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Authors: Anson Barber

Tags: #Outer Banks;post-invasion;alien invasion;infected;Haunts;Anson Barber;aliens

Outer Banks (4 page)

BOOK: Outer Banks
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I stopped at the gate and held out my left hand automatically while holding out my papers with my right.

“Ready?”

“Yep.” I put my finger in what could have passed as a diabetic's blood testing machine. I winced a little as it pricked my finger. The box's green light blinked.

“You're all clear, Dillon,” the guard informed me.

“See you next time,” I called as I pulled away.

Once I got out, I turned my cell phone back on and called my dispatcher.

I offered my usual greeting. “Hey, Ray. Whata'ya say?”

There was a chuckle on the other end. “You got him?”

“Safe and sound. The papers should be faxed to you this morning.”

Ray would get confirmation of my capture from the facility, and I would have eight hundred dollars deposited into my account. Plus, I got to turn in my mileage.

I was normally bringing someone in every week, sometimes two. Knowing eventually this job would end kept me going back out as much as possible. I wanted to save as much as I could while I had the chance. But this last job with Corey was sticking with me. I needed a break.

“You ready for another one?” Ray asked.

“Not right away. I've been out for a while. I'm going to go home for a few days. I'll call you when I'm ready, unless you have an emergency or something.”

“No. Go home. I'll talk to you later.”

“'Night.”

“Good morning.” He chuckled again.

I stopped at the first hotel I came across and went to bed. I didn't request a wakeup call.

As tired as I was it took a while for me to fall asleep. I kept thinking it was wrong to leave Corey alone in that place.

The Outer Banks originally seemed like a great place to hang out until they worked on a cure, but each time I went there it seemed like things were getting worse.

The trash, the broken windows, the cutbacks, the desolate expressions on people's faces made me worry about my newfound cousin.

Eventually sleep over took the anxiety.

Chapter Four

I arrived home in Corbin, Kentucky late the next morning. Very late. I had been on the road since five the night before. I was beat, but didn't want to stop when I was only a few hours from home.

It would be nice to sleep in my own bed for a change.

When I pulled in the short lane that led to my tiny house, I noticed a limo sitting out in front. I wondered how long this person had been waiting.

Only Ray knew I would be home today. I frowned, not wanting company. Especially not the kind of company that came in a limo.

I parked and grabbed my bag, mostly full of dirty clothes.

The door on the limo opened and a tall, gray-haired man emerged from the black depths and walked toward me.

“Can I help you?” I asked while appraising the well-dressed man. Not a Fed at any rate. The suit said money not secrets.

He smiled. “I sure hope so. Are you Dillon McAllister?”

“I am. You would be…?” I was in no mood for being patient or polite. I just wanted to drag my ass to bed.

“Adam Mitchell, CEO and owner of Mitchell Laboratories. Do you have a moment to speak with me?”

Given my profession, I had an uneasy feeling about where this conversation might be headed. “A short moment.”

He nodded and followed me inside.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I offered while holding the refrigerator door open. It was pretty much water or beer. The milk had long since become sour cream.

“No, thank you.”

I pulled out a can of beer and popped it open, gesturing toward the table in the middle of the small kitchen.

Mr. Mitchell sat down and I sat across from him.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Mitchell?” I asked to get the ball rolling. I wanted to get some sleep in the worst way.

“I understand you are a Hunter?” he verified. God I hated that name. Hunter. Ridiculous.

The name had you picture someone with a gun, covered from head to toe in camouflage. Or a biker with a shotgun looking for bail jumpers. Instead, I wore clothes from Target and was armed with a UV flashlight and a fancy vest with lots of useless pockets. I decided against carrying a gun after my time with Bobby, but kept one under the seat in my van. Truth be told that was more for protecting the Haunts against other people. Whatever it was I did, it didn't feel like hunting.

“I am, but if you're having a problem with a Haunt you'll need to follow procedure. Contact someone at Homeland Security or the CDC to report it. Then they'll dispatch someone to collect the person.”

He tilted his head, watching me. “
Person
?”

Oh great, he was one of those. “Yes! They are
people.
Just like you and me. It could have easily been one of us who ended up that way. They can't help what they've become!” I began to get irritated, and the lack of sleep wasn't helping my mood.

I think he cracked a smile. “No. I guess they can't.”

I pulled out a card. “If you'll excuse me, I really need to get to bed. Here's the number for—”

He shook his head. “I'm not having a problem with a Haunt. That's not why I'm here. I need you to get an infected person out of quarantine.”

