Red Zone (Red Zone 1)

“So, no, I wasn’t shocked at Striker’s diamondback. I was thrilled. Thrilled that something exciting, something interesti

ng, had fallen into my path for a change. Thrilled that I might have a chance to do what I love to do, rather than what I have to do. Thrilled that there was a group of people out there who wanted and needed me, instead of people who barely tolerated my presence. But”—she poked him in the chest—“when I find out what your animal is, I’ll be sure to scream and faint, so you’ll feel properly appreciated.” She turned back to Striker. “We need to get going.”

“Yeah, we do.” He reached out and clasped her nape. His eye was soft, and the smile was one she’d never seen before—she thought it might have been pride. In her. But that couldn’t be. No one ever felt something like that over her.

He pressed a soft, sweet kiss to her lips before releasing her. Friday turned away, picked up her water bottle, hoping the men couldn’t see her eyes well up. Damn tears. She’d never been on the verge of crying so much as she had been since she’d met Striker. Or maybe it was just a side effect of the poison. She could only hope that’s what it was because she didn’t plan to turn into an emotional wreck anytime soon.

“Friday?” Mace called, making her tense. His tone had softened, but you still couldn’t call it warm. “Jury’s still out.”

She didn’t answer. He was kidding himself. The jury was definitely in, and it had already convicted her.

“Let’s get going.” Striker picked up his daypack. “You ready?”

She nodded and put some distance between her and Ape-man. They moved out in silence, walking across the rugged landscape toward the EMP barrier that indicated the border to the Coalition Countries.

The silence didn’t bother Friday. It wasn’t like she’d spent a lot of time around people anyway. The men might think she was a talker, but she was normally alone. The only reason she’d been talking since meeting them was because she had too many questions that needed answering.

They stopped now and then to replenish their fluids and energy with tepid water and dry nutrition bars. Friday actually craved the taste sensation of the spicy chili Mace had made, but she certainly wasn’t going to tell the man. As night fell, the glow of power from the pulsing EMP barrier lit up the distant sky. The barrier was made up of a set of tall poles that emitted pulses of electromagnetic energy contained in laser beams between them, effectively forming a wall that would overload any circuit passing through it. All Coalition Countries used EMP barriers on their borders. No implant ready chips were legally allowed into Coalition Countries, and anyone who already had implants had to apply for a special visa to cross the border. Even then they were closely monitored.

As they walked up to the barrier, she noticed a concrete cube of a building on the other side of the glowing wall of light. Striker checked his wristwatch, another relic from his past.

“Any time now,” he said.

“Time for what?” It didn’t matter how much she wanted to keep the questions inside, they always found a way out.

He gave her a knowing smile. “I was wondering how long you’d last before your curiosity overrode your stubborn streak. It’s been hours, I’m impressed.”

“Not impressed enough to answer the question. What’s it time for, and how are we going to get past the barrier?”

He jerked his head toward a man coming out of the concrete cube. “That’s how.”

The man walked over to the barrier. Although he wore the uniform of a border official, he didn’t seem surprised to see them. The pulsing blue lights affected his skin tone, making him seem otherworldly.

“Smurf effect,” Striker said, as though reading her mind.

“What effect?”

“We need to sit her down and let her watch some old movies,” Mace grumbled. “This is embarrassing.”

“I’m touched,” she mocked. “It sounds like you’ve decided to let me stay, after all.”

“Children,” Striker reprimanded. “Behave or you’ll get a time-out.”

“Striker,” the guard shouted. “You got my payment?”

He tapped his backpack. “Got it right here, Manny. Have I ever let you down?”

The guard snorted. “There’s a first time for everything.” He held up his hand, pressed a remote, and the beams between the two nearest poles stopped, creating a door in the barrier.

“Come on.” Striker nudged her through the gap, and it closed behind them. He handed a credit chip to the border guard. “There you go. The vehicle was delivered?”

“It’s waiting in your usual spot.” The guy tucked the chip into his shirt pocket. “See you next time.”

“Hasta luego, Manny.” He saluted the man, took Friday’s hand, and headed around the side of the building.

“Well, that was disappointing.” She noted that there was only one vehicle in the cracked and desolate parking area—their ride.

“Bébé, you’re through the EMP barrier. You should be ecstatic.”