It was hard to get angry at the soldiers; most of them looked as wound up and terrified as the civilians. Their training never wavered, though, from what I could tell. They fired steadily from the tower in semi-automatic bursts, scopes up, wearing armor and helmets like they were firing at enemy combatants in a hostile country.
I found myself looking away as more bodies fell.
They shot all of the humans who climbed up on the Humvee roofs.
I tried to tell myself it was a mercy, that most of these people were already contaminated or sick. My throat hurt, though. I could practically taste the blood. I watched it darken clothes, followed the patterns as dots and splashes of it splattered the outside windows.
The smoke from the fires seemed to penetrate through the Humvee’s airtight shields, enough to dry out my mouth, make my eyes water.
Luckily, Jorag remained clear-headed.
He gave the tower guard the password via his headset and a secure channel. The password included a Barrier key, along with multiple scans of our aleimi, since at this point all military bases treated pretty much everyone as a potential infection risk or a person of interest.
They also increasingly and heavily relied on seers, since seers were the only group known to be 100% contaminant-free, and unable to act as carriers.
Even so, I realized how normal this mob scene must be for the tower guards when they opened the gate for us with barely a delay once our credentials checked out.
Jorag even got a salute.
They put us through a series of five more gates, like the old-fashioned locks on the barge canals, each involving additional scans and passwords.
Inside the first of those locked areas, they cleaned the bodies off our roofs and shot without preamble any who made it through by clinging to the outside of the Humvee. They even found two who managed to get in by hanging under one of the vehicles.
I watched uniformed soldiers drag the bodies away, wearing body armor, gloves and face masks. The getups made them look faceless and alien, like something out of a science fiction movie, but I knew those masks, jumpsuits, boots and headgear likely doubled as a military-grade version of a Hazmat suit.
Inside the last two gated enclosures, we got two different blood-prick tests to ensure we weren’t carrying the virus, or harboring humans masquerading as seers, which was kind of an ironic twist. To enter or leave each of those gate chambers or locks, an OBE field had to be disengaged to let us through.
It made me think of a giant decontamination chamber, especially given the high dome that circled that part of the base––which, essentially, is what it was. Instead of using actual walls to keep out the virus, which had ceased to be practical, they were utilizing distance from the contaminants, OBE fields, biological agent scanners, blood tests and guns.
“Will that work?” I muttered aloud.
“Balidor seems to think so,” Revik said, feeling my thoughts. “He said they’ve been testing something similar at the hotel, ever since news broke of the disease in San Francisco. They probably have something in place by now.”
I grimaced.
The idea of frying people on the street with OBEs didn’t appeal to me. At all.
“You’ll be thankful for it, once we get the humans inside,” he reminded me softly.
I nodded. I knew he was right, but his words didn’t really help. I wondered if they had a protocol in place for the dead bodies that would eventually ring the hotel, like the dead birds had done on the sidewalk below the hotel’s OBE-protected helipad.
I certainly didn’t have a better solution, though.
Hopefully most people wouldn’t test whatever warning system they’d put in place.
Come to think of it, maybe leaving a few of those dead bodies out there wouldn’t be such a terrible idea.
“Very warlord queen of you,” Revik murmured, kissing my face. “I’ll tell Wreg’s team to sharpen some pikes. We can build a planter box.”
I grunted, rolling my eyes as I snorted a laugh, in spite of myself.
I was used to his and Wreg’s black humor by now.
Once we were on the other side of the last of those massive gates and past the most deadly of the five OBEs, our military escorts dwindled to none.
I exhaled a held breath when I realized I could no longer feel them, either.
Apparently, now that we were inside, they were going to leave us alone.
As we passed through a much smaller gate––probably original to the structure and only a heavy chain-link with razor wire on top––Jorag switched off the Humvee’s outer lights. Slowly, our view of the military base and its long rows of barracks lightened to a pale green through the infrared-equipped windshield as Jorag switched over the view.
I took the lay of the land along with the rest of them.
