RecruitZ (Afterworld Series) (12 page)

“Yeah. Just take a right and stay on the road for two blocks and turn left into the subdivision. Thank you,” I whispered.

“It might not be safe for you to stay here any longer,” Preston said, pulling into my driveway.

“I can’t live in hiding,” I protested.

He turned off the engine and let out a deep breath. “You may have no choice. The idea of you working at the bar is out, obviously. I think my time there has run its course as well.”

“I’m not leaving my house.”

Preston’s jaw clenched and he stared straight ahead.

“Where would I even go? If they can track down what gym I belong to, they already know where I live. My guess is that whatever it is that they plan on doing to me will happen in a public space. I don’t think they’ll do anything that’ll tie them to my residence.”

“That’s a pretty big risk you’re willing to take.”

“Maybe, but I think going out for coffee is probably riskier than staying at home,” I said, as I opened the front door cautiously.

He knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with me.

He craned his neck to make sure that there was no one waiting inside for us. I flipped on the lights and closed the door.

“There’s nothing to be worried about,” I told him. “No one’s been here.”

“How can you be so certain?” he asked, his brow arched.

“I have the place booby-trapped.”

Preston started laughing. “Of course you do.”

“So where did the straggler get into the yard?” Preston asked, attempting to change the subject.

“It busted through the fence out back.”

He walked over to the sliding glass door, which was covered in oily smudges from the zombie continually running into it. “Have some Windex?”

I turned and smiled at him. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Might as well while you get packed up,” he said.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I reached into the cabinet under the sink and grabbed the Windex wipes and handed them to him.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, opening the slider and wiping away the evidence of the straggler’s lack of intelligence.

“After seeing the straggler this morning, it verifies what I know I saw with Gavin,” I said, standing next to Preston as he wiped the glass clean. “Stragglers are the kinds of zombies I’m used to dealing with, the unthinking kind. The ones that stole Gavin, and even the fighters, have something more guiding them.”

“I still think they’re unthinking,” Preston said. “But maybe amped up a bit.”

“Maybe.”

He finished with the window and glanced at the hole in the fence. “You have any wood or anything I could use to patch the fence up?” he asked.

“You really don’t need to worry about it. I was going to call someone out.”

He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. Might as well get it done right now. We still have about an hour before we have to meet your friend.”

I groaned. I had completely forgotten about meeting Abby. “I’m gonna cancel.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said, placing the Windex wipes on the counter. “The wood in the garage?”

I nodded.

“I know you’ve been through a lot today, but you can’t forget that you’re already walking on thin ice with her. Any excuse you give her will make you look flaky. And remember, we’re trying to keep you safe and…”

“I know. I’m sorry,” I interrupted, realizing he was right. Now wasn’t the time to blow off Abby. “Everything you need should be in the garage. I’m gonna go upstairs and try to start the day over again.”

I reached the top of the stairs and my muscles finally gave up. Every single movement either caused my joints to ache or my muscles to burn. I didn’t even want to imagine what tomorrow was going to be like. I grabbed a pair of jeans and a baggy sweatshirt and dumped them on the bathroom counter. As the water warmed and the steam began rolling through the bathroom, I stripped and stood under the hot water. My mind drifted back to Frank, and his willingness to sacrifice his life for me. I was hoping the water from the shower would wash away everything from today, but all it did was make me feel worse about leaving Frank in the gym. He deserved better than that, and I had to figure out a way to make his death mean something. I just wasn’t sure how—maybe finding answers? I rinsed the soap out of my hair and turned the water off. I dried off, dressed, and made my way downstairs.

I walked outside, my hair still wet, and watched Preston attaching a piece of plywood. He was hammering in the last nail as I stood next to him. The breeze had picked up, making me wish I’d dried my hair more.

“It didn’t work,” I said flatly.

“Wanted to wash it all away, huh?” he asked, his voice kind.

“That was the hope.”

“Doesn’t look as good as the original, but it should keep any other stragglers out,” he said, pointing at the repair job.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it,” I said, almost whispering. I felt the tears roll down my cheek and quickly wiped them away.

“Hey, you okay?” Preston asked.

“Yeah. I’m sorry,” I said, sniffing.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“Gavin built this fence. Seeing it get damaged this morning really messed with me. What confuses me most is that I’ve let myself cry more over the fence being destroyed than him.” I pressed my lips together as I mulled over what I’d actually said. It was true, and yet I confessed it to an almost stranger.

“Grief manifests itself in countless ways,” Preston said, stepping away from the fence. He picked up some spare nails and shoved them in his pocket. “But if you keep holding it in—”

“I know,” I said, cutting him off. “I know. Abby tells me that all the time.”

We walked inside and he dumped the nails out of his pocket onto the sofa table.

“I’d like to show you Gavin’s notebook. Maybe you can make some sense of it.”

He followed me over to the door leading to the basement. I unlocked it and flipped on the light. The moment I stepped inside, I felt calmer. There was no way I was going to leave my house. That was ridiculous.

