The Shift: Book II of the Wildfire Saga (31 page)

C
HAPTER
16

C
HAD
HELD
ON
TO
the straps of his jumpseat inside the fleeing Osprey.
 
The pilot juked and weaved, causing the airplane to bob back and forth like a ship tossed on an storm-cursed ocean.
 
Chad struggled to keep from throwing up.
 
Not that the Russians ever gave him much more than oatmeal and stale bread, but he felt queasy nonetheless.
 
The interior of the airframe twisted and shook with the violent maneuvers the pilot forced on the plane.

One second Chad felt himself pressed into the thin, woven-mesh seat with extra G’s, the next he was hanging onto the straps for dear life as he felt himself lifted up out of the chair when the pilot pushed the plane into a nosedive.
 
He risked a glance around and saw grim-faced and bloody Rangers, the men who had rescued him from Glacier National Park.
 
Most of them at least.

In the dim, blue light inside the Osprey, Chad saw that Tuck was no longer with the Rangers.
 
His last memory before the traitorous Apache pilot had decided to sell him to the Russians was of Tuck, gut shot by the traitor.
 
Chad remembered the sniper had stuffed what looked like a tampon in his wound and dared the pilot to shoot him in the head.

Chad closed his eyes and tried to lean his head back against the headrest.
 
The shaking and vibrating of the airplane made concentration hard.
 
Tuck would never get his chance at revenge.
 
The Russians had taken care of that pilot.
 
He didn't remember all the details, but he would never forget the awful sound of her body as it hit the runway after the transfer.
 
She’d delivered Chad, blindfolded and gagged to the Russians for an exorbitant amount of money.
 
She had done it for her family—for her sick kid—she’d said.
 
Chad wondered if her family was still alive somewhere, waiting for her to come home.

The aircraft shuddered and Chad clenched his jaw.
 
He opened his eyes and across the narrow aisle, 13 sat as if she were on a casual Sunday drive.
 
The shaking of the aircraft didn't seem to faze her a bit.
 

Her blue eyes were locked on Chad's and the barest hint of a smile played at the corner of her lips.
 
She appeared completely at ease in such unusual surroundings.
 
Without warning, the airplane bucked and dove to the left.
 
The engines whined, metal groaned.
 
Chad was rolled onto his back and his stomach threatened to claw its way up through his face.

His hands clenched the chest harness holding him in his seat with white knuckles.
 
A cold sweat break out on his brow.
 
Dear God, don't let it end like this!
 
After all I've been through, don't let me die in a damn plane crash…

The Rangers were quiet around him.
 
One of them was actually snoring.
 
Chad stared at Garza, incredulous.
 
As the plane turned and moved, the Ranger’s head lolled sideways and pitched forward in unison with the aircraft.
 
The man was completely out.
 

Chad turned his head and sought out the huge frame of Deuce.
 
The big man flashed a grin and pointed at Garza.
 
He twirled his finger by his ear and grinned.
 

He could see Captain Alston's tall frame next to 13.
 
He was shouting into a headset radio.
 
Probably communicating with the pilot.
 
Chad hoped he was telling him to settle the hell down.
 
It would do no one any good if the plane crashed and Chad died.
 
His blood was still more precious than gold, but only if he was alive to donate.

Without warning, the engine noise changed pitch and the pilot leveled the plane out.
 
Chad felt the plane change course to a slow steady climb.
 
Everything tilted toward the rear of the plane.
 
A few loose items of gear rattled down the central aisle.
 
Chad closed his eyes and sent a prayer of thanks heavenward.

After a few more moments of relatively calm flight, Alston unbuckled his harness stood up to stretch.
 
He strolled down the aisle and returned with two headsets.
 
One he handed to 13, the other to Chad.

"Can you hear me?
 
Mr. Huntley, can you hear me?" asked Alston.

Chad nodded.
 
"I can't begin to thank you—"

"No need, sir.
 
Are you injured?"

Chad looked at his hands and patted his legs.
 
"No, I think I'm okay…"

Alston sat down and refastened his harness.
 
"Well, that's a relief.
 
I hate to think that we lost that many men for nothing."
 
Alston switched his focus from Chad to 13.
 
She had been watching
 
Chad but under Alston’s stare, turned an icy look back at the Ranger.

"I don't think we’ve been formally introduced, ma'am."
 
He held out his hand.
 
"Captain Derek Alston, U.S. Army.”

13 hesitated a moment, then lowered her eyes to his hand before finally accepting it.
 
"13," she said softly.
 

"13?" asked Alston.
 
"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It’s who I am," she said.
 
She turned and extended an athletic arm towards Chad.
 
“He’s 14."

Alston arched eyebrow at Chad.
 
"You have any idea what the hell she's talking about?"

Chad shrugged.
 
"She started to explain something about a test program…" Chad said.
 
His brows drew together.
 
"It was back during the Great Pandemic.
 
We didn't have a lot of time to talk back there thanks to the Russians.
 
And Germans.”

"Well," said Alston as he folded his arms across his chest, “what's left of my strike team has split up.
 
