Broken Lands (Benny Imura 6)

“They’re not. The scout teams haven’t found a thing.”

“C’mon, Bess,” said the big man, “you can’t say that with a straight face. Not one of the scout teams we sent out in the last three weeks has come back. The writing’s on the wall. We need to shut down the lab, clear out the base, and get out of here and head east while we still can.”

“You’re overreacting,” said the captain.

“Am I? You’ve known me for a long time. When have I ever overreacted? I just know when retreat is the smarter choice.”

“The research has to be completed before we even think about leaving.”

“That’s what you said last year, and the year before that. Are we really any closer to cracking this? I don’t think so. I think we’re fooling ourselves. All the science team gives us is mumbo jumbo and empty promises. Can you really stand there and tell me they’ve made progress? No, better yet, can you look me in the eye and tell me they haven’t made it worse? And I mean a lot worse. Those things are organized out there.”

“According to rumor.”

Simon made a disgusted sound. “Yeah, well, what’s your plan? Wait until those ‘rumors’ come waltzing up and bite us all on the butt?”

“Keep your voice down,” snapped Bess.

“Okay, okay,” said Simon more quietly, “but be reasonable. You have to know that this is going to fall apart. Don’t forget, there’s a heck of a lot more of them than there are of us. All that talk about the Raggedy Man—”

“Don’t say that name,” she hissed, cutting a worried look at the soldiers digging the grave and then out at the night. She stood chewing her lip for a moment. Then she took Simon by the arm and led him farther out of earshot of the diggers, but closer to where Gutsy lay. “Listen, officially we’ve got this under control. But . . . personally, I think you’re right. A few of us agree. And I have something worked out if the worst happens.”

“What do you mean ‘worked out’?”

“The second it looks like things are falling apart, we’re gone. Me and a few others.” She rattled off some names that were meaningless to Gutsy. “We have transport, weapons, and supplies. We just need to grab the research from the lab and let everything else go. I’m inviting you in, Simon, but you can’t tell anyone, you understand? We could use some extra muscle, and I’d rather that be you than those two.” She nodded in the direction of the digging soldiers. “Stay close to me and if this blows open, then we head east to Ashe—”

“Hey, Cap,” called the white soldier from the bottom of the grave. “Think we got it.”

The officers abandoned their covert conversation and stepped closer. Gutsy ached to know what they’d been talking about and to hear the rest of what the captain was going to say, but now everyone was focused on Mama’s grave again.

“Biohazard gear on,” ordered the captain, and they all removed white surgical masks from their pockets and pulled on thin rubber gloves. “Okay, Duke, dig it out.”

Duke, the white soldier, began digging with renewed vigor. “Give me a second to . . . Hey, wait . . .”

“What’s wrong, Duke?” asked the Latino soldier.

“What the heck is this?” growled Duke. “Mateo, hand me the lantern, there’s something hinky down here.”

The Latino soldier took a lantern and jumped down next to Duke. The two officers crouched down to peer into the open grave. Gutsy held her breath.

“What in the . . . ?” began the big lieutenant, but his words petered out too. Gutsy smiled thinly.

She watched as they hauled out the shroud, now filthy and streaked with dirt. Duke and Mateo struggled to lift it, and then the lieutenant reached down and together they heaved it onto the side of the grave. The soldiers scrambled out and crouched on either side of the shroud. There was the slithery sound of a knife being drawn, and then the captain knelt down and cut a long slit in the shroud. She reached her other hand inside and drew something out.

It was a rock. The lieutenant lifted a corner of the shroud and more rocks fell out onto the ground; some thudding to a stop in the soft mound of dirt, others bouncing off the edge and dropping out of sight. The captain pulled her mask off and dropped it.

“What’s going on?” asked Duke.

Instead of answering, the captain rose quickly to her feet. She still held the knife in her left hand, but now there was an automatic pistol in her right. The draw had been so fast and smooth that Gutsy never saw it. The lieutenant drew his weapon too.

“We’re compromised,” said Simon. The two gravediggers immediately grabbed automatic rifles from their duff

el bag.

Sombra was trembling again. At first Gutsy thought he wanted to run away, but then she saw a trace of lantern light on his bared teeth. Dogs, it seemed, could hate too.

“We’re being played,” said the lieutenant.

The soldiers looked scared. Terrified. Even the captain seemed shaken. They stood in a circle, weapons pointing outward.