She watched it, her mouth open. She couldn’t do this. It was impossible. She thought of Mr. MacDonald and his earnest speech and knew she wasn’t one of those heroes Fortune smiled upon. She never had been. But she had the evidence in her pocket to bring down Feno. She remembered Bing and his threats and the feeling of being tied to a bed in a very white room, and she ran.
The drone moved slowly and Ellie caught up to it before it even cleared the first gate. She dropped the crowbar and trotted alongside the machine, trying to figure out how she could hide herself on the simple metal machine. Since it was unmanned, there was no seat, no cab in which to hide. There was only the axle with two heavy tires around a long spraying pipe attached to a heavy steel drum. The entire mechanism was shielded in metal plates with half a dozen valve openings scattered across the surface. She heard the sound of the outer gate opening, and for the first time in almost seven years, Ellie was within touching distance of earth that was not contained within Flowertown.
She knew she would be spotted running alongside the drone, and so she jumped up against the side of the machine, bracing herself over the drum cover, until she could find hand- and footholds in the open valves from which to hang. She pressed her face to the cool metal, her bloodied fingers fighting for purchase on the oily valves, her toes trembling in their precarious position, and she felt sweat slip between her and the metal as the drone slipped through the final gate.
Behind her, a radio crackled. “Drone seven clear, gate clear.”
She almost relaxed until a loud siren blared and lights flooded the fence line as far as she could see. Ellie nearly lost her grip as she craned her head around to look. A worker in a jumpsuit ran toward the drone gate, waving his arms, and then crumpled. Ellie gasped, not understanding what had happened until she saw a dark-haired man step into the light. Torrez held her crowbar. He nodded at her and pulled the gate closed.
The lights that lined the barrier road shone over her head, the drone keeping her in shadows as it began its route along the highway. Ellie heard a whirring sound within the metal casing and nearly fell off as the pesticide/herbicide mixture sprayed out inches in front of her face. Fumes from the noxious chemicals burned her eyes, and her lungs ached to take a breath. She turned her head away and could see, just over the heavy drum behind her, the east gate of Flowertown come to life with activity. Sirens flashed and searchlights flooded the gate area. Ellie nearly lost her grip once more as she lifted herself high enough to see the road beside her.
Two black Feno trucks raced along the barrier road. Tears streamed from her eyes from the chemical fumes, obscuring her view, but she could make out muzzle flashes. Over the heavy rumble of the drone, she could hear the scrape of metal on metal as the two trucks clashed. She knew one truck was Bing’s; she prayed the other was Guy’s. The drone rolled along the dead earth of the barrier zone parallel to the road, well ahead of the trucks. The chemicals burned the open wounds on her face, and she pressed her cheek against the metal. Guy would make it. He would stop Bing.
The drone slowed and she heard gears shifting. Pulling her face back, she cried out as she saw the road to her left getting farther away. The drone was turning. It was running its circuit. It was heading back to the barrier gate. She trusted Guy and knew his team would make it, but the plastic case of the external hard drive still dug into her hip. She had the evidence. She had everything she needed to bring Feno down. Ellie knew she could not go back to Flowertown.
Pushing off with her knees, Ellie dropped and rolled away from the tamping drone. It finished its slow turn and with relentless precision began its course back to the gate. Ellie stood alone, exposed, on the gray ash of the barrier zone. On the highway less than twenty yards to her left, sparks flew as the trucks collided side by side, and ahead, spotlights exploded. Straight ahead Ellie could see TV trucks with high, mounted halogen lights and a wall of brightly colored media vans, police cars, and army trucks. There were no fences on this side of the barrier. And she knew that if she could see them, they could see her. She began to run to them.
The barren soil of the barrier crumbled under her pounding feet, and Ellie felt her muscles burning with the effort. Tears streamed from her eyes, her vision blurry from the chemical burns, and she tasted blood in her mouth as she worked to push her lungs. She was less than half a mile from the end of the barrier zone, the outside world, when she heard the gunshots. Daring a look to the left, she saw one of the Feno trucks skidding as its tires exploded. The other truck tore down the highway, racing toward the crowd.
She could see faces now and knew they could see her. People pointed and lights were turned on her, nearly blinding her, and still she ran. She pounded across the soft dirt, not thinking, not feeling, just running, one word screaming from her lips.
“Clean! Clean!”
From the corner of her eye, she saw the truck pass her and saw a figure in black watching her too. Not just watching—pointing a gun at her.
