“Let’s hope Jack left,” Raze muttered, exiting the truck, leaving his door open for a quick getaway. He settled his stance and took a moment as Jax did the same thing, not moving.
Birds trilled above, their chirping cheerful in the chilling quiet. No sound came from the ground or from the homes around them. No children laughing, no lawn mowers humming, no cars honking. No life.
Raze caught Jax’s eye and gave a short nod.
Jax nodded back, any congeniality gone from his stone-cold face. Leading with his gun, he kept to the brick and started making his way down the rest of the driveway past the house.
Raze stayed on his six, emerging onto a square of concrete with a metal shop on the far side. The twenty-foot garage door was closed, as was the bright yellow man-size door to the side.
The wind picked up, scattering palm leaves against the house, while the birds continued to chatter. So long as they kept up the noise, he wasn’t too worried.
Jax kept his gun low and sidestepped across the empty lot to twist the doorknob of the shop. It turned easily and swung open. He leaned against the far side.
Raze hustled his way, his peripheral vision working hard, and stopped on the other side of the door. “I’ll go low.” He waited until Jax had nodded, took another glance around at the trees lining the wooden fence on either side of the property, and then bunched his legs. Turning, he ducked into the room and went low.
Jax moved in sync, his gun high.
Sunlight filtered through a series of windows from the back, revealing a stunning 1969 Boss 429 Mustang.
Jax whistled.
Raze nodded, his gaze on the shiny chrome as he straightened. “What a beauty,” he whispered.
“Man, I wish we could take her.” Regret crossed Jax’s face, so real and heartfelt, it almost made Raze laugh out loud.
“Me too,” he whispered back. New red and chrome lockers and tool storage units lined both walls, while the floor was sealed concrete, clean and nearly sparkling. “I’m thinking if there was a work truck, it’s long gone.”
Jax nodded and began filtering through the lockers, every once in a while glancing with longing at the Mustang.
After twenty minutes of searching, all they found were a couple of hammers, a can of nails, and a box of girlie magazines. Jax loaded them up and headed outside.
Raze cut him a look.
“What? We have teenagers, you know. Every teenager should have a skin magazine.” Jax’s stride didn’t waver as he continued out to the truck.
Raze shook his head. What a bust. “This was a waste of time,” he muttered, carefully closing the door behind them. Maybe someday he could return for the car.
Jax nodded and dumped the loot in the back of the crappy truck. “Yep. We have five more businesses like this to hit. The shop was so clean, let’s skip the house. They took everything of value.”
Raze nodded and slid back into the passenger seat. Unfortunately, the best loot was found at homes with dead bodies. He was so damn tired of dead bodies.
They worked methodically through the list of home-based construction companies, finding many more tools, some pot, more magazines, cigarettes, and even a generator before reaching Plympton’s Hard Tools on the far side of Compton.
While they didn’t speak much, they moved in sync, both having been trained well. Jax had been Delta Force, while Raze had been SEAL Team Six. Something else they didn’t discuss.
Plympton’s was comprised of two metal shops behind a double-wide trailer not nearly as nice as the other buildings. A work truck had been abandoned near the trailer and gave up tools, electrical wire, and cocaine.
Raze lifted his eyebrows. “Do we want the coke?”
“Yep. Take all drugs.” Jax squinted toward the first shop. “We can’t be picky when it comes to pain management and bullet wounds.”
True. “If I get shot, don’t even think of using coke,” Raze said, gathering the bundle to slide it beneath an old tire in the back of the truck.
“Copy that.”
They walked side by side toward the first shop, more than used to entering new buildings together. Before Raze could open the door, Jax moved, smoothly slicing a handcuff over his wrist.
What the hell? Raze kicked out, nailing the Vanguard leader in the leg.
Jax grunted, jumped forward, and secured the other cuff to the side of the metal door. Then he backed up, weapon out.
Raze went still. He’d gotten caught up in the day and had forgotten to watch his back. How the hell had he gotten so damn complacent? “What the fuck?”
“You don’t sound surprised,” Jax said, his aim steady.
