“Your third and final mistake was to make your return from the dead official,” Hamilton recounted. “Maybe they would have ignored you if you’d let her take over the lab in that town in Kansas. What’s it called?”
“Aurora,” Red and I offered in unison. Hamilton snorted at my glare, easily holding it now.
“That one. Not saying you didn’t have a target painted on the back of your head by then, but if you’d stayed behind, Raynor would have put everything in motion to bring you up to her little kingdom, and you would have been out of harm’s way at the very least.” He chuckled to himself as he focused on Nate again. “Serves you right that of all the billions of cunts in the world, you find the one that matches your crazy—and your utter carelessness, borne from the conviction that you’re invincible. Not only did she, quite publicly, throw her lot in with you, no. She had to go the whole nine yards and stress to everyone who wanted to listen, and those who didn’t, that you two were a thing. Not going to repeat that quote for sensitive ears here, but that was pretty irrefutable.”
“What, you keeping a file on all the shit I say?” I huffed, more intrigued than annoyed.
“Huge file,” Bucky succinctly told me. “You signed your death warrant that day.”
Now didn’t that sound dramatic? I would have loved to call bullshit, but I had the strong—and quite uncomfortable—feeling that, for once, he was telling the truth.
“Then why am I still alive?” I would have loved to proclaim that with a taunting lilt to my voice, but it came out more like a dry rasp.
Bucky’s smirk was back in full force. “Why do you ask questions that you already know the answer to?” And fuck, did I hate that he even did a very good imitation of Nate’s voice asking me that. He dropped it as he went on explaining. “Guess there are still gaps you’re not quite sure how to fill. The moment they knew your dear husband was back on the playing field, they wanted him back in the fold. Not without consequences for his transgressions, but nothing like the end of the world to offer up some second chances, right?” His gaze dropped on Nate. “It was only due to the drag in communication speed that let you get out of both Dispatch and the Silo before they could send me there to fetch you. What comes next, you already know.” He allowed himself another chuckle. “Damn, it was great to see the desperation on your face when we cornered you in that factory. Kudos to you. I didn’t expect that you’d have it in you to blindly sacrifice several of your men to save her. You still failed. How did that make you feel?” Nate didn’t deign to respond.
“The official orders were to bring you both in, and whoever else could be persuaded to come along. Goes without saying that I received my personal orders directly. A kill order for her and anyone you’d ever worked with for more than a single assignment, or who I thought might mean something to you. In the unlikely event of your immediate surrender, I was to take her into custody alive, but we all know that neither of you would have wanted that.” He graced me with a sidelong glance. “You think almost dying of getting savaged by zombies was bad? That was child’s play compared to what would have happened to you otherwise.” He paused, this time to consider, not just for annoying effect. “Guess there was a slim chance that they would have decided to try to use you later on, but nobody thought you’d be useful as a fighter back then. Be glad. You would have hated the husk of your former self that they’d have turned you into. You would have survived that, I guess, considering that you didn’t give up just because you started rotting from the inside out. Had they known you were cut from that cloth, they never would have let you go.”
“Not much of that ‘letting’ actually happened,” Nate pointed out. “We beat you fair and square, against all odds.”
Bucky laughed, for once amused. “Ah, now, did you? Or did I let you go? Let me think.” He went as far as to pensively scratch his chin, his eyes never leaving Nate’s. “Right. I let you go. Because the last thing I needed was you back in the game, and likely twice as insufferable once you got out of the re-education camp. Or was it sheer sentimentality that made me give the order to fall back and not kill every living soul in that damn building just to hunt you down? Can’t be, right? Because we both know they beat that shit right out of us both.”
Another nugget, and judging from the harsh set of Nate’s jaw, not something he liked to be reminded of.
“You really didn’t suspect that they sent us there to get you back?” Bucky asked. “Come on. You turned into a veritable U-boat after that. You must have suspected something.”
Nate took his sweet time responding, and I didn’t miss that, twice, he cast a cautious look my way. “Suspected? Yes. But the chances that anyone was still alive who had a personal grudge against me were nil. And why would you have let me go in Aurora if you’d still wanted me back in the fold?”
“Why indeed,” Bucky drawled. “You know that’s not how Decker works.”
“I didn’t think he could still be alive,” Nate echoed his previous sentiment. “Or that anyone would be stupid enough to put him in charge.”
Hamilton chortled with mirth. “I don’t think it was a conscious decision. You missed out on a lot of infighting behind the scenes. At first, everyone was scurrying to survive. Then there were so many different factions to unite, each one trying to make a grab for control while not giving an inch of what they’d already secured. Trade had to be established, settlements secured, troops redistributed. Who would have paid one single old man much notice? He wasn’t stupid. He reached out to us first, secured his base. And by the time anyone else was aware of his return, it was already too late.” Another pause. “Not that most minded. The worse the times get, the more people look for a leader, particularly one who pretends to leave them a little more independence than they ask for and is happy to remain in the shadows. Sound familiar?”
It did, and I so didn’t like Bucky throwing me that bone to chew on. That sounded a lot like the shit Nate had been pulling for most of the year, if on a smaller scale. I could tell that he knew the damage was done, but Nate didn’t give Bucky the satisfaction to look at me, apologetic or not.
