she sat with a stiff posture, favoring her wounded chest. The woman still had trouble breathing at times because of her cracked ribs from the bullet she’d taken, but it was a miracle she was even alive. Give Charlie another point for being an adequate medic. He’d probably saved Pauline’s life.

  “It definitely worked,” Lexi replied. “I can’t say I’m sorry about Burke’s body cavity search.”

  “Me, too,” Pauline giggled, coughed, and clutched her chest in pain.

  Lexi frowned. Pauline was the opposite of Charlie. Talkative, brash, and not overly helpful. At least not wounded like she was.

  “You want me to stay patched in with Burke?” The driver looked up with expectant eyes, his middle-aged face eager to please.

  “And listen to his incessant rambling for the next two hours? No thanks. We’ll check back with him later.”

  Lexi placed one arm across her chest and rested her right elbow on it. She rubbed her index finger over her chin and beneath it, taking in its rounded shape and angular jawline.

  She could just give up on Burke and go to California. She could take her chances infiltrating his facility there without causing her precious son harm.

  “Or, I can keep tabs on things here a while longer,” she murmured.

  The fingers caressing her chin circled in and gripped themselves into a tight fist.

  Chapter 9

  Moe, Chinle, Arizona

  Moe rode Copper’s back across the dry desert, the shiny-coated sorrel horse setting a blistering pace for the others as they scouted the canyon’s rim. They approached Chinle’s southeast side, riding up from the South Rim.

  It was Moe, Waki, Deputy Whalen, and two other men from town, all experienced riders and shooters who’d grown up in the area.

  Moe peered across the red desert from behind a pair of dark sunglasses with an Arizona Wildcats hat on his head. The sun beat down from a cloudless blue sky, bringing with it a promise of summer heat that would easily stretch past one hundred degrees.

  He guided Copper to the top of a rise and pulled up on his reins with a “Whoa!” Then he lifted his military binoculars from his chest and placed them against his eyes, looking toward Chinle.

  A horse drew up beside him in a pounding of hooves and dust. He lowered his lenses and glanced over to see it was Waki on her chestnut mare. She wore a colorful scarf wrapped around her head and face to protect her from the unforgiving sun and dust. Her dark eyes peered toward the horizon before shifting to him.

  “See anything interesting?” she asked.

  Moe returned the binoculars to his eyes and resumed his scanning. “I don’t see anyone in the desert, and the town has stopped burning.” He turned in his saddle as the other three men galloped up. Moe jerked his head toward the west, and the riders broke around the rise and continued scouting in that direction.

  “How bad is it?”

  They were close enough to the city’s edge, yet he couldn’t see much detail. “The suburbs were in bad shape when we left. The Wildcat Den is intact, and the Denny’s still stands. But many houses around the outskirts are now burned-out husks. Ranches and farms, all gone.”

  “I hate this, and Mom would’ve hated it, too.” Waki’s expression was grim. She shook her head and clicked her tongue. “C
an’t we attack them or something? They shouldn’t be able to get away with this.”

  His sister’s tone rose with impatience and a sense of unrealized justice. She’d always been easy to anger over things close to her heart, willing to jump into a pointless fight at any time. She’d been that way her whole life. While Moe admired her for her spirit, he preferred to choose his battles wisely.

  “You’re right. They shouldn’t get away with it, and they won’t. But we can’t attack them outright. We have limited forces, limited weapons, and we’re protecting what remains of our culture and people.”

  “Playing defense,” Waki said, and he could sense her sneer without looking at her. “That’s just like you, brother. We should find their soft spots and hit them hard, not sit back like cowards.”

  “You have no clue what you’re talking about. You weren’t here for the outbreak, and you don’t know Carver.” Moe regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. Not because he was wrong, but because Waki was drawing him out and pressing his buttons. His sister brought out the absolute worst in him, forcing him into arguments that made him sound childish. “Come talk to me when you have several thousand lives in your hands. Let’s see how anxious you are to make a stupid decision.”

  “We’re to stay back and do nothing?” Waki remained unfazed and relentless as usual.

  “No.” But she was at least partially correct. They needed information, and they needed it soon. “Let’s get up close and personal. Let’s see what they have.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about, brother.” Waki grinned. “I want to look into the mouth of the snake and pluck its fangs.”

  Moe scoffed. “Let’s avoid the fang plucking.”

  Waki gave her horse a light kick, and the chestnut mare tossed her head and bolted forward with the same wild spirit as his sister. Moe shook his head and watched them run. His relationship with her was rocky at best, though he still loved her. She was his blood.

  “Yah!” he called, giving Copper a nudge.

  The gelding launched ahead, and Moe leaned his shoulders forward to better balance himself atop the animal’s back. Soon, they’d caught up with his sister, eyes scanning left and right for the other three men.