“I’m not.” If he went for the knife in his boot, Jax would shoot to kill. Raze’s gun was at his waist, and he was fast, but Jax was probably fast, too. “You going to leave me here?” His heartbeat sped up, and he tried to control his breathing.
Jax slowly shook his head.
Ah, hell. Jax would go for the sure result. “You’re just going to shoot me and go,” Raze said evenly.
“That’s the plan.”
Raze kept his gaze level. If he could talk Jax into just leaving him cuffed, he could eventually get free. If Jax shot him in the head, then nobody would be able to help Maureen. He had to live. “I helped you save Lynne from Atherton. Why are you doing this?”
“Let’s not play games.” A muscle ticked at Jax’s jaw. “Give me some credit. You had to expect this.”
“No.” Sure, he’d expected it, but he’d gotten careless in the hunt for explosives. Jax and his crew had drawn Raze right in, and sweet Vinnie was the cream on top. “I didn’t think you had it in you. To kill a guy you’d fought next to.”
Jax snarled. “Reminding me of lost comrades is a shitty thing to do.”
“Shooting me in the head is worse,” Raze countered dryly.
“Tell me the full truth, and I won’t shoot you. Why did you walk into Vanguard territory and offer to help? More importantly, how did you come by the intel about President Atherton that helped us rescue Lynne and Vinnie last week? You knew way too much about him and his troops.” Jax’s aim didn’t waiver a millimeter.
“I’ve been traveling and gaining intel,” Raze said, giving part of the truth. “I’m not going to harm you or yours, Jax.” Except Vinnie. He was going to betray her, and that would hurt.
A ruckus started up behind the other shop.
Raze reached for his weapon, able only to turn a little, while Jax slid to his right.
Instantly, four men ran around the far side. The lead two held guns, the next two knives and leashes. Jax settled his stance, switching his aim to the men.
The long leashes were attached to women running on all fours, who careened around the building, snarling.
“What the fuck?” Jax muttered.
The lead guy, a man in a pale green suit, smiled. “You’re trespassing.” Without blinking, he fired.
Chapter Eight
We find our friends by chance in the oddest of places, and only we can decide to keep them in our hearts.
—Dr. Frank X. Harmony, Philosophies
Vinnie tried to roll up the sleeves of her borrowed sweater, leaving clumps at her wrists. Maybe the scavengers could look for some petite clothing on their next run. At least the yoga pants only went to her ankles and not beyond. Of course they were supposed to end right below the knee.
She hurried across the soup kitchen in the direction in which Lynne had disappeared and crossed into what looked like a former medical office. Long reception desk, waiting room with old magazines, and dark carpet. “Lynne?”
“Back here,” came the call.
Vinnie nodded and inched around the desk, heading down a hallway. A door to her left held a couple of hospital beds and, farther down, an opening led to a kitchenette. Well, what used to be a kitchenette. Now a couple of old microscopes sat on a table surrounded by reams of paper and articles.
Lynne glanced up from a microscope, her eyes focusing. “How a
re the new digs?”
“Fine.” Vinnie moved inside to take a plastic orange seat.
“Good. You know, when I first got here, Jax and I shared an apartment.” Lynne rubbed her pointy chin. “Not that I wanted to.”
Vinnie sat back. “He, ah, forced you?” She’d been told that women didn’t barter for sex and were never forced in Vanguard, unlike much of the remaining world.
“Kind off.” Lynne shoved curly brown hair off her forehead. “I mean, he gave me the couch if I wanted it, but we had to share the room for safety reasons.” She blushed a deep pink. “Then I decided to stay and share for other reasons.”
Right. Vinnie scrutinized her. Love shone in her eyes. Of course in drastic times, being tied to a guy like Jax Mercury also meant safety. “You make a nice couple.”
Lynne rolled her eyes. “We make an explosive couple, but I like us.”
A former head of a CDC unit and a special ops solider? Yeah. That probably did lead to an explosion or two. “Does your blue heart hurt?” Vinnie gasped and covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry. Since the drugs, sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain and I just can’t control it, I really didn’t mean—”
Lynne held up a hand and grinned. “Take a breath.” She glanced down at the glowing blue through a pink T-shirt. “The blue doesn’t hurt, although sometimes it feels, well, weird.”
