Break of the Six (The Preston Six Book 4) (14 page)

“What the hell was that about?” Lucas asked.

“I don’t know. I
do
know this whole world just got a million times more dangerous. I should have been more careful. I should have known he’d bring part of her here.”

“I thought I’d be rid of her,” Lucas said.

“It’s a small version of her former self. A whisper of what Alice was. You aren’t facing what you faced in Vanar. But that doesn’t mean we can ignore her either. With her in the systems and around the internet . . . it’s going to be tough to mask our movements.”

Lucas huffed and gripped both hands on the steering wheel, veering around a smoking car.

“I think we need help,” Poly said.

“I agree and the first thing we need to do is,” Julie held the ZRB cure up, “take this to Vanar and see if Harris can tell us what’s different.”

AN ARRACK WITH A LAYERED necklace draping around its neck, stepped toward Hank and sniffed the air. “You’re one of them. The Six.” It hissed. “What are you doing here? Were you with them?” He pointed to the dead soldiers.

“No, we came to stop them,” Hank said and looked at the floor. He didn’t like lying.

“You smell familiar, who are you?” The Arrack looked at Harris.

Harris opened his mouth when an Arrack near him spoke up. “This . . .” he smelled the air and reeled back, “this is Harris Boone.”

Hank closed his eyes and shook his head. The Arrack’s cried out and rushed toward Harris.

“No!” The Arrack with the ornate necklace raised his sword. The horde stopped but sneered.

Hank watched Harris’s hand twitching. He knew he wanted to pull his guns out and take out a dozen Arracks before they’d overwhelm him. Harris’s unblinking, calculating stare took in each scowling face and Hank wondered if they had such an obvious advantage over him.

The head Arrack walked past Hank and close to Harris. “You are the human who tried to kill our entire species?” Spit flew from its mouth as it spoke. Its yellow eyes narrowed and it put a hand on its dagger.

“No, I had nothing to do with the letter.”

It turned its attention to Hank, but Hank kept his eyes on the ground. “I heard the Six delivered the message. Were you there? Did you help kill so many of us?”

Hank glanced at Harris who gave him the tiniest shake of his head. Hank looked back at the ground. He’d watched the cloud pour from the envelope and spill onto the table as the Arracks breathed it in, choking to their deaths. He took part in it and he knew it would haunt him for the rest of his life. “Yes, I was there, but only to deliver a message of peace.”

“
Peace
?” The thing hissed out between its sharp teeth. He spoke in his native tongue and the Arracks rumbled with a mixture of laughs and anger. “I would have prayed to Algo for five lifetimes just to get the luck of what has fallen in our hands today. We have the creator of the fog and the person who delivered it.”

“Let the boy go and I won’t give you any trouble,” Harris said.

“Harris, I’m not leaving you.”

“Neither of you are going anywhere! I didn’t believe it, but
he
thought there was a chance you’d come to one of our centers. We have been given specific directions.”

Hank stared at Harris when he felt the blade against his skin. He froze in place, nervous a single move would slice his own neck.

“Drop every weapon you have.” The Arrack jerked on the dagger against Hank’s neck.

Harris’s eyes twitched and he put his hand on his gun. He saw the process in his mind, counting the Arracks and calculating his chance of survival. Hank hoped he was part of that equation. Wincing, he waited for an onslaught of bullets.

Harris dropped his gun to the floor, one at a time, followed by several knifes.

“Shuk,” the Arrack with a necklace said.

They jumped on Harris and he fell to the ground. He disappeared under the pile and didn’t so much as raise a hand to his attackers. Hank moved to stop them from hitting him, then felt a hit on the back of his head. The world spun and pain shot through his skull. He turned and grabbed the Arrack before it could hit him a second time with the butt of its dagger. It didn’t weigh as much as he’d been expecting, was the last thought he had before they smothered him.

Receiving one more blow to the head, things became blurry.

Small silver hands restrained his body and lifted him up to his feet. They hauled him through a door, half carrying, half dragging him. Hank tried to pull away, but they had too many hands on him and the will had left his body. Looking up, he saw the long row of lights, illuminating the secret they were hiding below: Arracks were making the cure.

Arracks moved around, packaging the cure into cardboard boxes in an assembly line fashion. A few looked up from the line as he passed, but their faces swirled and his head pounded when he tried to focus on them. There had to be a thousand workers or more. How many cures did this place keep?

The factory view ended as they pushed him into a small room. They flopped his weak body onto a steel chair sitting in front of a steel pole rising into the ceiling. His arms were pulled behind his back and strapped to a pole. Moving to his feet, they tied them against the chair legs. He thought about the wheelchairs and the moment he’d seen his friends alive in that hospital hall. It had been a high point in his life. But here? No one even knew where he was. No one was going to save him.

