Red Zone (Red Zone 1)

“I’m fine.” Did her words sound sluggish? Had she even said them aloud. She couldn’t remember, so she said them again. “I’m fine.”

“Base,” he snapped the word. “Come in base. I’m coming in hot. Package is dehydrated and disorientated. Medical assistance needed.”

“Base here,” a voice she didn’t recognize echoed through her helmet. “What’s your ETA?”

“Eight minutes. We’re in the northern channel.”

His words weren’t making any sense, and she tuned them out. Instead, she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as the red mist sparkled and shifted in the light.

“Sending assistance,” the strange voice said. “Doc is on his way. ETA two minutes.”

“It’s so pretty,” she said. “Like a cloud at sunset.”

There was a pause. “That her?” the strange voice said.

Friday no longer cared what the voices in her head were talking about. She only cared about the beautiful swirling mist.

“Yeah, that’s her. She’s losing it.” Striker moved to stand beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist to hold her up.

Surely the path wasn’t wide enough for them to stand side by side. She looked sideways at Striker, and everything within her exploded in a rush of pure, ferocious terror.

His arm was in the mist.

“No!” Her scream was ear-shattering in the confines of her helmet.

She lunged forward, pulling his arm back. Her foot slipped. She lost her balance. Striker’s hold tightened on her, but not before her gloved hand and part of her forearm plunged into the red swirling haze.

“Fuck!” His voice was a roar. “She touched the mist!”

Chapter Thirteen

“Doc?” Striker heard the quaver in his voice but couldn’t stop it.

He lowered Friday to the ground and ripped off their masks.

“You got this,” Doc said through the comm unit in his ear. “I’m two minutes away. I have an IV. How big an area was contaminated?”

He pulled the glove off the hand that had gone into the mist. Her fingers had a dusting of red on them. The mist had already made its way through the thick material. He tossed the glove aside and frantically yanked at the fasteners on her suit.

“I think it’s only her hand and arm.”

“Get everything off.”

“On it.”

She groaned as he shifted her body in order to strip the suit from her. Curses he hadn’t used since he was a kid playing on the bayou poured from his lips. The layers of protective clothing were necessary but there were too many of them. It took endless seconds to get past the protective suit, and the jumpsuit beneath it. His eye ran over her body, relieved to see that the damage had been contained to only one arm.

“We’ve got red mist sitting on her hand and arm. The hand’s taken the worst of it.”

“You know what to do.” Doc’s voice was steady. “Get started. I’m nearly on you and I’ll help once I get the IV hooked up.”

“You need…get…help.” Her weak voice made his eyes shoot to her face.

“It’s gonna be okay, bébé. I promise you.”

“No!” Her contamination-free hand reached out and grabbed his wrist, her grip weak. “Get help for you. You need to get the red off you. You need to survive.”

He trailed a finger down her cheek. “Don’t worry ’bout me. I’m fine, me. We’re gonna get you sorted.”