The Omega Protocol Chronicles (Book 1): Exodus (10 page)

“What was it like working for the CIA?” Trey asked.

Malcolm took his time with his answer, not used to such questions. For so long, he had kept his real job hidden from those outside the agency. He was used to giving his pat answer of working a desk job. Being honest about his old job was outside of his wheelhouse.

And what could he tell this kid really?

I was sent out to facilitate various political coups deemed desirable by the US government and I carried out my orders through any means necessary
.

That definitely wasn’t something he wanted anyone in the group to know, least of all Trey or Kim.

“It was interesting. A lot of travelling. I got to see a lot of places I never would have otherwise.”

“Is it like in the movies? You know, breaking into high security fortresses and disarming dirty bombs planted by terrorists.”

Malcolm chuckled. “No dirty bombs, fortunately. I was more the reconnaissance guy. Lots of night vision goggles and wiretaps.”

At least that was the truth, if only part of it. He had done the reconnaissance, they just didn’t need to know that he did it to look for the best route to eliminate the target permanently.

“Did you ever kill anyone?”

“Trey!” Kim glared at her son. “You don’t ask someone something like that! Apologize!”

“Sorry,” Trey mumbled, his shoulders hunching as he drew in on himself, obviously embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” Malcolm said, not wanting either one of them to think he was offended. “Before I joined the CIA, I was in the Marines. I served in Desert Storm so the truth is, yes, I have killed someone. It’s not something I’m proud of but it is something that is a part of me.”

He ducked under a low hanging branch, lifting it out of the way so Trey and Kim could pass unobstructed then falling in step next to them.

“The truth is when you take a life, it’s something that stays with you forever. It doesn’t matter if it’s in self defence, an act of war or keeping people safe…you’ve taken a life all the same. It changes you and it can break you. It isn’t something you should ever take pleasure or pride in.”

Malcolm looked to Kim to gauge her reaction to his confession, prepared to see horror or disgust there but she merely smiled at him, eyes awash with sympathy. That was better than he was expecting. He’d take pity over thinking he was a monster any day of the week.

“Do you think the water here will be safe to drink?” Kim asked, making an obvious attempt to change the subject for which he was grateful.

“It should be,” he replied, “We are far enough out we shouldn’t have to worry about chemical contamination. From the look of the map, this creek should be fed by winter runoff from the mountains. As long as it is fast running and there’s no stagnation, it should be potable after we boil it.”

“Can’t we use those water purification kits we found in the bags?” Trey asked.

“If the water looks nasty we can but I’d like to save them. We’ve got a long way to travel and we might need to get water from a questionable source. We’ll need the kits then.”

“How can you tell if it’s bad water or not?”

“Well, anything that is in a city is questionable. It could have chemicals or other toxic substances in it. Outside of the city, in places like this, you need to look for water that is moving. It means that there is a fresh source that is feeding it which will prevent stagnation. Water goes stagnate and it becomes a breeding ground for bacteria.”

Trey nodded, listening carefully to his advice. It felt good to be passing on something that was useful instead of stories of the questionable things he had done in his past.

The sound of running water drifted on the breeze and Malcolm grinned when the creek came into view between the thick tree trunks. It was less than a dozen feet across and at its deepest point would probably only reach his knees but it was moving fast over the rocks and tree roots at its edges.

“Is this good?” Trey asked and Malcolm nodded.

“Exactly what we were looking for.”

“We should hike downstream tomorrow, see if it gets any wider or deeper. If it does, we might be lucky enough to get some fish out of it.” He turned to Trey. “You ever been fly fishing?”

“I went fishing off the pier with my friends a couple of times,” he replied.

“Fly fishing is a bit different. Casting is an art form. We found some poles at the welcome centre. We can practice tonight once the camp is settled.” Malcolm made the offer before remembering that Trey was a kid and certainly not his kid. He turned to Kim with a sheepish smile. “As long as that is okay with you.”

“Of course it is,” Kim replied and he saw a flash of emotion in her eyes, something like sadness. It was strange and Malcolm worried that he had done something wrong, maybe overstepped a boundary he didn’t know was there.

“You want to start filling up those jugs, Trey?” he said and the boy nodded, toeing off his shoes and wading out to the stream with one of the plastic jugs. Malcolm turned to Kim, speaking in a low tone so not to be overheard. “I’m sorry for putting you on the spot like that. I wasn’t thinking. If you aren’t comfortable with me spending time with Trey, I understand.”

“Malcolm, it’s fine, really.”

“Are you sure? You didn’t exactly look happy when you agreed to it.”

“That had nothing to do with you,” she replied, her gaze drifting to Trey and that same sadness filled her eyes. “I’m more than happy to have you teach him how to fish. It’s good for him to have a man around to teach him things like that. It just makes me think about all the things he’s missed out on without a father around.”

“He doesn’t see his father often?”

Kim shook her head, her mouth curving into a bitter smile. “Not since he was a baby. We were teenagers when Trey was born and when his father realized that having a kid meant he couldn’t be a kid himself, he bolted. I tried my best to be both his mother and father but I worry that it wasn’t enough.”

His heart ached for Kim as she voiced her worries. He had heard them all before from Janet after Eric had died.  

“It was enough,” Malcolm said, his words firm. “He is a good kid. That’s all on you. Never doubt that you have done good by that kid.”

She turned to look at him and he saw her blinking back tears. “Thank you.”

He put his hand on her shoulder, wanting to offer her some tangible comfort. She sighed and he felt the tension she was carrying ease. His thumb grazed the bare skin of her neck, sending electricity sizzling through his hand. She inhaled sharply and Malcolm saw the pulse at her throat flutter.

