by Pamela Fryer
“You’re going to be all right.” She sat back and smiled. “You did good, Riley.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself.” He glanced over at Alex Christy, who kicked his legs through the pine litter to roll himself onto his side. A bloody spot stained the front of his trouser leg from the second shot.
“Jesus, Brooke, were you aiming for his balls?”
“Excuse me? That’s your shot. I got him in the shoulder.”
Richard grimaced and belted out another moan as he sat up. “I don’t think so.”
“We’ll let ballistics figure it out. Care to make a wager?”
Sara was shaking. Her body started to convulse and foamy spittle trickled out of her mouth.
Richard gawked, looking grossed out. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s sick,” Brooke told him. “She’s infected with a virus and needs medical attention fast.”
His eyes grew wide. “Is it contagious?”
Brooke struggled to her feet and hobbled over to Alex. She used the toe of her boot to roll him back onto his stomach. The row of teeth marks in the meat of his left palm confirmed her suspicions. Sara had bitten him.
“Yes, it is.”
He was secondary, and at this moment she didn’t really care what happened to him. Whatever he got, he’d asked for. The antidote was for Sara. Brooke knelt beside the girl and pressed the antidote vial against her inner arm.
Heavy footsteps crashed through the forest. Brooke turned around and was swept into Jager’s arms.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, overwhelmed by a misguided sense of relief. He was still leaving, but she had one more chance to say goodbye, and it felt as good as gold.
“I heard gunfire. Are you harmed?”
“No. Just him.” She kicked Alex.
“What about me?” Richard wailed.
Jager turned on him, snarling. “What about you?”
Brooke pulled on his forearm. “It’s okay. He came here to help me.”
He took a threatening step forward. “Convince me that is true.”
Richard scrambled to his knees and scurried away, still holding tightly to his arm. “It’s true, man. I wouldn’t hurt Brooke. Despite it all, I still love her.”
Jager’s fists clenched. She could tell Richard was only making him angrier.
“Jager, Alex has been bitten. Can Sara infect him?”
His hateful glare remained pinned on Richard. “Yes.”
“What are you talking about?” Alex fairly screamed. “I’m dying.”
Brooke shot him an irritated glare. “You aren’t that lucky.”
“I will be if I get this infection you keep talking about.”
She took a step toward him and winced.
Jager caught her. “You are hurt.”
“I twisted my ankle. It’s nothing serious.”
She placed her hand on his chest. He felt wonderfully strong and alive. His powerful warmth chased away the chill she felt as the last ten minutes sank into her head. Alex Christy had tried to kill her a second time. But today, she saw him clearly for what he truly was: a waste of human flesh. While that didn’t make it easier to accept, it did make her realize she was a better person, and a better cop, than he’d ever be.
And more importantly, she’d survived—on her own merits—just as she’d survived that night in Portland. It had been skill, not just divine luck, that had saved her then and now. Somehow she knew the nightmares that had haunted her for years wouldn’t bother her anymore.
She pressed closer as Jager collected her in his arms. “Did you get the Tetra?” she whispered.
“No. I was pursuing it in this direction when I heard the gunfire.” He managed a smile. “I forgot you are capable of taking care of yourself.”
A small, selfish part of her conscience rebelled. She was glad he was here with her, if only for this minute. She knew he had to kill the Tetra before it laid another clutch, but she was thankful for whatever brief time they had together. She was so selfish, she made herself sick.
Sara let out a gurgle and her body arched as a convulsion seized her. Brooke dropped to her knees beside her and pressed her down. “You have to get her back to the medical station.”
“I will not leave you.”
“You can’t carry us both. I’ll be fine. Take Sara, and I’ll follow.”
“I do not feel comfortable leaving you with him.”
Jager was jealous. She would have cried with joy if there wasn’t so much to be worried about. “I’m right behind you, I promise. Help me get him up.”
They hoisted Alex Christy to his feet. He shrieked in pain.
