by Lolita Lopez
“Or perhaps he wanted to protect you,” Gage argued, still hidden in the darkness. “Families keep secrets for all kinds of reasons. A man protecting his only child is a good reason to keep his mouth shut.”
“Protect me from what?”
“Your home was attacked and overrun by zombies,” Gage stated matter-of-factly. “Haven’t you wondered why? It’s possible that someone—an enemy—has heard the same story that Max did today. Maybe they want you dead because you’re a risk to their endgame. Maybe they wanted to see if you’re really immune and then kidnap you for their own nefarious reasons.”
Emma shrank back as Gage described the ugly possibilities and pressed into Max, seeking out his heat and protection. He willingly gave it, drawing her in closer and draping his arm around her shoulders.
“Emma, may I see your scar?”
“Um…” She shifted anxiously in her seat. “I suppose.”
Roman left his seat and came around to their side of the table. He crouched down in front of Emma who had twisted in her seat to give him better access to her arm. She seemed reluctant to let go of Max’s hand but she needed it to roll up the sleeve of her shirt.
Gage stepped out of the shadows for a better look at the scar that Roman was prodding and studying. “Well?”
Roman glanced back at Gage and nodded. “Yes.”
“Yes what?” Max demanded, not liking this situation at all. Roman and Gage knew more about Emma and her antibodies than they were admitting. It set him on edge and had him hastily planning all the ways he could get her out of this building and off the post as quickly as possible. It would be easy enough to hide her if he could just get her away from here. The humans outside the wire—her friends and neighbors—would do anything to keep her safe.
“This scar could have come from a type of homemade inoculation,” Roman explained. “Centuries ago, humans practiced variolation. They would cut the arm of the healthy patient and smear infected pus from the wounds of a smallpox victim into the cut. It provided immunity to the disease.”
Max pieced together the information Emma had provided during her interrogation. What if her pregnant mother, like her pregnant grandmother, had been attacked? What if her mother had been unable to fight the virus like her grandmother? What if her father and grandfather had decided to take a calculated risk to protect Emma from the constantly changing Zed virus by performing a crude inoculation with the version that had infected her mother?
Emma seemed dazed by Roman’s theory. As if a step ahead, she asked, “What makes pregnant women special? That’s your point, isn’t it? That my grandmother and mother were both pregnant when they were exposed?”
“I don’t know,” Roman admitted, “but I want to find out.” He stood and moved back to his seat. “It seems likely that some heightened biological response in some pregnant women during exposure to the Zed virus may make them immune. Your grandmother must have fought off the disease or reshaped and changed it enough that it didn’t hurt her or her son. Maybe she was a lifelong carrier, like some tuberculosis patients who never grow ill.”
“But my mother wasn’t strong enough?” Emma looked as if she were trying to puzzle out the answers. “That’s what you think, right? You think my mother was bitten or scratched, became ill and died because her body didn’t react the same way my grandmother’s did.”
“Yes, and maybe your father or grandfather decided to give you another immunity boost by inoculating you with the infected pus from your mother’s Zed wound or her saliva…,” Roman’s voice trailed off as he caught sight of Emma’s horrified face.
“Maybe this isn’t the best time for the gory details, Roman,” Max snapped. He reached for Emma and drew his clearly distraught mate into his arms. “She’s been through hell the last week. She lost her home. Last night, she watched her men run out of the house to respond to the scene of a bombing where her friends and neighbors were hurt and killed. This morning, one of you SICO fucks tried to rough her up. Now you’re telling her that she has these antibodies in her blood and that someone tried to kill her for them and that you want to use her as a guinea pig for your experiments. I don’t think she needs to have her head filled with all this awful shit right now.”
“Max is right,” Gage agreed, his expression one of concern for Emma who now sobbed softly into her hands. “She needs some time to adjust to the news before—”
“Before what?” Max seized on Gage’s remark, his stomach already cold with dread.
“Before we ask her to come back to Camp Victory to help us create a vaccine for our military,” Gage said.
Max’s hold on Emma tightened. “It’s not happening.”
“Max, she could be the key to stopping the spread of the virus,” Roman asserted. “She could save untold numbers of lives.”
“I won’t have her locked up in one of your labs and used as a guinea pig!”
“That’s not the way this will go,” Roman insisted. “She would be invited to Camp Victory with you or Jack or both of you. I’ll allow one or both of you to be with her at all times. She won’t be quarantined or kept in the lab facilities. She’ll be allowed to move freely within the base.”
Max didn’t believe Roman for one second. “She. Is. Not. Going.”
“Max,” Emma said gently, her small hand on his chest. Gazing up at him with those wide, soft eyes, she said, “If I can help protect other people…”
“Emma,” he said, his voice thick. “I won’t risk your life.”
“There is no risk,” Roman maintained. “She’ll be safe with me.”
Max had seen SICO squads at work enough times to know that wasn’t true. If there was even the smallest chance that Emma presented a risk to the cyborg population, they would kill her. Rising to his feet, he said, “We’re done here. It’s not happening.”
