The bottoms of two bare feet came into view, high above and almost halfway out the window. He pointed the gun as the panic of what could happen if the atmosphere around him was tainted by the outside were outweighed by the possibility of saving whoever wanted out.
His duty to protect usually overrode everything else—even self-preservation.
Without wasting another second, he holstered his gun, lifted his arms above his head, and wrapped his fingers around the person’s ankle.
The person resisted, pushing forward and slipping from his grasp. Fox persisted, regaining control.
“Don’t go out there. You’ll die!” Maybe reason would help make this easier.
“No, I won’t. I will die if I stay in here.” The voice was husky, but definitely feminine.
“Get back inside, or I’ll force you back.” He gritted his teeth, holding on tighter. “You may have already compromised the oxygen inside this building.”
“No.”
Fighting back against the woman’s unbelievable strength, Fox managed to yank her ankle back. The sound of the rain was muffled as the window snapped shut when he pulled her body back inside.
“No!”
Fox cursed, stepped back, and the impact sent her crashing to the floor, with the wall of boxes tumbling on top.
Her head popped up between some of the boxes, so he held out his right hand to help, but she ignored it.
“Why did you do that?” The woman’s hair was plastered to her face, wet strands covering her eyes.
“I was trying to save your life.”
“I didn’t need to be saved,” she said, swiping a pale hand in front of her face and pushing some of the hair away.
Her striking, green eyes glared into his. For a second, he was sure she’d somehow paralyzed him, but it wasn’t her. It was his own actions that kept him steady. She was beautiful. No, it was more than that. This woman was striking in a way he’d never seen before.
He jiggled his hand, encouraging her to take it, but the action didn’t sway her.
“Please, I need you to get away from me.” Her eyes widened, almost crazed. Too much white stood out around her irises. Her pupils were large, and every detail of her face appeared so clear, even with the goggles over his eyes.
“Why?” His mind raced. “Have you been contaminated? I can get you to quarantine before it’s too late.”
She shook her head, and drops of water sprinkled on the boxes around her. “I don’t need you to take me anywhere.”
“Then, what’s the matter?” He hoped the water wasn’t from the rain outside. Or at least, he was hoping to fool himself into believing it wasn’t. The ramifications were too dire to focus on right now.
The woman didn’t answer. Instead, she used the boxes for leverage and stood up. She was completely naked—dark blotches splashed all over her body and face.
Fox couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. If he’d thought her face was gorgeous, her petite body was stunning. A shot of desire spiked inside him, but he blocked it instantly. He’d denied himself desire and attraction after his one and only love affair with a woman. Besides, this wasn’t why he was here. She might be beautiful and all alone, but she could very well be the one who’d killed his team.
“What happened to your clothes?” he asked, finally averting his eyes from her breasts to glare at the carnage on the ground. The view was certainly better when he looked at her.
“I don’t know.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you know?” Impatience wove its way into his system as he returned his gaze to hers, trying his damn hardest to keep from roving lower.
“I know my name is Iris.” She turned slightly, holding up her left arm for him to see. The glow of her tattoo was eerie and unique. He’d never been interested in body markings, though there was certainly a market for them. Yet, he’d never seen anything quite like the swirls and symbols on this one. They almost seemed to pop out of her body like the 3D illusions and holograms of trees situated randomly within Nexus. “I woke up inside this basement with all these…bodies.”
Her voice broke, and the urge to wrap his arms around her itched along his body. What was it about this woman that seemed so comfortable and familiar? Even with the strange tattoo and the obvious bloodstains, his instincts insisted she wasn’t a threat.
He swallowed, but there was no saliva left inside his mouth.
She’d supposedly woken up inside this basement surrounded by dead bodies and was dirty with their blood. What other conclusions were there?
His head throbbed. If she’d been splashed with it, she’d either been in here when the culprit attacked and butchered his team, or she was the one responsible for it. The first option seemed more likely.
“Do you know what happened to them?” he asked, holding his thoughts and position in check.
Iris shook her head. Unshed tears glistened inside her eyes. “I’ve got their blood all over my body.” The tears streamed down her face, streaking the dried blood. “I don’t know why.”
“We need to find you some clothes.” He started to shrug off his jacket when he realized he wasn’t wearing one. The standard navy blue one-piece Spec-Ops uniform was lined with pockets. He’d hidden things he didn’t want anyone to find, including the insignia patch he’d ripped off.
He stared at the woman. If she was just a victim, he didn’t want her to notice his uniform resembled that of the dead bodies. If she was responsible, he didn’t need her making the connection.
She nodded, staring down at the boxes.
He followed her gaze. “Looks like you found some.”
A small smile spread along her lips as she kneeled down and pulled several articles out. She looked so petite and pale, fragile. If she couldn’t remember anything, it seemed possible that she could be suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress.
Fox took several steps back. He left the mysterious woman named Iris to dress while he inspected the scene a little more closely.
Surely, there had to be some sort of clue…somewhere.
