Mabe (Earth Resistance Book 5)

by Theresa Beachman

  Darr’s serious face cracked into a smile. “Everyone all right?”

  “Alive. Doesn’t get much better than that.” Mabe grasped Darr’s hand and shook it. “That was—” He ran out of words, as if unable to verbalize what he’d just seen.

  One arm still wrapped around Mabe, Sarah did the same, holding Darr’s hand for a few seconds. “I don’t understand what you did, but thank you.”

  The corners of his mouth tugged up. “Anytime. All the other drones failed. You got yours in?”

  “Yes.” She tightened her grip on Mabe as giddiness washed over her. “We did.”

  Mabe grinned and kissed the top of her head. “I never doubted you.”

  Foster rubbed his hands together. “Can’t wait. Here’s hoping they will all stagger outside and die a gory death for my viewing pleasure. But—” He checked his watch. “It will be dark soon. Garrick and Sawyer have taken Anna and Julia and headed back to Brackla.” He inclined his head at Darr. “We’ve taken first watch.”

  Darr swung up into the Coyote.

  Foster tossed the bike keys to Mabe. “Take the bike. It’s more fun for two.” He cocked his head at Darr. “We’ll let you know what happens with the hive.” He patted his stomach. “Darr loves my campfire cooking.”

  Darr shot him the finger and ducked down into the steering cab.

  Sarah released a breath as tension bled from every pore in her body. She’d done it, delivered a lethal dose to the heart of the hive. She closed her eyes, remembering the lives lost that had made this possible.

  “Diana would be proud.” Mabe’s voice was a gentle rumble against her skin.

  “Yes.” Happy tears soaked her face, and she didn’t care. “She would be.”

  He guided her over to the bike. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  43

  Mabe swung the bike into the bone yard and slowed, winding the bike through the littered lot. The quiet was a jarring contrast to the screaming chaos of the hive. It had taken miles before the din in his head had retreated enough for his heart rate to ease and his fingers to loosen on the throttle. He dismounted and helped Sarah from the bike. The bone yard was unnaturally still as he scanned the lot, but only wind whispered in his ears.

  Sarah watched his face. “You hear something?”

  Fatigue creased the corners of her eyes, and color smudged her cheeks. He’d never seen anything so damn beautiful.

  He smiled. “No, I’m good.” He reached for her hand. “Especially now that we’re both in one piece. What do we need?”

  “The rest of my files, and I promised Riley we’d collect more of Diana’s things. Stuff she didn’t have time to collect earlier.” The skin across her cheeks drew taut.

  He took her hand, stroking the small bones under his thumb. “It’s going to be okay.” For the first time, he believed it. Saw a way forward that didn’t just involve surviving until the Chittrix ground them out. And the brilliant, sexy woman in front of him was the reason why. “How long for the virus to work?”

  “About twenty-four hours based on last—” Her hand flew to her throat, her gaze locked on the bottom step of Carven House. Her voice was a strangled gasp. “Mabe. There’s a bike.”

  “I see it.” His neck stiffened, his thoughts scrambling to make sense of what he saw. “It’s mine. From Brackla.”

  Sarah let go of his hand. “What?” She hurried forward to the entrance steps where the motorbike lay tilted in the dirt.

  God, no.

  He bent and picked up the small backpack as if its owner had just left to collect a library book.

  Riley’s backpack.

  He rotated a full three-hundred-and-sixty, his stomach clenching. A sudden breeze puffed dust, but they were alone.

  “My God, Mabe. It’s Riley’s.”

  Mabe gritted his teeth. “I know.” Tension pounded in his temples as he checked for signs of blood. Nothing. The backpack was clean. He unslung his pulse rifle and faced Carven House. “Let’s go find her.”

  44

  Sarah fell into step beside Mabe as they climbed the steps to Carven. The inside of the foyer was gloomy, but enough light filtered through to reveal the elevator shaft was open once more.

  With a jerk of his head, Mabe indicated for her to follow as he crossed the scored tiles. Every step they took was preternaturally loud against her eardrums. Chittrix hearing was far more sensitive than human. If there was one here, it would have advance warning.

