He was nearly on top of us before I could make out a face. It was Kinsley.
“What’s happening?” Logan hissed.
“Carriers,” he gasped. “A whole horde of them. Too many. I have to warn the others.”
“Amory?” I choked.
“He’s holding them off.”
I heard more gunshots.
Without another word, we were running again in the direction of Amory’s shots. We came to a stand of tall spruce trees, and the shots became deafening.
At first I couldn’t see him, but then I noticed something moving in the trees. My eyes caught Amory’s red and black plaid coat. He was reloading his gun.
It was impossible to see clearly in the low light, but as my eyes adjusted, I could just make out a dozen hulking shapes lurching in the shadows.
“Oh my god,” Logan breathed.
There were so many carriers — more than I could count. All of them wore ragged scraps of clothing that hung off their coat hanger–thin frames. Some were missing shoes, their toes blackened from frostbite. As soon as I finished counting one group of them, more seemed to materialize out of the fog. We began shooting with Amory, taking them out one by one. But for each carrier we shot, two more seemed to take its place.
“We need to fan out,” yelled Greyson. “They could try to go around us.”
He and Logan moved in opposite directions, and I stood shoulder to shoulder with Amory. The largest groups seemed to be headed straight for us, and I knew he had to be running low on ammunition. I raised my rifle and aimed for the closest ones on my side.
As he fumbled for more rounds, I saw his ashen face and the strain in his eyes. His hands shook a little as he reloaded.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said, brushing me off as he raised his rifle.
But I could tell something was wrong.
“You’re fighting it, aren’t you?” I yelled as I took aim on another encroaching carrier.
He didn’t answer, but I knew the urges born from Amory’s conditioning at Isador were fighting for dominance. He was struggling to remain in control — to stay himself.
After several minutes, when the carriers didn’t seem to be diminishing in number, I had the fleeting thought that we might have a better shot if he just allowed himself to lose his tenuous grip on control. But once he gave in to that part of him, there was no way to predict how he might react. He could shoot Greyson or Logan. He could shoot me.
As Amory ran out of ammunition, I split the spare magazines and the boxes of rounds from my coat pocket, but we still weren’t making a dent in the enormous horde. If anything, they seemed to be coming at us more quickly.
Where were Kinsley and the rest of the hunters from camp? I thought desperately.
Then I heard a shout behind us. I jerked my head over my shoulder just long enough to see Murphy running in our direction. His coat was flapping, showing the bright red long johns he wore underneath. Even after shooting with Amory and losing ground as quickly as we lost ammunition, it was the look on his face that told me we were truly fighting a losing battle.
“Pack it in,” gasped Murphy.
“We can’t,” grunted Amory as he reloaded. A bead of perspiration was trickling down his brow, and he brushed it off impatiently as he took aim.
“There’s too many of ’em,” said Murphy. “Pack it in, and run back to camp.”
Amory ignored him.
“Now!” he barked. In that moment, Murphy looked terrifying. His face, brown and rough as tree bark, was superimposed against the stormy night sky. He looked like Zeus. I suddenly understood why all these people trusted him to protect their camp.
Amory’s face was screwed up, conflicted. The carriers nearest us were lurching forward at an alarming rate, slowed somewhat by their fallen comrades sticking out of the snow.
“Amory,” I breathed. They were getting closer.
Finally he sighed, and we turned to run back to camp.
“Greyson! Logan!”
They both snapped their heads around, and I could read the defeat on their faces. They saw us running and followed.
Stumbling through the snow, I barely registered the twisted thorns and underbrush catching on my boots or the small branches that smacked me across my face as I ran. I didn’t stop to glance over my shoulder, but I could feel Amory jerking his head back to look.
As the trees began to clear, I could see the chaos that had descended upon the camp. Several of the hunters and watchmen stood with their rifles trained in our direction, and everyone back at the cabins was running in and out with bags and crates overflowing with supplies.
“What’s happening?”
