Justice Ascending

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “Tace?” Sami said, her voice weak.

  He half turned to see her climbing from the truck, her expression disoriented.

  “Sami.” He shrugged off the president and looked frantically for the gun.

  Atherton sliced at him with a knife. Where had the knife come from?

  Tace jumped back, pain prickling his wrist.

  Sami fell to the ground and slowly drew a gun from her boot with her good arm.

  Atherton bellowed and jumped back on his vehicle, spinning it around and spraying dirt.

  Sami wavered but lifted her arm.

  Atherton barreled down the road.

  Sami shot several times, her aim wide.

  Tace gritted his teeth and ran for her, already yanking off his shirt to press against her wound. “How bad?”

  “I don’t know.” Her head rested back on the dirty truck.

  He lifted her, ignoring his bleeding wrist. “Keep pressure on it.”

  She winced and put her hand over the shirt, tears sliding down her pretty face.

  He scooted her over and started the engine. “We’re going as far as we can on the rim, and then we’ll have to change vehicles or find a spare.” Finding a spare was the better idea. “As soon as it’s safe, I’ll take a look at your wound. Just stay with me, okay?”

  She turned, her face pale, blood dotting her neck. “Yes, Tace. I promise.” Then she passed out again.

  He set her head in his lap and punched the gas, wincing as the truck rocked and then slowly moved into action. There had been a series of park ranger trucks about two miles down the road. If he could get there without incident, he could change the tire and go find medical supplies for Sami.

  He maneuvered around trees while reaching down to feel the pulse in her wrist. Steady and strong although a little slow. “You’ll be okay, baby.” He said the words to reassure them both. She had to be okay.

  * * *

  Sami held her shoulder, not sure if numbness was a good sign or not. But she’d stopped bleeding, so the injury couldn’t be that bad. They’d driven for a while, and she had passed out for a bit, but now they were going through a small neighborhood south of Lake Tahoe. A handmade sign proclaimed an older home as a place to rent trucks.

  “Perfect.” Tace turned down a long driveway littered with rocks and foliage. Two beaten-up trucks were parked next to the rough siding on the house, and darkness showed from within. A large metal shop, probably bigger than the house, rose up in the back. He drove around the home, and the moon shone down, illuminating a big, empty back courtyard. Oil and gasoline stained the concrete. One lone truck was parked over by the shop and had jeans-clad legs hanging out. “Hold on.” He jumped out and left the engine running.

  She nodded.

  He used a small penlight he always kept and ran for the truck, cautiously looking inside. He moved a little and then returned. “Old guy has been dead at least a month. No obvious injuries—probably Scorpius.”

  Sami winced and looked toward the house. “Might be bodies inside.” She couldn’t handle the smell right now—she just couldn’t.

  “Yeah.” Tace reached over and patted her thigh. “I’ll take care of it. We have to fix your shoulder. Stay here.”

  He turned and disappeared through the back door of the house.

  Silence pounded outside the vehicle. The wind swirled newspapers, mail, and pine needles around the courtyard. When Tace returned and opened her door, she jumped.

  “I think the guy lived alone. No bodies inside, and it doesn’t look like he packed to leave.” Tace reached past her to turn off the engine and then lifted her, carrying her into a small mudroom with an ancient washer and dryer. Men’s work clothes hung from metal pegs, and the place smelled like musty dishcloths and cigar smoke. He continued into a living area with a worn chintz sofa and matching easy chair facing a boxy television with a dusty satellite dish controller on top.

  “What about Barbara?” Sami asked.

  Tace paused. “I made sure the body stayed covered, and it’ll be better in the back of the truck.”

  Sami winced when he set her down on the sofa. Dust wafted up. “Remember the days of television?”

  “Barely. Let me look.” Tace gently pulled her hand away from her arm. “The bullet sliced you, darlin’.” He pointed the penlight closer. “A couple of stitches should do it.” He stood and noted a lantern on the floor, quickly igniting it. The room glowed a soft yellow. “I bet this guy had a first aid kit. If not in the house, then in the shop. Just hold on.”

