At Any Cost Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Fawkes, K. M.

She stared at him, chest heaving, her expression flickering between rage and hope, and he stared back, wondering how much she trusted him. Hoping she trusted him enough.

  Finally, her face settled on hope and she opened her mouth to speak.

  “Escape?” she whispered.

  He nodded, feeling so elated that he could have kissed her. She was going to listen to him—and for now, that was all he needed.

  “Escape,” he whispered back. “You might think I joined Green’s team, but I promise you that I’m just as much on your side now as I was when I was sleeping in that cell next to you. I accepted the role with Green for a reason. I did it for all of us.”

  She looked doubtful, but he could see that she wanted to believe him—wanted to believe that there was hope—and he quickly bent closer to her face, lowering his voice even further. He didn’t know if there were cameras in here, and if there were, he hoped it looked like they were making out, rather than plotting an escape.

  “He made me an architect. Gave me blueprints to redesign. And I’ve managed to get the blueprints to the whole base. I know everything about this place now. I know how many guards there are and where they go. I know what their hours are. Where we can find supplies, where we can find the things they took from us. I even know where the exits are. I’ve got a plan for getting out of here.”

  “Really?” she asked, her eyes shining with tears.

  “Really. But I had to agree to work with Green to get all of that. You see that, right? I had to get access to figure out how we were going to do it.”

  Her lower lip began to quiver, but she nodded, and a moment later her features were firm again, her voice low and stony.

  “There was another raid today,” she said softly. “We went into a different town, found more survivors than before. Many of them were brought here, but there was a boy—couldn’t have been more than ten—who gave the soldiers trouble. They shot him, Garrett. Just a kid, a kid who didn’t know better, and then—” She put her hand sharply to her mouth to stop herself, and he could see the pain in her eyes.

  Her son had been around that age. He hadn’t been shot by soldiers, but she must have felt an immediate affection for that child. And the soldiers had killed him like it didn’t matter.

  Any kinship Garrett had felt with the men melted into thin air at that. That was who they were. They might have been amusing company while he was here, but that didn’t make them anything more than killers.

  And Green was encouraging it all.

  In that moment, he made an adjustment to his plan. They’d burn the place when they left. As far as Garrett was concerned, Green and all his murdering psychopaths could burn. They’d earned it.

  “They killed Raoul,” Alice continued after a moment. “He attacked the soldiers after they killed that boy, really went after them. He’d found a knife in one of the houses and he started slicing at them, trying to kill them and then…” Her eyes met Garrett’s. “They broke his legs to get him to the ground, and then just shot him in the street. Shot him like he didn’t matter, like his life didn’t matter.”

  He pulled her into a hug, then, his heart breaking for the disgraced soldier he’d only known for a day. The man had had more integrity than Green’s entire team combined, and he hadn’t deserved any of this. But beyond that was the guilt. Today. They’d just killed Raoul today. If Garrett had been faster, if he’d come up with a plan and a way to execute it sooner, he could have saved him. He could have saved them all by now.

  “I swear I won’t let one more of you die,” he said, burying his face in her hair. “I’ll get us out of this.”

  She turned her face into his chest. “If you have a plan, Garrett, act on it soon. I don’t know how much longer any of us can last. I don’t know how much more I have in me.”

  A noise sounded in the hallway, and the two of them jumped apart just before two of Green’s soldiers came strolling in.

  Garrett realized immediately how this would look—and that it would get Alice in trouble.

  “Never do anything like that again!” he screamed, aiming his words at her. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  She cringed back in shock, her face turning angry, but then her gaze slid over to the soldiers and back to Garrett, and she looked down and nodded.

  “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir. I’ll just be on my way then, shall I?”

  “See that you go right back to the prison,” he snapped, meaning that in more ways than one. “Don’t stop, don’t get any food, and spend the rest of your night in your cell. I don’t want to see your face out here again.”

  She nodded, peeked up at him from beneath her hair, and then turned and pushed the mop bucket quickly out of the room. Garrett watched her go, his chest heaving in fake rage, and then looked up at the soldiers. These two, at least, he could occupy until she reached safety. If you could call a cell—which these soldiers had the key to—safe.

  “Bitch nearly pushed me into the dirty water in her bucket,” he snarled.

  The soldiers merely laughed, like this was all some big joke, and then told him they were there to escort him to dinner—and then to his room. Which was more like a cell unto itself, he thought, considering he was locked in every night.

  One more problem to be solved before he could find his way out of this place.

  “Just let me gather my things,” he told them, turning back toward the kitchen. He strolled toward the table where he’d been working, taking his time, with the thought that it would give Alice more time to get out of the way.

  Once he was at the table, he bent over and started shuffling the papers randomly, trying to look like he was actually cleaning up. After several moments of faking it, though, he assumed he’d pushed things as far as he could and finally started forming a stack with the papers.

  He was just bending down, reaching for a pencil that had fallen under the table, when he saw the key ring. It was hanging from a hook under the sink, which, like many industrial sinks, sat over an open space rather than a cupboard.

