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Hunt (Book Four the Hunted) Page 5
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For a heartbeat he remembers another helicopter in a different meadow, shot down by a humming missile. It sparks Reid’s fear again, but that passes. The soldiers are far too busy to launch anything at them right now.
Reid looks out at the climbing column of smoke where one of the tanks used to be, watches the doctor’s forces retreat. The stench is overwhelming, cloying and thick, clogging his lungs, burning his throat. The sun is almost down, long shadows reaching out over what’s left of the battle.
He leans back. Catches Joel’s eyes. Grins at him like it’s funny.
Joel grins back.
That’s that, then. The first chance they get, they will try to kill each other.
Reid’s fine with it. He fully intends to win.
He is considering all the wonderful options available to end Joel’s life when he sees Dr. Lund lean toward him.
He slides forward to see what she wants, only to feel something prick his leg. He looks down and spots the syringe poking out of his thigh and only has enough time to look up and into her smiling face before darkness carries him away.
***
Chapter Eight
He’s getting tired of being drugged and kidnapped. Twice in ten days is enough for a lifetime.
Reid opens his eyes in dim, damp quiet, staring up at a cold gray concrete ceiling. Everything around him smells of slowly rusting metal and mildew. A single light bulb is tucked into a small socket above him, but it is dark. The only light he sees comes from the same direction as his feet.
He tips his chin, looking toward the illumination. Bars. To his right another slab of concrete. Same on his left. Reid swings his legs sideways, taking his time sitting up as his stomach protests the treatment he’s received. He is forced to sit with his head in his hands for several long moments while echoing sounds drift to him, as though from a great distance, through the thick bars of his cell.
It’s definitely a prison of some kind. Has that feel to it. Not that Reid has ever been in prison, but it’s exactly as he imagined one would be from watching TV and movies. The floor is rough concrete as well, a simple metal toilet hanging from the back wall, so close he can reach out and touch it. A plain sink rises beside it. He risks a look up. A mirror hangs over the two rusting taps, bolted to the wall.
The bunk under his butt creaks as he gains his feet, testing his balance and stability. The knockout shot hasn’t done him any serious damage, the last of the effects fading quickly, including the tingle in his unhappy stomach.
He looks down at himself. Plain white sneakers and socks. Gray pants, an industrial feel to them, with a plain white T-shirt on top. No letters and numbers at least. But he might as well admit to himself he’s wearing the very latest in prisoner attire.
Reid goes to the bars, looks out and down. He’s on what looks like the top floor of a bank of cells. The center of the building is empty, a metal rail the only thing between the narrow walkway and a plunge of forty or fifty feet. He tests the bars, giving them a shake, dragging them left and right, but the door stays firmly shut.
So she doesn’t trust him. Fair enough. He sure as hell doesn’t trust her either. Reid’s thoughts immediately go to the others in his pack. To Drew, Emme and Nathan. Joel. He still has a promise to keep, a death to dole out.
His drive to kill the bully hasn’t diminished, so he can no longer blame that blood lust on the dust. Fine. He’ll take full responsibility. But somehow he doesn’t think he’ll lose any sleep over taking that particular life.
Reid’s hyper senses pick up the sound of a metal door opening, and can’t miss the clang as it swings shut again. Footsteps thud on concrete, then ring their way up steel stairs. He leans against the bars, just far enough he can see two men carrying rifles, dressed in camo clothing tromp their way up to the walk and head for Reid’s door.
He backs off as the muzzles of the weapons swing toward him. He doesn’t need to be told what the men want. The first one, his eyes shaded by a pair of mirrored sunglasses and mouth working over a pale toothpick, lets his gun swing to his side from the thick leather strap and pulls out a key while his partner, a black beret on his shaved head, keeps his weapon on Reid at all times.
Neither seems particularly nervous around him and he wonders why. They must know what Reid is.
The key makes a nasty grinding noise in the lock. Sunglasses snarls and slams his hand against the mechanism. That assault does the trick. The tumblers click over and the door slides sideways.