Still staring through the windshield, I exhaled another deep breath.
Being out of that crowd and away from tower guards and the OBEs brought an instant feeling of relief, like a pressure lifting off my chest.
Guilt accompanied that realization, but not enough to wipe the feeling away.
I could breathe again. I could even think, more or less.
I glanced at Revik, not bothering to voice my question aloud.
“No,” he said, squeezing my fingers. “This used to be a private airstrip. They’ve converted a lot of places like this, taking back as much of the shoreline as they can. Most of them operate as F.O.B.s, especially near major cities.”
My forehead wrinkled. “F.O.B.?”
“Forward Operating Base,” Wreg grunted from his other side.
I nodded, watching Revik train his eyes out the window at the rows of tanks. I could feel his military-persona kicking in, bringing a different kind of interest to his light. It was obvious enough, I could tell he’d been muting a lot of his reactions before, probably to avoid subjecting me to whatever was going on with him in relation to me.
Now, even with the dark patches in his aleimi from what happened at Casa de Shadow, Revik’s aleimi felt sharper, and a fair bit brighter.
The aleimic equivalent of a dog pricking its ears.
“Down, boy,” I said, shaking his arm.
Glancing at me, he laughed, in surprise as much as anything.
“No more toys for you,” I said with mock sternness. “If we have them, you and your band of ruffians will want to use them, and I’m voting on no more actual shooting wars for us for a while. At least not until we get back to the hotel, okay?”
When I saw Wreg looking out the opposite window, a similar glint in his eyes and light, I sighed.
“…Make that down, boys. Seriously, if we have to shoot our way back into New York, I’m staying in the sub.”
Revik smiled, but his eyes didn’t leave the window. Neither did Wreg’s.
Looking between them, I could tell my words hadn’t done jack-all.
“Isn’t the armory at the hotel enough?” I protested.
“Never hurts to have more,” Revik said, eyeing a group of soldiers in full-body organics. His mind muttered, probably multiple-setting camouflage and shock-defense. “…Especially given what’s going on,” he added aloud.
“Always good to have options, princess,” Wreg seconded, his eyes on an armored flier gliding through the night sky like a mechanical bat. He made his voice casual. “We could just look around some. Do a bit of an inventory. What do you think, Nenz?” He turned, his face carefully deadpan. “A quick recon… assess any gaps?”
I snorted my open derision. “Recon, my ass.”
“A bit of pirating, then?” Wreg said, grinning at me. He smacked Revik’s chest with the back of his hand, pretty much right over my head.
“…What do you say? Want to go shopping, boss?”
Revik fit the headset back over his ear and triggered it with his mind, giving me a faint smile while I rolled my eyes at both of them.
“In charge, my ass,” I muttered.
His smile widened, right before he wi
nked at me. He waited for the other end to pick up, then began talking at once.
“Hey, yeah… what's our ETD?” He nodded as the person on the other end, presumably Balidor, must have answered. “Good. So Wreg and I… we have time to do a little acquisitions scouting?”
There was a pause. He laughed at whatever the person on the other end said.
“We’ll behave. I’ll keep Wreg away from the seer quarters, in case he gets ideas on ‘liberating’ more of his brethren.” Nodding at something else the person said, he glanced at me. “…Yeah. I’m going to try. I’m thinking the answer is probably no, though.”
“You bet your ass.” I folded my arms, scowling, but I was mostly amused.
Still, Revik was getting a little too good at charming everyone into getting what he wanted, even Balidor. He was definitely a lot better at it than I was these days.
“Hardly,” he mouthed at me, still listening to the person on the other end. He glanced down my body, raising his eyebrows suggestively before covering the mic with his hand, leaning closer to my ear. “You know I do whatever you ask of me, wife.”
Wreg grunted a laugh.
I rolled my eyes, but snorted a half-laugh, too. “Gee. Thanks for that, husband. And no, by the way. You don’t.”