“We’re getting overrun,” said Murphy. “I got Kinsley up there with a birds-eye view, and it ain’t lookin’ good.” He gestured to one of the tallest trees near the perimeter of the woods, and I could see Kinsley roosting up in the highest branches with a pair of binoculars.
“Where will we go?”
Murphy ran an agitated hand over his beard. “We’ll try to regroup. There are other camps north of here, but this horde’s moving fast from that direction. I’ll be surprised if there’s anything left.”
He was right. The swarm was moving fast, but I couldn’t wrap my mind around the idea that a single group of carriers could wipe out an entire camp. These were not the carrier problems we had faced on the farm — this was a siege.
Suddenly, Kinsley lurched forward, almost tumbling from his perch as he strained for a better look.
“PMC!” he yelled. “PMC approaching from the north!”
My stomach clenched.
“That’s the direction the carriers are coming from,” said Logan.
My brain struggled to piece the two together, but then Murphy sighed, removing his hat and rubbing the top of his head. “Holy mother of god. They’re driving them toward us. They’ve weaponized the carriers.”
I heard the rumble of a truck engine and turned to see a small convoy barreling into camp from the road entrance. I recognized the supply trucks we had taken to get here, but there were several smaller trucks and even an old pickup.
Murphy tossed Amory a pair of keys. “You’ve got two minutes to get your friends and get the hell out of here. There’s a walkie-talkie in the front seat. As soon as you shake the PMC, tune to channel seven. The nearest safe house is thirty miles west of here if you get into trouble. We can’t all go there, but you four have your whole lives ahead of you. Don’t do anything stupid.”
A gunshot drowned out his words. I saw a carrier who was lumbering out of the woods fall, and Amory grabbed my arm. Letting him pull me away, it took several paces before I realized he was leading us to the trucks.
“Stop! We have to get Mariah.”
“We can’t. This solves all our problems. We don’t have to kill her, but she can’t lead them to us. She’s already done that.” His voice was clipped and angry.
“We still need her,” I growled, jerking out of his grip and sprinting back toward the cabins. Logan came with me, breaking off to grab our things.
I was so focused on getting to Mariah that I didn’t notice the figure leap out from behind a tree in my peripheral vision. I turned too late, and we collided. The brute force of the impact knocked me into the snow. My rifle went flying, and I jerked sideways to free myself from the tangle of limbs, but the man had his arm around my neck.
“Give me the fucking key,” Jared growled. “You can’t leave her here.”
“I — wasn’t — going to.”
“Liar.” He tightened his grip around my throat, choking me in the crook of his elbow.
Struggling for air, I tried to squirm out of his grip, but he was too strong. I jerked my elbow back to collide with his face. He grunted, shifting on top of me, and I jerked my knee up. Missing my original target, I felt my knee connect with his abdomen, and he coughed. In one clumsy motion, I shoved him off me and struggled to my feet, pounding up the cabin steps. T
hrowing my shoulder against the door and inside, I could see Mariah sitting bolt upright against the radiator, looking more scared than I’d ever seen her. Jared was hot on my heels.
Crossing the room, I collapsed onto my knees and fumbled with the keys. My hands were shaking too badly to fit the tiny silver key into the hole, and Jared shoved me aside to do it himself. He pulled her free and tossed her a coat he’d slung over one of the metal bunk frames. It covered her PMC jacket, but she still wore the telltale white pants. It didn’t matter; everyone was too distracted to notice her as we ran out of the cabin.
Greyson and Logan were already waiting outside the girls’ cabin, rucksacks over their shoulders — Logan with two loaded rifles in her hands. The red Ford Ranger screeched toward us through the snow with Amory in the driver’s seat. We tossed the bags into the back with the spare containers of gas, and I shoved Mariah into the backseat to be sandwiched between Greyson and Logan. I didn’t trust her back there with Jared for a minute.
“She’s not going with you.”
“Yes, she is,” I growled.
Jared opened his mouth to protest, but Logan had her gun trained on him from the backseat.