Vinnie leaned forward, her gaze fastened on the glow. “Weird how?”
Lynne lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Just like my chest feels heavy or constricted.”
“That could be anxiety.” Or heartburn. Or any number of things.
“I know, but I can’t help wondering.”
“Why is it blue?” Vinnie asked. “I’ve never understood that fact.”
Lynne shook her head. “When we first started experimenting with vitamin B to cure Scorpius, I was injected with an experimental concoction, turning my heart blue. We were never able to duplicate the exact formula again, although since it didn’t cure me, I’m not sure it matters.”
“Why blue though?”
She sighed. “I have both photosphores and chromatophores in my heart, which without the initial bacterial infection would be impossible. Squids and octopi have the same materials, essentially, and they can turn different colors—usually blue.”
Vinnie nodded. “I see. Both squid and octopuses are high in vitamin B.”
“Yes. I’m hoping that the government, while it still existed, stored squid somewhere . . . maybe in this Bunker we’re all looking for.” Lynne rolled her neck. “So, enough about me. I’m weird, right?”
“So am I. My brain is different,” Vinnie whispered. Damn it. There went her mouth again. “Since having Scorpius and all the mind-control drugs. I can sense odd things, and I hear voices sometimes.”
Lynne’s gaze sharpened. “That’s interesting.”
Vinnie chuckled. “That’s the scientist in you talking.”
“Sure. I mean, you can relate. You were kind of a scientist, right?”
Vinnie bit back a full-on laugh. “Said just like a medical and research doctor to a psychologist.”
Lynne winced. “I’m sorry. I do think psychology is a science. I mean, kind of.” She buried her face in her hands. “I’m an ass.”
“No, you’re not.” Hell, many scientists didn’t consider psychology to be a science, and that was fine with Vinnie. “Without understanding humans and behavior, what’s the point of the rest of science?”
Lynne slowly lifted her head. “Sure. Let’s go with that.”
Vinnie eyed the row of worn-looking microscopes. “We can tell who’s been infected and who hasn’t, right?”
Lynne nodded. “Yeah. With a simple blood test, even just a couple of drops, I can see the infection.” She breathed out. “We’ve thought about requiring Vanguard citizens to take the test so we know who the survivors are, but that seems like such a breach of privacy, you know?”
“Yeah.”
Tace loped into the room, his black hat still in place.
“How often are you going to wear that?” Lynne asked.
The Texan shrugged, his big body filling the doorway. “Makes me think of home.”
Vinnie nodded, noting he didn’t say feel like home. But think. “I was hoping maybe we could find time to chat.”
A slow smile lifted his full lips. “Aw, shucks, ma’am. You hitting on me?”
She blinked, her breath catching. “No. Not at all. I want to dig into your brain.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. What the hell?
“I figured,” Tace murmured. “Didn’t mean to tease you, darlin’.”
She straightened up and focused. “The amusement and the flirting. Is it real? I mean, do you feel it?”
His smile slid away. “No. Not really. I remember feeling it, and I know what to say and when to say it, but I don’t actually feel it. Not anymore.”
Lynne stood and ran a hand down his arm. “You will. Keep in mind, you only contracted the fever a couple of weeks ago and you haven’t had time to heal. The B is in your system now and we’ll shore it up. Trust me.”
He nodded and patted her hand. “I do trust you.” The wink he aimed at Vinnie was slow and surprisingly sexy. “For now, why don’t you dig into my brain, Doc?” He glanced at Lynne. “I’m surrounded by doctors. Well, kind of.”
Vinnie bit back a chuckle as Lynne frowned. Apparently medics didn’t really consider scientists to be doctors. “Aren’t we chock full of preconceived notions?” she murmured, fairly certain that all science really stemmed from psychology. All discovery originated in the human brain or, at the very least, the observations of the human mind. “Are you a medical doctor, Tace?” she asked.
“No, ma’am.” He pushed his hat farther back on his head. “I was a medic in the army, so I’m trained in combat. We have three real doctors inner territory, but none of them had much combat training. Now they have plenty.”
