Mercury Striking

  She stopped singing and moaned as sun hit her legs. “Psychics don’t see what isn’t there,” she muttered.

  The woman was losing her mind. He eyed the sparkling mermaids at the bottom of the now full pool. Pretty and shimmering. Without exerting much effort, he ducked and tossed Vivienne into the shallow end of the pool.

  She hit with a splash and then screamed.

  Interesting. Bret studied her. Pain creased into her face in harsh lines. Ah. The chlorine probably burned the raw flesh around her ankle where the shackle had been. He strode to a small table and grabbed a couple of hotel shampoo bottles. Vivienne could sit with her head above the water. Otherwise, with the drugs in her system, she’d probably drown.

  He squirted shampoo into his hand and dropped it on her hair. “Wash yourself.”

  She blinked, confusion filling her face.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have given her another dosage today. He snarled. “Now.”

  She shook her head, obviously trying to concentrate, and lifted her hands to her hair. “Where am I?”

  Yep. Too many drugs. He sighed. “Vegas. Where is Lynne Harmony?”

  “Dunno because you don’t dunno. Dumbass.” All of a sudden, Vivienne’s eyes focused. “I hope I’m there when you die.” She shrugged out of her stained jacket and slowly started scrubbing her hair back to blond.

  He smiled. “I have a destiny to fulfill first. Believe me, you’ll die long before me.” He focused as Lake stepped out of the house. “What?”

  “We reached a rival group in L.A. on the ham. They’re calling themselves Twenty. You’re going to want to hear this,” Lake said.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  A shadow is a slice of reality combined with mystery.

  —Dr. Franklin Xavier Harmony

  Her knees still shaking from listening to Vice President Lake on the ham radio, Lynne followed Jax from the small office into the main war room. Someone had wheeled a whiteboard into the far corner, complete with markers. “Nice,” Lynne breathed.

  Sami rubbed bloodshot eyes. “There was a school a few blocks away, and when we made our home here, we raided the place. Too bad there wasn’t more canned food.”

  Lynne sat next to Sami. Tace sat on her other side, and Raze loped inside to sit next to Lynne.

  Jax shut the door and stood by the whiteboard, grabbing a blue marker. “I’ve asked Lynne to sit in on this meeting because she’ll be going on the mission to Myriad tomorrow morning, which we think is in Century City, based on her calculations. My hope is she’ll see the documents we need to take as well as identify compounds and medical shit to bring back.”

  Lynne clasped her hands on the table. Hopefully she’d find medical shit. Her life had gone crazy. Nobody protested her presence, so she sat back.

  Jax drummed his fingers on the table. “I hope we’re back before the president calls, but if not, Ernie can make the arrangements for a meeting. I want the Myriad information in my hands before we meet.”

  Lynne nodded. “I agree.”

  Jax focused on his soldiers. “This morning I finished hearing reports from all the squadron leaders, so I’m well versed on what’s happening with the entire community. Let’s get your reports out of the way now, starting with Tace.”

  Tace leaned forward, elbows on the table. “We have the one box of vitamin B, and that’ll last through another month. Then we’re in trouble. No current cases of Scorpius. Far as I can tell, and while most don’t admit it, we probably have many survivors of the fever and probably a few hundred who haven’t contracted it yet. The total number of folks in our little slice of heaven is just over five hundred, so I’m totally guessing about statistics.”

  “All right. I’ve heard a couple of rumblings about folks wanting to separate into two communities, one for Scorpius survivors and one for the uninfected. How serious is it?” Jax asked.

  “Not so much yet, because mainly nobody knows who’s been infected and who has not.” Tace shrugged. “That’s a worry for another day, if you ask me.”

  Jax nodded. “Agreed. Is that it for your report?”

  “No. We have several cases of what my doctors think are just colds, ten still wounded by the Twenty attack, and one pregnancy.”

  Jax’s head jerked up. “Who’s pregnant?”

  “Jill Sanderson,” Tace replied.

  Jax frowned. “Which one is she?”

  Tace’s lips turned down. “You should know that, leader. She’s sixteen and helps out with the orphans and the kitchen, very often in the headquarters kitchen right here.”

