Outbreak

by Tarah Benner

  Hitting what? I wonder. Clearly this guy has never ventured outside the compound. It’s just empty desert for miles.

  “She does fine on all terrestrial surfaces, so don’t worry about going off road. Commander Pierce told me how far you’d be traveling, so you should be fine with the fuel that’s in the main tank.

  “If not, you’ve still got plenty in the auxiliary tank to get you there and back, and you can always fuel up at the Recon checkpoints. It’s an algae-based biofuel, and this baby is pretty efficient. But if you run into trouble out there, just hit your SOS button.”

  He points to a red button on the dashboard encased in a tiny plastic cover. “Even if the comms are out of range, we should still receive this signal. That’ll flag someone in Recon to send out another rover to come get you.”

  I want to laugh out loud. I doubt very much that Jayden would send out a rescue party if Harper and I got stranded out on the Fringe. Hell, that would probably make her week.

  “That’s about it,” he says cheerfully. “You should be good to go.”

  “Thanks,” I mutter, getting an odd surge of power as I palm the steering wheel.

  The man leaves, and I just sit there staring out the windshield, lost in thought.

  When I finally look up into the rearview mirror, Harper is striding through the hangar toward me.

  As soon as I see her face, my heart plummets. I jump out of the vehicle and wait for her to reach me.

  “Everything okay?” I ask as soon as she’s within earshot. I already know it’s not, but I’m hoping she’s just worried about deployment.

  She purses her lips and looks away — an expression I’ve only ever seen when Harper is trying to conceal her panic.

  “What is it?”

  She takes a deep breath, eyes darting around as though she’s trying not to cry. “I messaged Celdon that I wanted to meet up and say goodbye, but he never answered. I messaged him three times. Then I went to Systems to find him, but his supervisor said he didn’t show up for work today.”

  “Relax,” I say, reaching out to squeeze her arm. “Celdon’s fine. I just saw him.”

  Glancing around to check that no one is watching us, I pull out the map and unfold it halfway. “He gave me this. It shows where all of Constance’s cameras are. He probably just didn’t have time to come find you.”

  “Oh. Well . . . good.” Harper looks surprised, relieved, and then hurt. She nods slowly, swallowing down her tears. “But . . . why did he message you to meet him? He could have given that to me. I was planning on meeting him in Systems anyway.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he just wanted to give it to me directly since I was the one who asked him for it in the first place.”

  Harper nods, but she doesn’t look convinced. “Still. He should have messaged me back. It’s not like him to ignore me — especially since I told him I was being deployed today . . .”

  I stare at Harper for a moment and then shrug. I’m not sure what to say to make her feel better, so I just keep my mouth shut. I can’t afford to get sucked into their best-friend drama today; I have enough drama of my own.

  But I can’t get Celdon’s strange behavior out of my head. Between his panicked expression, Harper’s ignored messages, and the dangerous work I had him doing, I can’t shake the feeling that something is horribly wrong.

  twenty-one

  Harper

  “Let’s go!” barks a voice to my right.

  Jayden is striding toward us, her overshirt buttoned all wrong and her hair still askew. She’s got a file tucked under her arm and heavy bags under her eyes.

  I’m too keyed up about Celdon to engage in a power struggle right now, but luckily she’s interrupted by the mechanic in charge of the rovers.

  He pulls her off to the side to show her something on his tablet, which gives me a chance to take everything in.

  The rover looks more like an animal than a machine, with enormous wide tires and a body style that makes the vehicle look as though it’s ready to pounce. But it’s the paint job that perplexes me. When I’d first spotted it under the florescent lights, it had looked burnt orange. Up close, though, it’s more of a rosy pink. Squinting at the pearly finish, I realize it has multiple hues embedded in the paint — probably to help the rover blend in with the desert terrain.

  I slide into the passenger seat, and the cushions instantly form to the shape of my hips and back. My brain is still running on overdrive, so I lean against the headrest and focus on the details of the interior to distract myself from Celdon, Owen, and our daunting mission.

