His head jerked like I slapped him, and I saw, finally, acknowledgment.
“The only plan that has a chance is mine. You need to accept that because I’m not fucking around. Whatever your problem is—”
“It’s not either,” he interrupted. “Age or gender. It’s feeling like a chump. Thinking one thing, finding out not only that it wasn’t true, but there’s like fifteen other things way bigger than that going on and I didn’t even realize it. I’m supposed to be a leader, and instead I’m scrambling to catch up. And you aren’t anything like I thought you were.”
“Sorry I don’t measure up,” I said coldly, feeling like he slapped me back. “I’ve told you, multiple times in multiple ways, that you needed to stop making assumptions about me.”
“Please stop taking everything I say negatively. That wasn’t an accusation, and it certainly wasn’t disappointment. Can you maybe remember back, so long ago, when your fever broke, and I was there with you in that bathroom? You got it then, I know you did. You understood how much I care about you. I walked out of there feeling like— like we were on the same fucking page, partners even, and then a few hours later I’m the fucking enemy again. And I don’t understand why. Nothing changed that I saw. The only thing that changed was you finding out the triplets are older than you thought, and that we knew about—” he gestured at my arm, so I guess that meant my blood. “But not a fucking thing changed. They’re still the same regardless of their age, and if anything, it would be easier if you didn’t have magical-fucking-unicorn blood because all that does is complicate shit that should be easy.”
I felt like he doused me with water. Like he slapped me — not on the face, no, on the ass, and possibly called me Sally when he did it. And he wasn’t done.
“We found out your name in a goddamn meeting with Kane, right when she told us we were brought here to knock you up. You know what that was like? To have that— woman—talk about shit like that, put herself and her fucking agenda right in the middle of our relationships with you? We walked out of there feeling like no matter what we did, we were going to lose you, because once you found out what was going on — and you would find out because we were going to tell you — it would destroy any trust we’d managed to build between us. And then less than half an hour later, instead of having to explain the situation in a way that won’t destroy everything, instead we find out you’re fighting for your life in the ICU. You somehow got a JANUS infection. It was like living in a horror movie, it was our worst nightmares, every single one of us. But you fucking lived, Azzie. You lived. And yeah, I started making plans and putting things in motion because someone has to. I’m sorry if you think that means I’m questioning your judgment or can’t respect your experience here, but I don’t know what you won’t tell me, and so far you haven’t told me anything.”
It was like that moment in the hallway at the school, when Spider called me a little bitch. I don’t know what it is about these Chandler boys throwing shit back in my face and forcing me to acknowledge my own arrogance, but it was like a fucking aphrodisiac.
“You make a fair point,” I mumbled, looking away so I didn’t get all dreamy-eyed with him. “Okay,” I took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m going to tell you something really important, and you can’t tell anyone, not even Spider. Because if somehow, someone overheard you or was reading texts during transmission or something like that — and those are all possibilities — that would be it, the plan would fail. And this is the only way we’ll be able to get out, it’s the only way that they can’t anticipate.” I leaned in, right up to his ear, and whispered so quietly that it would be impossible for anyone else to hear it, “There are steam tunnels running under the town. Only Mouse and I know about them.”
“How—?” He reared back, wide-eyed and mouth agape. “H-how is that possible?”
I gestured him closer once again, not because I thought what I had to say was so top secret, but mainly because I wanted to have my face right up near his, to be able to feel the heat radiating from his skin, and smell his spicy-smokey scent. “Before the base was up and running, there were cleanup and demo crews that came through, followed by construction crews that came into town to build all the new buildings. It was a crazy, transitional time and somehow City Hall, specifically the floor with the city planner’s office, the zoning office, and the county clerk’s record’s room, caught on fire. Devastating, really. So much was lost. Including all the maps and records of the tunnels. One of those weird construction accidents and nothing to do with Mouse at all.”
His brow shot up.
“Yeah, Tai. This plan has been in the works since before this was even a base. Mouse hated the idea of me coming back to live here considering what happened, but the alternative was unacceptable. And it provided us with advantages we wouldn’t have had elsewhere, so I learned to deal with it.”
“What do you mean by what happened? You mean the outbreak?”
I nodded. I was, indeed, referring to the defining moment of my life so far.
“Kane talked about that a little in the meeting, but didn’t give much detail. The whole town—”
“I’d rather not talk about it,” I interrupted him, and he nodded, making a face. One of those I’m a dummy for asking but still wanna know faces. I made one back, one of those Not gonna happen, not dredging up long-buried trauma because you’re curious faces. He may not have understood every nuance, but he stopped talking.
“Good. So the plan. First off, you cannot tell anyone anything outside the group. No one else. I assume you have a contact person here? What? You’re NNC, right?”
“How—?”
“You said you grew up on a rez, and it’s why Mouse sent the package to your mom. That and sending you fucking clues, the meddling bitch,” I muttered under my breath.
“What do you mean?”
I shook my head, mouth pursed shut.
“No, I’m willing to concede some things, but this involves me and my family. What do you mean?”
“She sent your mom vaccine, right?”
He nodded slowly.
