Dead World 3, page 26
Michael flinched and his dark eyes squinted. “As you can see, I’m better now,” he said.
Morgan stared at him, searching for any sign to contradict his words. He looked like the old Michael, albeit a little sunburned, but he couldn’t forget those screams or Roark’s glee. They’d address his concerns later. First he had to find out what had happened.
“Gina, honey, calm down and tell me what’s going on.” Morgan pulled her back until he could look in her face. Her eyes were red and filled with unshed tears.
“I heard from the Eye of God before I left the outpost.” She sniffled. “But he couldn’t hear me.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Morgan brushed her hair away from her wet cheeks. What he’d found in Kane’s audio journals was far more damaging to Roark Montgomery than anything the Eye of God could’ve located.
“I was about to sign off when he said there’d been a worldwide announcement made. He said—” she choked. “He said Robert Santiago, leader of the International Police Tactical Team, had been kidnapped. Roark is blaming us for his disappearance. He has him, Morgan. The bastard has my grandfather.”
Morgan’s gaze burned through Michael. “Is this true?” he asked.
Michael scowled. “How should I know? I’ve been in no-man’s-land for several days. The last few with Raphael and Catherine.”
Morgan looked at Raphael, who gave him a curt nod, confirming Michael’s story. “Roark has fooled us before. Maybe he’s at it again,” Morgan said.
Gina rubbed her face with the back of her hand. “Do you think so?”
“Only one way to find out.” Morgan looked at Michael. “I’m sure Roark sent a communications device with you. Get on it and find out if this latest transmission is true or just another ploy to draw us out of hiding.”
Michael pulled out a navcom. “This may take awhile. We’re not exactly close by.”
Morgan’s ears perked at the sound of engines roaring to life. “Save it until we get back to the outpost.”
Gina raised her head. “What about her?”
Morgan turned to the woman standing a few feet away. He’d forgotten all about Melea. The woman’s dark skin was pale and her eyes looked too big for her face. Her cheeks were hollowed from the horrors she’d experienced at the hands of the Sand Devils. She trembled and Morgan could smell her fear. It burned his nostrils, making him sick.
“Don’t worry, we won’t harm you,” he said.
“She killed Demery,” Melea said, her voice barely above a whisper. “He would’ve died from the wounds she inflicted, even if Reaper hadn’t finished the job.”
“I’d planned to kill him. She just got to him before I could,” Morgan said.
Melea wrung her hands. “He was only trying to help me,” she said, barely holding herself together.
“Had he asked, we would’ve gladly assisted him, but he chose to betray us. That is something we cannot tolerate. Even when it’s done for the right reasons,” he said. “I hope someday you’ll understand.”
Tears streaked down her cheeks and she shook her head, slowly backing away. Her fearful gaze remained locked on Gina.
“You have a choice. You can either go back to the Sand Devils or you can come with us. But if you come with us, know that we will not tolerate betrayal. Take Demery’s death as a warning.” Morgan was being extremely harsh on the woman given what she’d been through, but he had little choice.
Roark had just upped the stakes exponentially. They didn’t need any more surprises. He headed north toward the outpost. Morgan kept his arm around Gina and didn’t bother to see if anyone followed. They would. What other option did they have?
“I will come with you,” Melea called out, her voice desperate.
“Smart choice.” Morgan hoped she wouldn’t regret her decision.
It was dark by the time they reached the outpost. No one had said much on the slow walk back and for that Red was grateful. She hadn’t been in the mood to talk.
She couldn’t get the look on Demery’s face out of her mind. She’d seen the surprise, regret, and eventual acceptance of his impending death. The sadness lingered, haunting her.
Jonah was waiting when they arrived. The guards disarmed everyone before allowing them to enter. She could’ve told them it was pointless, but she didn’t bother. It made them feel like they were in control. There was no need to shatter that illusion.
“Glad to see you’re back in one piece. More or less,” he said. “Want to introduce me to your friends?”
“This is Raphael Vega, Michael Travers, Melea, and Catherine Meyers,” Red said by way of introduction. “Everyone, this is Jonah. He runs this outpost and has been kind enough to help us.”
He shook their hands and showed them to the spare rooms so they could freshen up.
“Let’s meet back here in...” Red glanced at her watch. “…forty-five minutes. You need to send that transmission and find out what’s going on,” she said to Michael.
Thirty minutes later Michael pressed several buttons on his navcom. His normally placid expression looked strained as he thumped the device a couple of times.
“What’s wrong?” Red asked.
“It must be the sand. It’s working intermittently.” He shook it.
“Can you hail Roark?” Red asked as the tension inside her returned.
She needed to know what was happening with her grandfather. Was Roark playing mind games or did he really have him? And if he did, what would she do? She had no problem exchanging her life for his, but would that be enough to appease Roark?
“This is Travers reporting in,” Michael said. “Do you read?”
Static filled the air.
“Home base, this is Travers. Please respond.”
More pops and crackles blasted the silence.
Red felt so helpless. What if he couldn’t reach Roark? She’d have no choice but to return to the Republic of Arizona and hope that was enough to garner his release.
“Travers, report,” Roark barked.