When the bullet punched through her shoulder, Ellie Cauley experienced many things in a matter of seconds. She felt herself lifted off the ground and knew an odd coldness in her shoulder. As she spun, her feet flying out before her, she saw the truck racing out of her line of sight and, behind it, a figure running hard down the road. She heard another shot and saw the figure fall as she herself crashed into the soft, dead earth of the barrier. She heard a loud thud as her skull collided with the ground, and before she lost consciousness, she saw a blaze of light as buildings in the distance exploded. Then everything was darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Ellie felt herself coming up from a deep hole. The first thought she had was that she was impossibly thirsty. She tried to pull open her eyelids, but they weighed a hundred pounds and seemed to be glued shut. She heard her breath whistling through her nose and felt something lying on her face.
With a superhuman effort, Ellie forced her lids apart and stared at the whiteness before her. She blinked, her focus blurry, and ran her dry tongue over her rough lips. It hurt to swallow. Taking a deep breath, she tried to move. Her left shoulder ached with a dull, drumming pain, and she couldn’t turn her head in that direction. She tried to pull her right hand up but felt something pull at her wrist. The sound of metal rattling at the effort brought Ellie out of her sleep with a panicked rush. She tried to sit up and failed against the restraints. Above her head, an IV bag dripped clear liquids down a tube. As the room came into focus she saw a television mounted on the wall on the other side of the room. A cartoon pig danced to a silent song. Ellie fell back against the pillow.
She could smell flowers.
The room was white. The white room. White, white, white.
The door opened and a middle-aged woman in scrubs came to her bedside to check the IV bag. She smiled at Ellie. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”
A scream ripped out of Ellie’s throat as she arched her back, tears flooding her eyes. The nurse put her hands on her shoulders, forcing her back into the bed as Ellie’s screams became a chant: “Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!”
She burst into hard, jagged sobs as an armed soldier burst through the door. The nurse struggled to hold her still, and Ellie heard voices at the door. She didn’t care. Let them shoot her. She screamed and kicked, the thin hospital blankets flying to the floor around her. Another woman ran into the room, syringe in hand, and injected it into the IV port. Immediately Ellie felt warmth in her muscles and fell back against the bed.
The nurse holding her relaxed her grip. “Are you in pain?”
“Fuck you.”
The woman took a deep breath and tried again. “Are you in pain?”
“Fuck you!”
“Okay.” She stepped back. “I think you’ll live.”
The door opened once more and Ellie heard a man’s voice. “Oh, she’ll live. She’s too mean to die from just a bullet.” The nurses stepped away from the bed and Guy swung into view, balancing on crutches. Ellie stopped screaming, her breath frozen
in her throat. Guy leaned against the foot of her bed.
“We’ve given her a sedative.”
Guy smiled. “That’s probably a good idea.”
“Tell me about it.” The nurse shot Ellie a look as she followed the other woman out of the room. Guy waited until the door closed before hopping up toward the right side of the bed. Ellie could hear herself panting as panic and confusion flooded over her.
“Guy?” He brushed the hair off her forehead. “Untie me.”
“Untie you?”
She pulled at the restraint on her right wrist and heard the metal rattle again. Guy frowned and looked closer at her arm.
“You’re just twisted in the sheets.” He unwrapped a thick length of hospital linen tangled around her wrist where it stuck out between the bars of the bed guard. “Unclench your fist.” He put his hand on hers and gently unfolded her fingers. “Do you know where you are?”
Ellie began to cry. “In the care center.”
“No. This is the Walter Reed Medical Center.” His voice was soft. “In Maryland.”
Ellie couldn’t let herself believe it. “Then how come I smell flowers?”
Guy pointed to the other side of the bed. Ellie had to strain to turn her head that far. On the nightstand sat a vase with an enormous flower arrangement, including a dozen stargazer lilies. “Sorry about that. They’re from your family. They insisted.”
Ellie squeezed her eyes shut. “My family?”
She felt him kiss her fingertips. “They’ve been here for two days waiting for you to wake up. You lost a lot of blood. You were in isolation until the chemical burns started to heal.” He ran his fingers lightly over the gauze on her cheeks. “Do you want me to call them in?”
Ellie shook her head, knocking loose tears that dampened the bandages. “Not yet. I just…I need…The drive! Did the hard drive get out?”
Guy nodded. “They found it a few feet away from you. The FBI has it and none of the data was corrupted. They found the red pills. Did you know you had a tooth in your pocket? I can only imagine how that got there.” He squeezed her hand. “You’re under full protection until you’re able to testify to the grand jury.”
“You were shot.”
“Yeah, I guess I wasn’t as good as I thought I was. It turns out Fat Ass Fletcher was the only one who won the footrace to the gate. How’s that for irony?”
Ellie stared out at the patch of blue sky she could see through the blinds. It was her first non-Iowa view in almost seven years. The enormity of that overwhelmed her, and she looked away.