“Mouse claims she was this big, giant science nerd in high school, and very shy if you can believe it. COVID-19 hit when she was a senior, and she became obsessed with reading everything she could about it. She found articles about the kind of devastation it was doing to reservations and got really, really angry that so much was happening because of this systematic, institutionalized oppression of indigenous peoples. She started speaking out to raise awareness, organizing protests and using social media to influence policy-makers, all kinds of things like that. She trained to be an EMT right out of high school mainly to help with public health crises, and applied for positions in areas near reservations but there weren’t a lot of those places hiring. The only place that gave her a chance was the fire department here in Salem, they brought her on as a first responder, then she got training to be a phlebotomist, then started nursing school, and then JANUS happened. In here, we were cut off in here from a lot of news and information, but whenever she had an opportunity, she tried to find out what was being written about Native Americans and then the NNC. Finding out you were from a rez, she made assumptions — correct ones, it sounds like — and having an actual contact to send things to… being able to help your family and community was likely the highlight of Mouse’s life.” My eyes started filling up and I stared up at the lights, forcing it back. Not today, Devil, I cursed my tears. I could grieve later.
I pulled myself together and faced him again. He was watching me, with a carefully neutral expression. “That’s— a lot of things to take in right now,” he said, now frowning. “Wish I would’ve known before— not sure why she didn’t say anything, she just asked a lot of questions I guess. But you still didn’t explain.”
Goddammit. Not just a fucking pretty face!
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said primly.
He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, going all stern-and-commanding o
n me. Not gonna lie, it set off some tingles. I might have issues with male authority figures but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a firm hand, if you know what I mean and I think you do. In theory. It’s at least one account in the ol’ spank bank.
Took me a second to realize he was talking. “—her a meddling bitch and why did you say she was sending clues?”
“Oh, uh—” Pretty sure I was blushing. “Your mom would probably wonder where Mouse got the vaccine, right? And ask you. And then you’d ask her. And she’d probably give you that are you an idiot? look of hers, and either tell you to ask me, or tell you to connect the fucking dots. Probably while pointing at my arm.”
“Okay…?”
“And then clearly you’d figure out my role in all of it and fall madly in love with me,” the sarcasm was strong in this young padawan, “because I’m like a superhero with a tragic backstory in Mouse’s eyes, and then I’d finally get some. Getting me laid was a major goal for Mouse.” I shrugged. “She must’ve liked you if you made the cut.”
“Stop talking about her in the past tense,” he said, verbally bitch-slapping me and I flinched back. “You don’t know she’s dead.”
And that was the end of friendly conversation, because he still wasn’t taking me or this place seriously.
“She’s dead,” I said flatly. “And that’s the second time in like ten minutes that you’ve implied that I know less about what’s going on here than you do. I thought I was getting through to you.”
“I was in the military for six years, Azzie. I know how bases operate, even high security ones. You talk about this place like the people who run it are boogeymen hiding under your bed, and I get that you’ve been convinced to fear them, probably to control you, but they are still just soldiers.”
“And you’d probably be right, Tai,” I said in the same condescending tone he just used, “except the military isn’t running the base. McNamara and a few others here are the ones in charge, but they answer to someone or several someones on the outside. And no, they aren’t boogeymen, they’re greedy, power-hungry sociopaths masquerading as politicians and CEOs and fucking research scientists, who give no fucks about anything or anyone.”
“I— I didn’t realize—”
“No, you didn’t. You made assumptions. Again.” I rubbed the spot between my eyebrows, there was a headache forming right there and it was making my eyes hurt. “That’s your third strike. No more chances. Keep your fucking opinions and your questions to yourself. I don’t care what it requires of you, you listen to what I say like every word is a goddamn pearl of fucking wisdom coming from a burning bush, or you’re done. And if you ever second-guess me in front of others about anything having to do with this place or how it operates — if you undermine me and cause anyone to start questioning my instructions or ability to lead, or how serious this situation is, then that’s it, Tai. You’ll all be on your own. All of you. I’m not fucking around here.”
He nodded, not saying a word or making a sound, his face an expressionless mask.
I could’ve stopped there, but I was too angry. “You think I’m wrong? Who the fuck are you? You’ve been here two fucking weeks, and not even part of gen pop. One mistake… one fucking mistake or hesitation— if they catch me trying to leave, and taking anyone with me, do you know what they’ll do? First you’ll be tortured for information because they’ll want to know if its a conspiracy, and who else is involved, and they’ll finally have an excuse to go full-bore against your mom.”
He grimaced, but stayed quiet, and didn’t try to argue that the military wouldn’t do that. Even he knew better, and he’d drank the Kool-Aid for six years.
