“Shit.” He lifted his head, dull color tinting his cheekbones.
Indy tried to get her breathing under control. “Keep your damn lips to yourself, Griff.”
“You liked the kiss.”
“So? I’m still pissed at you.”
He smiled. It was small, but a smile.
She let herself look at that smile for a second. Just a second. “I’m pissed at you because you crushed my heart when I was twenty.”
His smile faded.
“And I have no interest in letting you back in to cause more damage.”
He looked shocked. “Indy—”
She stepped back and scooped up her cup. “It’s ancient history, Griff. Let’s leave it there.”
He reached out for her. “No, I—”
“Griff?” Tane’s voice.
“We don’t have time for this,” she whispered furiously.
“We’ll make time.”
She hissed. “Didn’t you listen to me? Ancient history.”
His gray eyes narrowed. “If I stick my hand down your pants right now, I bet I’d find your panties are wet. That’s not ancient history.”
She sucked in a breath, reluctant heat curling in her belly.
“You want this,” he said. “You want me.”
“You didn’t want me ten years ago, or when I came to visit you in prison, or since we both ended up at Blue Mountain Base. Now, all of a sudden, you decide Indy will make a good roll in the sheets?”
His face darkened. “It isn’t like that.”
Her heart was pounding. Indy knew Griff was dangerous. He was the one man who could really hurt her.
But she’d wised up a lot in the last decade. “I’ve got no room for you in my life. I like things just as they are. If my panties are wet, I can take care of that myself.”
He growled.
“Have a good mission, Griff.” She turned, lifted her chin, and stalked away.
Chapter Three
As the Hawk lifted off, Griff gave the straps on his chest armor a hard yank to tighten them. He snatched his carbine off his shoulder and checked it again.
“What’s up your ass?” Levi asked.
Griff’s squad mate sat in one of the nearby seats, his shaggy hair pulled up in a man bun and his carbine resting across his lap. He raised a brow.
“Nothing,” Griff said.
Levi made a sound of disbelief. “Sure.”
From beside him, Ash gave a slow nod. “Only one thing pisses a man off like that. A woman.”
Griff growled. He wasn’t getting into this with them. “Nothing is wrong.”
Tane shifted. He was standing and holding on to a grip above his head. His carbine was slung over his back, and he had his dreadlocks pulled back at the base of his neck today. “If you’re finished pissing off Griff, let’s go over the mission.”
The berserkers all shifted to focus on their leader. Hemi was sitting on a bench with his legs spread, chewing gum. Dom moved closer, sliding some of his favorite knives into his belt. They all fell silent.
“We’re going in to scout around the town again. We’ll break off in pairs.”
Everyone nodded.
“If there really are people there, like we suspect, I want them found,” Tane added.
Griff scowled. “They’re hiding something.”
Hemi raised his eyebrows. “You think it’s the octagon?”
Griff felt that bad feeling creep over him again. Whenever he thought about that damn octagon, he felt an impending sense of doom. It was looming over all their heads.
“Don’t know. Maybe,” Tane said. “Whatever it is, we’ll find it. Be ready.”
As the Hawk arrowed out over the green, rolling fields, its illusion system up, Griff’s thoughts tuned to Indy.
His gut churned. He’d never realized the extent of what she’d felt for him a decade ago. She’d only been twenty, a little wild, and with her life ahead of her. He’d been busy at the Academy and focused on becoming a cop. It hadn’t been the time for a serious relationship.
Shit, maybe he’d doubted the strength of her feelings. Thought she was just out for a good time.
He knew some assholes at the Enclave still thought that. They saw the attitude and tattoos, and thought Indy was nothing more than a good-time girl. He’d disabused a few of them of that notion by using his fists.
Clearly, she’d felt deeply for Griff back then. It had been more than a crush.
He released a breath. And now, maybe it was too late. She had her walls up with No Trespassing signs plastered all over them.
He shook his head slightly. Never too late. She could fight all she wanted. If there was one thing Griff was good at, it was fighting until he got what he was after. Prison had taught him to keep moving forward, one step at a time, and survive to fight another day.
He swung his carbine back over his shoulder. He was dogged—had been as a detective, and while surviving prison.
He’d prove to her that they could have something good. Whatever it took.
Griff rubbed a hand over his face. God, he was tired. He hadn’t slept well. His dreams had been haunted by images of Indy bending over that damn pool table.
Indy’s voice filled Griff’s ear. “Comms check.”
All the team checked in.
“Okay, go find some sneaky survivors, and don’t let any aliens take a bite out of you,” she added.
Griff looked out at the blue sky. Summer had reluctantly given way to let the cooler weather take over. Here and there, some of the trees were starting to lose their leaves.
Soon, the town of Berrima came into view, and he peered through the side window. There was no sign of movement among the dilapidated buildings. He saw the old highway that had run past the town, and the distinctive square outline of the old gaol. His lip curled. He had no desire to go near a prison, even if it was hundreds of years old.
The Hawk lowered, hovering above the street in the center of town.
“Good luck,” their Hawk pilot, Thom, called out.
