Outbreak: A Nightshades Novel

by Melissa F. Olson

  Getting in the building hadn’t been as difficult as Alex had feared. Noelle’s office was close to the building’s rear entrance, so it didn’t involve passing a bunch of witnesses, and Lindy had mesmerized two security guards and a janitor to forget they’d been there. The security guard had been perfectly content to erase the security footage of their arrival.

  Noelle herself was the bigger risk: Alex didn’t know her very well, but even he could see that despite her punk hairdo and cavalier attitude, she loved her job with the Bureau. She didn’t seem alarmed or worried when they walked in. Even so, Lindy was leaning against a wall at least ten feet away, so Noelle wouldn’t be worried about getting mesmerized. She had pulled down the sleeves of her denim jacket so Noelle wouldn’t notice the missing bracelet.

  “No,” Alex said. “I can find some assholes and steal meth. I called you in on a Saturday to make me a dart gun that can deliver it quickly.”

  Noelle looked thoughtful. “I got the text bulletin about the two shade attacks on the Bureau this morning,” she said. “And I have a friend who works for CNN in DC who says that there are a number of anti-shade protests going on in DC tonight and tomorrow. What am I missing, McKenna?”

  Alex and Lindy exchanged a look. No one at the Bureau had told Noelle they suspected Lindy’s involvement . . . which explained why she hadn’t pulled the fire alarm the moment they’d walked in.

  In his head, Alex heard Lindy’s voice say, If you tell her, she might sound the alarm. It was scary how he was getting used to hearing her like that.

  Alex gave a tiny head shake and said, “Look, Noelle, the truth is that the deputy director thinks Lindy was involved in the attacks. But I know she didn’t do it. Lindy wants to get Hector even more than we do.”

  Noelle gave Lindy a wary look. “No offense, but why should I believe that? Couldn’t you just have mesmerized Alex to bring you here and ask me for this?”

  “That’s a fair question,” Lindy admitted. “But, look, do you know how shade saliva works?”

  “The shade touches saliva to the victim’s skin, which triggers hallucinogenic properties after absorption. This makes the recipient pliable and suggestible,” Noelle replied, sounding like she’d memorized an official memo. Maybe she had.

  “Yeah. Watch.” Lindy stepped toward them, and Noelle immediately backed away toward the wall—but Lindy just touched her finger to her mouth and then laid her hand on Alex’s arm. “Alex,” she said in a low, hypnotic voice, “stand on one foot.”

  Alex shot her a grin. “Nah.”

  Noelle didn’t look convinced. “How do I know you really got shade saliva on your finger?” she pointed out.

  Damn. Alex should have known Noelle would react like a scientist. Before Lindy could answer, Alex reached for her waist and pulled her close. Lindy’s eyes were startled—really?—but Alex dipped his head and kissed her, long enough to leave absolutely no uncertainty. When Lindy finally pulled back, Alex was a little breathless.

  “Whoa,” Noelle said under her breath. “Okay. I don’t usually say this about straight people, but that was hot.”

  Alex raised his eyebrows at Lindy, who looked slightly flustered. Then she pulled herself together, looked around for a second, and said, “Alex, pick up that pencil.”

  Alex smiled at her and crossed his arms over his chest. He glanced at Noelle, whose eyes widened. Circling around Lindy, she picked up a penlight from the scattered supplies on the table and pulled on Alex’s shoulder so he would turn toward her. He held still while she shone the light into his eyes. “Normal pupil response,” she said, mostly to herself. “You’re one of the immune.”

  A tiny percent of the population was naturally resistant to shade saliva—just as a tiny percent was particularly vulnerable to it. Noelle took a step back, studying the BPI agent.

  “And I know for a fact that Lindy wasn’t involved in either attack,” Alex told her. “She was with me all night.”

  “Oh. Oh. Right.” Noelle chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment. “Lindy could have set it up in advance and used you for her alibi,” she pointed out, but her voice lacked conviction.

  “Without even a call or a text message to tell her the job was successful?” he countered, shaking his head. “Look, I trust her. My pod trusts her. And one thing I know for sure is that if Lindy is sent to Camp Vamp, we have no chance of catching Hector without a lot of lives lost.”

