Hybrid Zone Recognition (16 page)

“They are all around us,” he said without concern. At the look of alarm on my face, he explained, “They won’t find us in this vehicle.”

“Super shielding impenetrable to even the most advanced sensors?” I jokingly asked.

“Something like that,” he snorted.

I gasped and looked down again as Michaels set fire to my knees. I thought for sure I’d see him cauterizing my wounds, but he was only cleaning them for real now. That knowledge didn’t make them burn any less. I gave him credit for moving quickly from one task to the next without hesitation, but I was deducting points for the burning.

“You’ve done this before,” I said through clenched teeth. “The medic bit, I mean.” I could have been referring to all of the other things we’d just been through. He didn’t look like a novice there, either.

“A time or two,” he said without looking up. “Some of these will require sutures, but I prefer not to sew while moving.”

“I prefer not to be in need of sewing,” I retorted.

“You and me both,” he agreed.

Hmmm, sweet relief. Whatever kind of gel he was putting on now must have had some numbing medication in it. I sighed audibly as the pain edged off. Looking down, I watched as he held one large gauze pad firmly against my knee and then began securing it with adhesive wrap. The circular motion his hands were making with the wrap were too much for my stomach, and I looked out the front window instead.

Olivia was cutting a path through what was little more than a game trail. Tree branches were roughly slapping the vehicle on all sides as we passed, but no one seemed worried, and I was too tired to worry for them.

“Where are we going?” I asked Michaels.

“Safe House,” he answered as he wrapped the other knee. “It will take a while, especially the way we are going. When I finish, you should get some rest.”

“Sure,” I replied, though I didn’t think I would be able to with all the jerking and noise.

“What is your name?” I asked suddenly, causing him to look at me with the frown on his face again. “It’s my mission for today,” I elaborated. “I know your last name is Michaels. Assuming that is your real name.”

“It’s Adam.”

“Adam Michaels?”

He nodded.

“Mission accomplished.” A quick smile played on his lips, and I slowly closed my eyes. “So tell me, Adam Michaels, what you could possibly do to top this first date.”

“It’s our second, actually,” he corrected.

I opened one eye and squinted at him.

“Our first was your detainment roughly two days ago.”

Had it been two days already? Seemed more like a month.

“Macy.”

Someone was jiggling my chin. It was very annoying.

“Macy.”

This time I identified the offender’s voice. It was Michaels.

“Macy, open your eyes.”

He was so bossy. I figured I had better do what he said before he moved on to something more drastic than jiggling my chin.

I opened my eyes and was greeted by his glowing green ones about an inch from my face. Startled, I jerked backwards, and my head ricocheted off the back of my chair right into his forehead.

“Ow-wa!” I said angrily, making it a two syllable word.

He leaned back slightly while eyeing me sternly, as if this was my fault.

I returned his glare, softly rubbing my forehead with my newly bandaged hands. When did that happen?

“That is not how you wake someone up,” I said sharply. I did not need another knot to go with the pair I already had.

“Duly noted,” he said in clipped tones.

I tried to continue returning his glare, but my eyes were so heavy, and I closed them again.

“Macy, I need to take your jacket off.”

Couldn’t he just let me sleep? “Kay,” I slurred, leaning forward.

I felt him maneuver the jacket from my shoulders and begin to pull my arms out of the sleeves. That was all I knew until the fire wash was applied to my arms. My eyes flew open, and I felt a rush of nausea.

“I think I’m gonna hurl,” I warned him.

He held the bag in front of my face just in time. He also managed to pull my hair out of the way. How I could have anything in my stomach to throw up was amazing to me. I hadn’t eaten in a long time. My head hurt too much to do the math.

“All done?” he asked, amusement ringing in his voice.

I held out the barf bag as my response.

Slowly, I leaned back into my chair. The nausea seemed to have dissipated with the emptying of my stomach.

“Why are you always amused at my discomfort?” I asked crankily.

“I am not amused at your discomfort,” he said, letting go of my hair, which had long ago abandoned the bun and was now flowing wild and free. “However, the way in which you enact your discomfort makes you a very entertaining creature. I don’t think I have had a single dull moment with you.” He disposed of the barf bag and sat back down.

“Look who’s talking,
Catman
. You’re the one who looks like a hero in some paranormal romance novel.”

Laughter echoed around the cabin from everyone but him. He simply stared at me with the raised eyebrow and then proceeded with the form of torture he called bandaging my wounds.