He decided to face the Arracks eye to eye. The fluorescent lights above amplified his blurred vision, yet he saw the hate in their eyes as they circled around Harris. They were strapping him to a chair in front of him, tying him off to a metal sink at the edge of the room.

The Arracks left the room.

Hank’s head ached and he tried to keep himself from slumping forward. Harris didn’t appear to have the same control as his chin rested on his chest. His eyes were closed and blood dripped from his nose.

Hank sighed and stared at Harris’s profile. He kicked his chair and tried to get Harris’s attention. “Harris.”

He stirred and jolted upright, taking in his surroundings with fire in his eyes. After a moment, the strain set in and he glanced at Hank. “You all right?”

“Head hurts like hell, but yeah.”

The Arrack with the large necklace walked in the room. “He will be here soon.”

“Who?” Hank asked.

The Arracks chuckled and hissed out a laugh. “Zach.”

“Don’t you mean Marcus?”

The Arrack got close to Hank’s face. “I know who I mean, do you?” His breath reeked of decay, as if it hadn’t brushed its teeth in a year.

The thing moved away from Hank and leaned close to Harris, smelling his shirt and strands of hair dangling over his brow. It blew out from his nose, pushing Harris’s bangs back and leaving tiny droplets of moisture across his forehead. The creature then reared back and slapped Harris across the face. The sound cracked like a well-placed high five.

Harris reeled from the impact, his face quickly changing to rage. “Is that all you’ve got?” Spittle flew from his mouth and the veins in his neck and forehead bulged. Hank backed away from the display.

At the open door to the room stood another Arrack, waiting at the threshold and watching the display. The necklace Arrack motioned for the next Arrack. It jumped over to Harris, closed its fist and hit Harris in the face.

“Is that
all
?” Harris raged.

Another Arrack stood at the door and waited as the last one left. The necklace Arrack motioned for him to come in. It was quick to pull out its dagger.

“You don’t have the guts,” Harris said, glaring at its curved blade.

The creature struck Harris in the shoulder with it, slicing through his shirt and into the meaty part of his muscle.

Harris laughed and sucked in a quick burst of air and then spit blood all over the face of the Arrack with the dagger. It swung its dagger at Harris’s neck.

“Stop!” Necklace Arrack demanded. “He does not get a quick death, there are many in line behind you. We shall all get a turn.”

The Arrack pulled back its dagger and licked the blood off the blade.

“You’re still taking orders from him?” Harris yelled. “You should get the privilege of killing me. I killed your entire planet.” He laughed. “If you let me live, I’ll do it again.”

The Arracks grumbled as the necklace Arrack translated what he said.

Hank tried to look past the maniac sitting in front of him. He didn’t know this man. Harris was always cool under pressure, he wasn’t the type to crack. “Harris, what are you doing?” he whispered, as the murmuring of Arracks became a torrent of shouts and cries.

In between Arracks, Harris said, “I’ll keep them off you, best I can.”

Hank looked at the Arracks lining up in the room and out the window, where he could see the line reaching the far wall of the warehouse. The next Arrack punched Harris in the stomach and then started choking him until another Arrack pushed it out of the way.

Harris laughed and coughed. The man was taking it for him. “Bring on the next one!”

This one punched Harris in the face.

Hank, too horrified to watch, saw the feet shuffle forward and listened to the thumps and the crazy rants coming from Harris. Over time, the rants slowed and became weak, but the Arracks didn’t stop. A fresh Arrack followed the next, until he no longer heard a noise from Harris, only the soft thumps from punches and kicks.

“Stop it! You’re going to kill him,” Hank pleaded.

They ignored him.

Harris sat limp, and maybe he had already died and they were beating his dead body. Hank sucked in his lip and looked to the ceiling. He felt tears building and wished for somebody or something to help them. He struggled against his straps for the hundredth time, forcing them further into his wrists.

Harris’s ploy had been to draw all their hate to him and it seemed to work, but as the next Arrack slammed the butt of his dagger against Harris’s fingers, Hank knew they were not touching him for a reason. Marcus must have instructed them not to injure him. If Harris wanted this beating over what Marcus brought . . . Hank had more to worry about than being beaten within an inch of his life.

SAMANTHA LOOKED OVER THE TOP of her desk at the employees scurrying around in a panic over the total shutdown. The elevators didn’t work, the windows were blocked, the exits locked, and even her cell phone stopped working. The building had effectively shut itself off from the world.

Derek held out his gun and watched the glass door, expecting an intruder at any second. She might have told him to calm down, but she needed him on high alert. Something had gone terribly wrong after the White House meeting. Her heart raced as she thought about Zach’s situation.

“I think we should get you out of this area. It’s too hard to secure if there’s an attack.” Derek spared a second to give her a look of seriousness.