His own heartbeat kicked up as he traced the pad of his thumb over her pulse point then continued up her delicate throat to caress her jaw line. His hand shifted so his palm cupped the back of her neck, fingers caressing the tight curls at her nape. Her pupils were dilated wide and he knew his own looked the same, arousal pooling in his belly as he gazed down at her.

His eyes dropped to her mouth, her lips parted slightly and he had to bite back a groan when the tip of her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip. He wanted to close the distance between them, to taste her again. His cock twitched in his pants, urging him to do it and he took a step forward, his hand tightening ever so slightly around the back of her neck.

“Fuck!”

The loud curse and splashing water had them both jumping in surprise and Malcolm looked to see Trey ass-planted in the creek.

“Watch your language,” Kim chastised him, moving towards the creek and away from Malcolm. He reluctantly let his hand drop, already missing her warm skin.

“Sorry Mom,” Trey replied as he righted himself, glaring down at his soaking wet clothes. “I slipped.”

Good timing
, Malcolm thought, shaking his head to rid it of the fog that had seemed to grow around him when he touched Kim. He had forgotten for a moment that Trey was even there. He wasn’t sure how it would have gone over with the kid if he had turned around to see a practical stranger feeling up his mom.

“Well, let’s get the jugs filled up so we can get back to camp and you can change,” Kim said. She was right, they needed to focus on getting the job done and heading back. This definitely wasn’t the time to be getting distracted.

He picked up one of the jugs and followed her into the creek. He couldn’t stop himself from letting his eyes drift over to Kim, admiring the curve of her backside as she bent over. As if she sensed his gaze, she lifted her head to look at him and winked. He was beginning to realize it was definitely more than a heat of the moment thing.

Still he had to be careful. Even in the best of times, navigating a relationship was a challenge. Now it seemed like a near impossible task. There were too many distractions, too many obstacles to establishing any kind of intimacy while they were on the run for their lives. He had to focus on leading the group to the safety he had promised them. It was priority number one and everything else, even his own desires, had to come after that.

Subject File # 745

Administrator - It’s nice to finally get to talk to you. I’ve heard all about your heroic exploits.

Subject - I ain’t no hero.

Administrator - You are to those girls.

Subject - Can’t trust kids to have any sense. I ain’t no hero.

When the reports had first surfaced on the news, Jackson Webber hadn’t given them much thought. City folk bullshit, far as he was concerned. It was nothing he had to worry about out in the sticks.

But then it started to spread and that got the folks in town worried. Town called a bunch of meetings and that got everybody whipped up into a frenzy. Before long the sheriff and a bunch of volunteers got all the roads out of town blocked and started up a glorified neighbourhood watch.

Zero tolerance for infected and outsiders.

Jackson had seen one of their patrols when they came through the trailer park. Bunch of good ol’ boys chomping at the bit for a reason to use the rifles they carried around.

Rest of the townsfolk thought they were a blessing. He’d heard plenty of people fawning over them when he’d gone into the supermarket earlier in the week. They didn’t realize that if things kept going the way they were, it was going to get ugly when the already understocked stores ran out of shit. Then they’d see what a blessing those men really were when they used those guns to take what they wanted.

Not that he gave enough of a shit to tell them all that. They wouldn’t listen to him if he spoke up anyway. He was as good as an outsider as far as they were concerned. He’d only been in the town three years, moving in to help his ailing grandma. She was respected in the town but she’d been dead a year now and whatever good will his relation to her had bought him had died with her.

He’d thought about leaving town when she’d died but he couldn’t face packing up her things. Gran had been the only person to ever give a shit about him his entire life. So he’d let the trailer stand as a memorial to her, leaving everything as it was when she was alive. He told himself it was better this way. He had a roof over his head and a good job down at the garage and that was enough.

Now he was starting to regret his decision to stay. Maybe then he wouldn’t be trapped inside a town that was fixing to explode. The power had gone out two days ago and the television and radio had cut out the day before.

Panic was starting to get the better of people. He could see it as he walked through the trailer park and saw cars being loaded up. Not everyone, mind you, but there were enough people to kick up a buzz in the air as he made his way to the well in the centre of the park.

When the power had gone out, the people in the park had been forced to manually draw their water from the well. Some people had bitched about it but as far as Jackson was concerned they were damn lucky to have any water at all.

No one seemed to be complaining about it now. In fact, they all seemed downright ecstatic over the chance to pump their own water, yelling and pushing each other as they formed a ring around the well house.

A man pushed his way out of the crowd, a blue plastic jug held tight against his chest. Jackson recognized Ian Cole; the man was one of the few people in the park he actually liked. Hell, he liked the man’s whole family. His wife Grace always had a smile and a kind word for him and their two daughters, Audrey and Hannah, were well behaved. The family had a soft spot for Gran and they had been the ones to help her out before he moved to town.

“Jackson, I was gonna come see you,” Ian said as his greeting.  

“Why, what’s goin’ on?”

“Winston heard some chatter on his CB that some sick people got past the east end barricade. He said they’re coming this way.”

“So that’s what’s got everyone's panties in a wad,” Jackson said, looking at the crowd.

Ian glanced in their direction and snorted. The yelling was getting louder as they started getting in each other’s faces, chests and shoulders bumping together. They were one lost temper away from an all out brawl.

“People are forgetting what it means to be neighbourly.” Ian held up the blue jug for Jackson to see it was only half full. “Mr. Cranston cracked me in the ribs with his cane when he thought I was taking too much. Had no idea the old coot could swing like that.”