Red Zone

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Red Zone Page 10

by Janet Elizabeth Henderson


  “Nothin’ Chère, unless you count those wicked thoughts you’ve been having about the two of us.” Of course he made it sound like her wicked thoughts were sexual instead of her trying to come up with ways to maim him.

  “I don’t like being the center of attention.” It made her want to run, but seeing as she didn’t know where she was, or where she’d run to, there wasn’t much point.

  “Don’t panic. We just got some things we need to tell you.”

  That was not reassuring. And it didn’t ease her mind any that the people gathered were serious and intense. There weren’t any smiles. No teasing looks. Shoulders were tense. Eyes were dark. Whatever they were going to tell her, she wasn’t going to like.

  “It’s about our deal, bébé.” He toyed with her hair. “It’s about what I expect you to do to pay off your debt.”

  And just like that, she felt the color drain from her face. She swayed, her mind going places she really didn’t want it to go. Her fingers clenched tightly together in her lap and her mouth was suddenly dry. Striker’s eye sparkled as he leaned into her. He whispered against her ear, “You’re thinking about sex again. Bébé, you got to get your mind out of the gutter. This has nothing to do with that. If that happens, it will just be between me and you.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t believe a word of it. Not when there was obviously something going on that she didn’t understand. She swallowed hard as he sat back in his chair, giving her an indulgent smile that said he found her amusing.

  Striker shared a look with Mace, then took a deep breath. “We need a scientist.” He ran a hand over his face. “We want you to work in the lab with Doc during your year here.”

  Okay, she wasn’t expecting that. “But…I thought you wanted my body.”

  He threw back his head, his laughter echoing through the cave, and her cheeks burned. Well, this was humiliating. Apparently, wanting her was a laughing matter. She couldn’t believe she had an audience for this.

  When he’d calmed down, Striker ran his knuckles down one of her burning cheeks. “I do want your body. But I also want your mind. Your body was never part of our bargain. I just couldn’t tell you what the bargain was, exactly, out there in the world.”

  She glanced at the men, who were amused by her exchange with their leader. They weren’t anything like the men she was used to, and she didn’t quite know how to deal with them without feeling foolish.

  “What do you want my mind to do?” She tried to sound as detached and professional as possible.

  “Before I answer that, I gotta tell you a story.” He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. “Do you know where you are?”

  The question threw her. “Mexico? The Southern Coalition? Your base of operations?”

  He shook his head slowly, his eye on her. “I told you earlier, we still need to get through the EMP barrier into the Southern Coalition.”

  As his words penetrated, it became hard to breathe. “You can’t mean…”

  He pointed up. “Look, chère.”

  Anxiously, cautiously, she did. There was a hole in the cave ceiling. Someone had made a wooden trap for it, presumably to keep out the weather. The trap was open. It was daylight.

  And the sky was red.

  Her hands shot out to grip the edge of the table. “We’re in the Red Zone?” It was a whisper. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. But, above her, there was a thick cloud of red covering the large opening where the sky should have been. She shot to her feet as panic hit her like a blow to the stomach, making her nauseous. “We need to run. It isn’t safe.”

  A strong hand grasped her arm, holding her firmly in place. “Sit down. You’re safe here. You think I’d let something bad happen to you?”

  She forced herself to look at Striker instead of the exit. “I think you’d be willing to let me die if it suited your purpose.”

  “Ouch!” someone said.

  He glowered at her. “Well, it don’t suit my purpose none. Now sit your cute ass down and listen.”

  She looked at the rest of the team. No one else seemed in a hurry to run screaming from the Red Zone. In fact, they all sat calmly watching her. Slowly, she lowered herself to her seat, grasping Striker’s hand and holding on tight. Suddenly his penchant for invading her personal space was a comfort rather than an irritant.

  He muttered something in a reassuring tone in a language she didn’t understand, before switching to English. “Good girl. I know this is a lot to take in. Are you okay?”