  Someone at some point had thought that open space was an ideal hiding spot. They must have attached a hook to a non-water-bearing part of the sink. Green had either had it put there or found it, and thought it would work for storing the ring.

  Garrett could see that it was the same ring he’d seen so many times before—with all the room keys, and the other. The skeleton key. The one he thought would unlock the larger doors. If he was right, and this compound was like the one where he’d gone to school, that one key would unlock all the larger doors.

  Even the ones on the cells.

  He straightened, feeling good enough to dance—and stopping himself only because he knew who was watching him. He’d discovered the keys, and now had the way to not only get his friends, but also get them all out of here.

  Now all he needed was a distraction.

  Chapter 22

  The next night, after another long day of pretending to work while he was actually studying the blueprint of the grounds, Garrett was surprised to find an invitation waiting for him in his room—to a dinner in the officer’s mess. He’d never been to dinner with Green before, being more inclined to eat in the cafeteria by himself. And whatever this officer’s mess was, it made him nervous. He could only imagine the types of people Green had elevated to the label of officer—and what they’d done to achieve that goal.

  Either for Green or just for the pleasure of it.

  Gritting his teeth, however, he slipped into the clean shirt Green had sent up for him several days before, rewound the bandages on his hand—which was feeling much more useful now that it was out of its cast—and walked back out the door of his room to make his way down the stairs and toward Green’s quarters.

  He was halfway down the stairs when he realized that he’d walked right out of his door, without any help from the guards. Which meant his door hadn’t been locked.

  A thrill of excitement went through him at the idea. True, it could have meant nothing
at all. Just an oversight by the soldiers, who tended toward lazy in any case, or maybe even one-time thing. But it made him feel suddenly more confident that everything was going to be okay. If he was allowed out of his room on his own, rather than being locked in, it could mean that the soldiers—that Green himself—were starting to trust him.

  And trust led to sloppiness. And quite possibly to escape.

  He strode quickly down the remaining steps and turned left at the bottom of the staircase, making directly for Green’s room. According to the invitation, the officer’s mess was through the door right next to Green’s personal quarters, which should have made it…

  Ah. Garrett spotted the door in question—easily identified by the chants coming out of it—and slowed his steps a bit. Was he really ready for this? Yes, he’d managed to fit in for the last two weeks, and had gained quite a reputation among the soldiers for his stories, but was he truly ready for a dinner with them? Something about it made this feel as if it was a true act of taking their side. As if he was truly joining their team, just by having dinner with them.

  He remembered Alice’s eyes when she’d accused him of being a traitor—and then the look on her face when he’d told her he’d only done it so they could find a way out of there. And finally, he thought of her telling him that if he had a plan, he needed to act on it quickly. Quickly enough to save those of them that were left.

  And that right there was all the motivation he needed to keep walking forward. Because he wasn’t doing this for himself—and he certainly wasn’t doing it because he was joining Green’s crew. No, he was doing it for the other prisoners. Alice. Manny. Julia. Maybe even Kevin, if the guy could manage to accept help.

  He wasn’t a traitor; he was a hero. He’d never thought of himself that way before, and even now it sat strangely on him, like a coat that didn’t quite fit. But those people needed a hero, and he was the one best placed to fill those shoes. He had the map. He knew where the keys were. Perhaps tonight he’d figure out how to create the distraction he needed to finish this.

  He ducked through the door and came to a stop just inside, looking around. The place had been a meeting room once, he thought, and would have served that purpose better. Now it was packed with picnic tables that didn’t fit—or match—and there were too many men in here. In reality, he only counted ten, but it was a small, crowded room, and none of them had bathed recently.

  Garrett held his breath, tried to smile, and looked for Green. The sooner he figured out what the general wanted, the better.

  “Floyd!” a voice boomed out from the other side of the room. “Welcome!”

  Green came striding out from a group of soldiers, a grin plastered across his face and his hands held out to Garrett.

  “Boys!” he called, bringing the meeting to order. “You all know Garrett Floyd. I’m sure you’ve all spent some time with him by now.

  A couple of chuckles sounded out around the room, and Green nodded in a satisfied manner, as if he’d set the entire thing up on purpose.

  Arrogant bastard, Garrett thought. The man was beyond conceited, acting as if this entire situation had played out exactly how he’d always wanted it to. As if he’d made it happen himself. When in reality he was taking advantage of something that had to be the worst situation humanity could possibly have faced, with millions of deaths occurring within weeks and the fate of the United States itself hanging in the balance.

  And yet this man was here celebrating with his so-called officers, as if everything was right with the world, and none of that mattered.

  The man sickened Garrett, and for a moment he felt like pulling his hands back, turning, and running for his life—away from the influence of this monster. Away from this sick fantasy, and the idea of repopulating the world through rape and forced labor.

  He didn’t, though. This was where he had to be, at least for tonight.

  Tomorrow, he could think about running.

  “I’m just glad to have been of service,” he said blandly, allowing that general answer to reflect on everything he’d done for the past two weeks, from working on blueprints to telling the soldiers jokes and keeping Green happy.