A few minutes passed, in which I endured my torture like a good soldier, before he inquired about my status again.

“Are you still dizzy or nauseous?”

“No, just really tired, and there’s some serious pounding going on in my head. Do I have a concussion?”

“Probable. More concerning, however, is the blood loss. We were discussing the pros and cons of a blood transfusion.”

They were? I missed that discussion. And had I lost that much blood? Blood loss would certainly explain why I was so tired and foggy brained.

“What was the consensus?” I asked.

“Three to one in favor of the transfusion.”

I wondered who was against it. “Am I in danger of dying?”

“Possibly. But I am not a medical doctor.”

That was what you wanted to hear from the one patching you up.

“What kind of doctor are you then?”

I saw him look over at Juarez who shrugged. “What do you think, Olivia?”

My eyes found Olivia’s in the rear view mirror. I was sure she was trying to read my emotions at that very moment.

“She’s got to know at some point. I’m not sure there is any time that is more favorable than another. Now might be better, if you consider her lack of energy for arguing.”

That was rude, though accurate. I didn’t have the strength to argue right now.

“But there is also the possibility that she will not remember any of this, and you’ll have to do it again.”

That was also accurate, but just as rude. It was also rude that they were discussing me like I wasn’t present. Again.

“Look at me,” I demanded weakly.

He secured the wrap on the arm he was working on and then lifted his eyes to mine.

Leaning forward, I put as much intensity into my voice as I could muster. “Do not lie to me. If, for whatever reason, you don’t want to tell me, then don’t. But do not lie to me. I hate lies.”

Message delivered, I slumped back in my seat. That little bit of effort exhausted me and elevated the alarm I was feeling at my condition. This kind of tired was not normal.

“For the record, I wasn’t considering
lying
to you.” His eyes flashed with anger, and his voice conveyed the resentment he felt at my implication. “I was considering the potential risk, given your current condition, of telling you now.”

Why would my condition even be a factor, unless this was going to be some kind of shock to my system? I, for one, had digested my fill of shock for the day. That reminded me, I still needed to talk to him about what I’d learned from the file and my suspicions.

“Listen,” I sighed, “is this going to be some kind of big revelation something?”

He fastened the wrap on what I hoped was the final bandage of the day. “You could say that.”

“Then let me make this easy for you. Not that I am opposed to world altering revelations, but it is becoming more and more difficult to focus, and I need to talk to you about the Agency before I pass out again.”

He surveyed his work, methodically looking me over, then met my eyes. “Alright,” he sharply nodded. “We’ll wait until you are more stabilized.”

He started gathering the used medical supplies into a plastic bag and, somewhat distractedly, prompted me to continue. “What did you need to talk to me about regarding the Agency?”

“The impending world hybridization.”

He remained silent, his attention focused on the trash bag he was securing.

“There’s a very simple fix.”

This time he did pause, looking up and piercing me with his green eyes. They were kind of mesmerizing, actually.

“Which is?” he asked with upraised eyebrows.

Oh, right. I hadn’t answered yet.

I noticed the constant tapping coming from Juarez’s side of the vehicle had ceased and that my knees were hurting again. Well, actually, only one of them. I opened my eyes to find he had ahold of my left ankle, jiggling my leg. Dang it, I must have drifted off again.

“Macy, what’s the solution?” He asked, his voice insistent.

I had better get this out fast before I nodded off again. “Reprogram the nanobots with a kill switch. Such as when they come into contact with a certain chemical, or temperature, radio frequency, whatever. You get the picture?” I asked hopefully.

“Killing the nanobots will halt the progression,” he rightly concluded.

“Correct,” I mumbled groggily, then added, “If you really want to get fancy, you could reprogram the nanobots for complete reversal and then terminate them.”

Michaels nodded at Juarez who began tapping furiously on the keys.

“Can I sleep now?”

“One more thing.” He leaned forward and placed one hand on each of my thighs. “We need to talk about the possibility of a blood transfusion. If it becomes necessary for you to have one, I will see to it that it happens.”

I didn’t follow the concern in his expression. Blood transfusions happened all the time. It wasn’t like it was open heart surgery.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because there could be side effects,” he said stiffly.

Side effects? Because of blood? Then it clicked. No, because the nanobots were in the blood. “You mean hybrid side effects?”

“Yes, and there is no going back.”