But I kept going, because I was furious but also because we weren’t in a place of trust. Too much shit had happened, and I’m not so arrogant that I don’t get that. I needed to give him more, so he might understand. “Once they’re sure you have nothing left to give, you’ll be executed for treason. And I will envy you. Because for me? I’ll spend the rest of my life hooked up to a machine in the basement of the CDC or Pentagon or possibly even Gitmo. I’ll get thirty minutes a day of sunlight when they wheel my bed out to a place that has a window. I’ll be on a feeding tube and a physical therapist will come in daily to exercise my limbs so they don’t atrophy too badly, but I’ll be kept just atrophied enough to be immobile. They might let me watch TV while I sit in my room tied to a modified dialysis machine but I won’t get to choose what’s on it and I most likely won’t care. The machine will sound an alarm every time my rbc count hits 50%, and a pint will get automatically drained off that someone nameless and wearing a mask will collect at regular intervals, and those people will get switched out regularly so they don’t start feeling anything resembling sympathy for me. I will definitely be strapped down so I don’t hurt myself. And that’s how it will be for the rest of my goddamn life, and if you think I’m joking or making this up… those sociopaths that McNamara answers to? One of them proposed just that four years ago because of security concerns. There was a vote. The base at Salem won by a slim margin. Do you want to know why?”
He cringed, and I knew he wanted to shake his head but he didn’t.
“Because the original proposal included a chemical lobotomy, and McNamara argued that I needed to participate in my own treatment protocol to ensure optimal output. They were going to revisit it in a year, see if my participation was still needed, but by the time a year came around, the base was fully operational and staffed, and security was on point. The committee or board or whatever decided it would be a waste of the investment to disband it.”
He stared at me in complete and abject horror.
“McNamara gave me the minutes of the meeting to read when I was fourteen and acting out. He wanted me to know what would happen if I did something stupid like try to leave. It worked. Do you understand now?”
“I understand,” he said, face shuttered. “More than I think you intended.”
I nodded. That was inevitable, and part of why I’d never told anyone, not even Mouse. Seeing that in print, understanding exactly what I was to them… understanding that most people wouldn’t have a problem with it, because what’s one girl in exchange for life-saving vaccine for everyone else? Needs of the many and all that. My value lies in my ability to produce my fucked up blood, and I accept that. I do.
But is it any wonder I have an attitude problem and anger issues?
I nodded, grateful he didn’t seem to want to talk about it, and I returned to the plan. “Once I leave this room, you cannot tell anyone outside the group what we’re planning. Especially not your NNC contact on base — and don’t deny having one because you texted your mom about the package, and you wouldn’t have been able to carry in a radio or sat phone or whatever.” He grimaced. Yeah, I set him up on that one, but I needed to know. “NO ONE here can be trusted, I don’t care how long you’ve known him or her or in what context. Everyone has a different agenda, and think they know better than a seventeen year old girl, and that’s what will get us all killed, or good as. Swear to me.”
“I swear. Spider, Sev, Luka, and Sasha only.”
“Jason and Ryan too. Don’t give me that face, they were brought here for the same reason, and I’m betting they were at that meeting too.”
“You know they’re assholes, right?”
“Fucking hell… how many times do I have to explain that they are nice to me, and that’s what matters to me? I don’t care if you don’t like them, I’m not going to let them die, which is what will happen to anyone in that meeting. You know too much, and you’ll disappear into whatever shallow grave Mouse is in.” I took a deep breath. “Okay, here’s what you need to do for the next twenty-four hours: abso-fucking-lutely nothing. I need you guys to act completely normal, with one exception: I need you all to stop trying to fix everything. We need to be exactly how we were before I got sick, casually friendly at best. Understand? Nothing else. No talking, no planning, nothing. You got it? Great. Please convince
them all how serious this is, and what they need to do.”
“What happens in twenty-four hours?”
“I’m getting to that. First, repeat back to me what I said.”
“For the next twenty-four hours, myself, Spider, the triplets, and the Callis brothers need to do absolutely nothing except treat you like a tentative friend who has yet to make up her mind if she really likes us or not. We are not allowed to make grand gestures or talk to anyone else about what is going on. We are not allowed to plan anything amongst ourselves. We practice radio silence and leave you alone.”
“Perfect,” I said with a gusty sigh of relief. “You might just make it out alive, Tai Chandler. But I’m telling you now, anyone who violates my orders is getting left. I will go alone. I am not the captain of the ship, I’m the fucking rats in the hold, and you aren’t going to drag me down with you if you fuck up.”
“Jesus, Azzie. We’re adults, we can follow instructions.” He furrowed his face up. On anyone else, I’d call it a pout, but the thought of Tai pouting was just... wrong. He’s way too— I don’t know, manly? Masculine? Stoic and proud? Impassive? All those things rolled up into one ripped, spicy-smelling package. Is it any wonder he occasionally triggers an involuntary swoon when he catches me off-guard?
I retreated to disgruntled sarcasm to cover up my hormonal longing. “Can you? Because I swear to Christ not a single one of you has listened to me so far.”
“We’ve listened more than you think.”
“Don’t start that shit, Tai. I know why you’re here. Experiment is over.”
“If I say something to you, are you going to get mad and leave us to die?”
“Depends on what you say.”
“Forget it,” he said, no small amount of bitterness in his tone.
“Don’t get mad at me for protecting myself.”
Book of the Damned: A-E5L1-01-00: (A reverse harem, post-pandemic, slow-burn romance) (The JAK2 Cycle, Book 2) Page 7