  She slowed as she reached the elevator shaft. Human hands hadn’t opened it. She traced the warped edge of the metal with her fingertips. It had been torn as if made of paper. Tremors shook her hand, betraying her nerves. There was only one thing that could rip metal like this, and that was a Chittrix.

  She kept her voice low, her ears straining for sound. Where the hell was Riley? “Mabe.”

  “Yeah. I see. Chittrix. A big one.”

  His voice was a low mutter, edged with frustration. He dropped to his knees and took a cautious look into the dark elevator shaft.

  Cold metallic air rushed up from below and blood boomed in her ears. “I told her I would collect Diana’s things. Maybe she thought we weren’t coming back…” Her voice cracked. “Mabe, what if she’s dead? I just couldn’t—” Her throat clogged with emotion, too overwhelming to swallow. She couldn’t bear that. Not after everything they’d been through. Riley had to be alive. The alternative was too devastating.

  “All the lights are out.” He stared at the dead bulb in the ceiling before returning to the lip of the shaft. “I can’t see a damn thing.” He activated the light on his pulse rifle and aimed it down. Shadows stirred below, dancing on the edges of Mabe’s light “She’s not in the shaft.”

  A moment of sweet relief engulfed her. Riley hadn’t fallen to her death. But, if she was below, surely there would be signs of life? Sarah checked over her shoulder. “Maybe she didn’t come in? What if she’s still outside?”

  Mabe pressed his lips together, considering the idea. “We check the building first. It’s contained.” He unclipped the flashlight from his body armor and handed it to her, his jaw set. “After that, we move the search outside.”

  “Okay.” But this was not okay. Nothing about this was okay. She blew out a breath, flexed her fingers, ignoring her pounding heart. She kneeled and gripped the ragged shaft edge, focusing on the wild movement of his light as he descended into the dense darkness.

  Riley needed her.

  Sarah looped the flashlight around her wrist and swung out into the gloom. The metal struts cut into her palms and loose wires tangled with her feet, but gradually the square of daylight above her head faded, and she was standing at the bottom. The stench of oil and rubber assaulted her nostrils.

  Mabe aimed his light beam into the corridor. The darkness was absolute, sucking at the edges of the yellow glow as he scanned left and right. “Where’s Diana’s room?”

  Sarah pointed left, to the bottom of the corridor. “Through the main lab, last room on the left.”

  He grunted and cupped her cheek in the dark, lighting fireworks across her skin. “Stay close to me.”

  She dipped her cheek into his palm before tramping on the fear that bowed her spine, drawing strength from his caress. “That won’t be a problem.”

  He stepped out into the main corridor, sweeping his weapon from side to side.

  Dust danced in the light. Swirling from a recent disturbance? It was impossible to tell. She fell into step beside him, casting her flashlight over their retreat, reassuring herself that nothing was rushing up behind.

  Mabe pushed open the door to the main lab with the nose of his gun. The room was in disarray, papers scattered on the floor. A pipe had ruptured in the ceiling and water dripped onto an upturned book, the pages bulging. A chair lay on its side and one of the computer monitors blinked on and off, giving the room a strange hypnotic atmosphere.

  China shattered, the noise loud enough to make Sarah’s heart stutter. She swung her fla
shlight wildly, searching for the source of the disturbance.

  “There.” His voice was a soft murmur, illumination from his rifle picking out a small brown rat on a countertop. Its eyes reflected demonic red before it whirled and was gone, jumping over the pen pot it had smashed.

  Sweet God. She sagged against Mabe, drawing strength from the heat of his back and the steady thump of his pulse under her fingertips.

  He squeezed her hand. “Still alive?”

  “Barely.”

  “I definitely prefer you that way.”

  Despite everything, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Me too.”

  Another minute and they had crossed the lab without further incident, edging through the door to the next corridor. Sarah released the breath she’d been holding as quietly as she could. God, it was even darker on the other side, if that was possible.

  Light wavered as Mabe scanned the next hellish stage. “Fuck.” He thumped his rifle against his thigh and the sickly light shone brighter again. “Battery’s dying.”

  The idea of having to find their way out in the obsidian blackness by touch alone made her mouth go dry. “Let’s hurry.”