  Green nodded wisely. “Well, you’ve been a wonderful addition to the team, just like I said you would be. And you’ve fit in so well. I congratulate you for that. You have truly made our future brighter. I have a reward for you.”

  “A reward?” Garrett asked weakly. This wasn’t a man who gave rewards—at least not the sorts of rewards Garrett wanted anything to do with.

  “That’s right,” Green said, grinning. “For your service, I’d like to give you one full night with any female prisoner of your choice. I’ve heard you’ve been working closely with the girl Julia. Perhaps you’d like to get closer to her, huh?”

  He waggled his eyebrows at Garrett, who was having trouble keeping his hands in his pockets. By God how he wanted to punch the man. Absolutely pummel him, for thinking it was all that easy. For even suggesting such a thing.

  Green mistook his silence for indecision, though, and quickly came up with another suggestion.

  “Or Alice? She’s not as clean as Julia, but she may be more pliable, eh? And you’ve spent some time with her in the cells. Perhaps you’ve already started something, my boy?” He took the opportunity to elbow Garrett suggestively, and this time Garrett actually did step back, his hands forming into fists in his pockets.

  He was going to kill the man for even suggesting such a thing. To think that—

  Then he realized that Green had given him the perfect answer. He’d been looking for a distraction. Something big enough to cover his escape with the rest of the prisoners. And causing a distraction would be much easier with Alice there to help him.

  “Alice,” he said firmly. “The woman gave me some trouble a few days ago and I’d like to give her a good seeing to.”

  He could hardly finish the sentence, he was so disgusted by it, but it was a brilliant idea. Alice was incredibly clever—and she was desperate. He might not be able to figure out how to cause a disruption in the schedule of the compound, but he was positive she’d be able to think of something. And if she was already with him, she’d be one less person he had to worry about getting out of a cage.

  Green laughed, nodding like a sage old man, and slapped Garrett on the back.

  “Good choice, my boy, good choice. I’ll have her sent to your quarters later. I ask only that you don’t hurt her too badly. She’s a good worker and knows the area, and we use her often for her knowledge. She does have a smart mouth on her, though. Killed one of my men, did she tell you that? She’s lucky to have gotten away with her own life. The day she stops being useful, she’ll lose it.”

  Garrett hid his grimace at the casual reference to Alice’s death, and slipped back out of the door, his mind racing as he started building his plans for their escape. Once Alice arrived, he would take a moment to brief her on his plan, grab his things—and the maps—and get out of there.

  Before he went to his room, of course, he had one stop to make. If tonight was the night of the escape, then there were certain people who needed to know what was going to happen. And telling them ahead of time should make the actual escape quicker—and with luck, more successful.

  He could only pray that with his knowledge, and Alice’s brain, they could make it work.

  Chapter 23

  Garret walked back to his room half-dazed and half-terrified at what had just happened—and at what was going to happen that very night. Then, after some thinking about it, he came to the very solid conclusion that his first thought had been right. This was a brilliant opportunity. The very opportunity he’d been waiting for, honestly. He was going to have Alice alone with him—and not for any nefarious purpose.

  Or for a very nefarious person, he supposed, depending on who you were talking to. It just wasn’t at all the purpose Green thought it was.

  At the thought, his steps—and breath—quickened, and he made his way more
hastily toward the stairway that led up to his room. He might have been wrong about the need for a distraction. Maybe it would just take him and Alice being in the same place at the same time, so they could coordinate their efforts.

  And if that was true, it meant tonight was the night. Which meant he had to be ready. He had to have everything in place.

  He hit the staircase and went darting up the stairs, hoping no one was watching him—but preparing an excuse just in case they were—and reached his own room at a dash.

  He burst through the door, slammed it behind him, and rued for the first time the lack of a working lock on the inside. After much searching, he’d found that the only lock was actually a deadbolt that only had an opening on the outside—so that the guards could lock him in. When it came to him locking them out, he’d never had the choice.

  It had made storing the things he’d been gathering more difficult. He’d been terrified that the soldiers would come into his room and toss it while he was out, just to see what he was doing. But he’d also been thinking of them as real soldiers. These days he didn’t hold any such fears. These guys would never even have bothered to come in here and toss the room. It was too much effort—and probably outside of what they thought of their responsibilities.

  Still, a lock would have been really convenient right now. If he and Alice were going to scheme in peace, he didn’t want to have to worry about someone else walking in on them while they were at it.

  He quickly went to his bed—yes, the most obvious place ever, but the place he’d chosen for exactly that reason—and stuck his hand down into the sheets, going right to the foot of the bed. There he bent his wrist so that he could reach down over the bed, to where the sheets folded around it and formed a natural pocket.

  And there the lists and lists he’d made of the guards’ schedules, and the blueprints of the entire complex. Or rather, the copies he’d made of said blueprints.

  He’d known right away that he couldn’t take the actual prints; the guard at the factory would have noticed immediately if he’d failed to return them, and of all the things you didn’t return, the map to the entire property would have been about the stupidest choice. “No, Mr. Guard, I’m not planning on leaving the place. I don’t know why the blueprints to the entire complex are missing, it couldn’t have been me.”