“Shut up,” Brooke snapped. “You got what you deserve.”
“This isn’t over, bitch. You’re gonna pay, if it’s the last thing I do. I’ve got money now. I can hire people.”
Jager punched him in the stomach. Alex doubled over and tried to cough up his gonads.
“Do you have a car?” she asked Richard.
“Alex parked behind yours. Mine’s outside the gates.”
“I can’t walk like this.” Alex’s voice was a pitiful whine.
“I can shoot you in the other leg, and give you an even pair.”
He clamped his mouth shut and glared at her. Brooke shoved him backward and he fell against a tree. “Stay.”
She limped over to Jager as he hoisted Sara onto his shoulder. “Do you have enough antidote for him?” She threw a thumb in Alex’s direction. Jager glanced at him ruefully, probably thinking euthanasia was a better option.
He finally answered the question through gritted teeth. “I am replicating enough for the entire town.”
Her insides turned to warm jelly. She should have known as much. This town was like family, and he had the power to protect everyone in it. He truly was her knight in shining armor.
And she intended to show him how much she appreciated it. “Go.” She nodded, smiling. “Get Sara the medical attention she needs. I’ll be right behind you.”
His gaze flicked nervously over her shoulder. “I will come back for you once she is secured.” He swiveled around and glared at Richard. “You...” He pointed a finger, but didn’t say anything more.
Richard shrank back and grimaced, the message received loud and clear.
Jager turned, slipped his arm around her waist and hauled her against him. He smacked a possessive kiss hard against her lips, making her melt even more. “Do not trust him.” With a final glare at Richard, he turned and headed into the trees at a jog.
Brooke watched him go before she turned back to Richard. “Come on, you, get up.”
“Ah, Jesus.” He yelped when she grabbed his other arm.
“You aren’t hurt that bad.”
“Take it from me, no matter what you hear, you never know what it’s really like until it happens.” He came to his feet as wobbly as a newborn giraffe. “Christ.”
“Are you gonna pass out on me?”
He shook his head, his face chalky.
She pulled his shirttails out of his pants, grateful he’d changed out of his blood-stained butcher’s uniform.
“Ah, God. Easy!” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t let Paul Bunyan see you doing this. I get the feeling he’d like to crush my skull.”
She laughed. “You’re right. I told him about Portland.”
She moved to the other side and ripped his sleeve off, making him yelp again. “Jesus, Brooke. I know you’d like to roast my balls, but gimme a break.”
“I didn’t even touch it.”
“Trust me, it hurts all the way into my toes.”
“Aww, poor baby.”
He drew sharp breaths through clenched teeth as she tied the torn cotton around the wound.
“It hurts so much because the bullet is still in your arm.”
“Yeah, I remember Bullet Wounds 101,” he drawled sarcastically.
She finished the knot. “Feeling woozy? How many fingers?” She wriggled all five in his face.
He swallowed, looking green. “Look, Brooke...I never got a chance to apologize, and this morning I just made things worse. I know it doesn’t mean shit—”
“Stop.” She held up her hand. “You’re right, what you say doesn’t really matter. But what you did for me here today does. We’re square.”
“Really?” He managed a smile. Alex made a snorting sound. They ignored him. “So your boyfriend won’t pulverize me?”
She shrugged. “No guarantees.”
Richard made a sheepish face. “I wouldn’t want any less for you. Where did you find him, anyway?”
Brooke smiled. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
* * * * *
He’d found the crashed ships easily enough after following Richard Riley as Richard followed Alex Christy. The day had fallen neatly into place ever since Brooke Weaver walked into the diner this morning.
Humans were so predictable.
And as far as he knew, Jager Tolon still believed he had been sent to help exterminate the Tetra.
He’d been sitting by the window when Brooke had pulled past the diner and into a parking space with Jager in the passenger seat. It had been a glimpse, and he almost hadn’t recognized him, but the lieutenant’s sheer size gave him away.
