RecruitZ (Afterworld Series) (29 page)

“I think it had to do with the two guards who found Braden,” Preston said.

“It’s crazy how everything always links back to Marcus.” I shook my head and cupped my hands over Preston’s in front of me as I leaned back into him more.

“We have her address. What’s suspicious about it is that it’s in one of the cities that was completely destroyed during the outbreak. One of the few places declared uninhabitable.”

“You don’t think it could just be an old address for her?” I asked.

Emily shook her head. “No. She’s definitely been there recently. But the satellite images don’t show any functional structures in a five mile radius of where she could be hiding out.”

“How far is it from here?” Preston asked.

“It’s about five hours,” she said. “Across the mountains.”

“Of course.” I sighed.

“We also have tests running on the liquid you brought back,” Emily said, her eyes moving between Preston’s and mine.

“We detected deuterium oxide or D2O as it is more commonly known,” she said.

“Which is what?” I asked.

“It’s heavy water,” she paused, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. “It’s a pretty common component in nuclear energy research. Have you ever heard about heavy water reactors?”

I nodded as my mind drifted back to Gavin’s notebook, and all of the information pertaining to nuclear fusion and fission.

“Well, that was a common use back in the day,” she said.

“So why would zombies be floating in vats of heavy water?” I asked. “Is it harmful?”

“Yeah. It’s nothing you want to drink, and it wasn’t great that you wrapped yourselves up in it, but we can’t worry about that now,” Emily continued. “But there are a few characteristics that make heavy water an interesting substance to study, especially when a test subject can be something as innate as the undead.”

“You’ve lost me,” I said.

“Heavy water behaves differently than say regular old H2O. It can actually affect the circadian oscillations.”

I stared at her blankly and sighed.

“You know, like the circadian rhythm, the twenty-four clock that most biological life adheres to…” She was getting frustrated and so was I. “Whether it’s humans, plants, or fungi there’s this built-in clock that’s pretty constant. Granted, there can be external cues depending on the local environment, but generally the rhythm still exists. If you keep a poinsettia in the dark it still responds to a twenty-four hour clock, the hormones are still released—everything still goes according to this plan. There are very few things that can disrupt that or stall it out, but heavy water is one of those things.”

“Huh,” I said.

“No one knows why cellular structures react with heavy water like that, but depending on the concentration anything from sterility to death can be a result of ingesting too much.”

“But if you’re already dead, what does it matter?” I muttered. “Maybe it will keep the bodies from deteriorating. The zombies could be held indefinitely.”

Emily nodded. “But this is the kicker. It’s also known to slow down the aging process. But the problem is that the levels needed for every individual is based on that particular person’s body composition. What might increase one person’s life by twenty-five percent could kill another.”

“Remember how I said Peter didn’t have any of his tattoos?” I asked, turning to look at Preston. He loosened his arms and I stepped away to take a seat.

“Yeah.” He nodded, placing his hands behind him, against the counter.

“What if that was a clone of my brother-in-law?”

Preston’s blue eyes narrowed as I continued my theory.

“What if they’re making clones and turning them into zombies, turning them into weapons?” It sounded crazy, but what I saw
was
crazy.

“That could be,” Emily seconded. “I mean cloning nowadays can be done in a blink of an eye. They could get the clones to the physical age they want, turn them, and then keep them going with the heavy water until they’re ready to use.”

“But how are they training them?” I asked, thinking back to the zombie pits, the hordes that come and go on command.

Preston shook his head. “That’s something we have to uncover or…”

“Yeah,” I said, feeling the familiar rush of excitement pound through my veins at the latest revelations.

“And the zombie pits are the perfect cover. Marcus is raking in the cash from all over. His company is contracted by the government to protect and serve, but what he’s really up to is taking over the facilities, developing zombies. Then he manages to create a circuit where the creatures fight each other,” Preston said, shaking his head.

“All the while, he’s just testing out his creations in the ring, testing them, training them,” I said.

“When Brenda said he was their top trainer, I doubt she even knew what he was really capable of,” Preston said, his blue eyes darkening a shade.

“We need to go meet the doctor. Find out what she knows,” I said.

A cough from upstairs startled us all. It was Braden. He was waking up.

We didn’t get on the road until early evening after Braden had woken up. He was groggy, confused, and puzzled to be alive—grateful, but puzzled. The news went about as well as it could, but in typical Braden style he was far more interested in what we’d found out and almost kicked us out of the house to get us on our way to the doctor’s. Preston and I made it over the mountains but pulled off to get a good night’s sleep before hitting the last two hours of the drive. Now here we were, driving into this area void of civilization.

The road leading into the city deemed uninhabitable was lined with downed power lines and gnarled trees. An occasional burst of green sprayed from the cracks in the street and sidewalks. It felt as if we were being watched—but by who? There was no one left.

“I hope this sheds some light on Peter,” I said, looking at Preston, his hands tightly gripping the wheel. “And Gavin.”

Without warning, Preston stopped the truck in the middle of the road. There was no point in pulling over in a place like this.