  Eli seems to notice my anxiety. He reaches over my lap to fasten my seat belt, brushing his other hand down my leg so fast I could have imagined it. But then I feel the telltale flutter low in my stomach and catch his brief smile that says, “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  “All right,” says Jayden, crossing to the open driver’s side window and handing Eli a clunky plastic device. “I just entered the coordinates of your destination. The comms can’t pick up your interface out there, but if he’s gone by the time you arrive, call me immediately. If we spot him somewhere else, we’ll enter the new coordinates remotely.”

  “It might take us a while to locate this guy,” says Eli in an irritated voice. “We don’t have much to go on other than this scar on his arm.”

  Jayden nods as if she expected this and whips out the file she was carrying. She opens it up and shoves a still image from the surveillance footage under Eli’s nose.

  “Look for a guy wearing a hat like that. It’s gray with some sort of emblem on the front.”

  “It’s a Colorado Buffalos hat,” says Eli automatically.

  Jayden gives him a blank look. I don’t know what he’s talking about either, but it must be some pre–Death Storm reference.

  “Gray hat. Got it,” he sighs.

  At first I think Jayden might let us leave without her usual power trip. But then she leans down and rests her forearms on the edge of the door, fixing Eli with a steely glare.

  “Don’t even think about trying to ride off into the sunset.” She taps the rover’s GPS screen. “I’ll know if you do. Once you complete the mission, hit the home button, and it will drive straight back to the compound.”

  “Got it,” says Eli in a terse voice.

  “I expect you to do the best with what you’ve got, Parker,” she adds. “I denied your request because I think being stuck out there with this one will be extra motivation to get the job done quickly.”

  Jayden straightens up, signaling the mechanic that we’re ready to go. The driver’s side window retracts back into the top of the rover, and the engine roars to life. I can feel the vibrations through my seat and sense the sheer power humming beneath us.

  I turn Jayden’s strange comment over in my mind, utterly lost.

  What request would Eli have made? And what did she mean by being “stuck out there” with me?

  Suddenly the rover starts moving toward the hangar doors. An EnComm man waves his arm to someone out of my line of sight, and the enormous doors start to open.

  The rover slides smoothly into the staging area, and we’re left waiting in another large chamber. An ExCon man in orange streaks past us and unlocks the second set of hangar doors. I hear the first set clang shut behind us, and the chamber is flooded with light.

  I squint automatically, but then the rover beeps, and a pattern of tiny dots blossoms on the inside of the glass. As I watch, the dots darken, spreading over the windshield to form a translucent layer that makes the light easier on our eyes.

  “That’s cool,” murmurs Eli.

  I glance over at him and suddenly get the feeling that there’s something he isn’t telling me. I’m about to ask him what it is when the rover jerks forward and thrusts me back against my seat. The engine groans as we pick up speed, and I feel my pulse start to race.

  The wide tires navigate easily over the rough terrain, but the speed and bumpiness is still disconcerting.


  When I look out the window, the desert is flashing by in a blur — all blue and orange and shell pink. I’m amazed by how much ground we’ve covered already.

  Strangely enough, the Fringe doesn’t feel nearly as frightening when we’re encased in a metal monster and flying at a breakneck speed.

  I chance another glance at Eli and see that he’s wearing a nervous grin. “This is it.”

  I nod, still turning Jayden’s words over in my mind. Why would Eli make a request to Jayden? He knows better than anyone that she’d never give him what he wanted.

  In the distance, I see the winding black ribbon of highway swimming in and out of view. From far away, the heat haze looks like steam rising off the pavement, but as we draw closer, the blurry waves disappear.

  As we approach the scrubby tufts of desert foliage lining the road, the rover decelerates to a crawl. It navigates easily over the uneven ground, and when it reaches smooth pavement, we start picking up speed again.