Chapter Three
The clothes were itchy against her sensitive skin. They smelled musty and old, as if they’d been stored inside these boxes for centuries. Maybe they had, but at least their harshness and generic odor made her think they probably hadn’t been used before. Now, they would serve their one and only purpose—to keep Iris fully covered. Being naked in front of the man donning a pair of goggles had made her feel vulnerable, because although he could see her, she couldn’t see him.
The dark pants she’d found fit perfectly and sat low on her hips. The top was also snug against her torso and ended just above the waistband of the pants. It was almost as if these clothes were designed for her or for someone of her exact size. What were the odds?
It was strange, but she chose not to dwell on it. What she did want to dwell on was the man who’d so carelessly yanked her away from freedom. She’d come so close and still mourned it in a way she hadn’t thought possible.
The feel of the cool raindrops still felt fresh on her dirty cheeks. They were mostly dry now, mingled with her tears and the blood she’d tried to wipe away. For those few minutes when she’d almost been outside, the earth had vibrated beneath her palms. Calling out in a way she’d never felt before. Or at least not in a way that she could remember. Her head still felt blurred with random images and things just beyond her grasp. Were they snippets of a life she’d once lived? Maybe.
Something had started changing inside her when her fingers touched the puddles on the street, but it had all slid back into the darkness when she’d been dragged back inside.
Now, she had to deal with this mysterious man.
“Did you find anything?” she called from the shelter of the fallen boxes that reached up to her waist.
He straightened, his broad shoulders facing her. The nameless man turned around, shook his head, and said, “Not really.”<
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“What happened to them?” Her lower lip trembled, so she gathered it beneath her teeth and nibbled. No point in letting him know just how scared and freaked out she was about this. Whatever kind of life she’d led before waking up in this dirty basement, she was sure it hadn’t included bodies being hacked to meaty bits around her. Even now, the stench emanating off their remains turned her stomach.
“They were…torn to pieces.”
She shivered. Iris scratched at the skin of her hands and wrists, wishing she wasn’t here and wearing these strange clothes. If not here, where did she belong? How had she gotten into this basement in the first place, and where was home?
“We need to get out of here.” His tone was different, urgent. It caught her by surprise.
Too many thoughts swirled inside her head. She desperately tried to hold onto some of them, anything before they all slipped past her like an endless slideshow. She mentally grabbed one, and a large tree flashed inside her mind. A tree bigger than anything she’d ever seen. She could remember craning her head back to stare at it in awe. Life vibrated from its thick trunk and many branches. Some sort of connection had buzzed between them. Where could this tree be? In the same place as the forest she’d dreamt of only minutes ago? No, she hadn’t dreamt about it. She’d seen it in her mind, as if there was such a place somewhere beyond the concrete city around her.
It slipped away too quickly, but not before she heard the faceless man’s voice again and saw his familiar, gray-colored pant legs. “Iris, can you hear me?”
“Iris!”
Her vision cleared, she sucked in a putrid breath, and stared at the man who was searching the basement suspiciously.
“Uh, where will we go?” Bile filled her mouth and left a bitter aftertaste. What she wouldn’t give for a drop of water. The thought of making another run for the window circled her mind. There’d be plenty of water out there.
“Anywhere but here,” he replied with a shake of his head. “Whoever did this could still be here somewhere, biding their time to finish what they started.”
He was right. She ignored the impulse of running to the window, even if it took every bit of willpower she possessed. Iris stepped over the first lot of boxes, finding unsteady footing in between. He held out a hand, but she ignored it and tripped with her next step. She lunged forward, unable to control her movements, until she fell into the circle of his arms. For a second, they tightened around her waist. His goggle-covered face peered down at her. They stood so close, she could see right through to his wide eyes, and she felt her cheeks warm.
Seconds—maybe minutes—ticked by before he helped her stand upright. In those wide eyes, she’d seen so many undecipherable things. One of them had definitely been suspicion. Maybe he didn’t believe everything she’d said and thought she was keeping something from him. She couldn’t blame him. For all she knew, maybe she was. Her memory wasn’t clear at the moment.
“Tell me. Where did you wake up?” He removed his hands from her waist, reluctantly.
When his warm hands abandoned her body, it left her feeling empty. She longed to recapture the intimate buzz of his touch.
“Iris, where did you wake up?”
She lifted a hand and pointed. “Over there.”
“So, the bodies were littered around you?” His gaze was pinned to where she still pointed. “Are you sure you didn’t see anything?”
His suspicion made her uncomfortable. “I didn’t kill them. There’s no way I could’ve done that without any weapons,” Iris blurted. “If that’s what you’re getting at.”
He kept his gaze on the dead. “I’ll have to get someone down here to clean up this mess.” The tense set of his shoulders made her wonder if he knew who these people were. Somehow, she suspected he did.
“Did you know them?”
A vein in his jaw jiggled. “No.”
She didn’t know why, but Iris knew he was lying. This man didn’t just know them…he’d been part of whatever group they’d belonged to. She would bet her life on it, even without a shred of evidence. His body language, standoffish stance, and accusatory questions spoke volumes.
