She looked . . . absolutely livid.
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” she snarled, slamming the door behind her.
“What do you mean?” he croaked. His mouth was dry, despite the IV fluids they had given him, his eyes parched and gritty. He staggered to the basin and drank from the tap, scooping the water to his mouth with his hand.
“There’s not a trace of Bane in your sample, Alpha or otherwise!” She stormed irately from one end of the cell to the other. “Was this a joke? Do you have any idea the panic you’ve provoked here? We were all convinced we were dying!”
He gawked at her, and then a startled laugh burbled out of him. Fuck, it hurt, but he couldn’t stop. The pain of each spasm only made him laugh harder, tears running down his face as he collapsed to the floor.
“Wait. Wait. Wait.” He flapped a hand helplessly at her. “So Littlewood’s been shooting himself up with my spunk for nothing?” He dissolved into hysterical peals of laughter again, almost sobbing with the pain of his abused abdominal muscles but utterly beyond controlling it. “Oh Jesus. That’s almost worth every bit of it.”
When he calmed enough to wipe his eyes and look up at her, the hilarity of that image had caught on, and she was leaning against the wall, trying to contain her own merriment. Their gazes locked, and they lost it again.
“I swear, I didn’t know,” he vowed when they had finally gotten control of themselves. “I’m sorry. But remember, when I got here I was surprised you thought I had Alpha.”
“Whoever you were working with in the Clean Zone was serious enough about disrupting Littlewood’s plans that they falsified your records to make you irresistible,” she surmised, and Rhys nodded. He felt something lift off his chest at the realization that Zach hadn’t lied to him, after all. He’d asked to be kept in the dark about Zach’s master plan, so he couldn’t be caught out in a lie.
Thanh turned that over for a moment. “This is both bad and good news. On one hand, we’re not dying. On the other, neither is Littlewood, and now you have nothing protecting you from him. And I am back to having no Alpha to use for a vaccine. We don’t dare approach your Jug comrade for it.”
“Could you get it from her, anyway?” Rhys asked, his brow furrowing. “I mean, safely.”
She frowned. “The two things needed to trigger the mutation from Alpha to Beta are air and the clotting agents of an open wound. With a vacuum tube and sufficient anticoagulants—and a tremendous amount of caution—we might be able to extract Alpha from a blood sample without it mutating.”
“But then Littlewood really would have his hands on Alpha. Unless—” Rhys blinked, his head coming up. “Unless he’s too distracted to know what you’re doing.”
“What are you proposing?”
“Does he know yet? That I’m not infected?”
Thanh shook her head. “He had no idea I’d obtained a sample from you to work with.”
“Fine. Then let him keep thinking that he’s dying. I’ll talk to Schuyler, see if she’ll volunteer to let you take a blood sample. You have the anticog—antiagu—”
“Anticoagulants.”
“Those. If she agrees, can you do this safely?”
“I can. I made sure we were stocked in case this opportunity ever arose.”
Rhys licked his lips. “I can’t promise she’ll do it; she hates civvies and I can’t really blame her. But if she does, I’ll keep Littlewood’s attention on me while you work.” He groaned, rubbing his forehead. “Just promise me you’ll give me something for my muscles. I don’t know how many more jolts of that prod I can take.”
“You won’t have to. I told him if he kept it up, sooner or later he was going to stop your heart.” Thanh smiled grimly. “Make him think he’s won your voluntary cooperation somehow. Keep providing him with what he wants. I’ll do my part. I’d just better hurry, so we can let everyone know they’re not going to die of the Rot. People will start preemptively killing themselves before long.”
She had her hand on the doorknob, about to excuse herself, when Rhys stopped her. “If you hear anyone talking about doing that, go ahead and let them know. That part, I mean. The part where I didn’t infect anyone. Don’t say anything about having a live Alpha sample. If Littlewood finds out it was all a hoax, he’ll take it out on me, which will keep his attention off the lab, too.”
She winced at that but nodded, then hurried off while Rhys asked the guard to take him to Schuyler.