He’d nearly left the diner and followed Brooke himself, but when Alex Christy suddenly got up to take care of “personal business,” Roall took a gamble and followed him.
Somehow, they were tied together by an incident in the past. All he knew was Richard Riley, the man who’d just taken a bullet in the arm, used to be a cop but wasn’t anymore. Roall didn’t care. It was just too bad the inept fools didn’t kill Jager before they’d shot themselves to hell.
He had his own handheld monitor, an older model Faron device, but he’d lost the Tetra’s signal six minutes ago. Perhaps Jager had killed it. The Rendarions would not be happy to hear that. Getting it here had been no easy feat.
Roall looked at the monitor again. Three figures converged just ahead of him, and he had a visual through the trees. About a mile away, one figure carrying another over his shoulder moved swiftly in the direction of the downed ships. It was Jager, carrying an infected human. Probably the missing girl Brooke had been trying to find.
Roall didn’t care if they managed to cure her. Though she couldn’t be re-infected, she could still be food.
In two weeks, the town would be annihilated, and the invasion would be unstoppable. In two months’ time, human kind would be on the brink of extinction. In six months, this planet would be prime real estate.
All he had to do was kill Jager Tolon.
* * * * *
Brooke hobbled through the trees in the general direction of the ship. She could place weight on her ankle, and as long as she didn’t bend it, it didn’t hurt.
She had been given another chance to say goodbye to Jager, and she intended to make it a goodbye he’d never forget. She understood he had to place all his attentions on killing the Tetra, but she didn’t doubt his capabilities. He was the strongest man she’d ever met.
When he’d said he was replicating enough of the vaccination to treat the entire town, she’d almost gone utterly female on him and started bawling. Had Richard and that piece of shit Christy not been there, she probably would have.
Without realizing it, she’d increased her pace. She was eager to show him how grateful she was. Brooke wrenched her sprained ankle and jerked to a stop, bracing against the narrow trunk of a spruce as the pain flared and then slowly faded. She heard it then: voices, and not far away.
It was Jager and another man. She leaned around the tree so she could see better. A twinge raced from her ankle all the way into her hip.
If an official had encountered him, Jager would have trouble explaining himself. The last thing she needed was the FBI getting hold of him and taking Sara to the hospital before she could be placed in the medical chamber.
How would she ever explain Jager out of jail? If he were arrested, she would have to go after the Tetra herself. On a sprained ankle, that would be nearly impossible. And she still didn’t know how to access all the features on the Xinotype. Was there even another one on the ship? She couldn’t be sure exactly what remained in Jager’s arsenal.
Besides, she never wanted to see that foul beast, or one of its disgusting offspring, ever again. Hell, she never wanted to see a house spider ever again.
She squinted through the trees. The man with Jager was one of the four from the diner this morning. Did Jager know he was a cop? She watched as they each held up their left hands and placed them palm to palm. Green light glowed between their joined hands.
She let out the breath she’d been holding. It was the other agent Jager was supposed to encounter yesterday, complete with a secret decoder ring. No wonder he was nearly as tall and burly as Jager.
But what had he been doing with Alex Christy and Peter Yelton? She wondered if he was trustworthy. She thought back to his granite, unfriendly expression this morning. It was hard to remember, as she’d been so focused on Peter and his nasty comments.
Their gestures became more animated, and Jager stepped past him to continue in her direction. The other man turned back in the direction of the ship where Jager had just come from. Brooke stepped out from behind the tree.
The other man drew a Xinotype. Brooke’s heart leapt into her throat. Was the Tetra nearby? Her fingers touched cold steel and her weapon was in her hand before she’d made the decision.
“Cop instinct is in your blood ,” her mother once told her. “You’ll never be anything but.”
That instinct was alive like fire in her veins. This man was a threat. She sucked in a breath to scream a warning. “No!”