  Noelle studied him for a long moment, then nodded to herself. “All right,” she said. “I never found out that Lindy is wanted for questioning. Why meth?”

  As Lindy explained how the synthetic drug worked to short out a shade’s nervous system, Noelle’s eyes lit up. The Bureau had spent months searching for a weapon that worked better than “use a whole bunch of bullets” and she was obviously excited to finally have an answer.

  “Okay,” she said when Lindy finished. “As far as I’m concerned, Alex asked me to come in and work on this weapon in response to the attack on Camp Vamp. Got it?”

  “Got it,” they both said.

  Everyone sat down, and Noelle took notes while Lindy described the dart gun that Reagan had used. The engineer asked a couple of follow-up questions about the speed and trigger mechanism, and then she turned to Alex. “This shouldn’t be too hard. It’s pretty simple to get the type of dart guns used at zoos and national parks, but given the reaction speed we’ve seen from shades, I’d likely want to boost the dart velocity and maybe the trigger response. I’ll also need to figure out dosage requirements and make sure the—”

  She broke off as her desk phone began to ring. They all looked at each other. “I didn’t tell anyone I was coming in,” she said before Alex could ask. Noelle went over and picked up the phone.

  “Hello?” She listened for a moment, growing concerned. “Okay, thanks, Lionel.”

  She slammed the receiver down. “That was the security desk at the front of the building. Gil Palmer is on his way.”

  Chapter 8

  WHEN NOELLE AGREED TO help them, Lindy almost sagged with relief. She was fairly weak at the moment, given the daylight and the time outside, and she’d already put a lot of effort into escaping Gil’s team and mesmerizing the guards. She hadn’t been looking forward to the effort of mesmerizing Noelle, too.

  And then Gil himself arrived.

  He was coming from the front of the building, but he’d have to use the same hallway they would need to exit. Lindy was preparing herself to attack and mesmerize him when Noelle made a shooing motion. “Just . . . go hide!”

  That seemed kind of ridiculous, but before Lindy could say so, Alex darted toward the attached bathroom. He went in without turning on the light, leaving the door cracked open. Lindy shrugged to herself. It seemed silly, but hiding would be easier than mesmerizing Gil Palmer before he could get to his gun. She went to Noelle’s desk and tucked herself into the footwell.

  They heard the footsteps a moment later, and then Palmer’s familiar voice. “Hey, kid.”

  “Hey,” Noelle replied. “I’m twenty-seven, old man.” But it was said affectionately, like they’d had the exchange many times before.

  “Still a kid to me. What are you doing in today?”

  “Just working on a pet project,” Noelle said. “What’s up?”

  “I was wondering if you could get anything off these for me.”

  Lindy heard the sound of something plastic being laid on the table. “Cell phones?” Noelle sounded surprised. “Dude, we have technicians who specialize in these. I’m an engineer.”

  “I know, but this is delicate. You heard about the attacks on the detention facility, and the transportation van?”

  “I did.”

  “We think Rosalind Frederick was involved. This phone here is hers, and the other is Alex McKenna’s.”

  There was a brief pause, and then Noelle asked, “Where did you get these?”

  “I found them at Frederick’s house this morning. No sign of her or Alex.”

&nbs
p; “And what’s your evidence against Lin—uh, Rosalind Frederick?” Noelle sounded genuinely curious, and Lindy suspected she didn’t totally trust that Alex was telling the truth.

  Gil made a scoffing sound. “Come on, Noelle. I know you’re in on the fact that she’s Hector’s sister. And Hector’s people magically escape custody, only weeks after Frederick signs on to help us? It’s so obvious.”

  Lindy rolled her eyes. Gil had always struck her as a smart man, but he wasn’t exactly a creative thinker.

  Noelle must have agreed, because her next comment was, “That’s circumstantial as hell, Gil.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s why I need you to get into these phones. Going through the phone carriers will take forever, especially on a weekend, and we’re trying to keep Lindy’s involvement quiet internally until we can locate her. Can you do it?”