  She swallowed. “Don’t say ‘good girl.’ It’s patronizing.”

  There were chuckles, and he smiled wryly at his team. “Guess that’s a yes.” He turned his attention back to her. “Remember I told you that the red mist lifted from the water first?”

  She nodded, although that conversation seemed like a lifetime ago.

  “It lifted from other places, too. It just took a little longer. This cave system is one of them. The mist sits a few feet above it.”

  His words acted like a switch in her mind. It flicked from scared to curious. In an instant, the adrenaline flooding her system and telling her to escape rushed to her mind and prodded her to demand answers. She relaxed. This was her comfort zone—analysis, research, study.

  “Did it leave residue? Is it safe? What if it moves again and comes back down? Are you monitoring it? Are you sure the cave system is empty?”

  “And she’s back.” Striker’s smile made her insides warm in a way she didn’t fully understand. “Nothing stops that big brain of yours for long.”

  “The mist won’t come back into the caves.” Doc pulled up a chair on the opposite side of the table. “It’s been steadily dispersing from this area for years. We monitor it closely. Its distance from the cave increases each day. It’s slow, but it’s definitely moving away. If it changed direction and suddenly started to fall again, we’d know instantly. There is no residue in the caves. The red mist only lingers on biological matter. All of this”—he gestured to the furniture—“was salvaged from the mist. It’s safe. If it wasn’t, you’d be dead already.”

  It didn’t slip her notice that he’d said she’d be dead, not they’d be dead. She added that little slip to the list she was compiling of things she needed more information on.

  “How long have you been here? How long have you been monitoring the mist over the caves? How did you find this place? How did you find out about the paths through the mist, anyway?” Now that she thought about it, that should have been a question to ask a whole lot earlier.

  “One question at a time.” Striker held up a hand to slow her down. “Okay, first, we’ve been monitoring the mist over the caves for about three years. That’s the same amount of time we’ve been mapping the paths through the mist.”

  “Are you out of your minds? How could you do something so dangerous?” She gaped at them. “Do you all have a death wish? How did you know when you followed a path that it wouldn’t close in on you? How did you know you’d be able to get out without getting hurt? Are you stupid?”

  “The stupid part is something we can debate another time,” Striker said wryly. “As to how long we’ve been here.” The room suddenly grew serious, heavy even. The words he was about to say were there already, hanging in the air between them. The hairs on Friday’s arms stood to attention. She knew whatever he said would change her life forever—what she had left of it.

  “We’ve been here, in these caves, for about a hundred and three years. Give or take a month or two. But we’ve only been awake for about three years. The rest of the time we were unconscious.”

  There was an expectant silence as everyone waited for her reaction. She couldn’t speak. She could barely comprehend what he was telling her. It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t real. She was hallucinating. A side effect of the poison she’d taken.

  “It’s not possible,” she whispered. “You were unconscious for a century?”

  She looked at each of them in turn. There was no humor in the
room. The atmosphere was deadly serious. As shocked as she was, her eyes still scanned for data. They appeared healthy. They seemed to range in age from mid-twenties to mid-thirties. It wasn’t possible that they’d been unconscious for a century. He was talking about stasis. And the scientific community had given up on that idea decades earlier. People placed in stasis didn’t come out right once they awakened. It was too unstable a practice. Too dangerous. She shook her head. “It isn’t possible.”

  “Yeah, we thought that, too.” Striker gave her hair a little tug to get her attention. “All we know is that one minute we were fighting for the United States in the Technology Wars, and the next minute we woke up in these caves.” He paused, clenching her hand tight. “And, we woke up changed.”

  Slowly, he reached up with his free hand and tugged off the flexi-patch that covered his eye. The eyelid on his hidden eye lifted, and she found herself staring into the vertical pupil of a bright yellow iris. It wasn’t the eye of a human being. It was the eye of a reptile.