Rhys had just returned to his cell after convincing Schuyler to cooperate with Dr. Thanh, when Littlewood arrived. The man looked like he’d aged twenty years and hadn’t slept in a month. The expression in his eyes was now less cruel and more desperate, and it burned with a deep, deep spite for Rhys.
“Thanh tells me I’m in danger of killing you if I force any more deposits from you,” he announced, giving Rhys a venomous look. “I’d be more than happy with that risk, except it wouldn’t accomplish my ends. Therefore, I have an ultimatum for you.”
Rhys smiled tauntingly. He knew this conversation would end with Littlewood “gaining” the upper hand somehow, but he couldn’t make it too easy on the bastard. “What can you do to me? You can’t force me, and I’m sure as hell not going to give it up on my own.”
“Oh, I won’t do anything to you.” Littlewood smiled, and Rhys went utterly cold at the gleam of pleasure in his eyes. “But I have the personnel carrier that brought you here standing by. You’ll give me what I require, or I’ll return to the Clean Zone, taking the Rot with me.”
Rhys forgot he was supposed to be playing a role. He stared at Littlewood in horror. “There are thousands of people there! You’re willing to kill them all?”
Littlewood shrugged indolently. “Why should I care? Oh, I may lose one or two potentially amusing toys, but I won’t be around to enjoy them anyway, will I? Unless, of course, you cooperate.”
The only thing that kept Rhys from complete desperation was recalling that this was all an act. Littlewood couldn’t hurt anyone. But, oh, his casual willingness to do so was terrifying all on its own.
“Fine,” he whispered, hanging his head. “I’ll give you what you want.”
“I thought you’d see reason.” Now Littlewood looked smugly benevolent. “And when I have the Alpha strain, Rhys, you will become my very special plaything. Whatever you may have enjoyed with your brute of a Juggernaut, I can assure you, you’ll find no such pleasure at my hands. Think on that while you work to make me a god among men. Gods are notoriously capricious, and someday you’ll understand what that means.”
Rhys sank, trembling and aching, onto his cot long after Littlewood was gone, knowing that no matter what he’d ever thought of Father Maurice and Jacob, he had now seen true evil.
Crossing the Nevada desert during a late-spring heat wave was second only to crossing the Nevada desert during the height of summer on the list of experiences Nico’d rather not have. After an assessment of their location, destination, and the availability of water along the way, the other Jugs had decided to travel at night and in the early morning hours before the afternoon heat set in. With the region cleared of revenants, they could be looser with their operational protocols, which made visibility and potential encounters with other predators the biggest hazards they faced.
The desert and subsequent abandoned towns made an eerily beautiful tableau in the moonlight. The houses seemed even more haunted, the landscape cold and pale and barren, like the surface of another planet entirely. Nico hardly noticed since he’d walked this desert more than once, sometimes for months on end, seeking the secret DPRP research facility, but Zach kept remarking upon it. Zach, who had spent the last ten years of his life fenced into a repurposed suburb surrounded by trenches full of razor wire. Despite his exhaustion and the constant travel, he was radiant in his newfound freedom.
How had Nico never noticed how miserable Zach had been with his life in the Clean Zone?
Did you not notice? Or were you so determin
ed that Zach be safe there that you never stopped to consider it?
Whatever the answer, he was now swayed by Zach’s certitude that their choice to be together was the right one. Being with Zach felt as natural as it ever had, even if he was just lifting Zach off his bike when they made camp in the late morning, forcing some rations on him, and then holding him when he passed out and slept like the dead. Usually, after he woke, Zach would slip away somewhere secluded and wait for Nico to join him, and they’d make love as the sun set, before it was time to travel again.
It was so perfect it left Nico vaguely uneasy. Surely it couldn’t be so simple.
“Stop it,” Zach chided, reaching for his clothes in the dusky red-gold light. They were both sweaty and sticky and probably wouldn’t come across another body of water suitable for bathing until sometime tomorrow, but they didn’t care. It was amazing just how much they were willing to compromise on hygiene when the alternative was a whole day of not touching.
Nico smiled and rolled onto his side, their blanket soft atop the dry, already-scorched grass. “Stop what?”