  He moved into the corridor. God, she didn’t want to follow him down there. If the power was off, the exit door would be locked. It was a dead end. A trap. She forced herself one step at a time.

  Hold on, Riley, we’re coming for you.

  Doors passed with excruciating slowness. Sarah counted them, anything to distract herself from the suffocating blackness bearing down on her.

  “Hey.” Mabe shone his light on a door handle. His circle of light rose, highlighting a post-it note stuck to the beaten wood, Diana and Riley written on it in Diana’s elegant hand. He turned the handle, the oiled clicks of the mechanism thundering in the unnatural silence. Sarah’s legs were loose, ready to bolt at any second.

  Mabe poked the door open with his rifle.

  A black pit beckoned on the other side as Sarah swept the floor with her flashlight beam. Empty. When the beam wobbled in her shaking hand, Mabe closed his hand over hers. He pressed his thumb to the inside of her wrist.

  She swallowed, grateful for his strength and steady calm.

  He released her hand and entered the room, pivoting with surprising grace for such a big man. Yellow light bounced from all the everyday things that should be here. Books. Computer files. A worn cardigan hanging on the back of a chair. A framed picture of Riley. Ordinary things that made her throat swell with the grief of a life lost.

  A shadow sprang at Mabe.

  Sarah swung her flashlight.

  Riley.

  Her eyes were too wide and fixed as she collided with Mabe. He folded around her, hitting the floor with a soft grunt, light scattering around the room like an alien freak show.

  Sarah rushed forward, relief bubbling through her.

  Riley squawked. “Get off me.”

  Sarah trained the beam on Mabe as he climbed to his feet. One hand restrained Riley by the scruff of her neck like an errant kitten.

  “Let go of me,” she hissed, wrestling with futile jerks in his grip.

  Sarah caught Riley’s face between her hands, swept disheveled hair from the girl’s face. “What are you doing here? The others must be out of their minds with worry about you.”

  Riley stopped struggling. Her cheeks were filthy, damp with tears. She sniffed and sagged—all of her fight vaporized.

  Sarah stepped forward. “Sweetheart.”

  Mabe released her, and her scrawny frame collapsed into Sarah’s arms.

  God, there was nothing of her. Riley’s heart raced, thumping against Sarah like a trapped bird. “I came for my mum’s stuff—” She hiccupped. “I just… I just… I snuck out. I’m sorry I thought you weren’t coming back, and then I wouldn’t get it and—”

  “Hush. We’re here now.” Sarah pressed a fierce kiss to the top of Riley’s messy head. “Everything is going to be fine.”

  “There’s one…” Riley’s breathing was all over the place. She was gasping, fighting the fear that overrode all her reflexes. “There’s one—”

  “Chittrix? We know.” Mabe dropped to his knees and tilted his head toward the now closed door. He held up his hand in a gesture of silence and deactivated the light on his rifle.

  Sarah held her breath and smoothed tears from Riley’s cheeks. God, what she wouldn’t give to just magic them out of here. The walk back to the elevator shaft was a marathon. But they didn’t have a choice.

  She opened her mouth to whisper, but her words died on her lips.

  Click. Scrape.

  Click. Scrape.

  Claws on tiles. And a strange snuffling noise.

  Mabe killed her flashlight, his capable hands covering hers.

  She held her breath until red dots wheeled at the boundaries of her vision. Sweet God. Please, just go. Riley’s nails dug into arm, breaking the skin. Sarah focused on the pain, desperate to scour the clicking from her mind.

  Click. Scrape.

  Click.

  Sarah bit down on her lip, muffling the scream expanding within her. The noise faded, but she wanted to weep. It had moved past them, toward the elevator shaft, putting itself firmly between them and escape. She worked against her dry mouth. “How are we going to get past it?”

  “I want to go home.” Riley’s voice cracked. Sarah hugged her hot little body tighter. “Soon, sweetheart.”

  A lighter flickered, and Mabe’s face appeared in the glow. “We are taking you home, Riley.” He looked straight at Sarah. “Once I’ve dealt with the Chittrix.”

  “I’m coming with you.” The words were out before she’d even thought them. Her voice was suddenly strong. She meant it with every fiber of her being.

