Strain

by Amelia C. Gormley

  “You think he got impatient?”

  Darius closed his eyes, feeling Xolani’s expectant gaze upon him. “I wouldn’t be doing my job leading this unit if I didn’t say it was possible, but . . . no, I don’t think he did. I think by now I got a pretty good idea how the boy works. He’s offered to sacrifice himself for the well-being of others at least twice before. He may wanna find a way to talk to his friend, yeah, but he won’t risk lives to do it.”

  Luis gave him a searching look born of twenty years of friendship. “And are you sure that’s the analysis of my co-commander rather than a guy who’s infatuated with the kid?”

  “Can’t it be both?” Darius kept his tone mild, managing not to wince while he cussed Luis out in his mind. Leave it to his oldest friend to bluntly point out the attachment to Rhys that Darius had been trying to avoid acknowledging. “Houtman’s claim doesn’t work. Plain fact is, Rhys doesn’t have the ego to think he can pass on the Alpha strain when he’s not showing any signs of infection himself.”

  “But you can be damn sure Houtman does,” Xolani added with a bitterly satisfied smile at Darius’s conclusion. “That sort of arrogance, believing he can just take what he wants and it will all work out in his favor, is just like him. The fact that he doesn’t even recognize that not everyone thinks like him makes him a pretty fucking bad liar.”

  Darius nodded. “Ask anyone who has been on my squad with either of them, they’ll tell you the same. Besides . . .” He fell silent for a moment, bowing his head as he searched for words. “The boy trusted us. He was a terrified kid looking death in the eye as bravely as he could until we hatched this crazy plan and asked him to trust that it would work, even though it forced him to go against everything he thought was right. He trusted us. You ask me, I think we ought to repay that.”

  Xolani’s stubborn expression softened, and she offered Darius an approving smile.

  Luis looked between the three of them for a long moment, then sighed, nodding slowly. “All right. I’ve never questioned your judgment before, and certainly not when you’re all unanimous like this. Far as I’m concerned, Cooper wasn’t doing what Houtman accused him of. So we need to figure out just what Houtman was trying to pull and decide what we’re going to do about it. Was he just covering his tracks for attacking Cooper?”

  “I think he had a plan.” Xolani gave a decisive nod. “There were packs of supplies there. Maybe Rhys can tell us more now that he’s had a chance to rest after the attack. I should go check on him soon.”

  “Do that.” Luis caught Darius’s eye, and Darius gave a tight nod. For all Luis preferred to administer with a light hand, Darius had been his friend for too long to entertain any delusions that Luis couldn’t be a deadly cold motherfucker when something threatened his unit. “I want to know what his plan was. Now, what about Cooper? He’s still not infected. Are we sure he’s going to be?”

  Xolani sighed. “It’s been four weeks. The original Project Juggernaut cases could manifest between three and eight weeks. Nobody was quite sure what caused the disparity, since the ones with the healthiest immune systems seemed to be the first ones to manifest. Maybe that’s the problem here.”

  Darius leaned forward in his chair. “Explain.”

  “Rhys’s malnourished state. His lack of muscle tissue. The possibility of organ damage. It could be his body just doesn’t have the resources to support the changes of being infected with the Alpha strain. Every test subject for Project Juggernaut was in prime physical condition, and Houtman was . . . well, he was at least a lot better off than Rhys. Something needs to fuel the changes, after all. It’s why we have much higher metabolisms than civvies. Rhys just might be too depleted, which means he might not manifest until he’s built himself back up a bit.”

  Xolani rubbed at her scar, and something bleak shadowed her dark eyes.

  Luis narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “I hear an ‘or’ in there.”

  “Or—and I completely fault myself for not thinking of this sooner—it could be that if Alpha infection tries to manifest, it could prove too big a burden for his already weakened body.”

  Darius had to keep himself from wincing. “You’re saying we may have killed him.” Even speaking the words felt like a punch to the gut.

  Shit.

  “He was already dead anyway, Darius,” Xolani said softly. “We gave him a chance. And it might still work. This is pure speculation. We just have to start thinking in terms of the alternatives. For now, though, he’s not showing any of the early symptoms of the Beta or Gamma strains, either. That gives us a lot of cause to hope.”