I looked into his face with his bright green eyes, pointed ears, and sharp canines. Would being a hybrid be so bad? Being a hybrid surely was better than dead, especially if I could change at will. But, then I noted that he hadn’t changed back.

“Why haven’t you changed back?” I asked.

“It takes a large amount of energy for the transformation, and I don’t know when I’ll get to refuel or if there will be a need for me to be in this form before we arrive at the safe house.”

Refuel? Who talked like that? “By refuel, do you mean eat?”

I could see the consternation on his face as he put together where I was going with this.

“Yes,” he replied cautiously.

“But you can change at will?”

“Yes,” he said again even more slowly.

“So, you are telling me, that I would get to eat huge quantities of food, which I could burn off by shifting forms?” I was not seeing a downside to this. This sounded like the greatest thing in the world.

“That’s one way to look at it,” he said reproachfully. “But only you would look at it that way.”

I started laughing, softly at first. “I’m in.”

He removed his hands from my thighs and straightened in his chair. Crossing both arms over his chest, he frowned at me.

“I am so in,” I snorted through my laughter.

Chapter 11

I
suddenly became alert, startled awake
by loud pinging sounds on my right. It took me a few moments to recall where I was. Groggily, I realized that I had lost consciousness again.

“What’s going on?” I croaked. My throat was dry and my voice sounded gravelly. I forcibly cleared my throat and asked again, but no one bothered to answer me. I didn’t have the energy to ask again.

My eyes flew open again when another round tapped across the vehicle. I could hear the others having a rapid conversation, but I only caught bits and pieces—something about there was only two of them. I thought Juarez said they weren’t supposed to be able to find us.

The next thing I knew, I was stretched out on the floor of the middle isle. Olivia was gazing down at me. “She’s so pale,” I heard her whisper. “If you are going to do it, now’s the time.”

I tried to force my eyes to stay open, but they wouldn’t obey me. I was so tired. Pale meant blood loss, right? They must be talking about the transfusion again, and he must be hesitant. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have to urge him to do it.

I realized someone was holding my hand, and I squeezed as hard as I could. “I prefer alive.” It was barely a whisper. I wasn’t sure if I’d actually said it out loud, until I felt the breath of his reply against my cheek.

“As do I,” he gently uttered.

Somewhere in my brain, I registered the pinch on my arm, and then everything faded to black.

I opened my eyes to find myself still in my previous prone position. Directly in front of me, I could see Olivia back in the driver’s seat and Michaels occupying the passenger seat next to her. They were deep in conversation about something.

“Hello, Beautiful.”

I turned my head in the direction of the voice. It belonged to Pike who was smiling down at me from what was previously my seat.

“How long was I out?” I asked softly.

“Approximately six hours,” Michaels answered as he came and knelt by my side. He brushed the hair off my forehead and gently probed the knots still there. “How are you feeling?”

My stomach picked that moment to growl loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Hungry?” I offered sheepishly.

Michaels smiled as he extended his hand to me. Placing his free hand against my back, he said, “Think you can sit up long enough to eat?”

Did he realize who he was talking to?

I placed my bandaged hand in his, and he helped me to sit up. I was pleasantly surprised by the decrease in pain. Overall, I felt a lot better. I wasn’t at a hundred percent. My head still hurt and my body ached all over, but I didn’t feel like I was in danger of passing out again. Until I stood up.

“Whoa,” I said and grasped Michaels arm. He helped me to my seat without commenting, but the look on his face telegraphed his worry.

“I’m okay,” I assured him and looked down at my hands. “Hey, did you change these?” I asked, studying my new wraps.

“While you were firmly out, I took the liberty of patching you up for real.”

I looked up as Pike approached. He held out a tray of food to me, but Michaels was the one who took it from his hand. Michaels then speared Pike with a glare until he slowly retreated backwards down the aisle.

As soon as Pike sat down, Olivia cut her eyes angrily to him. She was upset with him, too. I wondered what he had done to upset both of them.

Michaels placed the tray in my lap, and I turned my attention back to him. He had retaken the seat opposite me. After he removed the plastic wrap from the tray, I reached for the sandwich, but he stopped me.

“This first,” he said, holding out a newly opened nutrition bar of some kind.

My face contorted in revulsion. I was sure it tasted like cardboard. When I looked at the sternness of his expression and the set of his jaw, I knew that, sadly, there would be no negotiations. Reluctantly, I took the bar from him and sniffed it. It had no discernible smell. That couldn’t be good.

