Winter Halo (Outcast 2)

“And what about the hunting party from Central? Or have you forgotten about them?”

“I forget nothing. There’s a well over there.” He motioned to the house with his chin. “You want to get a bucket of water while I set up our escape?”

I did as he bade. By the time I’d come back with two buckets of water, the third solar vehicle was off the ground and ready for a quick getaway.

Jonas grabbed one of the buckets from me and pitched the water over Williams’s head. The second bucket got the result we wanted—Williams woke, making sounds that rather sounded like a cat mewling in fear.

Jonas squatted in front of him, shoved a hand around his neck, and thrust him back against the ATV’s tracks. “You have one chance, and one chance only, to tell me where they’re making the VX.”

Williams’s mouth flapped, but for several seconds no sound came out. When it finally did, his words were slurred and barely understandable. Not surprising, given that the man had a broken jaw. “Base, Crow’s Point,” was all I caught.

Crow’s Point had been the location of the third déchet base—the other two being my bunker and the Broken Mountains. I doubted it was a coincidence that these people were using them—not only had Sal been familiar with all three, but if his two partners had worked for the HDP, then they would also be.

“And are they keeping the children there as well?” Jonas said.

Williams shook his head. “Dangerous,” he ground out.

“Then where are they keeping them?”

Williams shrugged. “Moved them. Not sure.”

Jonas glanced at me. “You believe him?”

I crossed my arms and studied Williams. His teeth were bloody, his mouth was swelling, and he was sweating heavily—a mix of fear and pain, I suspected. But I didn’t have an ounce of sympathy for the man; he deserved a whole lot more than this. “No.”

“Truth,” Williams said, his voice little more than a squeak of fright. “They’re west, that’s all I know.”

“West of Central?” Jonas asked.

Williams nodded. “Honest, that’s all I know.”

Jonas grunted and glanced at me. I shrugged. It was doubtful Williams knew anything more than what he’d said. Sal’s partners were obviously playing their cards very close to their chests, and it was unlikely they’d trust anyone with that sort of information, let alone someone like Williams, who was so full of bluster and self-importance.

Jonas obviously agreed with me, because his next question took a different tack. “How are the children getting into the trucks if no one knows where they’re being kept?”

“Drivers met.”

A soft but distant buzzing caught my attention. I glanced skyward, but there was nothing to see; not yet, anyway. “Jonas—”

“I know,” he said, but didn’t move. “What have you been doing to the children?”

“Testing drugs. Splicing.”

“Splicing what? DNA?”

Williams nodded. “Not part of splicing program. Reynolds is in charge of that.”

“Joseph Reynolds?” Jonas asked.

Williams nodded again. The sweat pouring down his face was becoming a river and his skin was ashen.

“What about the drugs you’ve given the children? Are they reversible?”

Williams’s gaze flicked away. “Maybe. With time. Can help with that, though.”

Jonas tightened his grip on Williams’s throat; for an instant I thought he was intending to strangle the man, but as Williams’s face began to turn an interesting shade and his breaths became shuddering gasps, he released him and thrust upright. “We’ll keep your family free and safe, as we promised,” he said. “But you? You won’t be helping anyone. You can reap what you’ve sewn and rot in hell.”

With that, he spun and strode toward the waiting vehicle. I followed. Williams alternated between screaming in fury and begging us to keep our promise and keep him safe, but neither of us acknowledged him or turned around. Once we were both seated, Jonas closed the doors, spun the vehicle around, and headed in the opposite direction to the vehicles that held the kids.