The Tide: Deadrise (17 page)

“Don’t know.” She shifted her gaze to the guards and then back to Terrence, trying to make her assessment of Terrence’s health appear routine and innocuous. The former Ranger hadn’t been scratched by any Skulls as far as she’d been told. He’d suffered burns from the Drooler, but that was it. Could a trace amount of the Oni Agent survive the intensely acidic environment of the Drooler’s spray? Could the burns have provided another route of transmission? She certainly hoped not. Hydrochloric acid was strong enough to destroy most normal viruses and bacteria. But the nanobacteria in the Oni Agent
weren’t
normal. “I’m going to give you a couple of shots, and you should be all clear.”

“Even if—”

“Yes, even if this turns out to be the worst-case scenario.” She gave Terrence a tight smile.

Lauren moved to a cabinet where she’d stored a few doses of chelation therapies. She didn’t want to outright mention the possibility of an Oni Agent infection; she didn’t trust the paranoid guards not to overreact and do something rash. And the last thing she needed was more attention. She patted her pocket to ensure the object Samantha had given her was safely stowed and then returned to Terrence’s side with a syringe. She inserted the needle into a bulging vessel in his arm and administered the treatment. After placing a small bandage over it, she rummaged through a cabinet and took out a pill container. “Take two of these in about six hours, then another one every twelve hours until the bottle is empty. You should be back to normal in a couple of days.”

“Minus the burns,” he said.

“Minus the burns,” Lauren agreed. The guards reached for him, preparing to escort Terrence back to the brig, but Smith held up his hand.

“Hold up a second.” Smith gestured for the Hunter’s escort to keep him in place and then turned to Lauren. “What exactly did you just treat him for?”

“A possible infection,” Lauren said as matter-of-factly as she could. “I suspect his burns—”

“I don’t buy it,” Smith said. “I’m no doctor, but you take pills for antibiotics. Why do you need to give the man a shot?”

“Well, there are plenty of antibiotics in pill form,” Lauren said. “But I didn’t want to take any chances so I gave him ceftriaxone. It’s usually administered intravenously and has broad-spectrum activity, which means it’ll help knock out whatever bacteria might be floating around in Terrence.”

“Okay,” Smith said. Lauren could see the gears in his head turning and prayed her answers had satisfied him. “This man’s seen some action against those Skulls, right?” Smith gestured to the extensive dressings. “Doesn’t look like he just tripped and hurt himself.”

Lauren said nothing. She waited to see where Smith was going with this.

“And you told me you all had a way to stop this Oni Agent before it took over your body.” Smith paced closer to Lauren and narrowed his eyes. “So if I were a gambling man, I’d be willing to bet you just loaded him up with your secret serum. And if I check that vial where you got the medicine from, it wouldn’t be antibiotics, would it?”

Lauren’s eyes darted from the guards’ weapons to Terrence and finally back to Smith’s too-clever gaze.

“From what I’ve seen, you’re a decent medic, but I don’t want some guy like this stuck in the brig with everyone else. If he Skulled-out on us, that’d be an awful mess to clean up,” Smith said. “Throw the guy in the Isolation Ward.”

The military escort opened the hatch to the ward and shoved Terrence inside. The hatch slammed shut again with a terrible clang. Lauren mouthed an apology to him through the acrylic window. Terrence shrugged and claimed one of the open beds between Ivan and Scott. A hand grabbed Lauren’s shoulder roughly and pulled her back around.

“I told you not to pull any funny business,” Smith said. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice...” He let the words hang in the air and gave her a meaningful, serious look.

“I wasn’t trying to—”

“Back to the lab,” Smith said. “And get to work. I’ll be watching.”

Lauren stepped through the hatch to join Divya, Sean, and Peter. Each was toiling over lab benches as they examined specimens on microscope slides or pipetted solutions between vials. She felt the guards’ eyes hot on the back of her neck. They’d be observing her every step now, but the object in her pocket was feeling heavier by the minute.

***

D
om found it difficult to concentrate on stealth knowing his daughters’ lives might be in danger. He crashed through the foliage with the others hot on his heels. They needed to get to Mt. Vernon fast. Any lone Skulls they ran into on their trek along the river went down with a barrage of bullets or swift knife strikes.

Adam’s warning had been both ominous and short. All attempts to hail him again had gone unanswered.

