“Trust you?”
Scratch picked Miller up again and by the time she could finish the thought he was carrying her toward the waiting ambulance. Miller still felt dizzy and weak. She tried to keep her eyes on Crespi, but Scratch swung her around to put her face down on a sheet. Someone strapped her down on the gurney. Crespi appeared in her line of sight and stood at the open rear doors of the vehicle. The engine was already running.
“Do you mind if I ride with you?” Crespi asked. “I’d be grateful. We still have a few things to discuss on the way.”
Miller glared. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re just as bad as Williams and that asshole—what did you say his name was?—D’Amore. The three of you did this to me, to us, to the world. Just because you’re the last man standing does not absolve you of your war crimes.”
Two young medical technicians started to patch Miller up. They began by cutting the cloth of her pants, gently lifting the fabric away from her wound. Someone gave her an injection. Her stomach felt warm as the drug hit. These boys are working on me just like ol’ Terrill Lee did when I came to him for help that first day. Damn, I miss him. So many people, so much misery, all because of these assholes…
Miller realized that she was getting loopy.
“Why don’t you just take a hike, little man?”
Miller closed her eyes involuntarily. She wanted to fall asleep. Scratch was sitting next to her. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was there.
The ambulance rocked as Crespi boarded. “This won’t take long, Sheriff. When we get to the hospital in a few minutes I’ll leave you alone to heal. But in those few minutes, we definitely need to talk. We’ll have to get our stories straight.”
“What?” Miller could feel the painkillers that the techs administered kicking the rest of the way in. Now she felt stoned out of her mind and had no more fight left in her. “Fine. Talk.”
The doors slammed and the ambulance began to move. “When you get to your room in the hospital, there will be an agent waiting there with a document to sign, and a copy of that document to keep. Sheriff, trust me on this, I highly recommend you sign that document immediately. A notary public with a high security clearance will be there to witness the event. Again, trust me. You’re going to want what we will give you in exchange for your service to this country.”
The ambulance roared down the delivery ramp and rolled away into the night. The driver did not turn on a siren. Whatever was happening, as Crespi had hinted, it was all weirdly Top Secret.
Scratch spoke. “What exactly will she be signing, Short Eyes?”
“It is a non-disclosure agreement,” Crespi said, refusing to be offended. “Here it is in a nutshell. You will sign and then stay silent about your knowledge of this entire operation and the events that have taken place subsequent to the onset of the plague. If you discuss anything that has occurred with anyone, privately or in public, even to become a so-called anonymous source, you will be taken directly to Leavenworth and left there to rot for life. There will be no appeal, no parole, and no second chances.”
Miller snorted. “You are bluffing, Crespi. Leavenworth is a men’s prison.”
No answer. Guess that doesn’t mean shit to them, Miller thought, and shuddered. That would be one long-assed, scary jail sentence for a woman.
Scratch said, “You really have that kind of power?”
Again, Crespi said nothing.
Miller looked up. She read Crespi’s eyes and knew that he was not bluffing. He had been a good actor before, playing a guy in over his head, but now he was deadly serious. “Before you bother to ask, Sheriff, I am in charge now. Believe me, I will get things under control.”
“And what will we get in return for our silence?” Miller felt sleepy again. It seemed to come in waves. The ambulance bounced a bit and her ass stung. She winced.
Crespi cleared his throat. “Good, I was hoping you’d see reason. You will get a full pardon for any and all criminal acts you have committed along the way, including murder, violations of the Homeland Security Act, and destruction of government property. I suggest you keep a close eye on that document when you get your copy, Sheriff. There will be no extras floating around. It’s only good when it is in your possession, and only if the terms of the NDA are upheld. And I assure you we will make your lives a living hell if you betray our trust.”
“You’ve been working for the top man all along,” Scratch said. It was not a question. “We’ve just been pieces on your chess board.”
Miller could sense Scratch was getting ready to bitch slap the smaller man so she changed the subject.
“Hey, Crespi, does Scratch get one of those, too?”
“Yes, Sheriff, we are offering exactly the same deal to Mr. Bowen and his son and stepson, to your surviving companions, and to anyone else we cannot simply dispose of, imprison, or ignore.”
“So Scratch is right, you’re in good with the President?” Miller closed her eyes to fend off nausea. The ambulance turned a corner sharply and the tires squealed. Miller tried to focus her thoughts. “And what does the big man think about all the death and destruction your little committee of three perpetrated? Tell me Crespi, will you get a presidential pardon and a golden parachute of your own?”
“Allow me to say this much. The President has remained blissfully ignorant of the particulars of the Select Committee’s activities, though he has a general idea of the task ahead. This was done for his protection as much as your own. The move is known in the trade as ‘plausible deniability.’”
“How nice for both of you,” said Scratch. “I got a question, though.”
“Yes?”
Scratch leaned in close to Crespi with fire flickering in his dark eyes. “Did you dumb asses really think what you were doing was a good idea? Was making super-soldiers really worth all this?”
“Yes.” Crespi said with conviction. “In the end it will have been worth all this and more, once we finally get control of the problem. No offense, but you are not aware of all the dangers our country will face in the latter part of this century. We are. You will have to trust your government.”
The ambulance rolled to a stop. Miller raised her head and opened her eyes. “So you’re not even sorry about what happened?”
“Not in the way you’d like me to be.” Crespi settled back in his chair. “Collateral damage is an inevitability of warfare. We now have the virus itself and a working serum, a metabolite that renders the serum non-lethal. We also have a protocol for safely administering the treatment to humans, one that has now been fully vetted on human subjects. And we owe it all to you, Penny.”
Miller’s head was swimming. She couldn’t tell if it was the drugs or a reaction to his blip rationalizations. “Don’t call me by my first name. Don’t do that.”