“Are you done yet?” he asked instead.
“Not by a mile,” Bucky confided. “But I don’t want to bore you with the details. Long story short, when I returned empty-handed, they decided to let someone else prove his competence.”
“Taggard,” I guessed when Bucky didn’t volunteer the information right away. I had been wondering where he came onto the stage.
He nodded. “He and Alders—that senile of fuck of a doctor—already had their sick little serum farm set up. No need to ask me about the details, that’s one of the factions I never had anything to do with except reading the files after the fact. All it took was to set a trap using that girl from the other scavenger group, and of course you waltzed right in.” Another dramatic pause followed, until I was close to going back on my stance not to try to physically harm him. “Far as I know, the kill order on you was still active, but I don’t need to repeat that Taggard was barely more than a sock puppet with about as much intellect. Rather than kill you, he took his sweet time locking you up in that tiny cell so he could torment you, and what happened after that he sure had comin’. Still baffles me how he managed to take out most of your merry band of misfits when he was already limping back to the only one who still had his back, for her very own morbid reasons.”
Listening to him so casually refer to us losing everyone but the four of us who’d been in the settlement to talk while Andrej had taken up the pursuit—killing one, and severely maiming several others, not the least Andrej and Martinez—made me gnash my teeth hard enough that the enamel should have cracked. I swallowed my ire, instead forcing myself to focus on the new information.
That last bit he’d offered up I could guess at. “So Raynor really knew I was infected back then.” Question was, whether or how she’d been connected with Taggard—and Alders—before that.
Bucky graced me with a bright smile. “As soon a
s one of the lab techs called her from the Silo, after you resurfaced from not biting it. She heard about Taggard’s undertaking by accident, and let’s just say that she wasn’t too heartbroken to get some extra lab results ahead of him delivering you personally. She must have known that was never his intention until she ended up being his only option, but he was an alternative to me. Damned if I know why that woman doesn’t like me.” Judging from his ongoing smile, he was very aware of said reason.
“So they sent you to the Colorado base to make up for your previous failure, seeing as Taggard hadn’t had much more success?” I ventured a guess.
“See, you can be smart if your fucking misguided idealism doesn’t get in the way,” Hamilton jeered. “Command wasn’t happy about the developments that happened over the summer. It was a close to serendipitous moment when we got the news that you were rallying everyone who would follow to come after us. Nobody would have profited from slaughtering the lot of you, and some factions were lobbying that having all the misfits rally under someone they knew had leadership qualities was in our best interest.” Nate didn’t react to his smirk. “Raynor’s insistence got more urgent that you were on borrowed time, so my kill order was rescinded. Why bother when we could just let nature take its course? One invitation, lost in the heat of battle. Stranger things have happened.” And he’d likely gotten a commendation for what I’d believed was one of his greater missteps. Ah well. In the light of recent revelations, I didn’t give a shit about that anymore.
Nate cleared his throat after a few tense seconds. “What changed?”
Bucky shrugged. “She didn’t die quickly enough,” he offered. “And the snow storm you encountered on the way to the Silo might have hampered communications.”
Wait, what were they talking about now? What change was Nate referring to? Proving once more that he could pretty much read my mind, Nate shrugged. “They could have easily killed you at the Silo. And we never would have made it to the base on our own after the cars broke down. Those ATVs didn’t plant themselves out there, fully operational.”
“Let’s say that I was personally motivated by the idea of gloating into your rotting face one last time after you realized that it was thanks to me that you were dying,” Bucky provided conversationally. It was my turn to sneer at him, but I regretted that a second later when his eyes lit up. Uh oh. Dangerous territory. I cast around for what to say to cut this short, but Hamilton was already talking, explaining with glee once more taking over his voice. “And my, did you look pathetic when you couldn’t even undress yourself anymore without help. But I have to hand it to you, I hadn’t expected you to be such a tenacious bitch. Color me impressed. Impressed enough that I figured you deserved a chance to live.”
I bit down hard on my tongue to keep myself from responding. Sadly, Nate had other ideas.
“Like you had anything to do with that,” he bit out, heat returning to his tone.
Bucky snorted, unimpressed. I absolutely hated the smile spreading on his face. “You really think that her undying love for you would have been enough to get her through that shit? Guess again. I know, Richards here agrees with you. His idea was to kill you both with kindness. Figuratively speaking, of course.” The way he laughed let me guess that he didn’t think Red capable of cold-blooded murder. “He wrote your psych profile, just saying,” Bucky told me. “Lots and lots of bullshit in there that’s absolutely useless. He wanted us to welcome you with open arms. To shame you into cooperating because all of your many misconceptions had led to deaths that weighed so heavily on your soul now, boohoo. That was obvious from all the data they’d managed to gather on you. But they were lacking one crucial detail that, somehow, everyone overlooked.”
I didn’t want to, but I just had to bite. “Which is?”