  Sami nodded and leaned her head back to rest. The place felt empty and kind of sad, but maybe there was food in the kitchen. A bachelor ought to have tons of canned food. She should get her butt off the sofa and start scavenging, because they couldn’t waste any opportunity. Yet the sofa was just so darn comfortable.

  She thought of Barbara again, and her eyes welled.

  “Eureka.” Tace came back into the room with a kit and a prescription bottle. “Take one.” He handed over a pill.

  She shook her head, even though her right side ached.

  “Take it, or I’ll help you do it.” Tace leaned in. “We’re safe for a while here, and then we have to get on the road again. So you’re going to take this very nice pain pill and let your body relax. Trust me.”

  Relaxing without pain? Man, she wanted to be all tough and defiant, but no pain for a few moments was just too tempting. She took the pill and swallowed the entire thing without gagging.

  “Thank you.” He set out the materials. “This is gonna hurt, and I’m sorry.” Without waiting for her to comment, he lifted her shirt over her head. “Hold on.”

  She nodded and curled her fingers into the sofa.

  Tace slipped the needle in, and pain rippled through her. “You okay?”

  “Fine,” she said, her teeth gritted. “It’s not that bad.”

  He grinned. “You’re tough, baby. You really are.” He bent his head and continued, his movements sure and careful. Finally, he sat back and plastered antibacterial gel and a bandage over the wound. The minor surgery had hurt but not nearly as much as she’d expected. “All better,” Tace murmured.

  She smiled as the pain pill started taking effect. “I’m fine.”

  “Good.” He tugged her forward to look at her back. “You have a couple of scrapes but nothing bad.” He ran the pad of his finger along the VANGUARD tattoo across her left shoulder blade before sitting her back up. “If you’re up to it, why don’t you raid the kitchen while I go find a spare tire for the truck? I’d like to be on the road in an hour. We’ll be in full light for most of the trip as it is.” He frowned, and those blue eyes darkened. “I don’t think we should stay put, especially since we have all the explosives. If the president regroups faster than we hoped, I’d rather be on the road than trapped here.”

  “Agreed.” She pushed up from the sofa. The president would be looking for those explosives, and they needed to be safely behind Vanguard fences. “Go fix the tire.” They both needed to deal with Barbara’s death once they were safe.

  He dropped a quick kiss to her forehead and then turned to go back through the kitchen.

  She stilled and touched her head. Her silly heart jumped. Then she took the lantern and walked toward the red brick fireplace to the left. Framed pictures were stacked all over, showing the evolution of a family. Mom and Dad with three kids. Then grandkids. Then grandparents—just the two of them.

  She reached for a pink funeral notice for Eugenia Flangston from nine years ago. Apparently, Mr. Flangston had been a bachelor for nine years. Sami rubbed her chest. Had he died alone in his truck?

  She cleared her throat and moved toward the bathroom, finding toilet paper, lotions, and some over-the-counter medication that she put in a shower caddy. There were clothes still in the dresser in the bedroom, and a feminine vanity sat in the corner with perfume bottles still on top. Sami moved toward the vanity, feeling like a thief but curious. Who had Eugenia been?

 
Yarn and needles took up one drawer, while letters from Albert Flangston when he’d been in the service so long ago were stacked in another drawer and wrapped with a hair ribbon. Sami opened another drawer and gasped at a beautiful green rosary. She hadn’t had one in so long. She picked it up, and the beads felt right in her hands.

  “Tire is fixed. You find anything?” Tace asked from the doorway.

  She jumped and turned, her shoulders hunching. “This.”

  Tace looked at the beads. “I’m sure she would’ve wanted somebody to have it, you know? Somebody to use it.”

  Sami nodded and slipped the rosary into her pocket. “Yeah. I would’ve wanted somebody to pray over mine, if I’d left it somewhere.” She carefully put Albert’s letters back into the drawer where they belonged. “I’ll check the other bedroom.”