  “Except for maybe going crazy and attacking a Jug?” Luis deadpanned, then held up his hands in apology when Xolani favored him with a glower.

  “If it were Beta, he’d be more likely to be slowing down, slipping into a catatonic state, rather than flying into a rage. If it were Gamma, he would have been far more out of control and powerful enough that we would have had a job of it subduing him. No. He’s clean.”

  Luis murmured, “For now, you mean.”

  Darius flinched.

  “Yes. For now.” Xolani didn’t seem any happier than Darius at that concession.

  “I should go check on him.” Darius stood, trying not to look as desperate as he felt to see Rhys again and make sure he was all right after all this talk of the boy’s possible death. “I need to talk to him about—”

  A sharp rap on Luis’s open door interrupted him, and Toby stuck his head in, his eyes wide and his mouth tight at the corners. “We have a problem out on Officer’s Row.”

  Rhys was curled up asleep when Darius and Xolani came in, tense and silent. He awoke with a start as Xolani sat on the edge of the bed.

  “How are you feeling?” Darius could see by the way she examined the gruesome, finger-shaped bruises darkening on his throat that her hands were gentle in comparison to her usual brusque mannerisms.

  “Fine.” Rhys’s voice was a painful rasp, and his eyes shifted from her to Darius. He looked so damned pale. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Hush.” Xolani ruffled his hair, her thumb stroking his forehead. “We all know that. I’m gonna send someone to the warehouse and put the scavenge teams on alert, see if they can come up with some honey or lozenges for your throat. Maybe even some chamomile or jasmine tea. Slippery elm and licorice root would be even better, but that’s probably too much to hope for. I want you to try not to talk for a day or two, if you can manage it.”

  “What about Jacob?” Rhys’s voice cracked as he tried to force out the whisper.

  “Hey, what did I just say?” She slid an arm around the boy and helped him sit up, propping pillows behind him. “If we tell you about Houtman, will you keep your damn mouth shut?”

  Rhys nodded eagerly. He looked very alone, even with Xolani perched on the bed beside him. Darius felt foolish standing back in the doorway, as if he didn’t feel like he was welcome in his own bedroom, but he was oddly reluctant to draw closer. Like he might be intruding on Rhys when Rhys wasn’t well enough to deal with him. Or maybe like Rhys might shatter if Darius jostled him.

  Infatuated. Fuck Luis for putting that word out there. It didn’t even matter if it was accurate. It had been easier to ignore when it hadn’t been spoken aloud.

  Setting his jaw, Darius made himself stop acting like some bashful suitor and approached the bed from the other side, sitting down next to Rhys.

  “Houtman’s gone,” he said bluntly.

  “Not dead.” Xolani clapped a hand over Rhys’s mouth as it opened, giving him a stern look. “He’s run off.”

  How? Rhys’s eyes asked, widening as they passed rapidly back and forth between Darius and Xolani.

  “Joe went to confront him after dropping you off.” Darius gripped his knees to keep from patting Rhys to reassure himself that the boy was all right. “Joe tends to be real protective of anyone he’s taken a liking to, so he was probably gonna pound the truth out of Houtman. Houtman must have seen him comi
ng, because he got the drop on Joe and knocked him out. From what we can piece together of Joe’s story after he came to and the reports of the civvies in the quarantine zone, Houtman grabbed several packs and went to Officer’s Row. He threw blood on two of the women and one man and told them if they wanted to live, they needed to follow him. Then he loaded them up with supplies and set out. It’s our fault for not setting guards. We’ve never had a survivor try to break quarantine; they’re usually more’n happy to wait their turn to go down to Colorado Springs. And the idea that a Jug would kidnap any of them . . .”

  Xolani rubbed the scar down her cheek, looking as troubled as Darius. “We’ll go after them, of course. With three civilians, he’ll be traveling slow. But it’s already dark. He’s going to have at least a twelve-hour head start, and he took one of the inflatables. We’re not sure if he went east or west on the Columbia or south on the Willamette. Stupid. Fucking stupid. No one was paying any more attention to the boats and the water approaches to base than to the quarantine, because until now, it’s been unthinkable that anyone would try something like this. The only thing we ever post guards for is to watch for revs. Now he could be anywhere in three states in a matter of days.”