“You want me to get someone
out
?” This wasn't what I expected. “You don't understand. I take people in.”

“No. I do understand. Who better to get someone back out?”

“Okay. Then it's me who doesn't understand.” I shook my head, weary from the long trip. “Why would you want someone out?” Given he worked for a research company, a few disturbing possibilities came to mind.

“She's my daughter. Emery Mitchell.”

“Ah. Okay.” It made sense now. It wasn't the first time I'd been asked this, just not by anyone in a three thousand dollar suit. “Look, I know it's hard. I know you miss her, but honestly she's safer in there for now. If she was out in the world and came in contact with one of those lunatics from the Sons of the Sun or another hate group, they might kill her. They are still working on a cure—”

He held out his hand emphatically. “That's why we need to get her out.”

I looked at him, confused again. This would have gone a lot better if I could have slept first.

“She's going to save the world. She's a doctor—well a scientist. Both really.” He held out a picture of a pretty blonde with green eyes and a dimpled smile. She couldn't have been much more than twenty when it was taken.

“She got her first PhD when she was twenty. She's twenty-four now. She has her doctorate in genetic engineering and a number of other things. She's brilliant. If anyone can fix this, she can.” He sounded convinced.

As soon as I took the photo from him, I had a sinking feeling I was trapped. I didn't know why I would be willing to risk my job or be arrested for this rich guy and his smarty-pants daughter, but his voice was sincere when he said she would save the world and those green eyes went right through me.

I took a deep breath, trying to be objective. This was stupid. I handed him the picture back, not wanting it to sway my decision.

“Why don't you just buy her way out?” I questioned.

“Believe me, I've tried. It's not as easy as it sounds. Money only goes so far when it comes to national security. I have a guard on the inside who reports back information, but he's unwilling to get involved beyond that. He attempted to tell her I was trying to get her out, but both times she's attacked him. Not that she would believe him if he did get the chance to explain.”

“Why's that?”

“She doesn't know I'm alive. I lived in LA, but I was visiting a…friend in Palm Springs the evening of the first attack. My wife was home, however. She's gone.”

“I see.” I didn't need sleep to read between those lines.

“I tried to find Emery after the war. I thought she was dead as well, but by the time I found out she had survived as one of the infected it was too late. She was already detained.”

“Did she turn herself in?” Some had. They thought they would be first in line for the cure. Others got tricked, picked up when they showed up at a clinic for blood.

“Yes, I believe so.”

“How did she end up detained at the Outer Banks facility?” There was a private resort in the Keys for the rich and famous Haunts. Surely Mr. Limo here could have got her a great place.

“Her fiancé, Trevor convinced her it would be easier to find a cure working at OBX. That's why she turned herself in. She was going to work at the cure from inside, while he was going to work at it on the outside. She had made some headway, but then the military got anxious about the infected working on something this important and she was pushed out into general population. Trevor lost contact with her and didn't know what to do. He just gave up. He doesn't believe she should be removed, however. He wants to do the right thing, but he doesn't understand the right thing is different for a father.”

“I'm not a father either,” I pointed out.

“What about the right thing for the greater good? Forget that she's my daughter. What if I told you she had the potential to save everyone if she were given the resources? Resources I can provide. Would you consider it?”

“But she
is
your daughter and your opinion is biased.”

“Please.” He wasn't even close to giving up.

“Look. I know someone who works at the lab at the Outer Banks facility. I could talk to her and maybe she could find your daughter and let her help—” He was already shaking his head at my compromise.

“They won't allow it, no matter how qualified she is. Security concerns. That's why I haven't had her moved to Hatteras or drawn any extra attention to her. It would only make it harder for her to get out. Emmie needs the lab I've set up in California.”

I walked over to the window, needing a moment if I had any hope of refusing him.

“Have you ever heard of Zentricol?” he asked.

“It's a medicine.” I knew that much.

“Yes. It's a medicine used for the cure of heart defects in babies.” That would explain why I didn't know more about it. “Emmie designed it. Her work has already saved countless lives. How many people will die if she's kept from this, Mr. McAllister? What if you could have prevented it, but you didn't because she was related to me?”

This was the biggest guilt trip I'd had in a while. I sighed and rubbed my hand across my forehead.