  “I’m going to go scout through the shop for anything, and I found a shotgun in the truck with the body. There was a full box of shells in the glovebox, too. Hit the kitchen after the other bedroom, would you?” Tace looked her over, nodded, and turned on his heel.

  She breathed in the quiet room that had probably seen the Flangstons through decades. “I hope you’re together now,” she whispered into the silence. The time of houses and generations and tradition was past. Families like the Flangstons were in the past. Life was different now, but maybe someday there would be nice families raising kids in a house like this one again. She said a quick prayer for all of them and turned for the other bedroom.

  The living needed supplies.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Sanity is for wimps.

  —Dr. Vinnie Wellington

  Sami’s shoulder ached and her head pounded when they arrived back at Vanguard around three in the afternoon. The pain pill had definitely worn off. Raze and Jax ran outside the fence to reach them almost immediately.

  “Status?” Jax barked, bruises along his jawline and down his neck.

  Tace stretched from the truck and crossed to lift her out.

  “I’m fine,” she protested halfheartedly, wanting to snuggle into his neck and sleep for a month.

  “Right. We had to stop to change the tire and then find supplies to stitch her up,” Tace said, his wrist bandaged. “Then we took back roads to avoid detection, and now here we are.”

  The sun blasted down, and Sami tried unsuccessfully to swallow. “Did we lose any more soldiers besides Barbara?”

  “We lost three total and the Mercs lost two,” Raze said, yanking a tarp Tace had found off the weapons and explosives. “Several wounded in the infirmary.”

  “I’ll see to them after I get Sami settled,” Tace said, starting for the fence.

  “I have inner-territory doctors with them. Right now I need you in the war rooms to strategize our attack on the Bunker,” Jax said, motioning for several men to fetch the explosives. “We go tomorrow night.”

  Sami nodded. “The president will be sending men to retaliate, Jax. We’ll have to go before they can come up with a plan.”

  “We’re done for the day, Jax. Sami and I will be in the war rooms first thing tomorrow morning to plan.” Tace didn’t wait for a response. “You guys get Barbara’s body, and let us know when Derek wants the funeral.”

  Sami paused. “Oh, God. Derek. I should—”

  “It’s my job,” Jax said from behind her. “I’ll talk to him.”

  Sami snuggled into Tace’s chest, allowing his strength to comfort her for the moment. She’d lost so many people, it was surprising it still hurt so much. Yet the mission continued on, and she had to think, damn it. She blew out warm air. “We’ll need to leave late afternoon or early evening.”

  “Not we,” Tace countered, striding toward the fence and going through the opening. “You’re not coming to the Bunker.”

  She looked up at his strong jawline. “Yes, I am.”

  “You were shot a few hours ago,” he said, crossing the parking lot and heading inside Vanguard, where cooler air brushed her face. Somebody had replaced the glass door with one covered in unicorn stickers.

  Sami stiffened, and pain lanced down her arm. “You were stabbed.”

  “Not bad enough to need stitches,” he said, climbing the stairs.

  “I’m the only one who has been to the Bunker,” Sami said, her eyelids closing for a moment. Man, her head hurt. What she wouldn’t give for an ordinary little aspirin. “I’m going on the mission, Tace.” From day one, she’d known deep down that she’d have to return at some point.

  “You can give us the schematics tomorrow morning.” Tace strode down the hallway and shoved open her door with his shoulder. “I keep forgetting you need a lock.”

  She shook her head, her stomach aching. “I’m a soldier in Vanguard, Tace.” It was the first time in her life she really fit in and had found a calling. “You either get that or you don’t.” Not once had she asked him to be anybody other than who he was. Or rather, who he was becoming. Now she had to save him.

  “You need to heal that shoulder.”

  “I’m the only one who can hack into the system and get the data we need,” she said. “If the computers are still functional with generators, and I think they are, then I’m needed.”

  He paused and kicked the door shut. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  She leaned up and nuzzled beneath his jaw. “That’s ’cause you think I’m a badass soldier. You should see me hack into a secured computer system.”

  He kicked off his boots, still holding her against his broad chest. “I’ve never considered computers sexy before right now.” Without missing a beat, he strode across the room and sat on the bed. “I’m fighting the dual sides of myself.”