“So, how many stitches?” I asked in an attempt to distract myself from the unpleasant task I was about to undertake. Wow, never thought I would define eating in those terms.

“I stopped counting after a hundred,” he said casually.

I looked at him sharply. There was no hint of teasing. I shouldn’t have been shocked. I already knew it was bad. Nearly dying from blood loss had told me that much. I was sure he hadn’t given me the transfusion for the fun of it.

Bringing the bar to my lips, I forced myself to take a bite. I knew when I started chewing that I was right—cardboard. Correction, dry as a desert cardboard. I struggled to swallow the grainy mix.

“Could I have some water with my cardboard?” I asked sarcastically.

I took the bottle from his outstretched hand. He’d been kind enough to open it for me. All this help was sort of making me feel like an invalid. And, what was with the lights? I didn’t remember the cabin being so dark.

Lowering the water bottle, I asked, “Why is it so dark in here?”

“If you’ll look out the front window, you’ll notice we are no longer travelling via terra firma.”

I leaned to the side and almost dropped the water bottle. We were under water. “There’s fish swimming by us,” I exclaimed.

“Nothing gets by you, Greer.”

He was clearly mocking my confusion. Granted, it wasn’t the cleverest thing I’d ever said.

I swallowed the last bite of the bar and picked up the sandwich. As I ate, I considered this latest development. I was riding in a submersible. No, a SUV that turned into a submersible. Whatever this Organization was, it didn’t include a lack of funds. That much was for sure.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“We’re in a tributary in North Carolina.” He looked down at his watch. “We still have a few hours to go before we reach the safe house.”

“That’s a long tributary, isn’t it?” I questioned.

“It’s made longer because we are proceeding at a pace that will not draw the notice of anyone who happens to be watching. The tributary’s not all that deep at this time of year,” he shrugged. “It’s a much slower pace than I would prefer.”

As far as I knew, the only ones watching us were the Consortium. “Are you implying there are other bad guys besides the Consortium?” I asked him.

“There is never a shortage of those intent on accomplishing their goals at the expense of others. But currently, I did mean mainly the Consortium.”

Mainly? That was a no and a yes in one sentence.

“Is that what all the commotion was about before? When I heard the pinging sounds? They were shooting at us?”

He nodded in response.

“So how come they found us? I thought Juarez said they wouldn’t be able to.”

He glanced briefly at Juarez and then tilted his head to the side and looked down. The expression on his face indicated he was concentrating on something. No, not concentrating, listening. He was listening for something and not answering the question.

I leaned a little sideways and peered at the front of the cabin where Olivia and Pike were. They were both silent. I looked to Michaels for understanding. He gave a quick shake of his head. O-Kay, didn’t know what that was about.

“Are we still being followed?” I ventured carefully.

“Not currently,” he said, studying Juarez who was now facing us. “But they are always searching.”

“Michaels can you come here a minute?” Olivia called.

He unbelted his seatbelt and made his way to the front where whispering ensued between the three of them.

Juarez leaned forward over his desk and spoke to me in a tight whisper. “We did have two Furries that managed to track us after we’d entered the SubV, but I took care of them.”

“By yourself?”

“Just me, myself and I,” he said humbly.

I couldn’t help but smile. I liked Juarez. He had one of those personalities that made a person feel totally at ease, like I’d known him all my life instead of only a few days.

“That’s quite impressive,” I said. I knew that Michaels had been with me a lot, and I figured that Olivia hadn’t participated in the fighting. “Where was Pike during the fight?” I asked.

“In the wrong place at the wrong time,” he said sourly.

Inwardly, I sighed. I knew there was more to the story, but my life was filled with enough drama as it was. I didn’t need or want anymore. Ignoring my natural instinct to get to the bottom of things, I asked about something else he’d said. “What does SubV stand for?”

He immediately flashed me a grin. “Short for a submersible that is also a SUV. SubV,” he said proudly.

“Did you have something to do with its creation?”

His eyes seemed to glaze over as he lovingly stroked the desk carousel that surrounded him. “This area is all mine,” he purred.

Men and their toys. I wasn’t sure my eye roll could have been any bigger, but he was too busy loving his desk to catch it. I could understand his affection a little, given my love for my truck. But he was talking about a computer, not a motorized vehicle.