“No, not yet.” She glanced at the TV and the president had come on screen. She turned up the volume.

“America, I come to you at the most egregious of times. We are faced with the worst epidemic in the modern world. We are mourning our friends and relatives at an alarming rate.” He grasped his podium with both hands and stared into the camera. Samantha knew the look, he was pissed.

“But we are not without hope. A single company, a single man, has produced a cure and a vaccine. But the price he’s asked for compliance is too much for any American to bear in the long term. We have declared Zach Ryan Baker an enemy of the state for crimes against the United States of America. The employees of ZRB have until midnight, Pacific Standard Time, to clear from the buildings they work in and cut all ties with ZRB. Any failure to do so will result in criminal charges. We are in the process of confiscating all of ZRB’s cures to properly distribute them to the United States and the rest of the world—without conditions, without costs, without any reason, but it being the right thing to do.”

Samantha covered her open mouth as she stared at the screen, then she felt the small scar above her eye. Zach was a criminal now, an enemy of the state. Her own government had turned against them. All she and Zach wanted to do was cure the world. How could they be so cruel? The world needed the cure and they needed it
now
. Why was everyone trying to stop them from delivering it?

The screen flickered and Zach’s smiling face appeared on the screen. The grainy picture was up close and shook as if he was holding the camera out in front of himself.

“Hello, America.” He waved to the camera and showed his bright white teeth. “I’m the single man with the cure, the head of the single company creating it. What the President of the United States isn’t saying is who he is taking orders from. Not the American people, but a small group of men bound on stopping me at any cost in order to control this disease. But I haven’t and won’t let that happen, even on an erroneous presidential order. Even as I speak, these men are attacking my factories, not with US soldiers but with mercenaries. If this was about getting you the cure, then why attack the very factories making it? We were able to deter most of these attacks, but sadly some were lost. South Africa, Vietnam, and Australia, those were your shipments. They will be delayed because of your weakness in letting these men dictate your actions, Mr. President.

“We are at the edge of no return, but with this cure we have a way back—if we hurry. I ask the president, the men behind the president, and all other leaders to not impede my distribution of the cure. And to prove my intentions are only to get the cure to as many as possible, I am sending out teams of trucks to every major city in America over the next twenty-four hours.”

He leaned in closer to the camera. “America . . . if you don’t receive the cure, it is only a result of your president physically stopping my trucks. And just to keep everything real public, I have attached a web cam to every heavily-armed caravan. You can watch the trucks as they travel to each destination, and the live feeds will be available on our company’s website. Mr. President, do you really want to stop the cure from reaching your citizens? Let the trucks roll.”

Samantha breathed out, not realizing she had been holding her breath.

The screen went black.

“Zach just put it in the public’s hands,” Derek said. “The president will have a hell of a time trying to convince everyone now.”

Samantha had seen the papers, the schedules for the trucks. The trucks would be rolling out within the hour and the whole world would be watching to make sure they got there. Zach was a genius. She didn’t know how he’d hacked into the TV stream, but she couldn’t figure out half the things he accomplished.

In the next few days, the world would have the cure they were waiting for and the recovery could start. They could finally tell their story to the world and the president would have to pardon Zach and anyone involved with ZRB. How could they arrest them for saving the world? What jury would convict them?

The glass door pushed opened. Lisa stepped in and found herself staring at the end of Derek’s gun. She didn’t flinch and gave Derek a glare. “Really?” Lisa said and put her hand on her hip. Derek lowered his gun and took a step back. “Thank you.” She walked toward Samantha.

“What is it, Lisa?”

“They’re kind of going crazy out there. Many want to leave, but the doors are locked. I think you have the only access to open them.” Lisa let the unasked question hang in the air.

“We are just about to send out shipments across the whole world and they want to leave?” Samantha felt anger building. She wanted to go out and slap some sense into the people out there. There was no way she was letting them leave.

“They’re scared. I mean, the president just told them to leave.”

“No. No one is leaving until we make sure all shipments have made it to their respective destinations. I want those webcams working and everything else to go without a hitch.” Samantha tried to leave no room for argument in her voice.

Lisa cocked her head and smiled. “I guess this means no more floor party? I’ll have to call the pizza guy off.”

“You don’t mind staying?” Samantha asked.

“Please, you’d have to drag me out of here.”

“Good, now get out there and tell everyone to get back to work,” Samantha demanded.

Lisa’s eyes narrowed and Samantha thought she saw a hint of anger before she smoothed it out. “As you say, Miss Samantha.”

The power to the whole building shut off. A few people on the floor let out screams.

Samantha sighed and looked at the ceiling. She wondered if the power was manually shut off or they had truly lost power.

“We should move,” Derek said. “If it is the start of an attack, this office will be the first place they come.”

