Outbreak (6 page)

I’ve never exited the compound from this area, but it’s how ExCon accesses the solar fields for maintenance. It’s a sparse industrial space with steel walls and heavy-duty shelves stretching up to twenty-foot ceilings.

The entire place is lit by short observation windows running along the outer wall, but work lamps glow over men holding soldering irons and standing at table saws.

“Parker!” barks an impatient female voice.

I hold in my groan and turn slowly. 

Jayden is standing by the window looking out on the Fringe, and next to her is a man I recognize as Cole Griffin, Undersecretary of Exterior Maintenance and Construction.

He’s a burly, hardworking man with a reddish beard and rough, weathered features. Unlike the rest of the board members who wear their taupe suits everywhere to flaunt their position, Griffin seems to prefer the orange and khaki foreman’s uniform when he’s working in the trenches — probably so ExCon workers will view him as one of their own.

Jayden holds up her index finger to show she’ll only be a minute, and I get a pang of irritation at how much she enjoys having me at her beck and call.

I don’t know why Jayden is over here or what she’d need to talk to Griffin about. She spends most of her time antagonizing Remy Chaplin, Undersecretary of Reconnaissance. 

As I watch, Jayden’s mouth twists into her signature “do what I say . . . or else” sneer, and Griffin’s expression hardens. Jayden must be steamrolling him on something, and he isn’t happy about it. Then her eyes light up in triumph, and she turns on her heel to come join us.

Seamus hands her the folder tucked under his arm just as Harper shuffles around the corner.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Jayden murmurs. “That will be all.”

I raise an eyebrow at her cool dismissal, but Seamus looks unfazed.

“Ahh, Riley,” simpers Jayden. “Nice of you to join us.”

I glance at Harper to gauge her mood, but I can’t read anything except her naked contempt. Three days ago, Jayden tried to have her killed, so I guess a little bitterness is to be expected.

“What’s going on here?” I ask Jayden, eyeing the men in orange moving things around on forklifts. I don’t come over here much, but I know there isn’t normally this much activity in the loading bay.

“We’re updating the land mines,” she says. “That was the compromise we reached in our strike negotiations. I assured Undersecretary Griffin that we had absolutely no knowledge of hostile survivors on the Fringe — or any survivors, for that matter. But we agreed to take some extra precautions to ensure that his workers felt safe.”

“What about
our
workers?” I ask incredulously. “We’re the ones getting blown up by the repurposed land mines.”

Jayden’s fake smile twitches. “That’s being handled. But in the meantime, I suggest you take a different route.”

“So it’s
not
being handled.” 

“Why did you call us?” Harper butts in.

Jayden’s gaze snaps onto Harper, and I can see the delight radiating from her predatory eyes. She doesn’t care that Harper knows she ordered the hit. I think she actually finds it funny.

“I have another assignment for you. I already briefed Parker.”

She moves away from the flurry of activity and motions for us to follow.

“This gang of drifters may be the biggest threat the compounds have ever faced. In the last few years, we’ve had no trouble crippling their forces, but they are growing in numbers. And, if your reports are accurate, they’ve also made great strides with their technology. We cannot afford a wide-scale breach of the perimeter — not now when things are so . . . volatile.”

I roll my eyes. “Volatile” is the understatement of the century. Control has managed to keep a lid on violence within the compound since the tier-three riots, but finding more drifters in the cleared zone would definitely end the grudging truce between ExCon and Recon.

Jayden whips open the file Seamus brought and hands it to Harper. It’s one of the stills Constance captured from Fringe surveillance. I recognize the man in the photo as Malcolm Martinez, the cutthroat leader of the Desperados gang.

“I need you to locate this man and terminate him. He is your number one priority.”

I can practically see Harper’s wheels turning. She wasn’t there when Mina led me to Constance’s headquarters in Information. Before now, she had no idea how far Constance’s reach extended.

“Also keep a lookout for this man,” Jayden continues, flipping to the next photograph. It’s Jackson Mills, the man Owen feels he owes for his protection.