We’re going in different directions to try and evade the Russians.
 
This aircraft is heading back to Colorado via the Ohio River Valley.
 
We should have plenty of time for her story."

13 looked at Chad—
do you trust him?

Chad forced himself not to smile at the slight crease of skin between her delicate eyebrows and nodded.
 
"It's okay," he said in his most reassuring voice.
 
"I trust Captain Alston and his men with my life.
 
They saved me back in Montana."

"Then lost you?" she asked, as she glanced at Alston.
 
For his part, the Ranger sat stiff as a board as color crept up his neck.

"It wasn't their fault," Chad said.
 
"We were betrayed.
 
They had no idea I was going to be kidnapped by—“

“A traitor,” said Alston, a dangerous glint in his eye.
 
“A woman we thought we could trust.”

Chad decided to try and diffuse the situation.
 
"Go on," he said as he gestured to 13 with an open hand.
 
“Please…"

She stared at him for another few seconds, then folded her hands in her lap.
 
"Very well."
 
She closed her eyes and took a few breaths.

Alston rolled his eyes and checked his watch.
 
Chad was about to make sure she hadn’t gone to sleep like Garza when she began to speak

"It began at the start of Great Pandemic."
 
Her eyes opened, revealing that gorgeous shade of vibrant blue that had first attracted Chad.
 
"My father worked for the Swedish government—a scientist.
 
When he heard about the flu, about The Pandemic, he started work on a cure.
 
He insisted my sisters and I got his prototype vaccine.
 
At least, that's what he told us."
 
She frowned.
 
“The government decided to conduct a test—they took my blood and gave me experimental medicine.
 
And within a week, they took me from my home."
 
She closed her eyes again

"Who took you?" asked Alston.
 
The hard edge was gone from his voice, but he still looked on 13 with open suspicion.

"Someone from the government—I don't know who.
 
They were dressed in black.
 
I was asleep when they broke in—I had a test in school the next day.
 
They brought Poppa to my door and forced their way in.
 
One of them hit Poppa with his gun.”
 
She put her hands to her face.
 
“I remember the blood when his head hit the floor.
 
They put a bag over my head and dragged me into the night.
 
They wouldn’t even let me change into clothes.”

Alston looked at Chad with a glance that said:
You buy this?

"I woke up,” continued 13, “and found myself in some sort of lab.
 
I was naked and strapped to a table."

Chad's heart raced as his imagination began to take over.
 
Part of him was focused on her story and how horrifyingly similar it was to his own tale.
 
Granted, he had volunteered to go to that Tarrant County refugee center with his surviving neighbors… But once they had done tests on everyone and determined that not only was he free and clear of the flu but could never acquire it, he had been whisked away by men with black rifles and strapped to a cold, metal table.

The other part of him hung on her every word as he imagined her body without clothes—restrained and exposed.
 

He realized that he was staring at her chest.
 
Chad quickly averted his gaze.
 
13 didn’t appear to notice—she was looking at Alston.

"They took many, many blood samples—day and night.
 
They let me get up, they let me rest, they gave me food.”
 
She shook her head.
 
“And a lot water.
 
Day after day—it was always the same.
 
Wake up, drag me to the lab, insert needles, take blood, throw me back into my room.”
 
She turned her gaze on Chad and offered a sad smile.
 
"He knows of what I speak."

Alston looked at Chad.
 
"That sound plausible to you?"

Chad swallowed.
 
“Every bit of it.
 
Sounds exactly like what the Russians did to me this past week and what our own government did to me ten years ago.”
 
He suppressed a shudder at the memories.
 

"My father was important—maybe I was just more important.
 
I don’t know.
 
They let me go, eventually—at least out of the lab.
 
No more blood draws.
 
Instead, they put me in some training program—a military training program.
 
They taught me to survive, to defend myself.
 
Hand-to-hand fighting, basic weapon handling."
 
She turned and looked at Alston.
 
"The Swedish government placed a high value on me—other governments, too.
 
They were worried the Russians would try and take me, especially when The Pandemic got really bad."

Alston nodded his head, a sour look on his face.
 
"I remember those days.
 
That was some bad shit.
 
My sister and I lost our entire family.
 
I barely survived, myself.
 
When it was over, my sister and I joined the Army.”
 
He shrugged.
 
“There was nothing else left to do.
 
Schools were shut down, empty.
 
There weren’t any jobs yet because the Aftermath was just heating up…”

13 turned and looked at Chad.
 
"My government offered me a way to defend myself, to make me feel safe again.
 
I took it.
 
The training was…brutal.
 
It was like nothing I’d ever seen or done before.” she said with a laugh.

"Then the Russians came for me.
 
There was an explosion…a lot of fighting.
 
Many people died.
 
The men at the base tried to save me, but there were just too many Russians.”
 
Her face darkened and she looked down at her hands, the fingers idly picking at her chipped nails.
 
“They took me back to Russia.
 
At first they were kind—there was no mistake I was their prisoner—but they didn’t treat me like one.
 
They put me in an old palace—”