Wreg laughed louder, shoving my arm good-naturedly.
Revik only smiled in answer, tugging my hair before he glanced at Wreg, who was already zipping up the front of his armored vest. I watched as Wreg eased Jon out of his lap and onto the seat next to him once he’d finished.
Revik started to climb over me to the door, his hand reaching for his headset. He pounded on the glass separating us from the driver’s section, where Jorag sat next to Jax and Neela. Once the three of them looked back, Revik motioned with his hand for them to stop the car.
Neela grinned at once, glancing at me long enough to roll her eyes. Clearly, she knew exactly what and who was behind this little detour.
The Humvee rolled to a stop, not far from a second line of tanks.
I watched the ones behind us drive around, and could almost see the white faces pressed to the glass behind the darkened, one-way windows. I knew they had to be wondering what the heck we were doing.
“…We’ll be there," Revik assured the person on the other end of his headset. “In and out, I promise. No complications.”
“Right,” I muttered.
Laughing a little, Revik clicked off the headset even as he reached for the door handle, leaning over to give me a quick kiss before he hit through the four-key sequence to open the locks. The second he opened the door, I was hit with a sharp blast of cold air, shocking enough that I flinched back, shielding my face with a hand. Being inside the sealed space, I hadn’t realized how freezing cold it was outside the Humvee’s shell.
I recovered enough to give Wreg an irritated look when he smacked me hard on the shoulder in the process of climbing over me after Revik.
“Don’t you want to come?” the Chinese seer asked. “I’m sure I felt Nenz thinking about it. Besides, we might need more, shall we say… energetic backup. Right, Nenz?”
Revik glanced back at the two of us, looking first at Wreg, then at me.
The wind blew his black hair sideways in a sharp gust, but his eyes remained intently on me, as if he were thinking about Wreg’s words.
After a pause, he grinned, as if remembering something.
He clicked over the sound of the wind as his grin widened, right before he smacked Wreg affectionately on the shoulder.
“Brilliant,” he seconded. “She’s coming.” He crooked a finger at me, his gaze pointed above the smile. “I’d forgotten I don’t have to ask. You gave me permission to teach you again, love. That means I get to order you around… in this area, at least.”
“What?” I said. “No, it doesn’t.”
“You’re coming, wife. You need the field training.”
“Field training?” I snorted. “In what? Stealing?”
Wreg laughed. I glanced over the armored vests and pants both of them wore.
“Seriously? This is how you’re going to use your teaching authority, husband?”
Revik nodded, clicking his fingers for me to hurry up. He glanced at his watch. “Come on. I promised Balidor we’d be fast. And inconspicuous. Anyway…” He motioned overhead. “There’s a storm coming. We should get moving.”
“You know when I gave you permission, this wasn’t exactly what I––”
But Revik went on as if I hadn’t spoken.
“––and Wreg’s right. We might need manipulation back-up. Especially if we’re going to do this as quietly as I promised ‘Dor.”
“That is a flimsy, flimsy excuse,” I informed him, clicking sharper. “Even for you.”
He only grinned, motioning more emphatically for me to exit the vehicle.
“Stop whining and come on. Let’s manipulate things, baby.” He grinned wider, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them for warmth. “You can work out your anger at me back at the hotel.”
Feeling a curl of heat off him, even through the distance between us, I glanced up at the cloud-darkened sky, frowning. I watched Wreg grin at me, too, even as he tugged his black hair back in a ponytail and wrapped an organic clip around it.
I glanced back to where Jon slept, wondering if I should wake him.
Before I’d focused on him fully, I remembered the disease with a jolt.
Realizing my door hung wide open, I tensed until I saw that Wreg had already put the oxygen mask over his face. It fogged mildly with each of his breaths, but his eyes remained closed, his hands resting by his face on the long bench seat.
I wondered how Wreg had managed to do all that before Revik opened the door.
Maybe I was a little okay with Jon and Wreg being together.
Wreg snorted louder.
