Alone (25 page)

“Come here after three. Ask for Mike.”

I take the paper and turn away.

Two doors down, I duck inside a noisy bar and find an empty table. It’s dark and smoky inside. The perfect place to sit if I want to be ignored. A waitress comes over to take my order, but since I’m not from Atlanta I don’t have any credits. Thankfully, she’s willing to take four cigarettes in exchange for a beer. I’m pretty sure she just ripped me off, but I’m too jittery to even care.

I take a big gulp of the beer but hardly taste it. It should be a treat since Rick doesn’t allow alcohol inside Coastal Manor—other than the stash he has in our house, that is—but it doesn’t relax me the way I thought it would.

Instead, I smoke.

When I’m sure no one is paying attention, I open the paper. It’s a flyer just like the first one the guy tried to give me, only this one has an address scrawled across the bottom. That’s it.

I have over an hour to wait.

I exchange my last two cigarettes for directions and make it to the apartment building just after three, very aware of how close to my deadline I’m getting. As long as this guy can help me get the vaccine in a decent amount of time, I’ll be okay. Assuming the stuff I have left in my pack is sufficient for the trade.

The building is silent when I head inside, which isn’t a surprise since it’s the middle of the night. I take another glance at the apartment number as the elevator goes up, moving so slowly that it feels like it’s never going to get there. By the time the door opens on the third floor, I’m tapping my foot so fast you’d think I drank five cups of coffee.

The third floor needs some new light bulbs. It’s so dark I have trouble seeing the numbers on the doors, and one of the few working bulbs flickers constantly, making it twice as challenging. I move swiftly, blinking with the flashing light as I scan the doors.

I’m halfway down the hall when two guys step out of an apartment in front of me, and I freeze. One is only a year or so older than I am. Asian. Missing his left arm. The other guy is older, but no more than twenty-five. His dirty blond hair is a little on the long side, and his gray eyes snap with intelligence and a little bit of danger when they meet mine. Like a barely concealed storm rages inside him.

“You lookin’ for somebody?” the older guy says, his gray eyes boring through me.

Should I tell them? I step back, but they just close the gap. Shit. I’m kind of backed into a corner here.

“Mike,” I say as moisture collects in my pits. My fingers itch to grab my knife, but I hold off and wait.

They trade a look that I can’t read in the darkness of the hall, and a second later, the Asian guy opens the door they just stepped out of. “Someone here for Mike,” he says to whoever’s inside.

I move forward, squirming under the intense gray eyes of the other guy.

“You ain’t from here.”

“No,” I say, not looking at him. “I live in a different building.”

“Not what I meant.”

I just nod.

When I reach the door, the Asian guy steps aside. A woman in her late twenties stands in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy shorts and a tank top so small it leaves little to the imagination. And she’s centerfold hot. Seriously, Hugh Heffner would have signed this chick in an instant.

She raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms over her chest. Glaring at me. “What now?”

“I’m looking for Mike,” I say even though the Asian guy already covered it.

The blonde flips her hair over her shoulder as her glare moves past me to the two guys still standing in the hall. “I guess sleep is something only the lucky get.”

“Not our fault,” the Asian guy says, grinning. I guess he’s immune to her glare.

She just rolls her eyes as she steps aside, motioning for me to enter.

I do, but nearly pull my knife when the two men step in behind me.

Shit. This can’t be good.

The guys don’t say a word, and even though I’m sweating like crazy under the gray eyes of the older one, I keep my knife where it is. For now.

“Mike!” the woman yells as she throws herself down on the couch.

She continues to glare, and between her expression and the silent presence of the two men behind me, I can’t stand still. I shuffle my feet, my only comfort the cool metal of my gun against my hip and the knife in my back pocket.             

Mike comes into the living room wearing nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants. His blond hair is wet like he just got out of the shower, and he lets out a little yawn. When he sees the two guys standing there his eyebrows shoot up, but apparently I don’t surprise him, because he just nods.

“What’s up, man?” he says, acting like we’re old friends. “So how’d you find me? I’ve never seen you at the club before. I don’t get new guys too often.”

I glance back to find a pair of gray eyes on me.

Here goes nothing.

“I’m not from Atlanta. I took a wild guess.”

His eyebrows move higher. “Nice guess.”

He sounds like he doesn’t believe a word I’m saying, and when the guy with the gray eyes takes a step forward, I start sweating even more. If they think I’m working for the government, I’m toast.

“You stick out like a sore thumb.” I point at the scuffed, holey shoes of the two dudes standing next to me. “Nobody has shoes that nice these days. You need to work on that.”

Mike laughs and the woman scowls, and my fingers twitch. If only I had a cigarette.

“Don’t matter,” Mike says, dropping onto the couch next to his girl. “Half of the guards are my customers.”

Looks like I had found the right guy.

The guy with the gray eyes steps forward. “What you lookin’ for?”

Behind him, the Asian guy doesn’t move. He has a little smirk on his face that for some reason reminds me of Mac. Shit. I have to get moving. Have to get him and then get to Coastal Manor. Have to get to Jules.

Sweat runs down my back.

“Good question,” Mike says. “What brings you all the way to Atlanta? Pot, guns, cigarettes, gas?”

I swipe my hand across my forehead when more moisture builds there. Damn. Why the hell is it so hot in here?

