Garrison stepped beside Turner. “Or they’re dead. The UNS feeds were very specific. They said the border patrol guards that survived were taken into custody. No other bodies were recovered.”
My eyes cut back to Turner. “So, my uncle killed his brother. Your father and my dad are dead?”
Chuck appeared behind me. “That’s what we believe.”
I slid to the ground beside Amelie.
Garrison squatted in front of us. “We don’t believe any of the soldiers besides the guard patrol survived the attack.”
Chuck’s face appeared in front of me next. “We’ve gone deep into their systems. There isn’t any chatter about additional hostages, other soldiers taken from the base after the attack.”
“Then they left before the attack.” I wrapped my arm around Amelie.
“Jema, we’ve studied all the satellite views for the past month. No one left. Our fathers were still at the base at the time of the attack.” Turner peered into my eyes.
“Well, they left before then, got out with the families, went somewhere else to hideout. Maybe they’re at Lovelock.” I locked eyes with each of them. It couldn’t be true. They had to be okay. I balled my fist and bit the insides of my cheeks to keep tears from forming. I would not accept this. It wasn’t right. My dad was not dead because of me.
Turner gripped my shoulder. “Don’t you think the families would have told us that? All the wives? Avia’s mother even said her husband and our fathers stayed behind.”
“My mom told me Dad stayed behind to stand with the base.” Avia’s head bobbed.
“Jema, look at me.” Chuck waved his hand in front of my face. “He’s gone. Your father is dead. They’re all dead.”
Scanning their faces, seeing their big round eyes, I realized they’d done everything in their power to confirm it, dug deep into the web, hacked every satellite they could. It was true. My dad was dead. Our dads were gone. I sat there and let the truth sink in. Tears escaped my eye lids and streamed down my face.
“This’ll help.” Chuck stood up and took a glass bottle from the table and handed it to me.
Taking the bottle, I downed a gulp, the thick liquid burning my throat. Handing the liquor to Amelie, I took a deep breath and pushed up. Standing, I smoothed my tank down over my pants. “When can we go get Mace? He needs to know. We have to get Sadie, make sure she’s okay. We need to get them—Mace, Ben, River, Shooter, Sadie—they’re still out there. River knows Owen best. He’ll know what to do.”
“You heard her. How do we make this happen?” Turner retrieved the laptop from the floor and set it on the table.
Squatting in front of Amelie, I whispered to her. “We’re going to get through this. We’ll get Mace.”
We plotted the best route to get as close as possible to both Mace and Sadie by roadway. Garrison left with two others to prepare the truck for the trip. Happy with the distraction from bigger problems, I grabbed my backpack. Sorting the supplies, I crossed to the water cistern and, opening the spigot, held my canteen underneath.
“You know you’re not going, right?” Turner’s voice startled me.
“Why not?”
He stepped forward so our faces were inches apart. “In case you missed that part, we are the most wanted people in the entire world right now.”
“I have been for the past four days. They haven’t found me yet.”
“We can’t get complacent.”
“You’re right. They didn’t find me because we kept moving. As soon as we get the rest of the team we relocate. But we have to know where we’re going, so let’s get to work.”
Stopping the water flow, I capped my canteen and headed back to the row of computers. We needed a plan before we could figure out which way to head. Scanning the cabin, I wondered how much food we had.
“I think we need to do some hunting.” I picked up my bow and quiver.
His hands landed on my shoulders, guiding me down to the seat behind me. “I think you need to rest or sleep or eat or something.”
“Amelie gets to go retrieve Mace and Sadie. I want something to do.”
“No, Amelie isn’t going anywhere either. Mace would want her safe here too.”
“Are we really safe here? Do we know that? What if we brainstorm ideas for dodging WWIII?” I flicked his hands off my back, slid an arrow from my bag, and cleared a space in the dirt. “Okay, ideas. Hit me, people!”