  Jax went still. “Who knocked up a sixteen-year-old girl?”

  Tace sighed. “A seventeen-year-old boy.”

  “Well, fuck.” Jax scrubbed his whiskered jaw.

  Lynne leaned forward, her heart beating faster. “Have either of them been infected with Scorpius?”

  “I don’t think so,” Tace said, his gaze sharpening. “Why?”

  Lynne swallowed. “We, ah, don’t know of any successful births since Scorpius spread.”

  Jax sat back. “What?”

  She nodded. “Any pregnant woman who contracted Scorpius died, as far as we could track.” She played idly with a pencil, her temples pounding. “Anybody becoming pregnant after surviving Scorpius lost the baby at some point . . . based on medical reports from all over the world.”

  Sami shook her head. “But communications went down so quickly. There might be plenty of pregnant women out there due in a few months.”

  Lynne nodded. “I know.” Scorpius had spread only six months before, so it was too early to really know if a recuperated woman could give birth. “The early results didn’t look good.”

  Jax breathed out. “So you’re telling me Scorpius may kill us off no matter what.”

  “Yes.” Sure, some folks hadn’t been infected, but the bacteria was strong and sturdy and would always be around. “Some of the research into vitamin B focused on successful births, and I’m hoping we find that at Myriad.”

  “Your research just became more important than ever.” Jax glanced around. “For now, where are we on condoms?”

  “Almost out.” Tace shrugged. “We’re almost out of all medical supplies. Hopefully we’ll find some on this mission.”

  Lynne nodded. “We’re going into the heart of Century City, all workplaces and no residences, so it’s possible we’ll find supplies. When the fever hit, it all happened very quickly, and people flocked to their homes. Scavengers and Rippers haven’t been organized, so there are still many places untouched by humans after Scorpius spread.” Hopefully. She cleared her throat, her stomach aching. “Do either of the kids, the ones having the baby, have family here?”

  Tace settled back in his chair. “No. Hardly anybody has family here.”

  Made sense.

  Jax twirled the marker in his hand. “Sami?”

  Sami scratched her wrist. “April is doing a good job directing scavenging missions as well as providing some sort of organization for the civilians in Wyatt’s absence. She’s hurting but is throwing herself into action, which I guess helps.”

  “She’s healing like the rest of us,” Tace said slowly. “Let’s keep her really busy.”

  Sami nodded. “Little Lena is sticking close to her, and since they’ve already bonded, that seems to be helping, too. We’re low on food. Maybe six months’ supply left if we don’t find a way to replenish it.” She played with a chewed-up pencil on the table. “Morale is down. Way down. Wyatt was the counselor, the person everybody went to with problems or issues or just to talk.” She lifted her head, brown eyes burning. “You need to step in with some sort of reassurance.”

  Jax blinked. “Reassurance? About what? We have Twenty regrouping now, two more radical groups in L.A. wanting our resources, the Elite Force on my ass, and a group population where some folks haven’t contracted Scorpius and many other people are carriers of it. What the fuck do you want me to tell them?”

  “Anything,” Sami whispered, her g
aze dropping. “Give them some sort of hope.”

  Bewilderment filled Jax’s eyes along with a healthy dose of anger. “Hope about what?”

  Lynne’s heart hurt. “If you have no hope, why do you fight so hard?”

  Jax switched his powerful gaze to her. “Because there’s something to fight, and those people can’t survive on their own.”

  Lynne blinked. If he didn’t know the people, why fight for them?

  Jax slipped the marker in his pocket. “Wyatt?”

  The room stilled. Pain, nearly palpable, filled the air. Jax cleared his throat. “Sorry. I meant Raze. Report.”

  Raze’s stoic expression didn’t twitch. “Ammunitions are way down. We wasted too many rounds fighting Twenty, and the civilians need better training. Fuel is low, and it’s time to send scouts out with screwdrivers and gas cans.”

  Lynne breathed out. Her uncle had taught her how to pierce a gas can and empty the tank in less than two minutes. “I’m actually pretty good at that.”