“What?” I asked, shifting in my seat, the harness limiting my movements.

“There was something else that Emily found in Gavin’s notebook,” Preston said, his eyes darkening a shade.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” I said. “There were all sorts of things listed inside.”

He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to face me. He grabbed my hands and placed them inside his.

This didn’t seem good.

“There was a long chain of numbers,” he began.

“Yeah?” I arched my brow, unsure of where this was headed.

“It led to a foreign bank account containing a very large sum of money. The deposit was made one week before Gavin was killed.”

Getting large chunks of money wasn’t that uncommon at the moment, considering all of the different agencies handing out subsidies. And tracking down relatives to transfer assets to was commonplace.

“So?” I asked.

“Emily dug a bit because the amount was so unsettling.”

“How unsettling?” I asked, mentally calculating some of the most recent notifications I had received about funds being deposited. There was one recent deposit for seven hundred and eighty thousand, and another for three hundred thousand.

“Ten million,” he said flatly.

“And the source?” I asked, as a chill settled over me.

“A subsidiary of ML Holdings, which—”

Marcus Lordan. I held up my hand, interrupting what Preston was about to say. My world would never be the same. How I looked at my own life, my own perceptions of people would never be the same. As the realization settled over me, I slowly turned away from Preston and removed my hands. Gavin was involved with Marcus. Was he researching for him? Did he develop what killed him?

“Sophie received a similar payout,” Preston said softly.

“So what are you saying? The company paid them and then killed them?” I asked, perplexed. “Why wouldn’t they get their money back first?”

“You are legally entitled to Gavin’s money just as I am to Sophie’s. But if either of us dies, and we have no offspring, the amount rolls back to ML Holdings.”

It felt like I had been kicked in the gut, like attempting that next breath would be too much effort.

“That’s why we’ve been of such interest to Marcus as of late. I doubt they figured we’d ever piece together what Gavin or Sophie discovered. They weren’t after us for the notebooks. They were after us for the money,” he said. “They already had what they needed from Gavin and Sophie.”

The man I thought I knew was slowly disintegrating into nothing with every passing second. I tried reaching and pulling out certain things I loved about him, but the memories would slip away before I could catch them, feel them. This act of betrayal took away everything we shared. He had lived a lie and forced me to be part of it. I shivered as the hollowness spread out from the pit of my stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned to face Preston. I raised my right hand up to his cheek and guided my fingers along his jaw line, feeling the prick of whiskers as I glided my fingers over his skin. My eyes focused on his beautiful eyes, full lips, and kind expression.

“Don’t be,” I whispered, feeling the sting of tears touch my cheeks.

A charge ran between us. Just as he said before, some revelations unexpectedly unite people while others tear them apart. Preston leaned toward me, the sunlight capturing the green in his normally blue eyes, as he softly cupped his hand behind my neck. He pressed his forehead against mine and let out a deep sigh—our souls so close to one another as we both mourned the people we thought we knew.

I felt at peace as Preston held me. I think on some level I knew there was a missing piece to the puzzle, a reason why Gavin was targeted. I just never thought it would be this ugly, this tainted.

“When did you find out?” I asked.

“While you were asleep.” He slowly pulled away, and I touched his leg not wanting the connection we shared to vanish.

“I think I’ve had enough personal fun for the moment,” I said, buckling myself back in the seat. “Let’s get this over with.”

As Preston continued down the road, I found myself laughing. I had been on the pursuit of truth, the road to retribution for Gavin. I wanted to avenge my husband’s death.

I no longer cared about that.

I wanted answers for myself. I wanted answers for Izzy and the people who couldn’t find answers for themselves. Whatever we were on the brink of discovering was larger than me, or my personal vendetta. I had to make things right. I had to stop what Gavin started.

“Glad you’re able to find something funny about the situation,” Preston said, smiling.

“My maniacal laughter didn’t scare you? I’ll have to work on it,” I said, looking out the window at the vacant city. Something more than the outbreak happened here. Collapsed buildings lined the city streets, and the cracks in the roadway were several inches wide.

There were piles of rubble, mixed with the remnants of personal belongings, that looked as if they’d been set on fire.

“It almost looks like tanks came through and flattened everything,” Preston said, scanning the street ahead.

“Yeah. Kinda does, except for the piles of debris,” I agreed.

We were completely vulnerable as we drove down the street, exposed to anyone who cared to take a shot. The saving grace was that I didn’t think there was anyone around to take a shot, except for possibly the doctor. But by all accounts she was probably underground somewhere. My eyes danced from one dilapidated building to the next, searching for cameras or any sign of surveillance, but I saw none.

“Up ahead,” Preston said, the truck continuing to crawl over the road.

“You think that’s it?” I asked.

The building in front of us was a charred mess. There was only a basic shell of what ‘used to be’ at the end of the road. I let out a sigh as I thought about having to go underground again. And then I remembered how easily I had fought the feelings of claustrophobia once I realized there were bigger fears to worry about, like not dying.