A burst of static came over the comm link. Dom held up a fist, and the Hunters slowed. “Adam, is that you? This is Dom, do you read?”

More static.

“Adam, do you read?”

A voice crackled, weak and winded. “Dad, it’s me.” Kara sounded frightened.

His heart pounded. “What’s wrong?”

“These men. They murdered Adam. They’re going to kill the rest of us.”

Anger and dread flowed through Dom. He’d lost crew members to the Skulls, but to other
humans
? Dom had worked so hard to deliver his daughters from harm. He’d be damned if some marauding group of assholes harmed a hair on their heads. “Are you and Sadie okay?”

“Hurt, but we’re alive,” Kara said shakily. “We—”

“Listen up,” a new voice said. “This ain’t no time for a chat. You want to see your daughters and that jihadi boy, you gotta pay the tax.”

“Who the fuck is this?” Dom asked, his voice quaking with unrestrained anger. The Hunters shot worried looks between each other.

“Someone who wants to talk. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re real. Guess this A-rab was telling the truth.”

“I’m losing my patience,” Dom said. “What do you want?”

“You have weapons and ammo. We want ’em. You give us what we want, we might let the girls live. Hell, maybe even the boy.”

“You already killed one of my men, asshole. How do I know we can we trust you?”

“You absolutely don’t.” The man laughed. “And that’s the beauty of it. You don’t know me. You don’t know my people. So it’s up to you if you want to take the risk, sure. You wait around too long, these pretty little girls of yours are gonna be dead long before you find their bodies.”

Dom was silent for a moment, scanning the faces of his Hunters. Meredith seemed the most composed, but he knew her calm façade hid a racing mind and a fierce heart. Right now, she’d be working through a dozen different plans to get his daughters and Navid back—and get revenge for Adam’s death. It was that kind of careful analysis and thinking that he admired in her. “Fine. You’ll get everything we’ve got. How do you want to do this?”

The man explained how he wanted to make the trade. He gave Dom little room for bargaining. “Be here in one and a half hours. If you’re late, your daughters die.” Silence for a beat. “Actually, they won’t be dead. But you’ll wish they were.”

The comm link line fizzled into static.

“We’re not seriously going to negotiate with them, are we, Chief?” Miguel asked. “I get that we didn’t kill Kinsey’s men because they were just following orders. But these people...”

“They killed Adam,” Jenna said with a snarl.

“I want to smash some fucking skulls,” Glenn said, “and I’m not talking about the Oni Agent kind.”

“I second that,” Renee said. “I think Kinsey’s men thought they were acting in the right. I’d probably think the same thing if I were them. But these guys sound like monsters.”

Dom battled with the emotional turmoil raging in his head. Intense, fiery rage warred with debilitating, freezing fear. He wholeheartedly agreed with the other Hunters, but he wouldn’t rush into anything without a proper plan.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Dom said. “We’ll give them a chance. Just one chance to walk away from all this. And if that doesn’t work...well, we’ve never negotiated with terrorists, so I see no reason to start now.”

––––––––

S
hepherd leapt out of the rusty fishing boat onto the dock. The Skulls had started to trawl through the trees and the yard behind the house. Several investigated the dog, but to Shepherd’s surprise, they left it alone. A Skull nudged one of the recently turned family members’ bodies, but moved on as soon as it saw the creature was a fellow Skull. They scoured the lawn, slowly making their way to the riverbank.

“I don’t see any fuel cans, and we don’t have time to look,” Shepherd said, gesturing to the boat’s useless motor. The sailboat on the trailer now drew his interest. “They taught you to sail at the Academy, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Rachel said.

“We have one chance at this,” Shepherd said. “You two jump in and prep it for sail. I’ll get it moving and then load up myself. Got it?”

“Might as well try,” Rory said.

As quietly as he could, Shepherd led them down the dock toward the lawn. He directed Rachel and Rory to take the chucks from beneath the wheels. Once he gave the signal, they climbed into the boat. He slipped into the driver’s seat of the SUV and inserted the key into the ignition, taking a long breath. This was it. He twisted the key, and the starter ground unhealthily. A few Skulls twisted, their heads cocked and their eyes gazing over the SUV.

“Come on, you piece of junk.”