  Raze lifted an eyebrow.

  Jax shook his head. “We need you on the Myriad documents and materials once we get them. Your brain is the key to Scorpius, and that has to be your focus.”

  Her concentration was on getting the hell out of the area before Bret showed up. “I understand,” she murmured.

  “Good. Tace and Sami, you can stay for the briefing if you want, but you’re remaining here to secure the compound tomorrow morning.” Jax took the lid off the blue marker. “Raze, Lynne, and I will scout Myriad. I think we should take Byron. The kid’s a genius with computer stuff, and maybe he’ll see some wires or components we could use.”

  Raze nodded. “I’ll have him suited up and mentally prepared.”

  Tace tapped his fingers on the table. “Byron is the father of the baby, by the way.”

  So much for being a genius.

  Jax snarled. “And he couldn’t figure out to sheathe his dick? For fuck’s sake. We trust that kid with the ham radio.”

  “He’s seventeen,” Raze said simply.

  Lynne winced. “You should probably talk to him, Jax. Reassure him that it’s okay. He’ll need that, as will Jill.”

  Jax lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not his mom.”

  “His mom is probably dead,” Lynne shot back.

  Jax turned toward the board, anger vibrating down his back. “My focus is strategy. We leave at first light, so let’s get a plan in our heads.” He began to draw.

  Jax left Lynne with Sami to eat what looked like broth and smelled like old socks. The cooks did their best, but spices had run out eons ago. At some point, he was going to have to move them all north to a place where they could both farm and hunt. In L.A., the only thing to hunt was people. For now, he had a seventeen-year-old’s ass to kick. As much as he hated it, with Wyatt gone, he had to talk to the kids—at least the ones working in headquarters.

  He found Byron in the back storage room near the ham radio, cutting apart wires that might’ve gone to a speaker at some point. “What the holy fuck were you thinking?” Jax exploded, slamming the door behind him.

  Byron jumped, and his wire cutters spun across the room. Swallowing audibly, he stood. “I wasn’t.”

  Jax coughed out a laugh. “That’s fucking obvious.”

  The kid kept his gaze, although his body was braced to stand up to somebody bigger and meaner. At seventeen, he was about five foot nine with sandy hair and skinny arms. “I love her.”

  Oh God. Fucking goddamn fucking kids. Jax leaned back against the door and tried to cool his temper. “If you love her,” he began evenly, “you’d protect her and not knock her up when we’re in a fucking war. Do you have any idea how vulnerable you’ve made her?” The irony of the question wasn’t lost on him. He’d been worse than a horny teenager the other night with Lynne and hadn’t taken precautions.

  The idea of her being pregnant weakened his knees, but she’d been pretty sure of her cycle. Thank God.

  “Yes.” Terror filled Byron’s eyes. “I know exactly how vulnerable I’ve made Jill. Them.” His shoulders slumped. “She’s all I’ve got.”

  Oh, man. Jax rubbed his chin, his gut churning. “Not true. You have more than her.” A baby. So far, the youngest survivor they’d brought in was at least six years old. Where the fuck was he going to find baby food? “You have all of us, but get this.” He stepped in and looked down. “You are now responsible for both her and the baby. There’s no finding somebody else, no thinking it’s too much, no trying to escape. They. Are. Yours.”

  “I know.” Byron slid his glasses up his nose.

  Jax breathed out. “Good. Have either you or Jill been infected by Scorpius?”

  “Yeah. We’ve both survived it.” Byron frowned. “Why?”

  Well, shit. No need to scare the kid yet, and Jax didn’t have to wonder about sequestering Jill from Scorpius exposure now. “Just asking. You’re coming on the mission tomorrow morning, scouting for shit like this.” He gestured around. “Then you train every day for two hours in hand-to-hand, guns, and knives. Every day.”

  Byron swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Yes.”

  “You just said good-bye to your childhood, kid.” Jax turned and opened the door.

  “Jax?”

  “What?” Jax asked, not turning around.

  “I said good-bye to my childhood when I buried my parents and baby sister five months ago,” Byron said.