Yellow light burst behind Jager, illuminating the forest like a lightning strike. His arms flew wide and his mouth opened in a silent shout. He went down, exposing his attacker.
The man looked up, surprised, and raised his aim.
Brooke fired three times, emptying her weapon straight into his chest. He staggered backward, throwing his Xinotype as his arms flung wide. He jerked under each impact, falling to the forest floor as if in slow motion. She squeezed the trigger again and again, even though nothing was coming out. She didn’t hear the empty clicks or her feet running through dry pine needles as she raced toward Jager.
Panicked sounds reached her ears: her own voice chanting over and over, “No, no, no!”
She slid to her knees beside him. His shirt was scorched on the back, but the strange fabric was still intact.
“Jager, oh God, please be alive.” She heaved him over. He rolled like a sack of potatoes and fell, as still as death. His face was ashen. He wasn’t breathing. There was no pulse.
He was dead.
Chapter Fifteen
It stops the heart, and then you must sever the head.
That bastard had stopped Jager’s heart. From the corner of her eye, she saw the other man writhing on the ground a few feet away. If there had been another bullet in her gun, she would have put it between his eyes.
Brooke pinched Jager’s nose shut and tilted his head back. She pushed a breath into his lungs and then rose onto her knees to administer CPR.
One. Two. Three. Breathe.
Please, Jager, please. Don’t die on me!
One. Two. Three. Breathe.
I need you. Please. I love you. Don’t leave me.
One. Two. Three. Breathe.
She prayed the weapon didn’t do more than stop his heart. If the pulse roasted his internal organs, there was no saving him. Even if it hadn’t, CPR still might not work. She’d never been one for prayer—she much preferred to rely on the physical and controllable—but she issued a silent prayer anyway.
“Please, come back to me, baby.”
One. Two. Three. Breathe.
Jager’s body hitched. He coughed, drawing a shuddering breath. Relief bloomed in her like the first rays of sunshine on a cold morning.
Thank
you, God!
Brooke bent over him, not daring to touch him even though she ached to throw her arms around him. His heart would be weak now, but she could see the pulse throbbing in his throat. His lips were blue, but they were parted, and she rejoiced over each glorious breath.
Jager’s eyelids fluttered and opened. He stared into the canopy above. “Brooke...”
“Don’t move, sweetheart.” She forced the gentle command through the sobs wracking her chest.
“Roall,” he whispered.
“He’s...” She glanced over. The wounded man reached fruitlessly toward his Xinotype with a shaking hand. Blood stained the front of his shirt and gurgled out of his mouth. So bullets could penetrate their strange clothing.
“Don’t worry about him. He can’t hurt you now. Please, just rest.”
“Have to...find Tetra.” He lifted his head.
Brooke placed a hand on his shoulder. “You need to lay still. I’m going to the ship.”
He sagged back onto the ground and stared up at her.
“Don’t move. Promise me you won’t move.”
He closed his eyes and nodded ever so slightly in silent agreement. She placed his Xinotype into his palm and watched his fingers close around it.
She rose and stalked over to the other agent, dimly aware her ankle no longer hurt, thanks to the adrenaline pumping through her.
He lay sprawled on his back, staring at his Xinotype. She snatched it up, strode over to him, and kicked him in the head. His eyes closed and he fell still.
She returned to Jager and knelt beside him. She touched his cheek with a fingertip. “I’ll be right back. Keep your promise. Don’t move.”
His glassy gaze slid to her. He managed a thin smile. His lips moved. “Promise.”
“Don’t you do something stupid like die on me. I need you. Do you hear me?”
“Don’t want to...make you mad.”
She smiled through her tears. “Smart man.” Brooke cupped his cheeks and kissed him lightly on the lips.
She rose on quivering legs and raced through the forest with an angel on her shoulder. They’d been north of the plant so the backside of the manufacturing building came into view first, and then the burnt path crossing the road.