“He used to be the leader of Nuclear Nation — another gang — but his crew has been absorbed into the Desperados. The old Nuclear Nation members aren’t numerous enough to pose a threat, but some of the Desperados would follow Mills if Martinez was out of the picture.”

Harper swallows, still avoiding my gaze. I can almost hear what she’s thinking:
If Constance knows about Malcolm and Jackson . . .

Jayden flips the photo over to reveal the last still. It’s the image that’s burned into my memory from the hours I spent in the Recon surveillance room.

Harper studies the photo for a moment and then drags in a sharp burst of air. She met Owen in person, so the few distinguishing marks visible in the still allow her brain to supply the rest of the face.

“What is it?” Jayden asks. “Have you seen him before?”

Harper swallows. She’s scrambling to come up with a good excuse. “N-no. I just didn’t know we had surveillance capabilities on the Fringe.”

“That’s no accident. Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to get a clear shot of this man. He’s done a decent job of flying under the radar, but you can identify him by that scar on his arm. He’s Mills’s right-hand man, and he needs to be dealt with.”

Jayden snaps the folder closed and glances around to ensure we haven’t attracted any unwanted attention. “Review these tonight. Learn their faces and then destroy the photos. This is your mission.”

“You want us to kill them?” Harper asks. Her voice is barely audible, but I can detect the undercurrent of fear and desperation there. She still hasn’t taken her eyes off the folder.

“I don’t expect it will be easy, but it is necessary,” says Jayden. “Don’t take too long, Parker. I am not a patient woman.”

“This isn’t our job,” snaps Harper.

I freeze, but Harper just glares up at Jayden with the boldness of someone who’s already looked death in the face once. Any normal person would shrink under that hateful expression, but it just fuels Jayden’s feelings of superiority.

“It is now.”

There’s palpable tension in the air as Harper reins in her defiance. I know Jayden doesn’t need to threaten Celdon’s life again to get her to do what she wants; Harper’s already seen what Constance is capable of.

Jayden leans forward — close enough to kiss her — and murmurs, “That is all.”

Harper pulls back with a withering stare, and I draw her away before she does something
really
stupid . . . like slap Jayden in front of all these people.

She follows me out of the loading bay at a brisk pace, and we’re barely out of earshot when she lets out an exasperated growl. “She wants us to assassinate
Owen
?”

“Keep your voice down,” I hiss, lengthening my stride to put a little more distance between us and Jayden. “At least she doesn’t know who he is . . . yet.”

“Well it’s only a matter of time!” she splutters. “You two could be twins! The only reason she didn’t see it this time was because half his face was hidden.”

“Well, there’s nothing I can do about that,” I say, feeling a smack of frustration. 

My white lie about 119 may have damaged Harper’s trust in me, but it’s not as if
everything
is my fault. 

“I didn’t even know Constance was surveilling the Fringe until the other day,” I mutter. “But I guess it makes sense. They have cameras everywhere else.”

We take the megalift back down to Recon, and when we disembark, the tide of people rushing in the opposite direction forces us to pause our conversation.

It takes lots of elbowing to break through the crowd, and when the sea of people thins out, I quicken my pace to get back to my compartment.

Then Harper’s hand closes around my arm, bringing me to a halt just outside my door.

“We can’t go in there. They could be watching.”

“They’re watching us everywhere,” I say. “In the megalift, in the training center . . . I don’t know if there’s a single place in this compound that Constance can’t find us.”

“What are we going to do?” she asks in a small voice. 

I know she’s talking about Owen, but that isn’t what captures my attention.

As she stares up at me with those earnest silvery-gray eyes, I realize Harper’s faith in me isn’t gone for good. She needs me to reassure her, but I have no idea what the fuck I’m going to say. She still doesn’t know about the other half of my discussion with Jayden. She doesn’t know how much is riding on this.

Jayden promised me that if I took out the gang leaders, she’d call off the attempts on Harper’s life. I don’t trust her or Constance to leave us alone, but now that Harper’s back from 119, I have no choice but to go along with Jayden’s plan until I come up with something better.

“I don’t know,” I murmur.

Harper is still gripping my arm, and in the seconds I was lost in thought, I managed to move even closer.