“Max, I’ve included you in these proceedings as a courtesy,” Gage stated. “I’ve extended an invitation to you and Jack to escort Emma to Camp Victory because of the many years of honorable service you’ve given to our cause. But,” Gage said in a voice edged with warning, “that invitation and courtesy will be rescinded if you choose to be uncooperative. I shouldn’t have to remind you that I have many options at my disposal for bringing Emma into our custody.”
Max stepped in front of Emma, blocking her with his body and wishing all the while that Gray had stayed. He could have used a second set of hands right now. “Don’t threaten my mate, Gage.”
“I’m not threatening,” Gage coolly replied. The yet to that remark remained unspoken but implied.
As if sensing they were about to come to blows, Emma stepped up beside him and placed her hand in his. She interlaced their fingers and looked up at him, her eyes silently pleading that he behave. Turning back to Gage, she said, “Max and I need to discuss this with Jack. The three of us will make a decision together—as a family.”
The anger surging through him dissipated at Emma’s words. Together. A family.
“That seems fair,” Roman said, inserting himself in front of Gage. Like Emma, he seemed to want to keep the peace. “Jack is in the field until when?”
“Unknown,” Max replied, his hard stare fixed on Gage. “We might see him tomorrow or three months from now.”
“I’ll make sure he’s back on this base in seven days,” Gage stated. “You have a week to make your decision.”
Max figured that was the best they were going to get.
“General Gage…sir?” Emma uncertainly addressed the SICO officer.
“Yes?” His hard expression had relaxed as he stared down at her. Max suspected there might be a soft streak to the hard-ass general, and something about Emma evoked it.
“May I keep my radio? I mean, it’s not complete or functional yet, but it will be soon. I don’t want to run afoul of any rules.”
Gage glanced at Max. “The wavelength scramblers have been removed?”
Max winced as Emma’s attention snapped back to him. When Emma had come home
from quarantine, he had been more interested in introducing her to their new home and reconnecting with her. Then chaos had struck and all thoughts of telling her about his duty to report her interference with communications had fled.
“Yes,” Max confirmed. “They were pulled three days ago.”
Next to him, Emma hid her true reaction to that news well. The corners of her mouth barely twitched. When she got him alone, she would let him have it. Of that, Max was absolutely sure.
“Emma, you may use your new radio whenever and however you would like. We will be monitoring your communications.”
Accepting the terms, she nodded and murmured her thanks. Tugging on Emma’s hand, he led her out of the room, down the hall and out of Building Twelve. More than once, he had to remind himself to slow down so he wasn’t dragging her along behind him. Her shorter legs couldn’t keep pace with his longer ones.
Once they cleared the last checkpoint for the jail, he glanced down at her and gave her hand a squeeze. She smiled up at him, her expression a mixture of relief and fear. The knowledge that she was afraid hit him like a punch to the gut.
I don’t know how to protect her. It was a difficult thing to admit, but it was true. Despite his wide network of friends and contacts and all the many, many favors owed to him, no one would stand against Gage and the rest of the SICO unit. Once Gage made it known that Emma had Zed antibodies in her blood, all those old friendships and loyalties and debts owed would vanish. It would be everyone for themselves.
“Is this where you work?” Emma’s gentle voice interrupted his troubled thoughts.
Snapped back to reality, he glanced at their surroundings and realized he’d brought Emma to his command post. Strictly speaking, she wasn’t allowed to be here.
Strictly speaking, he didn’t give a shit today.
“Yes.” He guided her into his office and closed the door behind her. For added measure, he locked it. Taking hold of her shoulders, he gently pushed her back against the door and searched her face. “Are you okay?” He looked her over, taking in her arms and legs and searching for any sign of a bruise or scratch. “Did they hurt you?”
“I’m fine. They were actually very nice to me.” She swallowed and shrugged. “I guess that’s because I have something they want.”
“Do you believe them, Emma? Is it possible that your grandmother really was bitten while pregnant? That your mother was bitten while pregnant and died?” He touched her arm where the scar was hidden beneath fabric. “You really don’t remember if your father or your grandfather cut you?”
“I don’t.” She rubbed her forehead. “Maybe…maybe it was so traumatic I blocked it out?”
“That happens sometimes. I’ve seen soldiers who blackout and can’t remember anything they’ve done.” He considered a second possibility. “Or maybe you were drugged. Your family had a hell of a stockpile of weapons and medicine. They could have given you something to knock you out so you wouldn’t remember anything.” He didn’t want to imagine the horror that her father and grandfather had witnessed or the terrible decisions they must have had to make if her mother had been bitten while pregnant. “You said there were stories about your grandmother. Do you know of anyone who might know if they were true?”
Emma gave it some thought. “Maybe the Alvarez family? Avery’s father is older than mine by ten or fifteen years. His father and mother were physicians from before the outbreak, properly trained and educated. They knew my grandparents.”
“Are either of Avery’s grandparents alive?”
“Her grandfather is.”
“Would he talk to us?”
“It’s not us I’m worried about,” Emma replied nervously. “What if the SICO team draws the same conclusion I just did? What if they go after them and arrest and interrogate them?”
“It’s a strong possibility.”
“I have to warn them!”