“Stay put.” Beret’s voice is surprisingly high pitched for such a big man. Reid fights a smirk, knowing he’ll only win himself trouble if he says a word. Instead, he holds perfectly still and waits while Sunglasses steps inside the cell.
“Turn around.” Here at least is the deep and gravelly voice Reid expects. Sunglasses has the whole bad guy persona covered.
Reid spins slowly, his back to the two mercenaries. Sunglasses makes short work of a pair of handcuffs. They feel very heavy and thick to Reid, more like shackles. Makes sense. He could probably snap handcuffs now that he is dusted.
“Let’s go.”
They are short on words but long on action. Reid finds himself marching ahead of the two of them, down the stairs they came up, while he looks around. A prison for certain, high, long windows covered in bars shining sunlight down on the empty center. Reid glances over the rail and sees three more floors of cells below him. All empty, from what he can see.
Long way down. No escape there.
Of course he’s still looking for a way out. His brain goes to the possibilities automatically.
Reid and his guards descend two flights of metal stairs, the thick layers of red paint chipping from them with every step. He wonders how Dr. Lund got her hands on an abandoned prison even as he decides he doesn’t care. Nothing she is able to do surprises him anymore.
He is pulled to a halt on the second floor by a sharp jerk on his shackles. His shoulders scream in their sockets, wrists on fire from the harsh metal, but he simply stops and waits for Sunglasses to unlock a large metal door and shove him through.
This is where the sounds are coming from. And the most delicious aromas. He’s been catching hints of those as well, but forced his keen sense of smell to hold off so he can concentrate. He can hear the voices more clearly now, no longer muffled through a thick wall of concrete. Talking, chatter. Even some laughter.
Looks like he’s being taken to join the rest of the pack.
The long corridor has a thick yellow stripe down the middle, scuffed and worn with age, but still visible. Reid follows it with his eyes, all the way to another door up ahead. But this one is wide open and as he approaches it, under the flickering light of banks of fluorescent bulbs above, he sees a large space open before him, lit by even more windows.
It’s not until he walks through that he pinpoints the source of the sounds. What was an echoing mess of noise turns into individual voices. He swivels his head to the left, looks down the rows of heavy gray tables to where the pack sits.
Reid lets his nose go. He can smell food, burgers and fries. Pizza. The scents are so familiar, so tantalizing. He never thought he’d get to have any of those luxuries again. The pack falls silent as he enters, staring at him. He casts one look over them. Sees Emme, Nathan. Billy. Even Joel, grinning at him. Reid stays as calm and level as he can manage, then looks away like they don’t matter. They don’t, not really. Drew isn’t with them. Besides, he can’t let them know he’s worried. Not if he’s to take control of them again.
His stomach immediately demands attention, but he ignores it. His guards aren’t taking him toward the others but through the room and to another door. From the windows above it he knows they are taking him outside. It’s enough for him to forget his hunger.
Reid didn’t realize how uncomfortable he was with being indoors until he is shoved through the swinging door and into the sunlit yard. It’s easy to ignore the roughness of his guards, their arrogance, his need for food and water, when the
sun is on his face and grass swishes between his sneakers where it has broken through the concrete slabs to grow wild and thick.
The air smells so fresh in comparison to the stale mustiness of the building, Reid pauses to fill his lungs. His guards give him another shove. Anger bites him hard but he holds it back. He can’t afford to lose it, not yet.
But when he hears growling, he has to investigate, guards or not. Turns out they’re heading that way so he gets a clear view, one that drives up his blood pressure and sets his temper to explode.
Two dogs face off in the corner of the abandoned yard. A small group of mercenaries stand around them, watching, some laughing. The bullmastiff has massive pounds on the black lab, so much it’s barely a fight. And yet, the smaller dog is holding her own, her lack of size giving her more speed and increased agility.
Minnie. He sees the mastiff lunge for her, hears her yip in pain even while her jaws lock on a chunk of the other dog’s ear and pulls. The mastiff tosses his big head, sending Minnie flying. But when she does, she takes her prize with her. Blood streams from the mastiff’s torn ear, flying in shining crimson droplets as the dog shakes again, jowls sending streamers of drool along for the ride. Minnie gets to her feet, spits out the flesh and snarls.