Her scent is all around me — that sweet vanilla perfume mixed with her hypnotic natural fragrance. I know that if I kissed her right now, her skin would be slightly salty from her run, and I have the sudden urge to bend down and taste her.

Harper’s lips part slightly as she watches my gaze, and I know we’re both thinking of the last kiss we shared in my compartment.

Without another word, I run my hand softly down her arm and cautiously interlace our fingers. She lets out a little sigh, and the look on her face is a mixture of relief and reluctance. 

She’s still angry that I lied to her, but she’s glad that we’re a team again. She isn’t shutting me out, and I’m touching her the way I’ve wanted to ever since I put her on that supply train. This is progress. 

I turn toward my door so I can punch in my code and pull Harper inside my dark compartment. She follows silently and nudges the door closed behind her.

I lean down to find her warm, soft lips, and she tastes even better than I remember. To my delight, she kisses me back without reservation, and we stumble sideways in the dark.

I move my hand to her hip to pull her closer, and the unwelcome florescent lights kick on automatically.

A tiny startled yelp escapes from Harper’s lips. She yanks her mouth away and jumps back as though she was burned. 

At first I think she’s come to her senses and decided not to forgive me so easily, but when I turn around, I see the source of her surprise.

Mina — the sexy, terrifying Information girl who works for Constance — is lying on my bed. She’s wearing a pair of skintight black pants and a geometric tank top that shows off her impressive cleavage. She’s lying back so her dark brown hair drapes over my pillow, and she’s got her feet up as though she owns the place.

The sight of a beautiful girl lounging on my bed should get me excited, but Mina just makes me feel sick to my stomach.

“What the hell?” Harper chokes.

“Sorry to break up the fun,” says Mina, flashing a sultry smile. Her gaze flickers between me and Harper. She isn’t sorry at all. 

As I watch, she stretches her arms like a cat and lets out a soft sigh, digging the pads of her perfectly manicured fingers into my bedspread.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I growl. Aside from Jayden, Mina is the absolute
last
person I want to see right now.

“So unfriendly.” 

Mina pulls herself into an upright position, shimmies her ass to the edge of my bed, and looks up at me innocently through endlessly long lashes. “I just came by to get what’s mine.”

Beside me, Harper stiffens, and I don’t even want to see the menacing look she’s giving Mina.

“What are you talking about?”

“My gun, silly,” she says, bouncing off the bed and landing on her feet. In her teetering black wedges with orange rhinestone heels, she’s nearly as tall as me. “I left it here the other night by accident.”

I open my mouth to protest, but Mina cuts me off by holding a finger to my lips.

“You look stressed, baby.” Her dark gaze flickers down to Harper. “Is it because
she’s
here?”

I can practically feel the shock and fury radiating from Harper, and I smack Mina’s finger away to put an end to this bullshit.

I cross to my desk and press my thumb to the drawer sensor. It beeps, and I reach inside to grab Mina’s compact handgun.

“Here,” I say, shoving it into her hand. “Now leave.”

Mina lets out a pouty little huff of air and juts out her bottom lip. “You’re not as fun as you were the other night.” She glances down at Harper and then back to me and cracks a dirty grin. “I’ll see you later.”

As she turns to pass between us, she scratches four long tangerine fingernails down my chest and brushes her bare shoulder against mine.

The door snaps shut behind her, and I run a hand down my face. “That wasn’t what it looked like,” I mutter, waiting for the stress to recede. “Mina is part of —”

“Fuck you,” Harper snaps.

I pull my hand away from my face and see Harper staring at me with a look of such intense betrayal that it breaks my heart.

“Harper, no,” I say quickly. “There’s nothing going on between me and Mina.”

She lets out a derisive laugh and gestures toward my pillow. The imprint from Mina’s perfect ass is still visible right next to it, and I realize just how bad this looks. “Oh, please, Eli. She was lying in your bed!”

“Yeah, because she’s an evil little sl—”

“Save it!” she snaps, wheeling around.

“Harper!”

I reach out and grab her arm, but she loads up her fist and shoots it out toward my nose before I even realize she’s going to hit me. I slip the jab purely on instinct, but Harper follows up with a nasty overhand right we worked on just last week.