I pointed at the crew assigned to stay behind and guard us. Drawing a circle for Des Moines and the cure, I formed an arrow and traced a question mark. Next, I started listing players and possibilities. We’d already given them pints of our blood, but they’d not been able to devise a cure from the components. There had to be something else. Back engineering, I scribbled in the sand. If we stole enough vaccine and cure vials and gave them to the WHO, could they figure out how to make it? I drew an arrow from back engineering and wrote steal vials of cure. This would take a small militia. Soldiers we didn’t have. Perhaps that should have been our target in the first place.
Garrison entered with the vehicle crew, reporting it was ready to go. Noting Amelie’s blank expression, I pulled her to me and wrapped one arm around her shoulders.
Would one vial be enough? “We just need someone on the inside to steal one vial of the cure.”
Garrison heaved onto his back “They stopped distributing it. Said it was a national security risk. It’s all in one facility.”
Refocusing on my list in the dirt, I chewed on my finger. We could use a small team to break into the production facility. Did we have the location? Plans? Heading out the door, Chuck shook his head, and I crossed that idea off the list. If we couldn’t get something physical, information might be the key. Was it possible to hack into the production-facility computer system, steal the formula? Troy and the other tech guy rejected the idea, saying they’d tried that route.
I flung my arrow at the wall, and it stuck in the soft wood. Releasing Amelie, I crossed to the wall and snatched it out. I envisioned snapping the shaft. That weapon, the one Owen trained me to use, represented everything that had gone wrong the past six months. But I couldn’t waste an arrow. Spinning to face the others, I noted their wide-eyed stares. I’d lost it, was spiraling into a full out panic. I had to get my emotions under control.
“Can I go hunting?” I focused on Techie. I couldn’t be in this cottage with Turner, thinking of his father or my father. I couldn’t look at Amelie, knowing all this was my fault.
Techie tapped on his keyboard. “Sure.”
“Good.”
“Jema.” Turner caught my arm as I slung my quiver to my back.
A guy—Muscles, I named him—stood. “We’ll go with her.”
Amelie bent to pick up her pack. “We’ll get Sadie and Mace. You’ll be safe out there.”
“No. Turner nixed that idea. You should take a nap. I’ll wake you when I get back.”
Amelie folded her arms over her chest and glared at Turner. “Let me guess… too dangerous. Mace wouldn’t want me out there anyway.”
She stomped to the corner with her pack and threw it on the ground. Following her, I wrapped my arms around her. Perhaps I should stay, we should be together in our… I couldn’t even think the word.
Releasing her, I kissed her forehead. “I’ll get you a tasty duck. We’ll roast it, have a hot dinner for a change.” I crossed to the door. “We need more food in this place.”
Muscles and two other guys trailed me out of the cabin. Maybe we needed food. I had no clue. More than anything, I wanted to be outside. I needed to think. There had to be a solution. Still, I couldn’t focus. As we hiked through the forest, my mood vacillated between a ravenous need to kill everything in my path and a pit of guilt in my stomach for the broken grass blades, ants, and perhaps spiders smooshed by my boots. As the hole of remorse grew in my middle, I stopped. I had to find a duck or two or three. We had sixteen people. We needed at least four ducks. The problem being as soon as I got one the rest would spook. B
ut if I just got one for Amelie, that would be enough. Her mom used to have duck for her birthday. It would help somehow.
“Is there a pond or stream or anything?”
Muscles pointed right, and I followed him to a lake. Crouching low, I abandoned my night goggles and let my eyes adjust to the moonlit clearing. Within minutes, I spotted a pair on the opposite bank. If I launched my arrows fast enough, I could get them both. Swoop, swoop. I let them go in succession and stood to see both birds tipped over on the water. The gnawing in my stomach erupted, but I swallowed the bile rising in my throat.
This was survival. We would survive. I had to for Amelie, Sadie, Turner, Nave, and my mom. They couldn’t lose anything else. I wouldn’t let that happen.
We circled the pond and retrieved the birds. Muscles said they’d been heating meals over a fire in the corner of the cabin, and I figured that would suffice. Turner could clean the birds, and once Sadie, Mace, and the rest of the team got back, we’d have a celebratory dinner, or perhaps a wake. We were still alive, still together, that was something.