An attack? Samantha walked around her desk and wished she looked half as calm as Lisa. Protocol should have secured the building, but how secure? She didn’t want to find out. “Where should we go?”

“There’s a safe room on. . . .” he glanced at Lisa, “I’ll just take you there.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “I’m supposed to stay with Samantha. Zach texted me not long ago.” She held out her phone.

“
Miss
Samantha...” Derek muttered.

Samantha took her phone and inspected the text. It was from Zach. “Fine.” She handed Lisa back the phone.

“Thank you,” Lisa said.

“It’s on the first floor, hope you ladies are wearing your walking heels today.”

Samantha followed Derek, with Lisa taking up the rear. People congregated near the receptionist’s desk and silence fell as they saw her nearing. All eyes were on her.

If she told them she was going to open the doors, the whole group would come with her. If an attack happened, it would be disastrous to have a meatball of people in one spot. “We have suspicions the power may have been shut off. We are going down to check the perimeter and once we establish an all clear, we’ll let you know.” Derek had formed the cover story and Samantha was grateful.

“You can’t just leave us here!”

“Yeah, it’s against the law or something to lock us in like this.”

Samantha held up her hands and called for silence. “Listen, we are only trying to keep everyone safe. No one will be held here. But I need to follow all safety protocols before we can open the doors. Don’t you all remember the assault on the front lawn?”

They murmured in agreement.
Good.
With shoulders back, she marched toward the staircase, keeping her eyes forward. She pushed the fire emergency exit door open and stood on the landing of the staircase. Derek followed right behind her while Lisa hugged his heels. The number sixteen door closed and Samantha glanced at the two people standing with her. “Where to?”

Derek nodded his head and brought out his gun. Samantha followed him down the stairs. Fifteen, fourteen, but on the next landing, there was no door. She paused and Derek must have noticed the clicking of her heels had stopped. He turned around and raised an eyebrow.

“There should be a door here.”

“Floor thirteen.” Derek shrugged.

“Yeah, I know it isn’t on the elevator, but I believed it was a superstitious thing. I never thought there was actually a hidden floor in the building.”

Lisa’s eyes narrowed and she stared at the wall where a door should have been. She brushed her hand over the wall and right when Samantha was about to ask her what she was doing, a screen lit up from behind the wall.

With wide eyes, Samantha moved closer to the screen. “It’s a keypad.” The numbers ran like a ten key on the screen.

“Do you know the code?” Lisa asked.

“I don’t think we should be messing with this stuff,” Derek said.

“There is some freaking secret floor I didn’t know about.” She hated admitting she didn’t know about it. “Don’t you think this would be the most secure floor to be in?”

Derek holstered his gun and sighed. “You’re probably right.”

Samantha turned back to the screen and typed in her access code to get into the computer files. The panel went dark and she stepped back, wondering if she put in the wrong code. Maybe it took a while to reset. She could use her employee number, or...

Samantha gasped as the entire wall slid open like a bank vault. Derek brought out his gun. She felt his nervous energy. Turning to Lisa, she saw her tilting her head, trying to see into the room as the door slowly opened. She didn’t seem nervous at all; she seemed excited about it.

The door clicked when fully open and the room beyond didn’t look much different than the computer tech room she’d seen on the lower floors. A person with a hoodie pulled over their head ran to the back of the long room and out through a door.

“Hey,” Derek called out, but the person never looked back.

Samantha stepped into the room with Lisa and Derek on either side of her. The unmanned computer stations displayed surveillance feeds. The first few showed multiple views of headquarters. Many more showed locations she wasn’t familiar with. They looked like parking lots or the insides of empty warehouses. Some were shrouded in the darkness of night. But it wasn’t night anywhere in America . . . the night shots must have been on another continent.

Her brow furrowed. Zach should have told her about this mass surveillance. She understood they needed to protect their assets, but as the Vice President of the company, she should know these kinds of things. It sent a pain in her gut and she wondered what else he hadn’t told her. How many secret floors did he hide from her?

She froze in front of a set of monitors. She knew this place. Zach’s house. The outside, front door, and kitchen were displayed on three screens, but she didn’t care about any of those. Shocked, she stared at the fourth and felt the color leaving her face. She took notice of the crumpled bed sheets, the exact way she left them this morning. Had someone watched them? Was there a recording? She had trouble standing and leaned against the desk.

“You know that house?” Derek glanced at the screen before returning to his manic scan of the floor.

“No.” She moved away from the screen. Later, if she could get alone, she’d destroy those computers and whatever content they held.

Lisa scurried around the place, typing into a computer here or there before moving onto the next, never looking up at them.

“What are you doing?” Samantha asked, thinking she’d opened a door that maybe Lisa shouldn’t have seen. If the VP wasn’t told about this floor, should the VP’s assistant know?