  There was a long pause, with only the sound of plastic crinkling, as though Noelle were examining the phones through the bag. “I can try,” she said at last.

  “Thanks.” Gil sounded relieved . . . but there were no immediate footsteps, or any other sign that he was leaving.

  After an awkward pause, Noelle asked, “How is Lori doing these days?”

  “She’s . . .” Palmer sounded surprised, then dejected. “Not so great. The cancer is progressing faster than her doctors had hoped.”

  “Send her my best, okay?”

  “Thanks. Thanks for asking about her, kid.”

  “You’re welcome, old man.”

  At last, there were shuffling footsteps in the direction of the door, and Lindy started to relax. But then Palmer said, “Hey, you mind if I use your bathroom quick before I go?”

  Lindy cursed inwardly, but Noelle didn’t miss a beat. Her voice was perfectly casual as she said, “It’s clogged, actually. Maintenance can’t get to it until Monday. But there’s one down the hall to the right.”

  Lindy waited to hear Palmer’s footsteps, but they didn’t come. There was a long, pregnant moment of silence, and then Palmer said in a studiously casual voice, “I’ll just wash my hands then.”

  He began moving toward the bathroom, ignoring all of Noelle’s further attempts at dissuading him. The bathroom was on the wall opposite the desk, so Lindy silently pushed the rolling chair away from her, coiling herself to spring across the room. She leaned her head far enough out to see Palmer, his back to her, reaching for the bathroom door.

  And then she realized how Alex was going to react: violently. If he attacked Gil Palmer, even just to knock him out, this thing would snowball even further. Lindy had one second to decide.

  Alex, stay right there.

  She pushed the rolling chair hard, so it slammed backward into the wall with a thunk that could be heard over Noelle’s protestations. Both she and Gil went quiet.

  “What was that?” Palmer said.

  “Uh . . . maybe one of the rats escaped from the lab down the hall?”

  Lindy heard a quiet snap, and knew Palmer was pulling out his weapon. She raised her hands and slowly stood up. “I’m here, Agent Palmer. I was mesmerizing Noelle to help me.”

  As she’d expected, Palmer had the sidearm pointed at her chest. “Where is Alex McKenna?” he said, practically snarling.

  Don’t you dare come out, Alex. “On his way to Washington, as far as I know.”

  She was a good liar. Uncertainty flickered in his eyes, but only briefly. “How did you get his cell phone?”

  Lindy feigned confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  “It was found at your place this morning.”

  She shrugged. “He came in for coffee last night after he dropped me off. He must have forgotten it.”

  Gil seemed to decide that further questioning could wait. “I’m taking you into custody,” he announced.

  Lindy suddenly felt weary. The day had already been far too thrilling. Moving very slowly, she sat down in the chair, ignoring Palmer’s shout of protest. “Really?” she said. “How do you plan to do that?”

  Palmer eyed Noelle. “Kid, go get me some help.”

  “I mesmerized her, remember?” Lindy countered. “Stay right there, Noelle.”

  Noelle froze, a look of surprise and indecision on her face. They both knew Lindy hadn’t touched her. If she obeyed Palmer, he would know that she hadn’t really been mesmerized, which would mean she had voluntarily helped Lindy hide from him. Then again, if Noelle stayed still, she’d have to carry on the charade and do whatever Lindy told her. She stayed where she was, but shot Lindy a look that said, I hope you know what you’re doing.

  Palmer missed this because his eyes were locked on Lindy. His face was stony, but when she concentrated a moment she could hear his pulse racing. He was terrified of her. Smart.

  “You know I could take that gun away from you, right?” she said mildly, leaning back in the chair. Palmer’s lips tightened briefly, but he said nothing. “I’m not necessarily faster than a bullet, you understand, but I can certainly dodge out of the way in time, even during daylight hours. I can probably cross the room and take the gun away before you get another chance to aim.” Lindy gave a little shrug, as if none of it made a difference to her. “Then I can mesmerize you to do whatever I want.”

  Palmer’s pulse picked up even further, which made sense. He was enough of a control freak that the thought of being mesmerized scared him more than gunfire. “So how about we do this,” Lindy suggested. “You sit down on the stool and let me explain a few things. If you still want to take me in after that, I’ll go willingly. Promise.”