Max grasped her shoulders. “Emma, did you not hear what Gage said? They’re going to monitor your communications. He’s actively looking for a reason to take you. Don’t give him one! If you run off and warn your friends, he’ll have you picked up for sharing classified information. You’ll be taken away from Jack and me and tossed in a cell. They’ll drag you away to one of their black sites, and we might never see you again.”
“But my friends—”
“I know you care about your friends, Emma, but we are your family now. Me. Jack. You.” He tried to make her understand. “Our family comes before anything else. The three of us are the priority now.”
She nodded eventually. “Max, it’s just…it’s a lot to take in, you know?”
“I know.” He brushed his knuckles along her cheek. “If Jack were here, he’d know exactly what to say to make you feel better.”
“You’re here, and I’m glad you’re here.” She leaned into his touch, seemingly unfazed by his grimy fingernails and dirty skin. Holding his gaze, she asked, “What do you want to say?”
“I want to tell you that I won’t let anyone hurt you. I want to tell you that I’ll keep you safe, even if it means I have to steal you away from here and disappear into the Outlands.”
“Max,” she said, her voice filled with awe. Had she doubted he would go that far? Clasping his wrist between her small hands, she murmured, “We would never be safe outside these fences. The places I might disappear to are hostile to cyborgs, and I won’t leave you or Jack behind.” Sighing, she added, “Even if we did find a community that would take us in, those SICO guys will just play dirty. All they’ll have to do is let it slip that I’m immune to the Zed virus. If they put a bounty on our heads, we wouldn’t last a day.”
“Probably,” he agreed, “but I’ll die before I let anyone put a hand on you.”
“No one is going to die.” She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his hand. “Somehow—some way—we’ll figure out a way to survive.”
Max desperately wanted that to be true, but he feared what would happen if SICO took her off the Outpost. Camp Victory was their home field, and he and Jack would be the outsiders there.
“So you took down my scramblers, huh?”
Max had the decency to look guilty. “I had to report the, Emma. They might have interfered with Outpost communications or put my men at risk.”
“What if you put my friends at risk? The Chain only works because people feel safe using the radio channels those scramblers protected.”
“I’m sorry, Emma. I had to prioritize on this one. You know that I would do anything for you—but I can’t put men like Jack in danger.”
She eyed him with disappointment, and it gutted him. After a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, she sighed. “I understand why you did it. I don’t like it, but I understand.”
“I didn’t like doing it. I really didn’t. I thought about keeping them out of my reports because you only barely mentioned them. Then I worried that if something happened in the future, you would be blamed. I couldn’t take that chance.”
She seemed to grasp that he needed her to absolve him of his sin. “We’re okay, Max. I’m annoyed with you, but I’m not angry.”
Very gently, Emma unclasped and lowered her hands. She stepped away from him, and he watched as she investigated his work space. Her perplexed expression amused him. “What is it?”
She trailed her fingertips along the edge of his desk. “I just have a hard time imagining you being happy in here.” She glanced at him as if to gauge whether she had overstepped the mark. “This,” she gestured to his battle rattle, “is how I’m used to seeing you. This,” she pointed to his chair, “looks impossibly wrong.”
“It’s taken some time to get used to,” he gruffly admitted. Moving to his locker, he removed and stowed his gear. “This is actually the type of assignment men fight for,” he said, “but I’d be lying if I said I don’t miss being in the field.”
“Will Jack ever take an assignment like this?”
Max had to catch himself before he sai
d something that would upset her. Jack wasn’t the type of soldier suited for an office. He was a sniper, and he belonged outside the wire. It was in his DNA. They’d had many talks in their years together, and Jack had always made it clear that he wanted to die doing his job, not pushing paper in an office.
“No,” he said finally. “Jack is happy doing what he does best. He might move into training full-time in a few decades, but for now, he’s where he needs to be.”
“Decades?”
Max nodded. “We age differently than your kind. We used to have serums that helped slow aging and aided cell regeneration. We lost the capability to produce them at a high rate so they’re on limited rationing now.”
“What does that mean for you?”
Catching the worry in her voice, he assured her, “Not what you’re probably thinking. I’m not going to wake up wrinkled and gray tomorrow. The three of us will likely age at a similar rate.”
Emma hopped up onto his desk as he dropped into his chair. “So how old are you?”
“Older than you,” he said, deliberately obfuscating.
She narrowed her eyes and playfully poked his shoulder. “Cradle robber!”
He snatched her hand and kissed each fingertip. “Guilty as charged.”
“I’d lean in to kiss you properly,” she said, “but you stink like diesel and worse.”
He smiled at her dainty, wrinkled nose. “I won’t tell you about the worse.”
Her expression turned sad. “Was it bad, Max?”
“Yes.” He wouldn’t lie to her. “Your friend Leila lost a brother last night.”
Her face fell. “Which one?”
“Lance.”
“Oh no.” Emma looked as if she might cry.
Something sparked off inside him. Jealousy? He bitterly hated that he felt something so incredibly inappropriate, but his possessiveness toward Emma was a feeling he had never encountered. He was still trying to figure out how to navigate these new and complicated relationship waters. “Were you close to him?”