  “I can’t believe you’ve never ridden in a car,” Eli murmurs with a grin.

  Despite all my worries, I can’t suppress a smile. “I never knew what I was missing.”

  “I wish we could roll the windows down to give you the full experience.”

  I look over at him, and his wistful expression gives me a little pang of tenderness. I’m not used to this side of Eli, and part of me still hasn’t processed the fact that I woke up in his bed this morning.

  He seems to be thinking along the same lines. When our eyes meet, his lips part slightly, and he gets the look he had in his compartment when I was lying in bed beside him.

  I’m not sure if he moves or if I do, but all of a sudden, we’re both leaning over the center console, and my lips are tasting his warm, inviting mouth.

  I don’t think I could ever tire of kissing Eli. The hungry way his lips move over mine sends an electric current through my entire body. And when his rough hands find my neck, my heart automatically speeds up. His fingers tangle in my hair, and I tilt my head to the side so he can kiss the spot just over my racing pulse.

  As his lips work their magic, I briefly open my eyes and get my first good look at the rover’s cargo area. I notice there are five rucksacks back there — not two — but in my heady state, it takes my brain a few seconds to catch up.

  “What are those for?” I ask breathlessly.

  Eli pulls away, looking a little flustered. “Just some extra supplies.”

  “I thought we were only going to be out here for a few days . . . a week at most.”

  He opens his mouth to reply, but the words seem to get stuck in his throat.

  “Eli . . . what’s going on?”

  “I just thought it would be good to have some extra food and water in case we get delayed.”

  “Eli . . .”

  He averts his gaze, staring purposefully out the windshield as though the road might suddenly disappear.

  “Why did you bring so many extra supplies?”

  “I just thought it would be smart.”

  “In case . . .”

  Eli sighs and drags a hand through his hair. When he meets my gaze again, I can tell he’s gearing up for something big. “Listen. Jayden has her heart set on eliminating the drifters’ leaders.”

  “I know. That’s why she got us the rover.”

  “We have to find Owen.”

  I nod.

  “No, I mean, we have to find Owen. We can’t go back to the compound until we do.”

  I roll his words around in my head for a moment, positive I must have misheard.

  “What do you mean ‘we can’t go back’?”

  “I mean Jayden told us not to come back until we had a dead drifter for her.”

  That’s when my mouth goes dry. I can’t speak. I can hardly process what Eli’s trying to tell me.

  “But that’s ridiculous. We don’t even know if we’re going to find Owen. Jayden spotted him heading toward this town, but he could be gone by the time we get there.”

  Eli nods but doesn’t say anything. I watch him carefully for a moment. I know there’s a part of this he’s leaving out — some crucial factor he doesn’t want me to know.

  “Why would you go along with this?” I prompt. “You’ve never cared about following Jayden’s orders before.”

  “We just can’t go back, okay? Can we drop this?”

  “No!” Something still doesn’t seem right. “Why can’t we go back, Eli?”

  He lets out a stream of air through his nose and looks away. “If we come back empty-handed, Jayden is going to kill you.”

  That statement causes a nervous laugh to bubble up inside me, which isn’t the reaction Eli was hoping for.

  “It isn’t a joke.”

  “Oh, please. Jayden’s been threatening my life for months now. If that’s all you’re worried about —”

  “Damn it, Harper! This isn’t a game!” Eli yells, slamming his fist against the steering wheel.

  His outburst startles me. He’s gone a little red in the face, and all the veins in his arm are sticking out. “She knows you ran off to 119, and she’s unhinged. You’re just a cadet to her.”

  He turns to look at me with his familiar hardened expression. “Have you seen what she’s been doing with cadets lately? Do you want to end up like Lenny or worse? Because believe me, she got lucky. Do you know how many went out last month and didn’t come back?”

  “N-no,” I stammer, taken aback by Eli’s angry tirade.

  “Four.”