Her eyes scanned the identical uniforms. They matched what was draped around him—a dark, one-piece outfit made from harsh fabric. The same holsters were strapped to the disconnected thighs, goggles over their eyes. It was obvious.
Why would he lie, and who were they? Would it be wise to listen to anything he said after this blatant lie? After all, if it hadn’t been for this mysterious man, Iris would be outside right now, running down the city streets with the rain cleansing her body, while she searched for the whispered voices calling out to her.
The window she’d unlatched lifted and fell with a gust of strong wind. She jumped, looked over her shoulder, and once again struggled to stay where she stood. Why was she resisting the call?
When she turned back to face the man, he was also staring at the window. “The contamination will only get worse the longer we stay here.”
“How do you know it’s really contaminated out there?”
He shook his head. “It’s been that way since the world outside died. We’re all that’s left of the human race. Don’t you remember?” Frustration manifested in his demeanor—balled fists and the way he refused to look at her.
“What’s your name?” No reason to push him when he was so obviously set in his ways. She knew the air she’d sucked into her lungs hadn’t been polluted. It had tasted cleaner than what was clogging her lungs now, but she wouldn’t rock the boat. This man was some sort of city official and would at least be able to help her get some answers about who she was. A tattoo on her arm and a bunch of whispered voices inside her head did nothing but concrete she might have escaped one of the institutional buildings. Maybe that’s why these people had hunted her down.
No, that would mean she’d been responsible for such carnage.
It’s not possible. I couldn’t do this to anyone.
“The name’s Fox, and Iris, I think it’s time we get the hell out of here.”
“Why?” Her skin crawled. They were no longer alone. The scrabbling of small feet she’d noticed earlier was louder, multiplied. The boxes around her bobbed up and down, as if thousands of them walked beneath. Something touched her bare feet, while something else ran over her toes.
“That’s why!” Fox took a steady step back. “Move.”
“What are they?” Her skin itched even more than it had when she’d first donned the clothes. Vermin wouldn’t behave this way, would they?
Fox took another step back, drawing a gun from his thigh holster and holding it up in front of him. “Could be rats. No one’s sure about what lives this far down. We’re just below street level, and I’ve never dared to venture this low. Not even the slum-heads do. Things are bad enough on the tenth floor. Now, come on and head for the doorway. We gotta go.”
She didn’t need further encouragement. The creatures were already trying to climb up her legs. She kicked them off, taking large steps and increasing her pace with each one.
Little, red eyes glared up at her, their tiny whiskers twitching. These weren’t normal rats, and this many of them would definitely cause permanent damage. They might not have been responsible for the deaths inside this basement, but they’d come to reap the rewards.
“It’s the blood.” Fox echoed her thoughts. “Come on. Their numbers are coming out of the woodwork.”
One jumped onto the back of her head and tangled up in her long mane as she desperately tried to shake it loose with her hands. Another jumped on her top, scrambling higher, faster than she could react. Small teeth tore through the fabric of her shirt and sank into the skin just above her breasts.
She screamed at the stinging pain. The rat squealed and fell off her. A blast had exterminated it. Fox stood on the other side of the basement, gun still gripped in his hands.
Her stomach twisted into knots, disgusted. As if she hadn’t been through enough already.
/> “Come on. I can’t keep shooting them one by one.” Fox ran toward the doorway up ahead.
Iris followed close at his heels, but each step felt as if she were treading through mud. For every step she took, she lost another three by the current of rats pushing beneath. They were biting her feet, little claws clinging to her shirt and pants as they climbed higher.
Shots fired around the basement, each one miraculously missing her but making her ears ache. Still, the rats continued to rise along her body. All were eager to consume her, just as they’d already begun with the corpses. All the blood still stuck to her body—even after she’d concealed it—seemed to call out to them. She might as well be wearing a target.
Her body was almost consumed by the critters, and she would probably die without finding out why she’d woken up bloody and alone inside this basement. Why she’d risked life and limb to reach out for the outside world, or why her memory was fractured.
The wind continued to call her every time the window lifted and fell, while a different, tiny voice reminded her of the toxic air outside: “The Corporation claims the oxygen is only clear and safe inside the buildings. The world outside will shrivel up your lungs. The dangers are drummed into the population enough times via advertisements. You need to remember.”
The voice was wrong. Not even a burn had resulted from the many breaths of rain-stained air she’d sucked into her lungs.
Was she starting to remember things from her past? Would she eventually regain every thought she’d lost?
Not that it mattered. Iris was almost completely consumed by rats.
Fox screamed her name. His gun fired continuously, knocking a bunch of critters off her body, but for each one he killed, another ten rose higher. His weapon wouldn’t be enough to save her.
Nothing can save me.
Maybe, she was here to die inside this basement for a reason.
Iris closed her eyes and willed her body to calm down, allowing the tiny claws to crawl over her as the tiny teeth gnawed into her skin.
Iris Page 2