He turned the key again. This time the SUV’s engine gurgled and thrummed. Skulls immediately turned and howled at the noise. Adrenaline surged through Shepherd as he slammed the SUV into reverse and pushed on the pedal.

The wheels of the trailer splashed into the water. Then the sailboat started to float, and Shepherd continued until the SUV too hit the waves. The boat came free just as Skull claws clicked across the concrete boat ramp. One of the Skulls scratched at the window, screaming as spittle sprayed across the glass in globs. Shepherd threw the door open with all his strength, knocking the monster backward. The Skull dropped into the water, and Shepherd sprinted to the stern of the boat, then shoved it to nudge the craft out. Waves kicked up around it, and the current turned it southwards. Rory ran to the tiller while Rachel unfurled the sails.

Footsteps sounded behind Shepherd. He spun in time to swing his rifle into a Skull’s face. A quick blast of the gun, and the monster fell. Another leapt at him. Shepherd shot it midair. Even though it was now dead, momentum carried the body toward him. He dodged the dead monster and fired into a few nearby Skulls. Rounds pinged off the armor of some, but enough found their mark to buy him some time. He dove into the river and swam for the sailboat.

His fingers traced the edge of the portside gunwale, but something grabbed his boot. The Skull was fighting the surging water, clinging desperately to Shepherd. His strength flagged as he struggled against both the river and the Skull. He started to lose his hold on the boat, but then a booming gunshot split the air. The Skull’s grip loosened, and Shepherd pulled himself into the craft with Rachel’s help. Rory put his rifle back down and manned the tiller.

“Thanks,” Shepherd said.

Wind caught the mainsail, and it billowed out. Rachel smiled. “Next stop, Kent Island. With wind like this, we’ll make it in no time.”

Skulls followed along the riverbanks for a while, but the sailboat soon outpaced them. It moved almost silently through the moonlit waves with no gurgling, noisy motor to announce their presence. Shepherd felt strangely peaceful as the cool breeze played over the deck. Birds sang as night turned to morning. Eventually, they reached the mouth of the river. Rory abruptly banked the boat, tacking against the wind to climb up the Chesapeake in the direction of Kent Island.

The mast of another sailing craft caught their attention. The other boat was anchored in the middle of the bay, and Shepherd directed Rory to bring them in close. As they drew nearer, Shepherd could see shreds of the sail thrashing in the wind. Bullet holes punctured the cabin, and several of the portholes sported spiderwebs of fractures. Rachel instinctively lifted her rifle, and Shepherd took out a pistol. He couldn’t leave a civilian stranded, but he also couldn’t afford to let down his guard.

“Anyone aboard?” Shepherd called. He waited for the telltale howls or scratching of a Skull. But he was pleasantly surprised when he heard a human voice.

“Yes, yes, I am!” A man came up from the cabin. He had a washcloth haphazardly tied around his biceps. It was soaked with blood. A ragged beard graced his face, and a rotten odor drifted from the cabin’s interior. He carried an ax in his arms. Then he saw the guns and dropped his ax. It clanged on the deck, and he held out his hands, open-palmed, in a gesture of surrender.

“I don’t have anything left.” His eyes shifted left, then right. “Well, a little food, but please, I’m begging you. Let me keep it.” He appeared on the verge of breaking down.

Shepherd lowered his pistol and nodded to Rachel for her to do the same. “We’re not here to take anything. Are you alone?”

“Just me now,” the man said. In his eyes, Shepherd saw a flicker of a forlorn expression, but then the man continued. “I took the boat to escape from some assholes raiding my neighbors. They went door to door. I watched them from my bedroom. Wanted to stay put, but I couldn’t.” He apparently had not noticed that Shepherd hadn’t asked for his story, and he didn’t seem to care. “Wife had already turned. Son was off at college in Colorado. Haven’t heard from him since a phone call right at the beginning. Said the University was quarantining everyone there. Keeping ‘em safe. I doubt it.”

The man seemed half-delirious. “Listen,” Shepherd said. “We’re headed to a safe zone. An island protected by former lawmen and even a few folks from the armed forces.”

“Military? No, no, no.” The man waved them off. He pointed to his sail, then the bullet holes in his boat. “Military did this to me.” He patted his injured arm. “Worried about infection. Told me to sail away. I didn’t think they’d actually shoot. Do I look like one of those things? No. Can’t trust anyone now. No one.”