Computers were not high on my list of things to praise. They ranked somewhere below green peas and grout cleaner. Both were beneficial to humans and maybe even necessary, but definitely not worth a love fest.

I couldn’t keep my lip from curling as I watched his prolonged display. I must be seriously missing something about computers, and I really had no interest in finding out what that was. Switching gears before I vomited again, I turned to the one last thing that bore commenting.

“North Carolina’s awfully close to Tennessee.” At Juarez’s blank look, I explained why that was significant. “The location of Mr. Randall’s report.”

His hands stilled on the keyboard. “That it is,” he agreed but provided no further explanation, which upped my curiosity even further.

Had Mr. Randall actually captured the real thing, and if so, what would that mean for all of us? Also, there was the curious fact that he did not answer the question of why they had been able to find us. Of everyone on the SubV, I thought he was in the best position to answer that. He was also in the best position to provide that information to the Consortium as well.

Michaels returned and resumed his seat before I could form any coherent conclusions, and then I was distracted by the emotions playing across his face. He was obviously conflicted about something. Did I really want to know?

I plopped the last piece of fruit in my mouth and chewed it slowly. “What is it?” I finally asked

“Olivia thinks she’s found a shortcut.”

That didn’t sound too bad. But he didn’t look happy about it. “You don’t think so?” I asked.

He fidgeted a moment before answering. “It is a shortcut.”

Then what was the problem, and why couldn’t he meet my eyes? “But?” I supplied.

“There are variables to consider.”

Were we back to the vague answers that really answered nothing? I raised my eyebrows at him, and he sighed.

“If we continue on the current path, there are known obstacles. The shortcut has not been reviewed recently and, therefore, may hold unknown obstacles. It was only ever intended to be used as a last resort, and the path is a good deal more dangerous to traverse.”

He sighed heavily and lifted his eyes to mine. “The last time I sent you down a path not meant for you, it didn’t turn out so well.”

Oh, he was feeling guilty over what had happened to me. I couldn’t tell him it wasn’t his fault. It kind of sort of was. But not entirely. The Consortium had played a part in it as well.

“This is not entirely your fault,” I told him.

“That makes me feel so much better,” he said dryly.

I could tell. So, moving on... “We are in a river, right? What’s so dangerous about travelling the river?”

“You’d be surprised,” he grumbled. “In any case, it will be decided for us when we reach the first obstacle.”

I was surprised by the yawn that engulfed me. I quickly brought my hands up to cover it. Only babies looked cute when they yawned.

“Sorry, I guess I’m still tired.”

He unfolded a blanket he retrieved from a pouch under his chair and laid it across my lap. I pulled it up over my shoulders, and he began tucking it in on the sides. His actions brought his head really close to my face. I could clearly see that his neck still bore traces of dried blood and black smudges. The smudges were probably from where I had held onto him.

Without thinking, I licked my thumb and rubbed at the smudges on his neck. When he froze at my touch, so did I. Ever so slowly, I moved my hand back under the safety of the blanket.

“Sorry,” I whispered.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he answered just as quietly.

His gaze bore no resentment at my incredible breach of etiquette. We sat there, studying each other for a few moments, and then he pulled away.

“Get some rest,” he said encouragingly.

That was a change from his usual “Get moving” mantra. He truly was taking good care of me. Too good. Like he was trying to repay me for the blood transfusion. I’d have to really talk to him about it eventually, but not right now and not with an audience.

“I’ll wake you when we get there,” he said.

Roger that, I thought, closing my eyes. Macy over and out.

At some level, I should have been alarmed that I was dangling upside down, held in place only by my seat belt, and my field of view wreathed by my crazy hair. But such was the state of my life that I was not surprised.

“Aw, come on,” I moaned loudly. “I have got to stop waking up like this. I prefer a gentle nudge…”

Michaels’ face suddenly appeared beneath mine. “Change of plans. We’re leaving now.”

My hair prevented me from seeing anyone past Michaels, but I could hear a lot of movement. With the fog of sleep still presiding, I resumed my prior protest a bit more loudly.

“A tender brushing of hair from my face...”

His hands reached up towards me. “I’m undoing your seatbelt,” he said gruffly. “Get ready.”

The familiar sound of metal sliding against metal preceded my stomach’s collision with his shoulder. I gasped at the impact. Contrary to his advice, I wasn’t ready.

He set me on my feet, and I took in the scene around me as I hugged my stomach. The others were scrambling around gathering up supplies and pulling on scuba gear.