“Stop worrying about things that are in God’s hands.” Zach buttoned his sweat- and dust-stained shirt and bent to kiss Nico. He was losing weight on their lean rations and incessant travel—they all were—and Nico suspected they would need to stop and hunt pretty soon, despite the delay it would cause. Maybe he’d see if he could find game while they marched tonight.
“How do you know that’s what I was worrying about?” He slipped a hand under Zach’s shirt, sliding it around his waist to tug him off-balance and send him toppling to the ground on top of Nico. Zach grunted in surprise, then smiled brilliantly, kissing him.
“Because I know you.” He didn’t seem in any hurry to rise, and Nico wasn’t in any hurry to go, either, but Darius might very well decide to leave without them if they didn’t rejoin the party.
Regretfully, Nico eased Zach off him with another kiss and started gathering up his own clothing, shaking it to make sure no scorpions or other desert wildlife had wiggled their way in while he’d been preoccupied with Zach. While Nico dressed, Zach reclined on the blanket and chattered idly.
“Did you hear what Joe was saying about this place?” He gestured around at the compound they had camped on. The estate had obviously belonged to someone wealthy. Rusty iron fences cordoned off a huge tract of land that had the sort of lawn that didn’t grow naturally in this region. A dry swimming pool was in the backyard, and beyond a stand of trees, there was a tennis court and even a putting green and driving range. The derelict house itself was enormous and must have been very ostentatious before age and neglect had set in.
Nico shook his head. He’d been aware of Joe, Darius, and Xolani talking about the place, but his attention had been on making Zach comfortable after the way he’d pushed himself to keep pace with the Jugs again. “What was he saying?”
“He thinks it’s been inhabited since the pandemic. Not recently, of course, but maybe early on, after the first wave, someone had hidden out here for a few years.” Zach looked at the mansion with an assessing eye. “He warned me about booby traps. Said he almost tripped one near the front door. I wonder why they left.”
“Maybe they went to the Clean Zone.” Nico fastened his trousers and sat to tug on his boots. “One of the Delta Company squadrons cleared this region, didn’t they? Or was it Bravo? They might have recovered the survivors.”
Zach nodded and turned a slow circle, squinting at the trees. “I think there may be game in the greenbelt there. I saw something moving.”
“I’ll go check it out. Will you tell them to wait for me?” He jerked his head in the direction of camp, where they’d left Darius, Xolani, and Joe still sleeping an hour earlier.
“Finally learn to field dress a kill?” Zach teased.
Nico snorted. “I’ve had more practice at it these last few years than you have.” He stood and grabbed Zach’s ass, hauling him in for a kiss that left Nico aching. “I’ll be back in a few.”
Nico shouldered his rucksack and fastened the harness across his chest before picking up his assault rifle. It wasn’t the best option for hunting, but it was all he had. Keeping a firm grip on his weapon, he slowly approached the tree line.
The shadows were deeper in the greenbelt, almost full dark. He let his eyes adjust, scanning the sod around the base of the trees carefully, looking for tracks. Zach might have seen a coyote or wolf or cougar just as easily as anything more suitable for eating, and the last thing Nico needed was to be pounced by an angry predator.
He heard a rustle ahead and flipped off the safety on his rifle. There it was; he could just see it moving through the trees, too tall and massive to be canine or feline. An elk? Nico moved cautiously, stepping lightly to avoid startling it. Hopefully his body odor wouldn’t waft in that direction before he could get a clear shot.
He sensed Zach approaching behind him almost subliminally. He moved differently than the Jugs; his entire presence felt different. Maybe it was Nico’s heightened senses that picked up on the subtleties. Nico didn’t speak or acknowledge him. Zach knew how to hunt. He’d remain quiet and still when necessary, and having him here would mean they’d get the animal dressed and ready for transport that much quicker.
Another step forward, then another. The elk lifted its antlered head, sniffing the air. Nico almost had a clear shot. One more step forward . . .