  Jax closed his eyes. “I know,” he said softly, exiting the room. He checked on Tace in the infirmary and then stalked into what passed for a kitchen to find Jill Sanderson scrubbing a pot while several others cleaned and put away dishes. He recognized her when he saw her. Long black hair, dark eyes, Korean features. Tiny girl—too tiny. He cleared his throat. “Jill? I’d like a moment, please.”

  Her eyes widened and she dropped the pot. Terror crossed her face.

  Manny turned around, suds up to his elbows, hands in another pot. “Leave her alone.”

  Jax sighed out. “She doesn’t need a mother hen, Manny. Trust me.”

  Manny took his measure, eyes sober, and then he nodded at Jill. “Go with Jax, sweetheart. If he’s mean to you, I’ll kill him in his sleep.”

  Jax wanted to smile, but Manny was probably telling the truth. “Follow me.” He turned and crossed through the rec room/dining hall to the small war room.

  Jill followed him, not making a sound, and then took a seat at the table, her gaze down.

  He faltered and shut the door, dragging a chair to sit on. Wyatt would normally do this shit, but Wyatt was gone. The sharpness of the pang in Jax’s heart caught his breath. He slowly released his lungs. “Are you all right?” he asked quietly.

  Her head lifted, and her lips trembled. “Yes?”

  That’s what he’d figured. “Listen, honey. I just want to make sure you’re feeling okay and you know you can reach out if you need help. I’ve never had a kid, so I can’t offer advice, but a lot of people here have, and you might need help. I’ll find baby food somewhere.” They had nine months, right?

  She nodded, her hands clinging to each other. Tears filled her eyes. “We didn’t mean to.”

  Yeah. Words spoken by teens for eons. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable as hell. “Well, you know how it happened? Right?”

  Her head jerked, and she giggled. She slapped a hand over her mouth, but mirth filled her eyes.

  “Jill?” he asked.

  She moved her hand, her face pinkening even more. “I know about sex, Jax. We had classes on it and everything.”

  Now heat filled his face. He cleared his throat. “Um, okay. Good.” Did he have to worry about sex education for the younger kids? He rubbed the back of his aching neck. Tension. Too much tension. “I just, ah, wanted you to know that you weren’t alone. You’ll be okay. You and the baby.”

  “I know. I love Byron. It’ll be fine.”

  Nothing was going to be fine, and young love was about to make Jax’s life a lot more difficult. “All rig
ht. Good talk.” He stood and walked to the doorway, where he turned around. “Do you mind if I ask why you looked so terrified when I wanted to talk to you?”

  She bit her lip and shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just, that, well, I don’t know you. I just see you with guns and knives telling people what to do.” She smiled. “But now I’m not scared of you.”

  “Okay.” He opened the door, his mind reeling. “Make sure you up your rations of dried milk and protein. I think you need more of that stuff now.”

  She nodded. “Okay. Thanks, Jax.”

  Jax left the room, rubbing his chest. God, he missed Wyatt.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The next world war will be between man and nature. Nature has never lost.

  —Dr. Franklin Xavier Harmony

  Jax topped off the disastrous talk with horny teenagers by scouting outside and making sure his barriers were in place. When Los Angeles had begun to fall to looters and survivalist gangs, he’d immediately gathered any allies he could find and had taken over the food distribution center with the crappy slum apartments next to it. He’d sent groups to gather weapons, fuel, and medicines. Then he’d created two surrounding lines of defense, the first with downed Mack trucks, and then an inner circle of overturned minivans. They’d spiraled inward, creating barriers as they went.

  The air was cool but finally dry. He checked the line, signaled to the guards at post, and finally reached the eastern end, where a truck met headquarters. Marvin padded by, turned his massive head, studied Jax, and then moved on. Obviously he’d already eaten.

  Raze leaned against the brick wall, odd blue eyes cutting through the darkness. “That’s a lion. A real lion.”

  Jax nodded. “Name is Marvin.”

  Raze shook his head. “Marvin. How was the heart-to-heart with the kids?”

  “Completely sucked.” Jax noted Raze’s alertness even while lounging. “How good are you, anyway?”