“Why isn’t it on the news?”
Guy looked up at the dancing pig on the television. “Do you know how hard they had to look to find a channel that wasn’t covering it? The doctors didn’t want you waking up and seeing it on the news.” He smirked. “They thought it might upset you.”
“I hate doctors.”
“So do I.” Guy reached across her bed to the far nightstand for the remote, pushing his body close, too close, the way he always did. The way she loved it. She tipped her head forward until her cheek brushed the warm muscle of his shoulder. He shifted, not breaking contact with her body, moving his face until his breath was hot on her ear. “Want sound?”
Ellie shook her head, pressing her face into the warmth of his neck. She kissed the soft spot beneath his jaw, feeling his pulse on her lips. Behind him, she could see the television filled with images of burning buildings and smoke-filled skies. She closed her eyes as the medication in the IV began to settle over her.
“Rachel?”
Guy pulled his head up, careful not to disturb the gauze on her cheek, and pressed his forehead to hers. “They said she wouldn’t leave the building until everybody got out. She wouldn’t leave the old women on the second floor. She didn’t make it out of the Public Building.”
“Stupid farm girl.” Ellie’s voice cracked. Before she could speak again, Guy placed his lips against hers. It wasn’t a kiss. It was contact, breath, and she let herself drift on the sensation.
“Ellie,” Guy whispered against her lips. “When I saw you…when you were shot…” He leaned back to look at her, his hand stroking her hair. The muscles in his jaw worked to say the words. “I thought…”
Her hand felt heavy as she lifted it to his cheek. She shook her head, not making him say the rest. Her thumb caught a tear in the corner of his eye and she smiled.
“Tough guy.”
He laughed and kissed her palm. “Stoner.”
“I’ll say.” She sank back into the pillow.
“I told them to give you the good stuff,” Guy said, straightening out her sheet and tucking her into the bed. “I told them you had a high tolerance.”
She felt her eyelids sliding down but wasn’t ready to let Guy leave. Her hand found his and he wrapped her fingers in his own. “What’s going to happen now?”
“Now you’re going to sleep.”
“No.” She could hear the thickness in her own voice. “I mean, what happens with Bing and Feno? What’s going to happen?”
“Sleep, Ellie.”
Something in his tone made her struggle to open her eyes, and she grabbed his hand before he could pull it away. “What? What are you not telling me?”
“Ellie, you need to sleep.”
“I need to know what happened. What’s going to happen.”
Guy stared down at her hand squeezing his. The tension had returned to his face, and she could see him struggle for words. “They didn’t get him, Ellie.”
She felt the breath rush from her lungs as if she’d been punched.
“In the confusion, in all the explosions and the chaos, he, um…” Guy wouldn’t meet her eyes. “His whereabouts have not been confirmed. Several Feno guards have testified that he never made it out of the barrier zone.”
“You know that’s not true.”
His hand clenched into a fist in her grip. “It’s complicated, Ellie. My orders. The people involved. This investigation is…complicated.”
“Complicated?” Shock and pain medication were winning and she fell back against the pillow. “What’s complicated about it? He’s out there.”
Guy finally looked her in the eye, his voice low and raw. “I know. And I’m going to find him. I don’t care what my orders are. I’m going to find him and I’m going to make him pay.”
She couldn’t speak; her lips were numb. There was nothing to say anyway. She could only stare, struggling to stay awake, fighting to keep her eyes on Guy. She wanted to burn the image of his face on her brain, but as her body drifted into the pit of sleep, she knew the nightmare that waited for her, the birdlike face in the darkness. But she wasn’t afraid. Not anymore. If Guy promised to get him, he would.
Unless she got him first.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
There is no way I can close this book without expressing my deepest gratitude, appreciation, and love to the many people who helped bring this story to life: to my friend, agent, and whip-cracker Christine Witthohn for never giving up; to Terry Goodman and the Amazon team for taking a chance; to my development editor David Downing, whose skills are nothing short of magical; to Judy Jennings and my radio family who helped me make that scary leap; to Mary, Monica, and Matthew and all my family who keep on loving me no matter how weird I get; special thanks to my best friend Gina Milum and all the Book Thugs—Christy Smith, Debra Burge, Tenna Rusk, Debra McDanald, Angela Jackson, Alisha Jackson, Alecia Cole, and Tina Dayhaw—the smartest, toughest readers I know; and finally to Gordon Ramey for too many reasons to count.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photograph by Jessica Marie St. James
A fifteen-year veteran of morning radio and an avid traveler, S. G. Redling currently lives in her beloved West Virginia.
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