“I’m touched, princess.” Rolling his eyes in exaggerated seer fashion, he motioned me out of the car, his gestures more impatient than Revik’s had been. “Come on. It’s fucking freezing out here. Your brother is fine. Jorag knows I’d murder him if Jonathan acquired so much as a new scratch while we’re gone.”
He raised his voice for that last part.
Jorag tapped his middle finger pointedly against the driver’s side window, one of the few that wasn’t shaded out. The blue-eyed seer glanced over his shoulder, winking at me as he did it.
Laughing in spite of myself, I gave in, climbing down from the Humvee and slamming the heavy, organic door. As soon as I did, another blast of cold air hit me, making me suck in a breath. Wreg really hadn’t been kidding.
“No,” he said, blowing on his hands and stomping his feet. “I most definitely was not, princess.”
Since we’d all changed back into the same clothes we’d worn for that field op in Argentina, we didn’t really look all that different from the soldiers running into and away from the cutting wind, scattered like black ants across different segments of the tarmac.
Our clothes were significantly dirtier.
They’d still probably just dismiss us as private contractors if they saw us, unless we got caught in the actual act of stealing something. Yanking my hair back in a ponytail of my own, I tied it off using a rubber band instead of the clip traditionally worn by seer males, which at least kept it from whipping at my face.
By the time I reached Revik’s side, the Humvee with Jorag, Jax, Neela and my brother had already left us behind, rolling down the flat expanse of asphalt after the others, until it blended in with all the other armored vehicles.
“So what’re we stealing, boys?” I said, relieved to be out of the car in spite of myself. “Do we flip for first pick? Or am I just here to play pack mule?”
Revik, who’d been looking at me with that predatory glint in his eyes, smiled. Smacking Wreg on the chest, he walked in the direction of the nearest set of buildings, his gait falling into that curious, cat-like stride I couldn’t help following with my eyes.
Resigning myself
that this was Wreg and Revik, and this was their idea of fun, I followed with a head-shake and a sigh.
6
MISS ME?
“WHERE ARE THEY?” Jon glared at the other seer, his voice distorted through the oxygen mask. “I mean, you’re kidding, right? You didn’t really give Revik the thumb’s up on this? In the middle of a damned hurricane?”
Balidor shrugged with one hand, eyes distracted.
His gray eyes remained focused on Chandre, who stood a good dozen yards away from the two of them, talking to someone Jon didn’t know.
A freezing cold wind howled outside the organic plating of the hangar-like storage area, rattling the walls, morphing into eerie, echoing moans that lengthened into whispering cries as it traveled through the high-ceilinged space.
Where Jon and Balidor stood was mostly protected from the wind and relatively quiet, but still, Jon found himself glancing periodically out the tall doorway, squinting to see the growing squall in the dark. The air felt charged, as if heavy with unexpressed electricity.
He could almost taste the copper in his mouth.
“We can’t turn down free supplies, Jon,” Balidor said after another beat.
“Free?” Jon snorted. “Free to who?”
“Free to us.”
Balidor said the last without inflection, still watching Chandre.
Jon followed his gaze to the Indian-looking seer, who stood about ten meters away, hands on her slim hips as she listened to a woman in a SCARB jacket. The new woman had strong Asian features and wore a dark blue skirt suit under the oversized windbreaker, accessorized with a designer watch, hoop earrings and Italian high heels.
The woman’s high-cheekboned face and gold-colored eyes marked her as a seer pretty much right off, but something else about her features made Jon stare, too.
It took a beat longer for that secondary association to click.
Then it did.
She looked like Cass.
Feeling a harder emotion get lodged somewhere in his chest, Jon looked back at Balidor. He shivered from another gust of icy wind from the open doors, even wearing the thick, armored vest and combat pants. Rubbing his arms, he glanced up as the patter of rain started again, hitting the upper roof and echoing like shots from a few million nail guns.
War: Bridge & Sword: Apocalypse (Bridge & Sword Series Book 6) Page 7