  She wasn’t fast enough to stop Rhys from speaking again. “Gabe?”

  Darius nodded. “Yeah, that’s the man he took.”

  “He wants me to go after him,” Rhys croaked.

  “If you don’t shut up, we’re done talking about this.” Xolani glared at him. “No, I don’t think his choice of hostages is a coincidence.”

  Rhys gave her a dirty look, flung himself off the bed, and stomped into the living room. Darius heard the roll top of the antique desk squeak in its track, and then he returned, thrusting a yellowed piece of paper at Xolani, which she scanned and passed to Darius.

  He tried to make me go with him. I’m the one he wants. I have to go.

  Darius caught himself before he began to growl. “Don’t get any ideas, boy. You’re in no shape to go anywhere, and we leave at first light.” Just how many times was the boy going to volunteer for death before he understood that Darius was determined to keep him alive?

  Rhys grabbed the paper back and used the pencil he’d brought to scribble another note.

  It’s just my throat. My legs work fine. I’m going.

  “Oh, you think so?” Xolani hooted. “You’re not a Jug, Rhys. Our major advantage is that we can travel at speed, and he’ll be slowed down by his hostages.”

  Rhys strode back out to the living room and returned with a whole stack of papers.

  Can you make the river flow faster? You don’t even know which way he went. A lot of good Jug speed is going to do you.

  Darius rubbed a hand over his mouth to disguise the twitching of his lips. He wasn’t about to seriously consider letting the boy come, but damn if seeing him talk back wasn’t an entertaining show.

  Rhys scowled at them each in turn, his jaw set at a mutinous angle. Then he sobered and wrote another note, his eyes shining as he passed it to Xolani. What will he do to Gabe if he gets pissed because I don’t come?

  Xolani gave him an indulgent look. “Rhys, when we catch up to him, he’s not going to see us coming, at least not in time to do a head count and kill his hostages if he realizes you’re not there.”

  Darius affirmed her claim with a nod. “Besides, even if that wasn’t the case, there’s no reason to risk you, as well.”

  Rhys’s eyes narrowed, and he scribbled another note and flung it at them.

  They’re civvies. I’m not. They come first. If something goes wrong and you don’t surprise him, you need me there.

  Fuck. Suddenly the argument wasn’t so amusing anymore. Interesting how difficult it was to maintain that uninfected survivors were given the highest priority when it wasn’t simply an abstract question.

  Darius gritted his teeth. “That ain’t gonna happen.”

  Rhys tapped the end of the pencil on the sheath of paper rapidly for a moment, then wrote another note and thrust it at Darius with a defiant look.

  What about infecting me?

  Xolani pulled the slip of paper out of Darius’s hand and read it, cursing when she finished. “It’s probably not necessary at this point, but . . . shit.” The scar down her cheek tightened, and she sighed. “Look, we’ll find you someone, Rhys. Someone nice. Someone you’ll be comfortable with.”

  Rhys held Darius’s eyes, and Darius knew he and Xolani were on the losing end of this debate. The boy would sooner court death than fuck someone else when Darius wasn’t there to compel him to do it, and he and Xolani weren’t going to risk that happening. Rhys didn’t want Xolani’s someone nice. And there was no way Darius could force the issue if he left Rhys behind. He certainly couldn’t command anyone on base to fuck the boy against his will.

  As they stared each other down, Rhys touched the spot under his jaw where Darius had nicked him, and the stubborn look in his eyes turned just a little pleading. They’d made an arrangement, the two of them, Rhys reminded him with that gesture. Reached an agreement. Rhys wanted Darius just as much as he didn’t want anyone else—possibly more—and Darius had assented to that.

  Rhys dropped his eyes and wrote something else. It seemed to Darius that the pencil shook while he scribbled. He handed the note to Xolani, and Darius swore he saw her olive complexion go a little gray as she read it. She crumpled it in her hand and threw it on the floor without passing it on.