Griff leaped off, bending his knees as his boots hit. He lifted his head and scanned the surroundings. The rest of his squad fanned out around him.
The street was silent.
He stared at a row of shops with smashed windows. Leaves and debris were plastered against the walls and covered the pavement in dirty patches. In some places, paint was peeling, and in others the shops looked almost pristine. Like customers might step inside at any moment.
So much had been destroyed and the world would never be the same. Never be what they’d lived before the apocalypse.
But Griff was starting to realize that there was still life. Life didn’t care what happened, who you lost, or who lived and died. It still marched on relentlessly. And under the crap, there was still love and happiness. There was still pleasure and pain.
Griff thought of Indy’s smile, his squad sharing jokes and laughs, the chatter of conversation between survivors in the rec room, the squeal of kids he saw running down the Enclave’s corridors.
After prison, life had been gray for him. He hadn’t given a fuck about anything. He’d escaped, picked up a carbine, and attempted not to drown in his anger. But now, he felt like he was coming out of a dream. The icy, cynical lump in his chest was thawing.
“Break off,” Tane said. “Report in if you see anything.”
Tane and Hemi moved toward the houses. Ash and Levi disappeared down a side street toward the gaol.
Dom and Griff peered into the shop windows.
“Nothing here,” Dom said.
Yeah. As Griff walked down the street, he glanced down a road heading out of town. Green fields lay in the distance. Where are you hiding?
For the next hour, the squad searched the streets and buildings. Griff and Dom looked through dusty basements and sagging attics.
Nothing.
But as they headed back toward the center of town, once again, Griff looked up toward the fields on the edge of town. Som
ething was…off about them.
He jerked his head at Dom. “Want to take a closer look over that way.”
Dom lifted his chin. “You think the survivors are hiding in the trees?”
“Would keep them safe from the raptors.” They all knew that the raptors reacted badly to something from the trees and steered clear.
Dom grunted. “Still lots of alien nasties breeding around here.”
The Gizzida loved playing with the DNA of the local animals and splicing in their own. They’d seen mutated bugs, cats and dogs, native wildlife.
“There’s something about that hill there.” Griff stared at the hill in the center of the field. Several trees were clustered on top of it.
They climbed over a dilapidated fence.
As they got closer, Griff’s gut tightened. “Shit.”
“Griff?” Tane’s voice. “Report.”
“I worked vice for a while. Went on a few busts in the mountains, and found crops hidden under camouflage nets.”
Dom’s frown deepened. “Okay.”
Griff moved through the long grass and stabbed a finger toward the top of the hill. “Looked just like that.”
Dom stared, then his dark eyes widened. “I see it. That patch is a different color.”
“Check it out,” Tane ordered.
They broke into a jog and reached the spot. Dark-green webbing covered a large area. Griff gripped one corner and ripped it back.
Dom sucked in a breath. Healthy vegetable plants were growing, thick and green. There were multiple rows of them.
“Take a look around.” Griff moved through the plants.
“So, someone’s growing crops here,” Dom said. “Big deal. Just food for some scared survivors.”
Griff nodded and crested the hill. There were three or four more areas covered with camouflage. The area closest to him had plants as tall as he was. He set one hand on his hip, staring thoughtfully.
Then he spotted some footprints along the edge of the crops. Definitely human. He circled a tree and came to a halt.
“Fuck.”
Dom moved up beside him. “Merda.”
Griff touched his ear. “Tane, you need to come and see this.”
“On our way.”
Dom crouched down, pressing a finger to the much larger footprints beside the human ones. There were several that looked like they’d been made by very large boots, and some that looked like reptile claw marks.
Gizzida.
Griff stared at them. The alien prints were mixed in with the human ones. There was no indication that anyone had been running or panicking.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Dom muttered.
Suddenly, Griff heard a noise in the crops. He whipped his head around, and caught a glimpse of something moving through the greenery.
He quickly pulled his carbine off of his shoulder, whipping it up. “Alien.”
Dom eased his weapon up, staring intently. They both tracked their carbines through the green vegetable plants.
“What was it?” Dom said.
“Didn’t see it clearly.”
Another movement through the grass. A glimpse of scales. “There!”
Suddenly, a screech filled the air. A velox burst out of the crops. A big one.
The smart, cunning ambush predator had a powerful body, with a long tail for balance. It was covered in feathers, had a mouth full of sharp teeth, and a huge, sickle-shaped claw on each hind foot. Griff and Dom opened fire, walking backward.
He heard shouts, and saw the rest of the berserkers running up the hill toward them.
With a burst of movement, a second velox leaped out of the crops. It was close to Tane, and pounced on the man.
The rest of his team rushed to help him. Tane dodged the velox’s deadly back claws, yanked out his combat knife, and leaped on the creature.
Another screech jerked Griff’s attention back to his velox.
“Keep firing,” Dom yelled.
Griff kept his finger depressed. He aimed the fire at the velox’s mouth. Its body jerked and it shook its head. It staggered to the side.
“It’s almost down,” Dom said.
It staggered again. Damn thing was covered in laser scorches, but was still on its feet. These things were damn hard to kill.