“You lousy, arrogant fuck, you have no idea what you’re doing.” Scratch was too exhausted to yell. “You actually think all this was a success?”
“Oh, yes,” Crespi said, “very much so. Again, I regret the unfortunate deaths that were precipitated by the experiments in Nevada, and the spread of the plague to California, Utah, Idaho, and Colorado. Certainly mistakes were made. But, overall, the program will prove to be worth every bit of the strife that came out of it. Years from now you will understand.”
Miller started laughing. She had no idea why, and was furious at herself for not being more incensed, but laying there stoned and in pain she just thought it was all somehow hilarious. Her ass hurting was funnier still. The ambulance rolled forward a bit and stopped moving again.
The back doors to the ambulance opened but Scratch and Crespi motioned for the medics to back away and wait a moment longer.
Scratch voiced Miller’s question for her. “So, who’s your first target?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Stop stalling, Crespi. Who are you going to hit first?”
“I really can’t discuss that, Mr. Bowen. Suffice to say, if you ever find out and utter one
word, don’t count on that pardon to protect you.”
He motioned for the medics. One of them tightened the straps that held her face down on the gurney. They got prepared to lift her out and take her into the hospital. Miller’s eyelids were drooping now. She felt no pain, physical or emotional, and that state suited her just fine. She was whacked out of her mind. She blew Scratch a feeble kiss.
“You know what you are, Crespi?”
“No, Penny,” Crespi said, using her first name in vain again, “but I assume you are about to tell me.”
Miller was asleep before she could finish the thought.
Epilogue
Outside of Wasilla, Alaska, one year later
“How are you feeling today, Penny?”
“Pain’s down to a four today.” Miller stretched her bum leg and then continued walking. “Do I want to know why you’re asking?”
Scratch feigned ignorance. “Why shouldn’t I ask? I care about your pain, Penny.”
“And you care about my ass.”
Scratch nodded. “There’s that.”
They watched Jimmy and Lex wander the shores of Lucile Lake, looking for interesting rocks. Wind rustled through the pines. An eagle flew overhead, wings flapping slowly. The sky was clear and blue with a wisp of clouds to the east.
“I’ve just noticed a pattern. See, when you ask about my pain, the next question is, am I feeling up to having sex tonight.”
This time, Scratch feigned righteous indignation. He flipped his long hair back. “Oh, come on, Penny. You know that’s not the only thing on my mind.”
“Oh, okay, that’s good to know, because I was about to say yes.”
Scratch grinned. “Great!” Then he coughed. “I mean that is a very nice idea.”
“Yeah right.” Miller smiled back broadly. That’s my man.
“Was there anything good at the post office?” Scratch gestured to her shoulder bag. Neither one of them liked living off the government’s hush money, but the checks did make things a lot easier. They had a large garden with fruit trees and vegetables and their small ranch now had chickens and cows and horses as well. Scratch bought their meat at the market in town. They were both too tired of killing to slaughter their own animals. Miller never wanted to pick up another gun for as long as she lived.
They were suited to the edge of the wilderness. She liked their life now. They didn’t even have internet. Jimmy had protested at first, but had taken to reading books all day instead of playing video games. The kid was smart. Miller watched as the small waves lapped the edge of the lake, wetting the bare feet of the two boys.
“Did you hear me?”
She hadn’t answered Scratch. He’d asked what she’d picked up from the post office. She didn’t want to say.
“We got mail,” Miller finally replied. She pulled the large, plain envelope out of her bag. “There’s no return address on this one. It made me nervous. I figured we’d open it together when we got home.”
Scratch held out his hand, and she placed the envelope in it. They locked eyes for a few seconds. He looked down.
“Miller, Penelope Jean,” Scratch read. “Hell, that sounds official.”
“Don’t worry about it, Scratch. Whenever Crespi sends something, he always addresses it to Mr. and Mrs. P. Miller. It’s not from him.”
“Yeah, I know. Let’s do it.” Scratch slipped his finger under the seal and opened the letter. He pulled a single sheet of paper out. As he read it, his face fell. Miller’s heart did in response. No no no no no…
“What’s it say?”
Scratch simply handed her the sheet, and then ran ahead to collect the kids. “Jim, Lex, get over here, we need to back to the house. We have to get going. It’s time for Plan B. Come on, move your butts.”
Neither child complained, but they did look worried. Perhaps they hadn’t believed this day would ever come. Miller hadn’t wanted to either. She watched as they came back right away. They were such good kids. They stood next to their father, waiting for orders. She turned her attention back to the letter. She read the first line aloud.
“You are hereby commanded to appear before Congress to testify… Aw, fuck me. This is a subpoena.”
Miller almost crumpled the letter. She didn’t want to know the rest. She would have to contact Crespi. Perhaps he didn’t even know about this. Or perhaps he did, and had already made his next move. She needed to find out. Talking to Congress was in strict violation of their non-disclosure agreement.
This was bad. It might turn worse.
Miller could hear Scratch talking to Jimmy. “Son, need you to get out to the dock and get the Beaver ready to fly. Looks like we’re taking a permanent vacation.”
“What’s happening, Dad?”
Miller raised her voice. “We won’t bother running. That won’t help.”
“Come on, Penny,” said Scratch. “I say we fly out to Nome and blow this whole thing off.”
“It won’t matter. They will find us. It might be that Crespi dropped the ball. That this was all for nothing.” This time, she did crumple the letter. “And things were going so well.”
Scratch came closer. He put his hands on her shoulders and grinned. “It’s going to be all right, Penny. I promise.”
You just keep telling yourself that, cowboy. Nevertheless, Miller smiled back. What did it matter? They had today, and they would always have each other.
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The Hungry (Book 6): The Rule of Three (The Sheriff Penny Miller Zombie Series) Page 31