It’s too much. Reid lunges forward, not caring the guards might shoot him or punish him in some way. He moves so fast they don’t have time to get a hold of him.
“Minnie!” She sees him, runs toward him, darting through the legs of her captors before they can stop her. They shout and chase her, too slow. Reid falls to his knees and bends forward as she licks his face over and over, the last of the mastiff’s blood still on her breath.
Reid is wrenched to his feet but he struggles, lashing out with one foot, feeling something snap under his heel and hearing the cursing cry of his victim. Minnie crouches beside him, growling and snapping, her hackles vibrating, teeth shining in the sunlight.
He turns to the sound of a rifle being cocked. Sunglasses is pointing his weapon at Reid’s head while Beret writhes on the ground, clutching his misshapen knee.
“That was damned stupid, boy.” The rifle muzzle swings down and points at Minnie. “I’m not supposed to kill you unless you put up a struggle. But I can damned sure kill your dog.”
Reid falls to his knees again, guarding her with his body, vibrating in fury but knowing there is nothing he can do.
“That’s enough.” Dr. Lund is there, back in her lab coat, pigtails curling forward in shining black spirals. Her amber eyes are fixed on Reid and she is smiling like she hadn’t drugged him and locked him up only a short time before. Like she cares about him.
Sunglasses keeps his gun on Reid and Minnie. “He busted Danny’s knee, ma’am.”
“And I’ll have you shot where you stand,” she says with honey in her voice, “if you even touch this boy or his pet again.”
It’s said so sweetly, so kindly, like she’s commenting on the pleasant weather or some silly joke that made her smile. It still makes Sunglasses pale, his weapon dropping at last as he backs away. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Why is he shackled?” Her smile finally fades, a flicker of concern mixed with the edge of her anger skimming through her eyes. “I told you to bring him to me. Not treat him like an animal.”
“Commander Rhymer told us he was dangerous.” It comes out sullen, petulant. Reid sees the rest of the men back off, leaving his two guards, one weeping from the pain of his injury, to take the brunt of her wrath.
They are smart to be afraid.
“I am in charge here,” she says. “Give me your hand gun.”
He just stares at her for a long moment.
“Give it to me!” Her madness is showing, flecks of white foam sitting in the corners of her mouth, bright points hot on her cheeks. He fumbles for the holstered weapon, pulls it loose, offers it to her with a shaking hand.
“You will learn to obey orders,” she says. Thumbs off the safety and pulls the trigger. The left lens of his shining glasses shatters outward as blood and tissue fly from his ruined eye. The mercenary collapses to the ground in a silent pile of camo as the sharp echoes of the gunshot ricochet around the concrete yard.
“Or not.” She looks at Beret who stares at her in horror from where he huddles in pain and fear. “Poor baby,” she says. “Did my boy hurt you?”
“No, ma’am. I’m fine, ma’am.” He is shaking and clutching his knee while he stares at the gun in her hand.
The door behind Reid slams open, boots tromp forward. He glances sideways, sees the commanding officer from the helicopter approaching with a storm cloud for a face.
“Good.” Dr. Lund flips the safety back on and drops the gun on Sunglasses’s dead body. “Key?”
Beret points at his fallen comrade, wide eyes flickering from her to the advancing man.
“What the hell is going on?” The commander’s voice is loud and barely contains his vibrating rage.
Dr. Lund ignores him, crossing her arms over her chest while she glares at Beret. It takes a moment for him to understand and even longer for him to drag himself across the short distance to rifle through Sunglasses’s pockets.
“Dr. Lund.” Rhymer’s lean face is tight with excess emotion. But his voice has fallen quiet. “Did you just shoot one of my men?”
She rolls her eyes and sighs. “I’ll be right with you.”
Reid watches the man’s jaw bunch and grind as she steps forward and takes the key from Beret’s trembling hand. She crouches over Reid, tugging at the pressure on his wrists. The shackles fall away as he studies her, his heart gone cold and still as he realizes just how mad she really is. Her eyes lift to his as though she understands what he is thinking. She smiles and pats his cheek again, like a child.
