Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
He releases my hand and draws the knife from the sheath at his waist. “Let’s go take our camp back.”
41
Plant pathogens can share genetic material with each other, even across different species. This sets plants apart from animals because they can quickly acquire new virulence traits or resistance to treatments. This makes them potentially dangerous and unpredictable.
- Excerpt from a lecture given by Dr. Lucinda Hollis in her Plant Evolution course
Niran’s shoulders drop with relief when he sees Marcus.
“Thank fuck,” Niran says, coming over to put a hand on Marcus’s shoulder. He glances at me and says, “Hey, Briar.”
“Hey.”
We just walked down the steep wooden stairs of a small underground bunker about a quarter mile from the shield perimeter. Its entrance door lies flush on the ground, a top layer of dirt, greenery and moss making it impossible to see if you don’t know it’s there.
I glance around the cool, dark space. It’s about ten feet by ten feet, two tall candles on small metal disks providing the only light. The walls are lined with shelves of supplies. Large metal canisters have labels like “Medical Supplies,” “Oats,” and “Rice.” Glass jars with fruits and vegetables are neatly arranged on one wall. Guns and knives take up another entire wall.
“Adele’s getting the switching device,” Marcus says, surveying the shadowed faces around us. “Tell me everything you guys know.”
Stella, Wyatt and Niran all recount the takeover. Wyatt doesn’t know much because he was training at the ring when Nova gave the order to everyone in camp to “hunker down”, which, for Command officers, apparently means evacuate to this bunker if you’re able.
Niran was at the Sub when someone radioed there was fighting near the kitchen.
“By the time I got there, it was a shit show,” he says. “Stark was dead on the ground and Ray had taken Blythe hostage. The prisoners he released were jumping the command and security people, trying to disarm them and tie them up.”
“They disarmed Nova?” Marcus’s tone is incredulous.
“Yeah, because Ray had a knife to Blythe’s throat.”
“Fuck.” Marcus looks away. “I should’ve done something about him. This is my fault.”
“It’s not,” I say. “Focus on now.”
“He’ll pay,” Niran assures Marcus in a level tone.
Stella picks up a piece of paper from the wooden table. “I wrote down everything I could as soon as I got here, while it was all fresh. We had twelve people in holding cells, including McClain. I know seven of them joined Ray and are working against us. And then from our people, I know Darien, Juno and Jax also joined.”
“Darien?” Niran shakes his head. “I’ve always liked him.”
Stella ignores him and continues. “So eleven people, including Ray. Only Nova was carrying a gun, so that’s the only one they have. And I counted four hunting knives. No stun sticks, they’re all locked up.”
Marcus nods. I see why he considers Stella such an asset. The information she gathered is crucial to what we’ll do next.
“I should go back up, Adele,” Niran says. “And do recon.”
“Yeah,” Marcus agrees. “I gave her my gun. Come back within an hour if you can. We need to move as quickly as possible.”
Niran puts on a holster and is choosing his weapons when there’s a creaking noise, sunlight illuminating the space. Someone opened the door.
Marcus’s arm shoots out and he moves me behind him, drawing his knife. I lower my brows over being treated like a damsel in distress, my gun already in hand.
“It’s me.” Adele is breathing hard as she descends the stairs. “I got it.”
Small pieces of her light-blond hair stick out at her temples, just as sweat-soaked as her skin.
“Good work,” Niran says. “I was just about to come offer you a hand.”
“Didn’t need it.” She passes Marcus the device.
He turns off his aromium, then grabs a nearby bucket with one hand and passes me the device with his other. By the time I get my aromium off, he’s bent over the bucket, throwing up.
I hardly feel the usual drain of energy from switching it off, adrenaline making up the difference.
“The fuck, man?” Niran says as he watches Marcus. “Are you okay?”
“This happens every time he switches his aromium off,” I say tightly.
Wyatt, who hardly ever speaks, says, “That seems like a problem.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” I agree.
“Can I fucking puke in peace?” Marcus gripes.
I turn to Adele and ask, “How’s your wound?”
She presses her lips into a thin line. “It hurts, but the stitches are holding. I’m fine.”
Marcus secures two handguns in his holster. He told me to be his voice of reason, and I wish I could do it in private, but it has to be now, in front of the others.
“Every gun we bring into camp is a gun that could end up in their hands,” I say.
He nods and meets my gaze. “They’ll only get these if I’m dead.”