Bucky’s smile brightened. “That he”—he indicated Nate—“is the one who indoctrinated you. The one who made you into his perfect little murder doll. Whether consciously or just on instinct, he taught you how to survive, and that at whatever cost. Only makes sense. That’s his one defining trait that rules over everything he does. I never found out if he’s actually a highly functioning psychopath who’s absolutely perfect at pretending to be a semi-moral human being, or the other way round. It doesn’t matter. You took your clues from him and made his template yours. Decker never really understood him, not like I did, because some things you only learn about someone if you’re really fucking tight. Until that very last resort, you may delude yourself that it’s positive thinking that gets you through the day. But once you’re at the end of the line, the only thing that will let you survive is cold, hard anger. And my, didn’t I give you enough of that to last you for a long, long life?”
I didn’t try to refute his claim, not even to myself. Especially not to myself. I couldn’t remember when that had occurred to me, but all the denial I had in me hadn’t been enough to convince myself otherwise. Yet it was one thing to know, deep down, but quite another to stare the truth in the smirking face.
Uncustomarily for him, Hamilton didn’t dwell too long on that, but instead made a grandiose gesture with both arms. “Aren’t we all glad I did? I’m not saying I was acting altruistic here. You dying on the operating room table would have turned your husband into a walking bomb. Me killing you outright would have done the same. Decker turning you into a broken and barely put-back-together assassin would have done the same. Anything that would have ended with him losing you would have done the deed. It pains me to admit it, Miller, but yes, you are better than me at one thing: you would have deceived the master deceiver. You would have pretended to roll over and take it, then waited, forever holding your breath, until you were close enough to kill that old bastard and rid the world of him. There wouldn’t have been any consequences for me for doing that except having you back around with your superior attitude and your fucking need to excel at everything. Why would I want that? Can’t be that, old sentimental fool that I am, I felt like my old friend deserved a shot at a life I’ll never have? No, I’d never do that. They made sure that compassion isn’t on my list of emotions that I’m still capable of.”
He offered the last with a wry grin, but dropped it the next second.
“I consider my debt repaid. I know I said I’d never be able to do that, but that was back when I couldn’t fathom you’d ever change. Now you both owe me. And what you will do to work that off is make sure that this mission is a fucking phenomenal success. I don’t give a shit if you’re moping all over Europe, but you’ll do it quietly and efficiently, do you understand? And once we get back to the States, you do what you should have done last year when you had the chance: you will disappear, and you’ll make damn sure that no one will ever find you again. I’ve worked my ass off to secure the position I hold, and I will not lose it to a damn people pleaser and his psychotic bitch. Do we understand each other?”
Nate didn’t object nor did he waste a second before he inclined his head. “We do.”
“Good,” Bucky surmised, looking my way as if he expected me to object. I didn’t. Once he made sure of that, he started forward, walking between us back toward the camp. His mostly silent entourage didn’t hang back, some of them looking bored, most a little distraught. I didn’t miss the fact that Red was foremost pensive.
I’d expected Burns to remain with us, but he mumbled something about filling Gita and Tanner in that nobody had lynched us yet. Well, not physically. One glance at Nate’s face, and I wasn’t so sure about his mental state—or my own.
“We should have gone to Alaska, huh?” I offered when nothing else came to mind.
“We should have gone to Alaska,” Nate agreed with me. It hadn’t exactly been a serious plan, but before we’d set out from the bunker, back in spring, I’d jokingly suggested it.
Exhaling slowly—and feeling like this was the first free breath I took in fucking forever—I tried to sort the thoughts racing through my head but it was impossible. So many questions, but none of them vital—except fo
r one.
“What debt was he referring to?” I could tell that I didn’t need to explain.
Nate slowly turned to face me, still looking moderately shell-shocked, but didn’t hesitate. That didn’t bode well. “I lied. I know exactly what soured our friendship. What turned him into the man he is today.”
“And that is?” I knew I didn’t want to hear this, but that damn tenacious curiosity got the better of me again.
Nate grimaced but complied. “We didn’t get stone drunk the night before they shot us up with the serum. Not on our own, that is.” He paused, but I could tell it wasn’t out of avoidance but because he was trying to think of the best way to explain this to me. “He’s right. I had it easy. Easier than him, at least. Not because all doors opened magically for me or some shit. I earned every fucking bit of that, and paid a steeper price for it than he’ll ever know. It doesn’t matter. He’s right when he says I’m good at hiding my emotions. Part of that is due to the fact that I was blessed with a brother who was even better at that. They believed me when I said that I had no emotional ties to anyone whatsoever. My father was dead at the time, my mother had pretty much disowned me for daring to squander my intellectual potential and wanting to join the Army straight out of high school. My brother was wrapping up his studies at the other end of the country and he didn’t even call for my graduation. I was the perfect white canvas, and very eager to learn.”
“And Bucky?”
Nate sighed. “He pretended to be the same. On the outside, that worked well enough. He came from a family of flaming liberals, if you would believe it.” He barked a brief laugh. “Sam and you would have fit perfectly into one of their New York City dinner parties, back before I met you. He was the typical rebel middle child. Bright enough to make it into several Ivy League schools but that wasn’t the way he chose. And he did a good job leaving his former life behind—but he couldn’t leave behind his little sister, even though he tried.”
Catharsis Page 31