  “That’s not going to be an issue, Rhys.” She tossed an irritated look at Darius. “You want to jump in here?”

  Darius scoffed, shaking his head in disgust. There was no answer he could make without conceding defeat. Somehow the runty little undernourished twerp had managed to argue them both down even without a voice.

  A final note, passed gently to Xolani. Rhys’s face was grave, and Xolani read it, then closed her eyes as if in pain, blindly handing it over to Darius.

  It may be the last thing I do anyway. Let me help you stop him.

  Fuck again. Darius cleared his throat, which suddenly ached. “Don’t be so sure about that, boy. We got time yet.”

  Rhys looked away. He didn’t seem very convinced. Darius couldn’t let himself dwell on the possibility that Rhys might die, despite everything they’d done. And especially that it might happen while they were gone, unable to say good-bye. Rhys’s connection to them might be new and tenuous, but they were the closest ties he had in this world now.

  Xolani sighed and met Darius’s eyes, looking troubled. They shared a moment of unspoken communication of their own, making joint decisions with a few glances as they’d done for years. The odds were far too good that Rhys was in greater danger from himself if they left him behind than he was from Houtman if he went with them.

  Darius growled and nodded once, sharply. “All right, boy. You’re coming along. We leave at first light.”

  Rhys sagged back against the pillows, letting his papers and pencil slide off the edge of the bed. He didn’t smile or gloat, and Darius realized this wasn’t a game to him. He wasn’t just some stubborn kid who had to have it his way and didn’t want to be left behind. He’d meant those protests, each one deathly serious.

  Now he just looked drained, and it seemed the bruises on his throat had darkened in the short time it had taken for them to have their debate.

  Xolani muttered a curse at the display of exhaustion, which Darius had to force himself not to echo. How was the boy going to keep up with them?

  She rubbed her hands on her fatigues and rose. “Well. At least we’ll be in a boat for the first leg of the journey, so you can continue to rest. You’re probably still in shock after the attack. You’ll be better in the morning.” Giving Darius a loaded look, she added, “Make sure he gets some sleep tonight.”

  “That’s not going to be a problem.” He flicked a stern glance at Rhys, who had the sense to look abashed. Xolani excused herself, and Rhys went to the bathroom, leaving Darius to stare at the notes scattered arou
nd the bed. He picked up the one Xolani had crumpled up and pried it open.

  What if I get sick while you’re gone?

  Darius crushed it in his hand.

  Fuck.

  Rhys folded his arms across his chest, glowering at the broken Bonneville Dam as water surged through it.

  Jacob and his hostages weren’t here, and there was no sign of the inflatable he’d stolen.

  “He still could’ve have stashed the boat before heading out on foot.” Titus rubbed his grizzled chin. He had to speak loudly to be heard over the roaring of water through the spillways.

  Xolani turned a slow circle, looking in each direction. “We’ve been looking all afternoon. If he stashed it, he didn’t do it anyplace within easy walking distance, and if he’d taken time to stow it farther away, he’d still be in the area and we’d be caught up to him by now. It’s more likely he ported it by land upriver to continue past the dam.”

  “Assuming he even went east.” Darius’s rumble was filled with the disgust they all shared.

  “Why would he go west?” Xolani turned to Darius with a challenging look. “Sooner or later he’d hit the ocean, and then he’d be pinned. It’s not likely he went south on the Willamette, either. Very little south of Portland has been patrolled, but we have squads sweeping around there, which means he faces a greater chance of discovery by our guys. Heading east, he has better odds of finding other people and supplies.”

  “I ain’t saying you’re wrong, Xolani, I’m just saying there’s a chance we’re not finding him because we’re going the wrong way.”

  Rhys remained silent, glaring at the river as if it were somehow to blame for his frustration. The first day of their hunt for Jacob was a waste. The longer they went without finding him, the greater the likelihood that some or all of his hostages would die.

  Including Gabe. If Jacob didn’t kill him outright, he’d still been exposed to Beta from Jacob’s blood. Rhys kept replaying that first night at the monastery in his mind, hearing over and over Xolani’s insistence that they needed to act immediately if they hoped to counter Rhys’s exposure to the Beta and Gamma strains.