Starting back the way we’d come, I couldn’t think about my father any longer and asked them to brainstorm with me. The four of us threw out ideas as they popped into our heads: disappear, blow up the vaccine plant, kidnap Cmdr. Butler. I pelted them with questions about news from the States. I asked about public sentiment, and Muscles reported continued protests, with rioters on both sides and polling indicating people were split fifty-fifty on whether we should share the cure or not.
“So, whoever is in power gets to decide.” I ducked a tree branch. “Right now, Cmdr. Butler has the power. Our best plan failed. What news do we have from the EC and China?”
Muscles stopped as we approached the clearing where the cabin sat. “Zhou is still threatening to use a nuclear bomb, and the EC is lining up boats to create blockades.”
“Blockades won’t help. We’re self-sufficient, right?”
“Rice, rice may become limiting,” Muscles noted.
“How long?” Reaching the cabin, I swung open the door.
“The tech guy says ten days if supply isn’t compromised. Far fewer if there are runs on supply, robberies, looters, general rapture behavior.” Muscles stopped in front of me.
“Guys,” Techie whispered from inside. “You’re creating too much of a heat signature, get in here.”
Following the others, I went inside to find Turner bent over a computer screen and Amelie lying on her sleeping matt. Covering her with my jacket, I joined Turner. They were focused on monitoring the satellite movements, and I sat down, staring at the dirt floor and all my abandoned ideas.
“She’s probably in shock, barely even reacted to the news from Port Orford.” A voice seeped into my consciousness. Turner? Troy?
“How long has she been like this?” Sadie.
Sadie! I blinked and realized Sadie sat in front of me. Flinging my arms around her, I squeezed tight. I released her and scanned the room. Mace, River… they all were there.
“River.” I pointed at the list in the dirt. “You have to help. We need you to help with this. Figure out what to do. You know Butler better than anyone.”
River knelt beside me. “Trying to plan out what to do next, are we?”
“Yes. We need either to get one sniper in to take out Butler, or kidnap him, or something.”
He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Sounds like a tall order. We should focus on the cure. How do we get it or someone who knows how they made it?”
The perfect idea popped into my brain. “Dena.”
Turner crossed to the computer bank and started typing on a keyboard. “You’re right. She’s the perfect target. She developed the cure.”
The room erupted with chatter. I blocked them out as Lovelock vets answered questions from Sadie and the new team members. Focusing on Turner’s screen, I watched as he tapped in commands, bringing up satellite images of Dena, one from the previous day of her walking into a coffee shop.
“Bingo. We’re eating duck now.” I jumped into the air.
Wide-eyed stares greeted me again, but I didn’t care. We had a plan, and it was a good one.
I stared at the carcasses of duck on the makeshift spits. The cooking method ventured far from ideal. A wire stand held the breasts in front of an open stove. Each time it needed more wood, we moved the ducks to keep the fire going. I had no clue how long it would take to cook our dinner. Did I care? At least the stove served the dual purpose of heating the room, and my clothes felt dry for the first time in days.
Squeezing Amelie’s arm, I hugged her to me. Mace lay beside her, head resting on her legs, sleeping. How could he sleep? Beyond them, Sadie lay on a bed we formed from stacking all our sleep mats together. Her complexion rosy, her chest rose and fell in rhythm. Beyond her, green light from a laptop illuminated Turner’s face. How was he functioning? He must be worried sick about his mom. Like me, he was an action person. He had a job to do, and it kept him going.
Refocusing on the meat in front of me, I rotated the spit a quarter turn.
“My mouth is watering just smelling those birds.” Shooter leaned over our cooking apparatus, rubbing his palms together.
“With this many people, we’re not going to get much.”
He squatted beside me. “Plan is solid for getting the woman. We’ll be in—”
I lifted my hand. “I don’t want to know. Just do it.”
“Okay.” He stood and retreated from my field of vision.
Odd how I felt about Dena. She’d developed a cure and vaccine to ward off hundreds of thousands of deaths, and yet every time I pictured her face, the eyes flamed red, horns sprouted from her forehead, and fangs grew from her jaw. She sided with Butler, and that slated her on the wrong side in my book, the side of kidnappers and killers. I struggled to wrap my head around their viewpoint. I got the whole take-care-of-your-own-mentality strategy. My sole priority had been making sure Nave and Mom were safe. But what did Butler plan to do about Zhou and the EC? Did he think they would back down? I struggled for an answer beyond my prior conclusion. My father was dead, and the only other men who could stand in for him, Butler and Zhou, seemed to be evil dictators. What did that make me? The Angel of Death, just like everyone believed.