  It was the eye of a snake.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Striker had expected hysteria. Fainting maybe. He’d had Doc prepare a pressure injector with a sedative in case they needed it—now that Friday had assured them it wouldn’t affect the poison. What he hadn’t been prepared for was, well, nothing. Friday appeared frozen as she stared at him, her face expressionless. There was nothing there at all. She’d completely checked out.

  He shot a worried glance at their medic. “Doc?”

  The man ran a hand through his sandy hair. “I don’t know. This is a new one. Never seen anybody react like this before.”

  “Is she a cyborg?” Mace reached for his coffee. “The Territories fill their people with all sorts of cyber shit. Maybe she’s rebooting.”

  “Not helping,” Striker snapped.

  What if he’d broken her? What if she couldn’t cope with the secrets he’d shared? No. She was stronger than that. He’d seen her in action. She was sheltered, sure, but braver than most people he knew. He shook her gently. Still no reaction.

  Mace stood taking his coffee mug with him. “I’m getting a refill. She’s been like that for fifteen minutes, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to end anytime soon. Might as well get comfy.”

  Striker turned to their medic. “Is there anything you can give her to, you know, get her started again?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. An upper?”

  “You think I have speed in my med kit?”

  “I don’t even think they make speed anymore,” Sandi said. “You guys are about a hundred years out of date when it comes to drugs.”

  Striker took Friday’s hand in his and patted it. There was no reaction. She was blinking, but that was about it. “We’ve got to do something. Look at her.”

  “Try slapping her,” Sandi said.

  He gave her a death glare.

  “Bucket of ice water over the head.” Mace sat back down at the table.

  Maybe…

  “That could shock her into cardiac arrest,” Doc said, killing that idea.

  “Kiss her.” It was a grumbled order from Gray Hanson. Their lethal teammate rarely spoke but never missed a thing, which made everyone listen to anything he had to say.

  “Kiss her?” A shock went through him at the thought. Find out how she tasted? Know for sure, instead of imagining, and bring her back to him at the same time? “I can do that.”

  He cupped her cheeks in his hands. She was so damn small compared to him. Fragile. Easily broken. He needed to remember that. Slowly, softly, he lowered his lips to hers. It was like touching lightning.

  Her lips were satin soft and gave easily under his touch. But she didn’t react. Cold fear slid through him, and he fought it back, redoubling his efforts to rouse her. Angling his head, he gently teased her lips with his, staring into her vacant blue eyes, willing her to come back to him. His tongue nipped out to stroke along her lower lip, tasting, teasing. He thought he felt a faint sigh brush against his mouth. His heart raced as he pressed his lips more firmly against hers.

  And then her eyelids fluttered closed.

  A surge of hope welled up inside him, and he teased the seam of her lips with his tongue. A gasp of breath was his reply. A heartbeat later, her lips moved against his. Striker wrapped his arm around her, pulling her tight against him as he threaded his fingers through her hair. When her tongue snuck out to touch his, he poured his relief into their kiss.

  She tasted just as he imagined she would. Of sultry nights spent on the bayou. Of teasing words whispered into the ear of a lover. She tasted of everything he’d thought he’d lost.

  She tasted of home.

  Slowly, as if coming out of a daze, she pressed her hands to his chest and pushed. Reluctantly, he ended their kiss.

  “Why are you kissing me?” She blinked several times before glancing away from him. “And why are you doing it while people watch? We talked about this. No audience. Remember?” Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink.

  He couldn’t help but grin at her indignation, while fighting the urge to pull her close and hold her tight, until his heart stopped racing. “Bébé, that agreement was for sex.”

  “Same thing.”

  “If you think kissing is the same as sex, then I need to spend some time educating you. It will be my pleasure.” He cupped her cheek. “You scared me.”

  She nuzzled his palm for a second before lifting her head. “Why?”

  “You’ve been comatose for the past fifteen minutes.”

  “Oh.” She frowned and then shook her head. “I didn’t realize. I have no idea what to tell you. I don’t think that’s ever happened before.”