  That shocks me into silence. I’d heard a few cadets had died, of course, but I didn’t know how many. I’d been so concerned with which of my friends were being deployed and all the drama with my parents and Constance that I wasn’t paying attention to the cadets who were disappearing from other squads.

  But I do remember how Lenny looked in the medical ward — so small and pale. She almost died on that mission, and Jayden wouldn’t have cared.

  I’ve faced so many near-death experiences and threats in the past few months that I’ve grown complacent. But I’m completely disposable to Jayden. In fact, she’d probably enjoy killing me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, suddenly angry at Eli for hiding the truth. “I didn’t get to say goodbye to any of my friends. I didn’t get to plan.”

  “You should always say goodbye when you’re deployed,” he snaps. “You know what’s out here, Harper. So don’t put that on me.”

  That pisses me off. Eli screwed up big time — the least he could do is take some responsibility.

  “You still should have told me!” I cry. “All last night when I was with you . . . you didn’t say a word.”

  “I didn’t think you were coming, okay? I thought I had a different partner assigned for this mission. It wasn’t even supposed to affect you.”

  “Wasn’t supposed to affect me?”

  Eli’s outburst was so abrupt and so unexpected that it takes me several seconds to catch up. It hurts that he assumes his deployment wouldn’t affect me if I wasn’t going with him. He knows I see him as more than a partner, and I thought he saw me that way, too.

  But that’s not the biggest surprise.

  “Wait. What do you mean you thought you had a different partner?”

  Eli doesn’t answer. He won’t even look at me.

  Suddenly, Jayden’s words come crashing back down: I denied your request . . .

  “Did you . . . Did you ask for a new partner?”

  He lets out a slow, dread-filled sigh, and embarrassment washes over me.

  Eli asked for a new partner. Eli tried to replace me.

  “Harper . . . I didn’t do it because I don’t want you as my partner. I did it so you wouldn’t have to be stuck out here hunting drifters indefinitely.”

  “But . . . we’re always partners.”

  “It’s only been a few months,” he says gently.

  That stings more than I’d like to admit.

  “You hate the Fringe,” he adds.
>
  “Everybody hates the Fringe!” I snarl. I’m working so hard to hold in my tears that I sound a little hysterical.

  “It’s different for you,” he says. “I’ve seen what it does to you . . . being out here . . . having to shoot people.”

  “I can handle myself.”

  “I know you can, but —”

  “Eli, if you didn’t want me as your partner, you could have just said so!”

  I can’t keep the tears at bay anymore. I’m so angry and humiliated. The worst is knowing that my inability to keep my emotions in check only confirms Eli’s choice to find someone new.

  “Harper, no. It’s not that at all. I love having you as my partner. It’s just —”

  Eli’s words are cut short by a sharp crack!

  “What the hell?”

  Eli jerks down under the dashboard and yanks me down, too.

  For a second, I don’t understand why, and I fight against his tight grip. Then everything seems to slow down, and I realize the crack I heard was a gunshot.

  With all our bickering, I hadn’t been paying much attention to the scenery, and judging by Eli’s panicked look, neither had he.

  There’s another shot, and the metal body of the rover sings as the bullet ricochets off.

  “Holy shit.”

  Eli is fumbling with the touchscreen, cranking up the rover’s cruising speed. The engine groans as we accelerate, but then the rover swerves.

  We’re whipped sideways, and my stomach shoots into my throat. My body strains against the seat belt, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Eli fumbling with some pedals on the floor. Everything outside the rover is a blur.

  “Shit! Shit, shit, shit!”

  There’s a slight squeal of rubber on road, and the glass behind me shatters.

  A scream escapes my throat, and I hug my knees.

  “They blew out one of our tires,” yells Eli, clear panic in his voice.

  “Can you fix it?”

  “Not without getting shot.”

  The rover comes to a jerking halt, nearly giving me whiplash. Eli unclicks his seat belt and reaches for mine. “We have to move. We’re sitting ducks here.”