“Are you all right, darling?”
Reid nods, gets up. Takes a moment to examine Minnie. “We both are, thanks.” He smiles back at her, eyes drifting to Rhymer who has gone a further shade of purple.
“Dr. Lund.” It’s clear the man wants to lose his mind but even he is afraid of her it seems. “You have to stop killing my men.”
“He disobeyed me,” she says, pouting. “I must be obeyed, commander.” Her amber eyes fix on him. “At all costs. I’m paying you very well for this. I expect these men of yours to pay better mind.”
He shudders once, his control returning as his cold eyes flicker over Reid as though weighing his importance over the dead man’s. “I’ll make sure they don’t give you any more trouble,” he says. “Just please, no more shooting. Good men are hard to come by.”
“I’m seeing that,” she snaps. “Very clearly.” Dr. Lund turns to Reid and her smile instantly returns, the whole thing gone from her mind as easily as flipping a switch. “Come along, dear,” she says, linking her arm in his. “Bring your sweet doggie with you.”
Reid sees the mercenaries move in as they walk off, hears the commander's orders and Beret’s quiet sobs as the other soldiers gather up the mess and clear it away. Reid wonders why she doesn’t have a bullet in the back of her head and what she could possibly have over the commander that keeps him from assassinating her. No amount of money could be worth it.
Dr. Lund is lost to the mess she made, however, leading Reid on a walk around the rutted yard, her hip-hop black and white sneakers shuffling through the grass like a child’s.
“I wanted to tell you how very proud I am of you and all you’ve done.” She beams up at him, the sun rising in her eyes and charming smile. “I knew you’d find a way to join the family somehow. You were smart enough to figure out how to become one of us without anyone telling you otherwise. Reid, my darling, you’re exactly what I need.”
She sighs, squeezes his arm with her small hands. He can barely stand her touch but has to play along if he ever wants to escape. He has to picture strangling her just to keep his temper in check while her silky black hair slides over his bicep.
“Leaders, Reid. I need leaders.” They pass the spot where Sunglasses
died. Reid forces himself not to look at the red stain on the ground but his peripheral vision picks it up. Minnie pads along beside him, her tongue hanging out as she pants softly in the heat of the sun. “Not just animals with thinking power. Brilliance. Cunning. Planning. Fearless, yes. And intelligent too. I’m afraid the ones I’ve made are lacking.” She shakes her head, hair shining in the bright light. “So disappointing. Until you.” Again she smiles up at him. “And your friends.”
His heart leaps for a moment. She can’t mean his real friends. But she is nodding at his expression.
“Yes, dear. You’ll see them again. I have such great plans for all of you.”
“How did you get away?” It’s been bothering him all along and he didn’t even know it. “From Brackett?”
She snorts delicately. “As if that big idiot even had an inkling of what is possible. Of what I’m capable of.” Her laugh is the ringing of small, cheerful bells. “It was simple. I ran. Much like you. I knew my children would take care of him. Besides, I had to escape so I could return to rescue you.”
Rescue. Right. They have made the final round of the yard and are approaching the door back inside. She stops and faces him, her hands pressed to his chest, amber eyes so clear it’s like he can see into her twisted little soul.
“You have a destiny,” she says. Her excitement would be almost infectious if he didn’t know she is insane. “And it’s time you embrace that.” She turns and pushes open the door, pausing to look back at him. “Are you ready?”
He isn’t, is even more terrified of her now. Not only is she crazy and heartless, she has a charisma he knows the others won’t be able to resist.
Things are suddenly worse than he expected.
***
Chapter Nine
The dim light inside challenges his vision for a moment, long enough for the doctor to slip away and leave him at the door, Minnie still faithfully next to him. He strokes her fur as he watches Dr. Lund walk the length of the cafeteria, all the way to the end where a makeshift stage waits for her, equipped with a podium and all. Reid moves closer, aware of his fellow hunters in front of him, the soldiers moving into position around the doctor and along the walls. He spots the scowling commander and can only imagine how pissed the man still is at Dr. Lund for shooting one of his men.