by Lizzy Ford
Chapter Twelve
BRADY’S WORLD WAS ONE of cold and darkness. He was wet, that much he could determine. The ground beneath was rocky. He thought he heard voices from somewhere. They faded as he fell into his unconsciousness. He felt nothing as he floated in the dark of his mind, until sudden, hot pain tore through him.
His body bucked, and his eyes flew open. Lights blinded him and there were several blurry faces hanging over his. The world grew loud, with voices jumbling with the sound of equipment and possibly the thump of a helicopter. He couldn’t focus and strained against whatever held him in place. He made out one familiar voice.
“Be still, Brady. You’re okay!” Dan shouted.
Brady relaxed, unable to clear his head or move his body. He fell back into the dark quiet of his mind. When he awoke again, it was to the feeling of a warm breeze across his face. He didn’t recognize the hospital room. Its colors were pale purple and the bed beneath him more comfortable than any he’d lain in.
It had to be a fed hospital. Army-types and rebels would never have access to such a place. The appearance of a nurse in a fed’s uniform in his doorway confirmed his assumption.
“How are you feeling?” she asked as he stretched and sat up.
“A little rough,” he admitted. His voice was gravelly from lack of use, and his arms and legs felt heavy as he tested them. “Where am I?”
“Billings Federal Medical Facility. Stay in bed. You were a mess when they brought you in.”
“Billings?” Brady asked. “As in … I’m in Montana?”
“Good. We were worried you’d have some brain damage,” the woman replied cheerfully. “You remember your name?”
“Brady.”
“Rank.”
“Major.”
“Where did your accident happen?”
“I wouldn’t call falling out of the sky an accident,” he grunted. “We were shot down somewhere in Tennessee.” His mind began to clear. “Where is she?”
“Where is who?”
“Lana. She was with me in the helo.”
“You were the only survivor.”
Her words fell as hard as he had from the sky. The nurse smiled again and studied the micro in her hand, which monitored his vitals. Brady sat in silence for a long moment, thinking hard. He recalled the horror of falling from the sky and getting caught in the bridge. The terror on Lana’s face was fresh in his thoughts, and he heard her scream again as he was flung from the helo, before it hit the water.
“Did they pull the helo out of the river?” he asked. “Did they verify I was the only survivor?”
“You can ask in a little bit, after you eat.”
“No. Now.”
The nurse raised an eyebrow but didn’t jump at his sharp tone. He could guess her thoughts without hearing them: she was silently clucking at the army-type who thought he could boss around a fed.
“I’ll bring you something to eat,” she said instead and walked out.
Brady struggled to move his body. He was weaker than he remembered feeling in a long, long time. He shoved the sheets off and looked over his body. His right arm was bandaged with a fracture-snap, his left ankle as well. He touched his face and felt the scars running along the left side of his face, neck, and head. He was shaved bald. Irritated, he sat back on the bed. Even his DNA-enhanced body would need time to heal, just not as much time as a normal person.
But he had to know if they found her body. His heart leapt then sank as Lana’s scream echoed in his thoughts again.
“Hey, champ.” Tim’s voice was a pleasant distraction. The politician managed to make even his casual wear appear distinguished as he stood in the doorway with sparkling blue eyes.
“How did I get here?” Brady asked.
“Dan called me. I sent in twenty helos and only one made it back.”
“Lana?”
Tim’s smile faded. He shook his head. Brady released his breath.
“Dan stayed behind where your helo went down to search. You were in critical condition. The docs put you in a coma for over a week in order to transplant half your organs. You’ll be on your feet in no time.”
“I hate organ transplants.”
“You’ve got the innards of an eighteen-year-old. I plan on having the same transplant in about ten years.”
“So she’s gone.” He felt worse than he expected. “I failed you.”
“You kept her alive for quite a while,” Tim said. “I’ll always be grateful to you.”
“They didn’t find the Horsemen or her micro either?”
“Nothing.”
Brady’s gaze went to the window. There was no body, no micro, and no Horsemen. He couldn’t imagine all would still be missing, unless she was alive somewhere. Hope trickled through him. She had to be alive.
“It might take me awhile to get used to the bald Brady,” Tim said. “I’ve got work for you here, but I think—”
“I want to go back.”
“—I think you want to go back.” Tim chuckled. “You think she’s alive, like I do.”
“I think where she is, so is her micro and the Horsemen.”
“I thought it odd none were found, but they didn’t find the pilot or anyone else from the crash either. Dan searched the whole area, for ten kilometers out in every direction he could. Lana doesn’t have the … skills for survival.”
“The one thing you didn’t teach her,” Brady pointed out.
“If I’d known the world was getting ready to end, I might’ve taught her that, too,” Tim replied smoothly. “What I can say is that she learns fast. She knew where we wanted her to go, and—assuming she’s alive—she has access to every facility on the route.”
“If she’s not dead in a ditch somewhere. She has no sense for first aid, either.”
“True. But …”
Brady knew what the ambitious man wanted. Tim’s concern was as much for Lana as it was her precious cargo. Tim cared for Lana—that much Brady could see—but Tim cared as much for his career and getting what he wanted. Brady was a different kind of man. Even if he didn’t put the same price tag on something material, he didn’t begrudge Tim for being the way he was. Without Tim, none of them would’ve survived in the first place.
“When does this come off?” Brady asked, indicating the two fracture-snaps.
“Tomorrow,” the nurse said as she reappeared with a small tray of food. Brady’s stomach roared at the scent of real food. “You can leave in another week.”