Vinnie nodded and pushed out another orange chair. “Too bad we don’t have a couch.” She smiled.
He wiggled his eyebrows. “I could find a couch if you’d rather snuggle with me.”
Lynne sighed and smacked his arm. “Knock it off.” She retook her seat. “Why did Bret Atherton think you were psychic, Vivienne?”
Vinnie’s shoulders went back and her breath caught in her throat. She turned her gaze on Lynne, reminded again of just how smart Dr. Lynne Harmony was. “Bret had access to my FBI files, and I had successfully solved a string of serial killer cases.”
“And?” Tace said, dropping into a seat.
She took a deep breath. “I was good at my job.” She’d always been able to read people and get into their minds, but there was nothing otherworldly about it. “After Scorpius spread, the government, such as it was, needed a couple of Rippers chased down, and they came to my unit for help.” Whispers tickled across her brain, sounds and feelings, more voices. Was she partially schizophrenic?
“You found the Rippers?” Lynne asked.
“Yes.” Vinnie took a haphazard stack of papers and patted them into a neat pile. “I used my knowledge of human and sociopathic behavior to calculate where they’d go. One of them was a guy named Spiral.”
Lynne sat back. “He brought down the Internet.”
Vinnie sighed. “Well, he created a computer virus that did so, but he didn’t work alone. Eventually, the Brigade caught him, and he died in a firefight.”
Lynne gasped and grabbed Vinnie’s wrist. “You saw the Brigade? Did you meet Deacan McDougall?”
Vinnie tried not to wince from the firm hold. “Yes. Four months ago I worked with McDougall to bring down Spiral.” McDougall was the leader of the Brigade, the USA’s front line of defense against Scorpius, and was one seriously badass guy with a Scottish accent. “Knowing McDougall, he’s still in charge of the Brigade, but I’m not sure they answer to the president or his elite force.”
“I’d heard they’d gone rogue,” Tace murmured.
Lynne’s ey
es widened and she removed her hand. “Sorry.” She winced at the red marks on Vinnie’s skin. “Was Nora Medina—I mean McDougall—with Deke?” She visibly held her breath.
“Yes. Dr. McDougall was with Deacon, and as they gathered information on the infection, from data to possible cures from around the globe, she worked on putting it all together.” Vinnie clasped her hands in her lap, out of reach.
Tears filled Lynne’s eyes. “So Nora and Deke were alive—at least four months ago. I knew it.”
Vinnie nodded, her heart softening. “I take it you’re friends?” She kept the tense in the present because if anybody could survive out there, it’d be McDougall.
“Yes. Nora is my best friend, has been for years.” Lynne smiled, her lips trembling. “I actually used emotional blackmail to get her to remarry Deke when I was first infected with Scorpius and turned all blue.”
Vinnie’s eyebrows lifted. “Well, if it helps, they seemed very happy.” As happy as two people could be when most of the world was dying or chasing them.
“Good.” Lynne sniffed. “I, ah, am going to use the restroom. I’ll be back.” She stood to leave and tripped over Tace’s boot.
He caught her with one hand before she could hit the floor and then waited until she’d straightened before releasing her. She sighed and continued walking, bumping into the doorframe as she exited.
Vinnie watched her leave, bemused.
“She’s a total klutz,” Tace confirmed. “All right. My brain? I don’t feel anything, even much pain, and I’m not nearly enough bothered by that fact. Am I a sociopath?”
Vinnie reached for another stack of papers to settle into some semblance of order. “I doubt it. Sounds like a normal reaction to the Scorpius bacterium, especially if you haven’t had time to heal yet. Do you get urges to kill anybody?”
“No. But I’m fine if I have to do it.” He shrugged. “Before being infected, it would’ve bothered me a lot. Now?” His hand rested on the table, and his fingers began to tap. “I shot a guy the other day without thinking twice about it, and I also seem to be obsessing about things.” His shoulders hunched, and his hand inched toward the papers.
Shadow Falling (The Scorpius Syndrome #2) Page 7