It darted forward, and Griff and Dom both backed up.
Suddenly, Griff felt the ground beneath his feet give way. “What the fuck?”
“Cazzo!”
Griff dropped down a narrow, vertical tunnel. He flung his arms and legs out, trying to stop his fall. His boots and gloves carved through the dirt walls.
He glanced down, and there was just enough light for him to see the spikes sticking up at the bottom of the shaft.
Fuck.
Gritting his teeth, he gripped the sides of the tunnel harder, desperately trying to slow his fall.
A clump of dirt hit his face, bits falling in his mouth, and he spat them out.
The spikes rushed closer.
* * *
Her team was under fire.
Indy clenched her teeth, listening to the shouts and the carbine fire. This was the worst part of being a comms officer. Sitting here and listening. Not knowing what was going on, who was hurt, who was still alive. She drummed her fingers on the desk.
“Fuck!” Hemi’s deep voice. “Griff and Dom just fell down some holes.”
“Get that velox down,” Tane growled.
Fallen down a hole? Indy’s heart, already hammering hard, kicked up another notch threatening to burst out of her chest. She gripped the edge of her desk.
“There are traps in the ground,” Ash yelled. “Watch out.”
A wild screech came through the comm line. Shaking herself from her stupor, Indy tapped the screen, pulling up the feed from Tane’s helmet.
Instantly, images appeared. In the center, the nasty alien was racing toward the squad.
She instantly recognized the distinctive, powerful body of the velox. It looked a lot like a velociraptor. There was another dead velox near the top of the hill.
There was no sign of Griff or Dom.
Griff. Damn him. Where was he?
“Griff, you copy?” she asked into a headset.
Nothing.
“Dom?”
“I’m here. Stuck down a damn hole.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, stopped just short of falling on a bunch of spikes. Looks like some old-fashioned hunting trap.”
Spikes? Oh, God. Griff wasn’t answering.
“Griff? Griff!” Her head filled with horrible images of his gorgeous body, injured and bleeding.
She was a confused mass of fear and anger. How dare he make her care about him when she didn’t want to? Still, no matter what, she didn’t want him hurt or dead.
Like she always did when she got scared, she let her anger take over. “Griff Callan, you answer me right now, or I’ll—”
“I’m here.” His voice was tight.
The air rushed out of Indy. She leaned forward. “You okay?”
“Yeah. One leg hurt. Didn’t quite avoid the spikes in time.”
He sounded okay, but his tense voice warned her it might be worse than he was letting on. “How bad?”
“It’s fine.”
Shit, he wasn’t fine. She knew these alpha-male berserkers. She tapped on the comp screen and sent a message to the infirmary. She’d have Doc Emerson on standby for when they got back.
“Dom and Griff, sit tight.” She watched on screen as Tane leaped into the air, aiming his carbine down and tearing into the final velox. “The others almost have the final velox contained.”
“Acknowledged,” Dom said.
There was no answer from Griff.
Her mouth went dry. “Griff?”
“Yeah. Got it.” His voice sounded muffled.
She glanced at the second display. His tracker was moving. She frowned. “Griff, I show you as moving? What’s going on?”
�
��There’s a side tunnel down here.”
Indy tapped her nails on the desk. “A tunnel?”
The tracker kept moving.
“Griff, you need to stay off that leg.”
“It’s fine.”
“Right,” she snapped. “You’re probably bleeding to death.”
“It’s just a bit of blood.”
She hissed. Stubborn idiot.
Then his swift intake of breath came across the line. “Fuck.”
The tone of his voice, and the way he drew the word out, told her it was bad. “Griff?”
“Tell Tane to get down here. ASAP.”
Her pulse jumped. “What? What did you find?
“Something fucked up.”
Chapter Four
Griff clenched his teeth, pushing through the pain. As the Hawk lowered down into the Enclave, he let out a breath. He heard the drone of sirens and the clank of the retractable doors.
Shit, his leg was throbbing like hell. He was covered in dirt, sweat, and blood. And he was now the proud owner of a nasty hole through his left thigh.
Thankfully, the alien spike hadn’t hit an artery. Ash had bound him up, and it looked like the bleeding was slowing.
His thoughts churned, centered on what he’d seen down the tunnel.
Chains. A row of fucking chains, spaced too closely together to be for imprisoned aliens.
They’d been for humans. And there had been bloodstains on the floor.
All the berserkers were quiet. Usually when they came back in from a mission, they were cracking jokes and generally being smartasses to blow off steam. But now, the atmosphere in the Hawk was tense.
Tane had taken pictures. Of the chains, and what they’d found on the ground beside them. Broken black glass.
Exactly like the glass that made the alien data cubes. Just like the glass that made the alien octagon weapon.
What the fuck were the people in that town doing with the aliens?
The quadcopter’s skids touched down with a small bump. Damn, Griff wanted a beer and a shower. In prison, he’d dreamed of beers and long, hot showers a lot. In the supermax, taking a shower had been like running a gauntlet. Lots of fights. Lots of inmates out to take down the man responsible for putting them or their friends behind bars.
Griff: Hell Squad #17 Page 3