“He leaves tomorrow,” Tim said before Brady could speak.
“Very well, sir.”
“I’ll need a team. Five men, from our unique pool of soldiers,” Brady said, exchanging a look of understanding with the Undersecretary. “We’ll have to risk flying past the river if we want to find her.”
“They’ll be here in the morning with enough supplies and ammo to take out Texas,” Tim said.
“And I need a micro with all emerops facilities between Tennessee and Colorado marked.”
“You’ll have one in an hour.”
“Sir, I need you to approve his release at the desk,” the nurse said. “And you, Major Brady, need to eat all you can if you plan on walking out of here in the morning.”
Brady grunted in response and dug into the steak on the plate before him. He’d wolfed half of it down by the time the two left him alone in the room. He was weak; he could feel it. He’d have to catalyze his healing with adrenaline and other drugs.
While he trusted Dan, he couldn’t help feeling that Lana was more capable of fending for herself than they gave her credit for, if only because she knew how important it was to keep the Horsemen safe. She’d been learning how to defend herself and watching how his people operated for a few days before the accident. Someone as bright as she was would figure out a way to get somewhere safe.
At least, he hoped she would. Brady ate until he was too stuffed to eat more, his mind racing.
Precisely at six the next morning, he
strode through the medical facility’s maximum security barriers. His body didn’t feel right, but he had enough drugs with him to get him through a couple of weeks, when his body would be fully healed. He emerged from the thick steel walls into the sunlight. A smile spread across his face.
Tim stood in his black fed uniform, comfortable with the soldiers eyeing him. Dan and Elise were there with three others. Brady had no doubt Dan had chosen the team; the cheerful man was nonetheless shrewd when he needed to be.
“Before you leave,” Tim said, stepping between Brady and his team, “I’ve briefed your team already. The decision was made at levels higher than mine that we are sending in everything we have in three days. PMF are spreading the word to the populace to hole up in the underground railroad. We’ve gotta crush this before it wipes us all out.”
“We’ll be back by then,” Brady said.
“You must be. This isn’t something I can influence.”
“You can influence anything, Tim, so I assume this is your idea and your window.”
Tim’s smile was faint. “The politics are changing slowly. Seems someone ordered hits on a few key politicians in the way. I can influence everything on this side of the Mississippi.”
Brady didn’t ask. He didn’t want to know what Tim did behind the scenes. Tim moved closer and lowered his voice.
“What your grandfather planned with mine so long ago is about to happen. If we don’t act, the country will be split by civil war. The era of fractured power and corruption is about to end. It may not happen peacefully.”
“You always have my support,” Brady said. “Just let me do what I do best.”
“I’m counting on it. Do you have anyone you’d rather I not purge?”
“All of my men.”
“Very well. Good luck. Bring back the Horsemen. And, be careful. I need more than your brawn, Brady.”
Brady nodded and stepped around Tim. Their world was about to get messier. Tim had been prepared for this day by two generations of ambitious men who intended to see someone of their bloodline in the seat of power. Brady didn’t care for power, which was why he’d always gotten along with Tim. Even so, he knew Tim was as vulnerable as any man to the siren song of absolute power. His grandfather had an almost subservient relationship to Tim’s, but Brady had left the shadows on many occasions to remind Tim of what really mattered when the politician’s ego started to get the best of him.
“Dan,” Brady greeted his friend warmly and shook his hand.
“Lookin’ alive. I wouldn’t say good,” Dan replied. “I brought Elise.”
“I see,” Brady said, looking over Lana’s blond friend. Even Elise’s usual disdain for the regular military was welcome. Her critical gaze swept over him with a frown. “Let’s go.”
“We thought we’d start at Lana’s house,” Elise said as they all walked towards the awaiting helo. “She lived near the bridge. If she survived, she would’ve probably gone home.”
“We searched it from top to bottom,” Dan added. “Nothing. It was bombed out about a day after the helo went down. Still, that’s gotta be the starting point. She’ll have left some sort of clues behind.”
“She doesn’t have our training,” Brady said, pensive. “I calculated the nearest emerops from there. There are three within about a week’s walk.”
“Yeah, we know that now,” Dan said with a look at Elise. “The feds weren’t very forthcoming with that information. We could’ve tried to track her if we knew, but we didn’t until two days ago. Tim released the locations to everything east of the Mississippi. We’ve mapped about twenty possible routes to the three facilities. From there, it gets more confusing. Each facility is within three days’ walk of three more facilities with another twenty possible routes.”
“We have Elise. Elise knows her better than anyone,” Brady said with a glance at the blond woman. “So we go back to the beginning. We’ll figure out which route she took and track her.”
“Maybe she’ll beat us to Colorado.”
“Not on foot she won’t.”
“You’re underestimating her,” Elise warned.
“For her sake, I hope so,” Brady said.
“My friends,” Dan said in a softer tone, “I don’t like saying this, but be prepared for the worst. Chances are, she didn’t make it out alive.”
Brady and Elise exchanged a grim look. Neither spoke. Brady’s chest had tightened at Dan’s words, and he felt fear for the first time since he was a kid in basic training and had his first brush with his own mortality. The small team boarded the helo and lifted off. Brady focused on the micro, trying to figure out where Lana might’ve gone. At last, he set it down and gazed out at the terrain below. Dan was right. There was no real way to know which route she might’ve taken. He hoped there was some clue at her home.