He heard the whistle of something flying through the trees almost before his foot had snagged on something that shouldn’t be there. He dropped his weapon and spun, shoving Zach back so hard that he slammed against a tree trunk. Heat sliced through Nico’s arm as he did so, and then there was a small, sharpened wooden bolt sticking out of either side of his forearm.
A trip wire. Connected to some fucking booby trap from some goddamned survivalist wannabe who didn’t want anything sneaking up on his hideout. Nico focused on that because the rest was too horrific to contemplate.
Blood was seeping out around the edges of the bolt, dripping off the end. And two small, deadly drops had splattered onto Zach’s cheek.
“Oh no.” He heard the crack in his own voice, the way it rose in pitch, almost like a child’s plaintive plea, like he’d regressed to the age of magical thinking where if he wished really hard, he could make it not be true. “Oh God. Zach. No.”
He watched the realization spread across Zach’s face. Fear and consternation and then resignation. Even acceptance. He blinked slowly, then nodded once. He almost smiled.
“It’s okay, Nico. It’s okay. Let’s get you to Xolani.”
He reached for Nico with gentle, reassuring hands, and fuck him for being so fucking calm. Like the world wasn’t fucking crashing down around their ears.
“No!” Nico roared, thrashing. Jerking away from Zach’s reach. The pain in his impaled arm was both incredible and insignificant as he wrapped his hands around a sturdy sapling and ripped it out of the ground by its roots. He threw it against another tree and rushed after it, pummeling the tree until the thick trunk began to splinter and crack. “No!”
“Nico, stop! Stop!” First it was Zach’s voice, full of loving entreaty, but then Darius, Xolani, and Joe were there and they were restraining him. The red haze faded from his vision. All around him, a half-dozen trees showed damage from a rampage he didn’t remember.
He dropped to the ground, sobbing until it felt like he’d puke. When he finally stopped, he was back where they had camped during the day with no memory of how he’d come to be there. His head was in Zach’s lap, and Zach was crooning soothing nonsense to him. The stake had been removed from his throbbing arm, and a blood-tinged bandage was wrapped tightly around it. The position of the moon suggested that a good portion of the night was already gone.
His head ached, and his diaphragm was sore from the wracking sobs that hadn’t let him catch his breath while he was in his fugue.
He felt Zach’s lips against his temple, and a tear landed on his skin. “It’s o
kay, my love. This is God’s plan for us. We just need to have faith.”
Nico wanted to argue, wanted to rail at Zach, because fuck him and fuck his God, if this was the sort of bullshit plan in store for them. But his voice seemed to be broken, his throat so raw he could swear he tasted blood. Jesus, what had he done?
He wanted to jerk away from Zach and lash out in anger at him for convincing Nico that they could be together without this exact thing happening. But he couldn’t. Because now the clock was ticking, and every minute he spent pushing Zach away in anger was a minute they would never recapture.
On the other side of the campfire, Joe sat staring into the flames. The look on his face was one Nico had never seen before, full of haunted recollections. Past him, Darius prowled the perimeter of their campsite. He had to be dying to get on the road, but his impatience was tempered. He wasn’t saying a word to hurry them along.
No, that was Xolani, whose husky voice was gentle with sympathy. She patted Zach’s shoulder and reached down to help Nico to his feet. “We have to go. We need to get to water before we camp again or we’re going to have trouble. And the sooner we get to Rhys, the sooner we see if we can come up with an antiserum before it’s too late.”
Nico let her pull him up, never taking his gaze off Zach. Zach’s eyes were red rimmed, but they were placid. That same serene glow he’d had since the night on the shores of the Great Salt Lake was firmly in place.
He put his fingers on Nico’s lips before Nico could say anything. “Not one word about infecting me with the Alpha strain. I won’t do it, and I won’t waste the time we have arguing about it. Understand?”
“Please,” Nico whispered desperately, and even that much speaking made his throat burn.
Zach merely shook his head and kissed him softly on the lips. “This is the right course. I know it. Just take the time we have left for the blessing it is.”
He kissed Nico again, slowly, lingering. His hands were gentle on the sides of Nico’s face, cradling him. And then he stepped away with a beatific smile and helped Joe bury the campfire.
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