  She blinked. “That’s awfully self-aware.”

  “I know, right?” He nuzzled along her ear.

  She shivered. “Talk it out.”

  “All right. Part of me wants to see you in your glory hacking, I really do. The other half wants to tie you to the bed where you’ll be safe until we get back.” He sounded more thoughtful than determined at this point. “Both avenues hold merit for me.”

  “Ah.” His hard thighs heated her butt, and she shifted to get more comfortable. Desire warmed through her, but she had to concentrate. “Not for nothin’, but maybe you’re the one who should sit this out.” She braced for his temper.

  “Yeah, I’ve thought about that.”

  “Geez, you’re awfully reasonable all of a sudden,” she whispered.

  “Eh.” He lifted a shoulder and nearly dislodged her. “I’m sure it’s temporary. I’m feeling a momentary relief from all the damn emotions that keep taking me over. Guess I should try to be reasonable as long as I can.”

  There was the old Tace—or at least a semblance of him.

  He cleared his throat. “With the people you studied—what was the progression of the illness?”

  Her heart dropped. “It was quick, Tace. One day passing out, the next . . .”

  “I figured.” He sighed and kissed her forehead. “Each attack has been more sudden and worse than the last. But you saw this enzyme or whatever it was work?”

  “Yeah. It was like an EpiPen for somebody suffering an allergic reaction. Very quick.” She tried to reassure him. “We’ll get the cure, shoot it into your ass, and you’ll develop some sort of antibodies that’ll make you stop rejecting the vitamin B concoction. I mean, I think. I saw it work but don’t really know the science behind it.” She should’ve paid more attention.

  “My ass?” he asked.

  “Yep. That’s where they put it.” She reached up to cup his jaw. “It’ll be all right. I promise.”

  “Well then.” He leaned down and captured her lips, warmth and promise in his kiss.

  She moaned and opened for him, her tongue dueling with his. He turned and gently, so gently, placed her on the bed and removed her clothes. Her body rioted, and her brain short-circuited. “I don’t want soft.”

  “You’re injured.” He swept both palms down her arms, avoiding her new
stitches.

  “We’re always injured,” she said, avoiding the bruises on his neck and the wrapping on his wrist. Oh, they had shit to deal with, but she needed to get lost for a while. Pain was constant and pleasure rare. Losing Barbara had left Sami’s chest aching, and she needed to run away from death for the moment. “Please. Let’s just forget reality for a short time.”

  He shucked his clothes, those dark eyes watching her the entire time. “Tomorrow is gonna be dangerous.”

  “Yeah,” she said softly. Attacking the president was risky, while taking on the Bunker was downright insane. “Not all of us are going to make it back—we need to know that.” But Tace had to survive. Taking the risk for him was worth it.

  “You’ll make it back,” he murmured, leaning over her, his big body bracketed on his elbows. “I promise. No matter what, you’ll get home safely.”

  “Home.” She ran both hands through his hair, her body instantly primed and ready for him. “I feel like this is home.” Finally.

  He grinned and nipped her bottom lip, donning a condom and settling himself between her legs. His warmth soothed her, and his nearness ignited all sorts of tingles. “Don’t get too attached to LA, sweetheart. We’re gonna have to move and soon.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the place,” she murmured, vulnerability suddenly swamping her.

  His head lifted just a bit. “You’re home to me, too.” With the soft words, he slowly entered her, filling her completely.

  She breathed out, letting her body adjust. Tears pricked the back of her eyes. Loss had become a constant in the post-Scorpius world, but the idea of losing Tace Justice hurt somewhere deeper inside than she’d ever known. “Tace.”

  “It’ll be all right.” He repeated her words, kissing her, promise and hope in his kiss. And something else. Something concrete and just for her.

  He started to move, and she dug her nails into his back, taking all he had to give. She climbed high, much more than her body engaged with him. Taken over by him. Heat flashed and uncoiled inside her. She arched and cried out his name, ripples of pure pleasure assailing her.