Red jumped in surprise. “Ask him.”
Michael nodded and held up a finger. “I’ve received a broadcast claiming the commander of IPTT has been kidnapped,” he said.
There was a pause.
For a moment Red thought they might have lost him.
Then Roark spoke. “Are you alone, Travers?”
Michael looked at Red, then at Morgan. They both nodded at him.
“No, sir,” he said. “That’s a negative.”
“Hello, Ms. Santiago. Mr. Hunter.” His smug voice grated on Red’s nerves. He was gloating. “I see you received the message I sent.”
She snatched the navcom from Michael’s grasp. “Cut the dung, Roark. Where’s my grandfather?”
Roark chuckled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Stop messing around,” she said.
“He volunteered to keep me company in your absence,” Roark said. “I had to ensure you’d comply to my demands.”
“What demands?” she asked.
A strained voice as familiar as her own came onto the line. “Gina? Is it really you?”
“It’s me, Grandpa,” Red said. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you out of there.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Roark said.
“Gina?” her grandfather repeated, sounding weaker. There was a scrape, then a loud moan.
“What have you done to him, Roark?” Red asked.
Roark chuckled. “Had to soften him up so he’d cooperate. Old fool actually thought he could come here and threaten me right before the election.”
Threaten him with what?
Red brought the navcom to her mouth. “Grandpa, can you hear me?” He had to hear her. He had to know she was coming for him. Had to know how much she loved him. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t worr—”
“Save it,” Roark said. “Speed won’t matter. I haven’t forgotten what you did to me in that cell.”
Fear’s cold fingers enveloped her. There was some shuffling, then Red heard the hum of a laser pistol as it charged. “Roark, what are you doing?”
“What I should’ve done a long time ago,” he said.
A shot rang out over the connection. The sound was followed by a frightened male shriek and a loud thud as something hit the floor. They heard a gasp, then a sickening gurgle.
“Help—”
There was another shot, then silence.
For one painful moment Red thought her heart had exploded in her chest. She gasped and forced air into her lungs. Her fingers trembled as she shook the navcom.
“Grandpa? Grandpa? Answer me this second!” she shouted. “Roark! What have you done?”
“Sorry, the commander is permanently indisposed.” Roark chuckled.
Red crumpled to the floor.
“One problem down, two to go,” Roark said. “Come back so we can finish this once and for all.”
This would never have happened if she’d stayed in the Republic of Arizona. She’d been selfish to run. Hadn’t thought about what would happen to the ones they left behind.
Red choked back her tears until an eerie calm replaced the pain. “I’ll kill you for this,” she vowed, clutching the navcom.
“Save your breath,” Roark said. “You’ll need it for your defense. That is if you make it back to the republics alive.”
She cursed loudly, clutching the navcom. It did little to alleviate the pain coursing through her. The sheer agony of losing the last member of her family made it feel like she was being ripped in half.
Red didn’t know how she’d survive or if she’d survive. A piece of her heart had shattered as the second shot was fired. Her limbs went numb and her mind retreated to a safer place. She clasped her hands around her knees and rocked back and forth, seeking comfort where there was none.
“You’ve lost, Roark. You just don’t know it yet.” Morgan pulled Red close. “We now have the proof to destroy you. One tiny broadcast and your political career is over.” He leaned into the navcom. “In the end, you may get your proof that the Others exist, but we’re going to take you down with us.”
“You’ll never get the message out,” Roark said, but his voice wavered a bit. “I’ve made sure of it.”
“We’ll see about that,” Morgan said.
Red glared at the navcom. “You just shot your only bargaining chip.”
“Travers?” Roark barked.
“Yes, sir,” Michael said.
“Remember your duty,” Roark said. “Here’s a reminder in case you forgot.”
Michael screamed and fell to the floor, clutching his head, writhing in pain. “Make it stop. Please make it stop!”
“Finish your job and I will.”
Red tossed the navcom against the wall, cutting off Roark’s transmission. Michael’s pain had temporarily jerked her out of the shock that had set in. She’d done the first thing she could think of to kill the signal.
Michael stopped thrashing, his breath coming in deep gasps.
“How is the chip in his head doing that?” Red asked.
“I don’t know,” Morgan said. “I’ve never heard of a chip that could do that to a man.”
She frowned. “Can we scan him to assess the damage?” Red asked.
Raphael lifted the device. “I think you broke the navcom when you threw it.”
Red ran a trembling hand through her hair, “I didn’t know what else to do. I was afraid Roark was going to kill him.”
“I might be able to get the navcom working again,” Morgan said. “Give me awhile. In the meantime, get him into a bunk. Try to make him comfortable.”
Michael struggled to his feet. “I’m all right,” he said. He blinked to clear the shadow people from his vision, but they refused to leave.
He blinked again, this time keeping his eyes shut for a few seconds longer. Michael cracked one lid and saw a gray shadow race across his line of vision. He opened his other eye. He wasn’t alone.
The shadows stood like sentries, waiting. For what, he did not know. They’d always been quick to dart out of the way, but not anymore.
“On second thought.” He swayed. “A short rest might do me some good.”