  “Is it the Interferan-X?”

  That damn poison was a time bomb ticking away inside her. Who knew what kind of problems it could cause.

  “No. I think it was shock.” She trailed a fingertip under his mutated eye. “You’re part snake. It’s a lot to take in.”

  “I get that. It scared the hell out of me when I woke up. Come here, bébé, let me hold you until my heart stops racing.”

  He gave her his best puppy dog look.

  She huffed out a sigh but climbed into his lap. “You use that charm of yours to get your own way far too often.”

  “You sayin’ I’m irresistible?” He grinned at her.

  “You’re something all right.” She snuggled in closer to him, relaxing in his arms.

  He nuzzled at the spot behind her ear that fascinated him, while his team laughed. They thought he was joking, teasing her, seducing her. But he wasn’t. He needed to hold her, to reassure himself she was okay. “Don’t blank out on me again.” It was a foolish order to give, but he couldn’t stop himself.

  “How am I supposed to do that? It’s not like it’s something I can control. Maybe I should get out of your lap? You seem calm now.”

  He tightened his hold. “You changed your mind about touching me, now you know about the snake?” He was joking around, but still found himself holding his breath for her answer.

  She rolled her eyes dramatically. It was cute. “Don’t be stupid. And I never decided to touch you in the first place. You blackmailed me into it.”

  “Bébé, I didn’t blackmail you for your body. I did it for that big brain of yours. But, having your sweet body would be a nice side benefit.”

  “Striker!” She smacked his chest. “Let me go. I have questions.”

  “Chère, that ain’t no surprise. You always have questions. Ask away. But how about you ask them from right where you are? That way if you check out again, I can kiss you until you check back in.”

  She relaxed back into him. Obviously, she was just as eager to break their contact as he was. “That is not an appropriate way to deal with a person who’s in shock.”

  “As entertaining as this dynamic is,” Mace cut in, “we have some things we need to deal with.”

  “He’s right.” He kissed Friday gently. “You okay?�
��

  She softened and nodded, her focus on his yellow eye. “Does the changed iris affect your vision? Is it the reason you can see in the dark? How did it happen? Is that why you’re hiding out? Have you been seen by a doctor?”

  “And she’s back again.” He relaxed into his chair but kept an arm around her waist to keep her close. “Doc? You want to take it from here?”

  “Sure. We can’t see anyone in the medical profession because we don’t want word to get out about us.”

  Jeremiah, the ex-army chaplain, interrupted, “They’d lock us up and turn us into experiments. Not a great reward for a bunch of soldiers who died for their country. None of us are keen on being dissected in the name of science.”

  The fact Friday didn’t even try to argue against Jeremiah’s logic was telling. She knew, just as much as the rest of them, that their secrets would get them killed.

  “Far as we can figure,” Doc continued, “the mineral composition of these caves is unique, and we think it interacted with the red mist to form something new. Something that had never been seen before or tested. The mist inside the caves reacted differently than the mist outside of them. Instead of killing all biological life within the caves, it adapted it, merging species that sheltered in the cave during the blast.”

  “Merged?” Friday interrupted as she gently smoothed a fingertip under his eye again, staring at it in fascination.

  “Yeah,” their medic said. “Snakes, bears, mountain lions, pretty much everything you’d find in this region. Everything that’d taken to the caves during the conflict. When we got warning the bomb was being dropped, we were near the caves and ran into them, too. Next thing we know, it’s a hundred years later and we wake up alone. No animals. At least, none we could find.”

  “What we think”—Striker rubbed his hand up and down her arm, reassuring her, or maybe himself—“is that our DNA merged with the animal closest to us. We kind of absorbed the DNA of the other creature.”

  She inclined her head, considering. “The stronger DNA won out.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You merged with a snake.” She traced the tattoo on his neck with her fingertips. “A diamondback. Do you have a poisonous bite? Can you detect heat signatures? Do you have to eat live rats now?”

 

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