  Emotion flickered over Mabe’s face. Conflict?

  “We have a better chance with both of us.”

  He nodded. “Okay.” He took Riley’s hands and wrapped them around his pulse rifle. “You take this, and you stay right here. We will come back for you. If anything, other than Sarah or me, comes through the door, you blow it the hell away. You got that?”

  “We can’t leave her here,” Sarah protested.

  But Mabe ignored her, double-checking the weapon. When he looked up his face was serious. “We can, and we will. We deal with this, and then we come back for her. This is the safest way.” He held her gaze. He was right. Even though she didn’t want him to be. The thought of leaving Riley here made her stomach cramp.

  Riley wiped her nose on her sleeve before taking control of the gun. “Okay,” she whispered.

  “Good.” Mabe tucked a loose hair behind Riley’s ear. “You know how to shoot this thing?”

  “Mum showed me.” Her voice was small, the teenage swagger of only a few days ago vanquished.

  Mabe stood up and peered into the closet she’d been hiding in. He pulled a face of approval. “Hiding place is just fine.”

  Riley scrabbled back into the closet, only the nose of the pulse rifle peeking out.

  He unholstered his handgun and checked the barrel. “You okay, Riley?”

  Her reply was muffled. “Uh, huh.”

  He stretched out a hand to Sarah. “You ready?”

  “Yes.” She slipped the second rifle from her shoulder and held it out to him, but his head twitched in a tiny motion of denial. His jaw hardened as he lifted his SIG. “I’m good.”

  He placed two fingers under her chin and tilted her face upward. “I’m not planning on dying yet.” He pressed his lips to hers, his kiss imbibing her with confidence.

  When he broke away, he was smiling and she was breathless, her heart in her throat.

  He angled the flashlight at the door. “Let’s get this done.”

  45

  Mabe slipped into the corridor, his pulse a fierce hammer in his chest.

  One pulse rifle, a handgun, and a knife tucked in his boot between them. Not the best odds he’d ever contemplated. Still, he took a breath and breathed out, focusing on
the yellow spot of the flashlight, ignoring the pain circling his temple. The need to protect Sarah and Riley washed through him, powerful, clearing his mind, cementing his resolve.

  They could do this. He would do this. Whatever it took to keep her and Riley safe.

  He motioned for Sarah to follow as he crept up the corridor, to where soft sounds preceded them.

  Scrape. Click

  Scrape. Click.

  He closed his eyes, striving to get a bearing on the sound.

  It was ahead, still in the narrow corridor, blocking their access to the main lab and escape. He scoured his memory. The corridor was about eight feet wide, the ceiling low. “We need to get it somewhere else, somewhere we have a fighting chance. The corridor is a death trap.”

  The sounds stopped at the sound of his voice. Shit.

  Sarah’s hand found his and clutched it tightly. “Biggest lab, second door on the left.”

  There would be solid lab benches to hide behind. He squeezed her hand in acknowledgment and moved off, his gun raised like a talisman before him.

  He counted the doors. The second was battered and blue, with a small window of wired glass. He read the sign.

  Viral Modification.

  The door opened reluctantly, protesting. He winced. Shit, too loud. A hint of clicking in his ears. Echolocation. Pinpointing them in the dark.

  Fucker.

  He stepped into the lab with Sarah, pulling her close to his side, angling his flashlight to calculate a quick sense of the space. Lab benches lined the walls at right angles to the door all the way to the back of the room. His flashlight slid over a glass cabinet at the rear, brightly stickered with warning signs, rubber gloves for handling toxic substances still hanging from inserts.

  Quick steps took him behind the final bench, the stickered cabinet at his back.

  He pulled Sarah to a crouch, switched his light off, and pressed his mouth to her ear. “Stay here. I’m going up the other side, to come in behind it.”

  A shiver shook her, and she grabbed his hand. “No, Mabe—”

  He covered her hand with his. Delicate bones trembled in his grasp. And even though he knew she could stand her ground and fight her own corner, instincts welled strong and immutable within him. “Trust me.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We can do this.” He caught her cheek with one palm and kissed her hard, savoring the taste of her one last time. “Stay here.”