I jumped into the front with Amory. “You coming or not?”
Jared shot me a murderous expression and then climbed in on the other side of me. It was a tight squeeze.
Amory toggled the clutch, and we plowed through the snow. By now, several carriers had emerged from the woods. The hunters had abandoned their posts, and I could see the flash of PMC officers clad in white emerging behind them.
It was an odd sight. Some carried rifles with what looked like bayonets on the ends; others toted stun guns that they were using to drive rogue carriers forward.
“Shit,” Amory muttered. “They’ve seen us. We need to ditch this truck as soon as possible. It’s too easily recognized.”
By now, the other defectors’ vehicles were long gone. We wound through the trees down the snow-covered gravel road.
“Where should we go?” I asked, directing the question to Logan. “Where do you think they’re coming from?”
“No idea. Those officers could have been sent from anywhere.”
We crunched through the snow in silence for several minutes. Finally, I asked the question I knew no one wanted to hear.
“Where is World Corp based?”
No answer.
I could see Mariah in the rearview mirror, sandwiched between Greyson and Logan. She wore an oddly blank expression.
“There’s no reason for you not to tell us,” I said. “Nobody has to know you used to be PMC. You can join up with us, and we’ll just . . .” I trailed off, partially because I had no real plan of what we would “just” do, and partially because I realized I was also speaking for Greyson, Logan, Amory, and Jared. I didn’t care what Jared thought, but I knew it wasn’t fair to tether Mariah’s fate to the rest of theirs.
Mariah didn’t answer. She wasn’t even looking at me anymore. She was staring out the window, seemingly oblivious to what I was saying.
“Don’t you want to stay with Jared? It’s not as if you can go back to the PMC anyway. And now you don’t have to. If you help us —”
“Stop,” Amory snapped. “Just stop. She’s not going to help us, and we’re not going on some wild goose chase for a cure that might not even exist.”
I looked at him, feeling the anger and hurt churning in my stomach. After everything we had been through, Amory had always been on my side. Even when my rescue of Greyson from Sector X amounted to a suicide mission, he was always willing to follow.
What had changed? Was I being selfish and reckless, or had he simply stopped believing in me?
I fell silent, the hurt and humiliation pooling in the pit of my stomach. I could sense Greyson’s sympathetic stare burning a hole in the back of my neck, and with my thigh pressed up against Jared’s, I could practically feel the smugness radiating from him.
“So. It’s finally happened,” Mariah crooned.
I snapped my head around to look at her, and she wore a wicked smile I longed to smack off her face.
“The golden boy has finally stopped swallowing your bullshit. Nobody wants to listen to you, and you’re all —”
The sharp smack like a whip cut off Mariah’s voice. Logan was so fast I didn’t realize what was happening until I saw her blond hair fly around like a cape. A moment later, Mariah was lying in Greyson’s lap — an angry red patch glowing on her cheek — with Logan’s hands gripping her throat.
“You fucking bitch,” Logan whispered. “We could have let you die in there.” Logan laughed one sharp, scary laugh. “Believe me! Nothing would have made me happier than to see a horde of carriers rip you apart.
“If you don’t help us find the cure, I’m sure I’ll have a chance to do it myself. When I’ve turned, you’ll be my — first — victim.” She punctuated the last few words by shaking Mariah by the throat.
In that moment, Mariah looked much smaller than Logan. She gagged and choked, and an alarmed Greyson had flattened himself against the other side of the cab. Jared twisted around, swatted once at Logan, and then unbuckled and tried to climb over the seat.
Amory jerked the wheel once, and the truck slid across the snowy road, nearly colliding with a tree and sending Jared flying into the window. I smacked into his left shoulder — hard — and Greyson flew into Logan. Losing her grip slightly, she stayed hovered over Mariah, but she seemed to have lost the murderous gleam in her eyes.
“Calm the fuck down!” Amory yelled. “Logan, cut the drama. We have bigger problems right now. We need to get off the road or ditch this car.”