  His eyes narrowed. “How can I possibly trust your word on that? I don’t know you, I don’t know what you did with Alex McKenna, and—”

  “I’m right here, Palmer.”

  Gil Palmer jumped, instinctively turning to point his weapon at the bathroom door as Alex came through it, looking sheepish. He held his hands away from his body so Gil could see he was unarmed.

  Dammit, Alex! I had this under control.

  “You’re with her?” Gil said incredulously. He lowered the weapon, glancing back and forth between Lindy and Alex. “She’s mesmerized you, man!”

  “He’s immune,” Noelle said quietly. Gil’s head snapped around as he took this in. “Trust me,” Noelle added. “It’s true.”

  Finally, he put the gun back in the holster, but kept his hand on it. “All right,” he said to Lindy, “what the hell is going on?”

  Chapter 9

  Chicago’s Little Italy

  Saturday morning

  SLOANE DROVE THE MASSIVE Hummer past the abandoned building for a third time, his head craned to look for any signs of a trap. An impatient SUV driver behind him blared a horn, and Sloane winced, hoping it wouldn’t wake Reagan. She needed the rest. She really wasn’t old enough to stay awake more than a couple of hours at the beginning and end of the day.

  He waved at the driver to go around and scrutinized the building where he and Reagan had holed up for a couple of weeks before the advance on Switch Creek. They hadn’t actually intended to come back here, but nothing seemed to have changed. He wasn’t even sure what the building had formerly been used for—storage? office space?—but it had a large basement with blacked-out windows that made a perfect bunker. Reagan and the others would have no reason to tell the police about this place, but he needed to be sure there wasn’t a trap waiting for them.

  Finally, Sloane parked the Hummer in the garbage-strewn alley behind the building, where it was hidden from the road. He went in alone through the broken back door, and found everything in the basement exactly as he and Reagan had left it. They had taken their camping equipment with them—he had no idea where it had ended up, probably in a police impound lot in Switch Creek—but the floors would have to do.

  Sloane hauled in the two airtight body bags first, one at a time, because that’s what Reagan would want him to do. When he hurried back for her he didn’t have the heart to stuff her back in the body bag, so he just sort of draped it over her and carried
her inside. She felt so light in his arms.

  With that done, Sloane allowed himself to collapse on the cool concrete floor. He and Reagan had both fed off the guards at the accident scene—they were dead or nearly dead by then—but this was still a lot of daylight activity for him. He wanted to figure out their next move, but his eyes were already drifting shut. Sloane fought it for a few minutes, then gave up and stretched out next to Reagan.

  Just a few hours of rest.

  * * *

  Cozy Conifer Cabins

  Late Saturday morning

  The cabins were just as Hadley remembered.

  She had many fond memories of running around the grounds with her cousins as a child, when her aunt Rose and uncle Julian had managed the cabins. Her cousin Sadie had inherited the property a few years ago, but she was a lackluster manager, putting very little effort into keeping the former family business afloat. Hadley was no longer close to Sadie, who had married young and had three kids with a guy Hadley suspected of at least a few white-collar crimes. Sadie didn’t need the money from the cabins, and she had three young kids to take care of. The cabins were really only open at all out of her distracted sense of obligation.

  All of which worked in Lindy’s favor now. When she’d called her cousin, Sadie had readily agreed to let them have Bear Cub Cabin, the second-largest, and told Hadley where to find the key. The building was in bad need of a paint job, but it was secluded and quiet, with remarkably good wi-fi. That had been Sadie’s one new contribution to the business: she’d figured she could attract businessmen and writers for retreats. Hadley had no idea if it worked, but the cabin was perfect for what they needed.

  She and Ruiz had stopped at a Target for clothes and supplies, then unfolded, smoothed, and hung all of the brown paper along two walls of the cabin. They had to move some of the furniture around and paper over a closet door, but in the end, as they stepped back to look at it, Hadley could immediately see how the whole exercise was worth it. She reached up and touched a thick black line that seemed to serve as a partial timeline of Hector’s life. “You see the starting date on this?”