For the greater good? One small female could come out of quarantine to save the rest? Could she do it? Could I risk it? I thought it over for a long minute. Then I realized I was way too tired for thinking that long, and went with my gut.

“A few conditions,” I finally said.

“Name it.”

“I stay on site to guard her while she's out. She gets three months. If she doesn't come up with something, she goes back and you try to get her clearance through proper channels again.”

“Agreed,” he said immediately, making me think he didn't even hear my demands. Or maybe he did hear them and was just that confident. I hoped he had a reason to be. “I'll pay you fifty thousand in advance and any expenses you incur. Another hundred thousand when she's delivered to the safe house I've prepared. If she is unsuccessful, you can transport her back to North Carolina. If she succeeds, I'll pay you another fifty thousand dollar bonus. Agreed?”

He had heard me loud and clear. He held out his hand and I shook it, hoping this wasn't a huge mistake.

“What is her physical condition?” I took out a pad and started preparing notes.

“She was healthy before the invasion. She ran every day, worked out. She should still be in fair shape now. Trevor said she seemed better than most. She's been in general population for almost six months, and though I understand she's been beaten up a few times, according to the guard she's okay. They heal very quickly, you know.”

Yeah, I knew. “Why has she been beaten up?”

“When my daughter has an opinion, she doesn't mind sharing it with you. She also doesn't take no for an answer.” He shook his head while I resisted the urge to tell him the stubborn apple hadn't fallen far from the tree. He hadn't taken no for an answer either. “The guard says she can stay awake almost twelve hours, so she must be strong, right?”

“That's a good indicator. Is this the most current photo you have of her?”

He nodded and handed it back to me. “Yes.”

“You know she won't look like this when I find her. She's going to be different. She might be dangerous, desperate,” I informed him.

“I'm prepared for whatever we need to do. I'll make sure she has blood readily available.”

I nodded, feeling better knowing he had a good grasp of what to expect.

“I need to get some sleep and then I'll start working on a plan tonight.”

“How long—”

I put up my hand to halt his question. “When I'm ready. I can't just pick her up like a prom date. I'll let you know. Don't try to pressure me, it won't work.”

“Do you think you'll be taking her during the night or day?” His brow creased.

“I'm thinking after she goes to sleep. It will be easier for both of us. Generally, I try to be ready when they wake up so I can explain things right away.”

“That's why I chose you. I'd heard you were more humane than the others. I knew you'd treat her like a person.”

“She
is
a person,” I answered as I'd answered Corey.

He nodded once again. “I only wish everyone agreed with you. Thank you, Mr. McAllister.”

“Call me Dillon.”

“Dillon. Thank you.” It looked like he was going to tear up. I showed him to the door. I did not need that right now. He handed me a card. “Here's my personal number. No one, not even my assistants will know what you're doing, so you'll have to contact me directly with any questions. I'll try to answer, but if I don't leave a suitably vague message and I'll call you back. Whatever you need to get this underway let me know.”

“I understand, Mr. Mitchell.”

“Please, call me Adam.”

Great. We were on a first name basis now.

He left me with fifty thousand dollars in cash in a nice thick envelope. Just like that. I could have run off with it and never even tried to locate his daughter. He also gave me a credit card that already had my name printed on it. “For expenses,” he'd instructed when I looked at it suspiciously.

I'm guessing he had checked me out pretty good and figured I would take the job.

Once his limo left I went straight to bed, barely able to kick my boots off before I fell asleep.

While I slept, I dreamed of Emery Mitchell. The girl in the photo.

I don't know what it was, but something about her had hit deep. One hour and already I couldn't get her out of my mind.

Her long blonde hair flowed in the breeze as she stood in the sun next to the ocean. She was wearing a sundress, and I could see the shape of her body through it.

She turned to me and smiled a happy genuine smile.

I started to walk toward her and she laughed. Nothing sinister, but there was a challenge in it.

“You think you can save them? You think you can save me?” She laughed again as her eyes turned black. Her skin peeled back and thick black fluid began to cover her entire body.

I yelled out as I woke up, sweating and panting. This was different than my usual nightmare.

It took a while for my brain to release that image, but eventually I fell back into a peaceful sleep.

The next day I called Ray when I was properly rested. My brain had been working things out while I slept.

The guard had told Mr. Mitchell that his daughter was living in Nags Head. I would need to bring in another Haunt and use that as my way in, taking Emery with me when I left.

“Who do you have?” I asked when Ray answered.

BOOK: Outer Banks
4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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