“Where are we going?” Logan screamed in Mariah’s face, her huge green eyes bulging.
“Head north,” Mariah gasped. “You have to cross the border to get to headquarters.”
The cab fell silent.
“Across the border?” repeated Greyson after a long pause. “Well, that’s just great. How are we supposed to get across?”
“That’s why it wasn’t even worth it to tell you,” croaked Mariah. She had freed herself from Logan’s clutches and was massaging her throat. “You’ll never get three defectors and one carrier across the border.”
As she punctuated the word “carrier,” I threw a sympathetic look at Logan, but she was still relishing Mariah’s reaction.
Watching her watch Mariah, I could tell that lashing out was only masking the helplessness she felt. Her eyes looked yellow and bloodshot around the edges, and there was a distinct sheen of fever on her brow.
“We have to try,” I said.
Amory turned his head toward me. “It’s a suicide mission.”
“I know. You don’t have to go with me. No one does. I can take Logan and try to get us across. It’s a long shot, but we don’t have any other options right now.”
“I’m coming with you,” said Greyson. “Going into Sector X to save me was crazy, but you did it anyway.”
Logan seemed to soften slightly at this, but she turned icy when her eyes met Amory’s in the rearview mirror. “I’m not sure when you turned into such a coward.”
A pang of rage flashed across his face, and I saw his grip tighten on the steering wheel. “You have to think, Logan. I know strategy seems to come as an afterthought around here, but it’s going to get us all killed.
“You don’t have to go,” I said, quietly enough so only he could hear. “You’re right. I can’t ask you to do this.”
Amory groaned, pulling his hand down over his face. We had reached the highway.
For several seconds, all I could hear was the loud hum of the truck idling. Then Amory let out an exasperated breath and pulled onto the road headed north.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
We drove on for several minutes before we were forced to pull off at an exit to avoid a rover.
We had reached a cluster of abandoned gas stations and restaurants — a good place for a pit stop on the highway. Amory turned on the ra
mp and pulled into the snow-covered parking lot of an abandoned fast food restaurant with a sun-faded kids’ slide in the courtyard.
“How are we on supplies?” he asked.
“I had some in my pack ready to go,” said Logan. “There’s four bottles of water, a few granola bars, deer jerky, and some almonds.”
“I’ve got instant oatmeal and two cans of beans,” said Greyson.
They looked expectantly at Amory and Jared. Jared continued staring out the window, and Amory jerked his head once. “I got nothing.”
“I didn’t stash any food,” I said. “But there’s about five boxes of rounds in the bottom of my pack.”
Logan grinned. “You stole from the supply cabin?”
“Technically, Ida and I stole from one of the vendors at the Exchange who was trying to steal from us, and we ended up with way more than we would have paid for. I figured that would be much harder to get than food, and we’re always running away at a moment’s notice . . .”
“All right,” said Amory. “We still need to get more food. I don’t want to risk this kind of exposure again — not while the PMC is looking for us. Greyson, you stay and guard Mariah. Jared can go over to that store and try to find food. Haven and I will try to find another car we can take.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Logan snapped. “I’m not an invalid.”
“You can go with Jared. But if there’s any sign of trouble, get out of there.”
I didn’t like the idea of splitting up and leaving Logan with Jared, but watching her holster her knives and sling a rifle over her shoulder, I knew she could more than handle herself.
I helped Greyson tie up Mariah and left knowing he was the best person to guard her. Of all of us, he was the most levelheaded and the least likely to kill her on impulse if provoked.
“Meet back here in thirty minutes,” said Amory. “And look alive.”
Grudgingly, Jared followed Logan across the parking lot toward the mega store on the other side of the road, and Amory and I headed toward a cluster of connected parking lots behind the restaurant. I felt in my pocket for my spare magazine, trying to ignore the nervous twitch on the back of my neck.
Enemy Inside (Defectors Trilogy) Page 23