Here goes nothing
. “I need the vaccine.”

Gray-eyes swears, and the Asian guy’s smile disappears. On the couch, the woman tenses, while Mike presses his lips together.

“That’s a pretty big request,” Mike says after a few seconds of tense silence.

He doesn’t say it’s impossible, so I take that as a good sign. Maybe if I play on his ego it will save us some time. “So you can’t get it?”

Mike tilts his head to the side, and I don’t miss it when he glances toward the two guys behind me. “Didn’t say that. It’s just a pretty big thing to ask someone you’ve just met. You must be pretty desperate.”

I want to laugh. “I’ve got less than fourteen hours to get back to Hilton Head so my girlfriend doesn’t turn into a damn zombie. Yeah, I’m pretty desperate.”

Mike’s expression softens, and behind me, someone swears. When I turn and meet the eyes of the guy behind me, I have to blink three times. That can’t be sympathy, can it?

“What can you give me for it?” Mike says, sitting forward.

I pull off my pack and toss it to him. There isn’t much left, but I’ll give him a kidney if he wants it.

The other two guys head over, and together they sift through my stuff. Guess they have something to do with the black market too. No wonder they stuck around.

My stomach lurches when Mike frowns, only growing queasier when the Asian guy shakes his head. Shit. If I don’t have anything to trade, that means I’m going to have to do something drastic. Four people against just me. Not great odds, but if I grab the girlfriend I can probably make it happen.

I take a step closer to the couch, putting less distance between myself and the blonde.

“Not much,” Mike mumbles. “Lighters and matches and batteries are all useful things, but not that hard to come by in the city.” He looks up, and I can see it in his eyes before he says it. “It isn’t enough.”

I squeeze my eyes closed and cover my face with my hands. There are two options: take the girlfriend hostage or give up. Both of them make me feel like I’m going to hurl.

Not that I have a choice.

The three men are still digging through my stuff when I pull my hands away from my face, so none of them notice when I slip my hand behind my back. The gun is out before I have a chance to talk myself out of it, and then I’m moving. Grabbing the woman, pulling her up, putting her body between me and danger while I press the barrel against her head.

“What the hell!” she screeches right in my ear.

“I’ll shoot her if you don’t give it to me.”

Three pairs of eyes snap my way, and I poise my finger over the trigger so they know I mean it.

Mike lets out a sigh and tosses my bag on the table. “You could have just told me you had a gun. I’ll trade you for the gun.” His voice is perfectly calm.

That isn’t how I expected him to respond.

My gaze flies back and forth between the three men while I try to figure out what just happened. In front of me, the woman’s body is totally relaxed.

She isn’t afraid.

And neither is anyone else.

“What did you say?”

“The gun,” Mike says.

“Ain’t allowed to have weapons in the city,” the gray-eyed dude says.

He heads my way and I tense, but for some reason I can’t move. When he pulls the blonde woman out of my grasp, I let it happen. She flops back on the couch and huffs like me holding a gun to her head was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

Mike pats her leg. “The gun is worth ten vials of that shit.”

“I only need one.” I lower my gun.

Maybe I’m being naïve. Maybe they’re just saying it so I’ll hand the gun over and they can kill me. But I’m out of options when I hold the gun out to him.

“Keep it to yourself and take a seat.” Mike waves his hand toward the couch as he gets up. “We have a couple things to discuss.”

I sit in an armchair as far away from Mike’s girlfriend as possible. The gun in my lap. My hands shake, and I clench them into fists so she can’t see. I can’t believe I’d been willing to shoot her, but I was. I would have done it without blinking an eye.

Mike heads into the other room with the other two guys, the three of them talking in hushed tones. Even though they should be ready to beat the shit out of me, no one seems that pissed off. I guess desperation is something they understand.

“Sorry about your girlfriend.” I lift my head to find the blonde woman watching me, but she isn’t glaring anymore. “You want something to drink? It’s going to be an hour or two.”

I shake my head as I try to find my voice. “Thanks, anyway.”

She shrugs, and we go back to sitting in silence.

Mike comes back, dressed and wearing his shiny shoes, and he and the other two guys head out, none of them saying a word to me. I settle into the chair, feeling…odd. Like everything is moving in slow motion or I’m stuck in a dream. I’m sweating and having a tough time keeping my eyes open. Maybe I should get some sleep.

I’ve just started to doze off when the front door opens and Mike steps in. He’s alone and frowning.

I sit up straight. “You couldn’t get it.”

He puts his hands up. “Don’t start shooting. We can get it, but it’s going to be awhile. The CDC doesn’t open until seven. But don’t worry. You came to the right place. Axl has a contact on the inside.”

Axl? Must be one of the guys who was here before. The one with gray eyes, probably. He looks like an Axl.

“So I’ll have it soon? I’m cutting it close as it is.” Really close. I do the math, and the hope I’ve been holding onto starts to seep out of my body. Shit. “There’s nothing you can do to get it sooner?”

“Sorry man,” Mike says, and I believe him. “I wish there was.”

I rest my elbows on my knees and put my face in my hands. This is it. This is the end. No more Jules.

No more me.

The weight of it threatens to crush me.             

“You got a place to stay?” Mike’s girlfriend asks.