Michael allowed Raphael to help him down the hall. His brother’s face was pinched with worry, but he said nothing. What was there to say?
Michael glanced over his shoulder as he entered the area that housed numerous bunks. The shadows waited, their ghastly faces filled with glee.
“What happened back there?” Raphael asked.
He tried to shrug, but couldn’t. “It was just Roark sending a reminder of who’s in charge,” he said.
Raphael grabbed his hand. “We’ll figure out a way to fix this.”
Michael smiled. “You worry too much, brother.”
“Somebody has to be concerned.” Raphael’s voice to cracked. “Now get some rest.” He pulled the blanket up.
Michael’s chest clenched. “I will,” he lied.
Chapter 32
Morgan stared at the broken navcom, unable to focus. He couldn’t get Gina’s cries out of his mind. Her tears had scorched his soul and no amount of shifting to his wolf form would repair it.
The calm she’d shown after listening to her grandfather’s murder had been worst of all. She’d shut down before his eyes as if someone had flipped a switch.
He still didn’t understand how Montgomery had gotten the drop on Robert Santiago, but there was no denying what they’d heard. Someone had died at Roark’s hand. Someone who sounded exactly like the commander.
Roark would die for his multitude of sins. Determined, Morgan examined the device. If he could manage to fix it, they might be able to broadcast in time to change the course of the election.
He thought about the recording sitting next to him. If he sent out Kane’s message, there would be no hiding for the Others. Questions would be asked. Answers would be sought. This journey wasn’t just about him and Gina anymore. Something far greater was at stake.
Could Morgan risk the lives of the people of Nuria and the Others around the world for revenge and their freedom?
Freedom—what a joke. He and the Others had been living in self-imposed exile from the rest of society for decades.
Morgan had spent so many years in hiding that he wasn’t sure if he could live out in the open. And what if the same people who’d hunted them down before tried to come after them again?
The men behind the experiments were dead, but their successors were still around, watching, waiting for the Others to pop their heads up so they could blow them off their shoulders.
He thought about the Nurian trainees. The Other tactical team was nowhere near ready for that kind of altercation. With Demery’s death, they’d lost one of the most promising cadets.
His mate mourned the vamp’s passing. She hid her pain well, but he’d still noticed. It was his fault he was dead. They should’ve never left Demery behind.
Morgan took out the tools Jonah had loaned him and pulled off the back of the navcom. It didn’t look good. In fact, it looked like a mess—thanks to Gina’s impromptu rage.
He moved a few wires to get to the crystal keyboard that fueled it. At least the crystal was still intact, which was something. Morgan set the tools down on the table.
He brushed a hand over his chest and winced. He was still tender from the stun blast and the knife wounds, but thanks to a quick shift they had stopped bleeding and sealed tight. By tomorrow, the discomfort would be gone. In a week, it would look as if nothing had occurred.
He fiddled with the navcom. Everything was about to change. Morgan hoped the Nurians would forgive him.
Red came upon Melea standing in the giant greenhouse. “Amazing, isn’t it?”
The woman jumped in surprise. “I’m sorry. I didn’t...” Her gaze roamed the room for another exit, but she quickly realized that Red blocked the only one.
“It’s okay. I like it in here, too. It’s a good place to think,” Red said. “Especially now.”
The woman nodded, but didn’t relax.
Red looked at her. “Can I ask you a question?”
Melea nodded for her to go ahead.
“Why did Demery call you his blood? I know you weren’t his mate. If you had been, he would’ve challenged Reaper long ago.”
The woman gave her a sad smile. “I reminded him of his little sister. The fact that I had her name helped. Obviously he didn’t treat me as such, but he did look after me, or at least tried to. Demery was a good man, but he had his faults.” Melea shrugged. “I loved him like a brother, but he gambled. And when he lost...” her voice trailed off.
“He lost you to the Sand Devils?” Red asked, trying to imagine the woman’s terror. She shuddered at the thought.
Melea nodded, then quickly looked away. “He didn’t mean to, but Demery learned the hard way that you can’t beat Reaper. He promised to return to get me and he did, even if his rescue was cut short.” Her voice turned bitter.
“If he viewed you as his little sister, how did you come to be his blood?” Red asked, steering the conversation away.
The woman laughed, but there was no amusement in her soft voice. “It was an accident. Demery had a little bit too much to drink one night. Thought it’d be funny to see me swallow his blood. I’d been traveling with him for a while, so I didn’t think much of the first exchange. Or the one that followed. It wasn’t until Reaper forced me to...that Demery found out it could also harm him. I think that’s why he ran and left me.”
Red thought about Raphael. Could he feel her pain now that she’d tasted him? And what of Morgan? Raphael had fed him his blood to save his life.
“How much blood did you drink?” Red asked.
“Several mouthfuls. I ended up vomiting,” Melea said.
Maybe the amount mattered. She’d have to ask. “I’m sorry things turned out the way they have,” Red said. “You probably won’t believe me, but I really liked Demery. I don’t take my part in his death lightly.”
“You kept your promise to him.” Melea sounded surprised. “Why?”
Red couldn’t blame Melea for being surprised. Everyone in her life had either lied or used her. Most did both. “Because he asked.”