Preston gave a low whistle when we hit the bottom of the staircase. “This is impressive.”

He looked around the room, his eyes stopping only to take in the various maps I’d hung on the wall, outlining different hotspots of underground activities. “I had no idea you were so far along with everything.”

“It’s all I do. Mind turning around?” I asked.

“Sure.”

I crawled under my desk and pulled on the baseboard of the wall, revealing Gavin’s notebook that I’d stuffed behind the drywall. I secured the trim back and stood up, plopping the folder on the desk.

“Okay. You can turn around now.”

Preston spun around, his eyes falling on the notebook and then at me. “You’re sure you don’t mind me taking a look?”

I shook my head. “If we’re going to be partners, I have to give you a little something to work off of too.”

He flipped open the cover and glanced down at the first page and let out a sigh.

“What?” I asked.

“I think we might just be on to something,” he whispered, flipping through the pages.

“It isn’t the same as what your sister had in hers?”

“It’s not the same, but his work certainly compliments hers nicely.” He turned to look at me. “I’m pretty certain your husband and my sister were working on something together. Now we just have to investigate what it was that would have gotten them killed.”

“Look at some of these notes,” Preston said, his fingers tracing down the first page.

I didn’t even need to look at the pages. I had them memorized.

“It looks like he was focusing on the proton-proton chain during fusion. A helium-3 atom…” his voice trailed off.

“I don’t exactly know what to make of it. I thought he was studying genetics, but what would that have to do with nuclear fission?”

Preston nodded and flipped the pages. “Yeah. He’s got the entire process detailed. The reactions, which produce the high energy particles and...” He flipped the page. “Regardless of what you thought he was studying, this notebook is completely filled with theory on Nuclear Fusion.”

“I thought it was Nuclear Fission?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No. It’s Fusion. Nuclear reactors use Fission to generate power by splitting one atom into two atoms. With Fusion, two atoms are joined together to create only one atom. It’s the same type of reaction that powers the sun.”

“Really,” I stated. “I’m not sure how that has anything to do with gene therapy.”

“Maybe he wasn’t honest with you about what he was studying.”

“He would have told me if he switched concentrations. He wouldn’t hide something like that from me.”

Preston was quiet as he continued to flip through the book.

“I’m sure of it,” I whispered more to myself than to him. “He would never lie to me, even if it were only by omission. He would never lie to me.”

Preston didn’t attempt to correct me. Instead, he steered the conversation back to the notebook. “He really goes into the conditions needed and the elements for production…”

“How does this relate to what your sister was studying? What you found in her notebook?” I asked.

“She was focusing on the source of ignition, the heat source to ignite the—”

“Source of ignition?” I interrupted.

“It’s almost like a spark. From what I gathered, they only need to capture enough power for a millionth of a second to create the energy. It looked like she was focusing on using a laser to heat or “ignite” the pea-sized plasma, theoretically creating the heat and pressure needed for production.”

“I still feel like we’re missing the real purpose of his studies,” I said, staring at Preston.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Preston said. “Neither of us are scientists.”

“Well, whatever they were onto was important to someone so hopefully we can figure it out or find someone who can.”

“Which brings me back to my earlier statement. You shouldn’t be staying here.”

I smiled at him and crossed my arms. “Not only is this place booby-trapped, but this room you’re standing in? It’s a safe room. Nothing and no one will get in here, until I say so. My house is the safest place to be.”

“You’re telling me that you think that measly door up there will stop people from coming down here?”

“Not at all. But the blast door that drops down behind it certainly will. This room is built to withstand just about anything, and Gavin even put in a air filtration system that will keep out nuclear, biological, and chemical threats.” As the words rolled off my tongue, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t put two and two together.

Preston pressed his lips together as he watched my reaction.

“Nuclear threats,” I said quietly. “That certainly aligns with his studies, doesn’t it?”

I couldn’t believe I didn’t see it before. What did he know?

Preston nodded. “Whatever threat he was concerned about had him worried enough to secure his home.”

“I guess our relationship wasn’t as transparent as I thought,” I said, grabbing the notebook.

“He was probably only trying to protect you.”

“Do I look like the type of girl who needs protecting?”

“No. But that’s what we do. We’re wired that way. At least, the good ones are,” he said, smiling.

“It’s really hard for me to think he was keeping things from me, and my guess is that whoever was after me this morning thinks I know more about what Gavin was up to than I do.”

Preston pressed his fingers on his neck and began squeezing the tension out of his muscles as he looked at the maps.

“Someone died because of me. Do you know what that feels like?” I asked. My throat felt like it was closing up at the thought of what I’d admitted.

“No I don’t, but I can imagine.”

“Whatever you’re imagining, make it a hundred times more paralyzing,” I muttered, letting out a deep sigh. “I need answers. I need to feel like I’m doing something. Do you know where they keep the zombies before bringing them to the pit?”