Amelie drew in a long breath, straightening her back and letting her shoulders slump to their prior position. She rubbed her hand over Mace’s head, letting it rest on his chest. I saw her gaze trained on the fire and rubbed her arm.
Withdrawing my hand from around her back, I uncurled my legs and leaned over the birds. I cut into the breast and clear juice flowed from the center. I lifted the spit and lay the birds on a plastic tarp, cutting the meat from the bone and spreading it out in chunks. Stabbing a piece, I held it out to Avia.
Taking the meat, she patted Mace’s chest, coaxing him to wake up. I crossed to Sadie and held a piece of meat in front of her nose. Her eyes fluttered, and her lips turned up, forming a smile as she opened them. Tears welled in my eyes. For as much as I needed her affection, my psyche screamed, how can anyone love you, how can you expect compassion?
Sitting up, she wrapped her arms around my middle. My heart raced and chest heaved in sporadic motions. You will not break down. This is not over. I looked at Turner and exhaled a slow deep breath. We were still alive. Alive. That fact brought the next. My dad was dead. You will forge on.
Pulling away from Sadie, I speared another chunk of meat and took it to Turner. He shook his head, saying our team needed it more than he did. I passed it to River. At his cue, Ben and Carl lumbered over to the duck, claiming their share. The cabin fell silent with only the sound of the popping wood from the stove. The notion that I should hunt again ambled across my consciousness, but my body didn’t respond. Getting up from his seat, Turner crossed the room to me, guiding my head to his lap. I watched from that vantage point, room on its side, legs passing my line of sight, my mind blank until exhaustion won.
I woke to the sound of feet shuffli
ng across the dirt on, my head supported by a jacket. Pushing up on one arm, I took in the scene. A line of light under the door caused me to squint—daytime, full sun, mid-morning at least, day T minus twenty-five. Turner and Techie sat huddled over the laptop. Behind them, River and the rest formed various groups, each seeming deep in conversation. I blinked. My father was dead. I pushed that truth out.
“Where are Amelie and Sadie?”
Turner crossed the room and knelt beside me. “They went out hunting with Mace and the guy you call Muscles.”
“Is Sadie okay? Should she be out? And Mace and Muscles hunting? Seriously?” I snatched the jacket and shoved my arm in a sleeve. “All that testosterone is going to scare everything away for a five-mile radius. I should head out there.”
Turner ran his hands down my arms. “Sadie is okay. Shooter checked her out. She just needed rest. All of you did. You should take it easy. There’s plenty to do.”
River glanced up from his conversation with Garrison. “We go out in fours, nothing less. That’s the rule. We can’t spare more people to go out with you right now.”
I perched my hand on my hip. “Who made you—”
Turner jiggled my arm. “Come on, Jema. Sit down, eat something, get centered.”
Snatching my arm from his grip, I stepped back. “I can’t be in my head right now. I need something to do.”
“Okay.” He gathered a heap of garments from the floor. “They need street clothes, and these need to look presentable. Can you sew them?”
He handed me a stack of pants and jackets. Looking through them, I found rips and holes in various places. Sitting down, I searched my backpack and found the sewing kit on the bottom. Threading my needle, I started sewing up a rip in a pant leg. The task left me too much time to think. Could we really get to Des Moines, get Dena, get her out of the country and somehow get her to the WHO or EC in twenty-five days? Or did just knowing they would have her be enough?
“When are we going after Dena? How are we contacting the EC?”
River approached and squatted in front of me. “You aren’t going anywhere. Well, that’s not true. Muscles and his crew are going to get me, Chuck, and Garrison to Des Moines. We’ll fetch Little Miss Scientist and rendezvous with you down south, on the coast. Turner and Techie are working on figuring out the details for her transfer.”
Torch Page 20
