The Killin' Fields (Alexa's Travels Book 2) (3 page)

“This is a joke, right?” Paul question, the only one who still didn’t think the government would do something so awful. “Or a mistake?”

Alexa waved Edward to handle him and went to help Jacob dig through the other crates. They were doing it carefully now that they knew there was explosives and deadly chemicals, and the other men stayed back.

“Sit down over here and pay attention,” Edward told Paul, taking him by the arm to the empty corner of the storeroom. “And be quiet.”

Paul wanted to ask questions, to argue with the orders, but Mark’s glower discouraged it.

Feeling he’d been hit enough, Paul closed his sore mouth. He didn’t like being with these other men. They weren’t like him and Alexa.

“It’s here,” Jacob whispered. “Both of them, right here together.” The preacher was pale under his scars. “If this blows, the chemicals will be scattered on the wind.”

“Can anyone remove it?” Alexa asked.

No one said anything and Alexa gestured Jacob back. “Leave it alone.”

“We can damage the door,” Billy suggested. “Make it hard to get in here.”

Alexa stared at the medical crate and the cloth satchel thoughtfully. She didn’t want to give away their location to anyone, but it would bother her too much to leave these things out here for anyone to get a hold of. They would have to handle whatever came from here.

“We’ll take the explosives and burn the rest. Clear out everything that we can use.”

Satisfied the dangerous weapons wouldn’t fall into stupid hands, Alexa’s men worked carefully and quickly had a large pile of new supplies outside the door. Paul stayed in the same corner that Edward had placed him in, absorbing the lesson he wasn’t getting.

Jacob and David were being instructed on prepping a few of the goods they’d found and Paul memorized the instructions. Once he’d seen it done, only lack of strength or tools could stop him from repeating the actions. It was another of those gifts that Corbin had exploited.

Alexa looked over as she caught the thought. “Have you learned to pack it?”

“I’ve watched a lot,” he answered slowly.

Alexa took pity on him. “Come over here and help with the explosives.”

Paul moved too quickly, once again tripping over his own feet and Mark was there to grab the man before he fell directly into the gun rack.

He pointed the cringing scientist toward the more dangerous items hesitantly. “Slow down!”

Alexa had a pouch out. “Hold this.”

Paul not actually touching anything sent relief through the room and the group continued their chores as if it were a normal day. For them, gathering supplies, traveling, learning, and occasionally fighting, was now a way of life. Each of them enjoyed the quiet and the solitude. Only a bit of their daily time was spent bonding and talking. Alexa was guiding them back to nature, to peace, and they longed for it. Paul was a disruption of everything they’d come along for.

Alexa kept Paul’s hands busy while they were inside and then put him to work once they moved outside. Mark and Daniel were on guard duty, while the rest of them sorted and packed. Paul was told to close the pouches tightly and nothing else. A simple chore, Billy went behind and secured each carelessly sealed pouch. Couldn’t the scientist get anything right?

Alexa met Billy’s eye for a moment of shared sympathy for the Rabbit. No matter who his group was, he wouldn’t survive. They would do all they could to keep him alive, but in the end, it would never be enough.

“And there’s no way to change that?” Billy asked.

Alexa shook her head and though she went right back to searching the corn without another word on the subject, Billy knew her mood had taken a hit and she was dwelling on it. Always good with a quick retort, Billy caught her gaze again. “Imagine the havoc he created in a lab.”

“It’s what keeps me walking,” Alexa cracked back. “That, and the wonderful view.”

Before Billy could do more than chuckle, Paul’s loud voice came from the pile of bags and pouches.

“I thrived in the labs! The women used to ask for me instead the others.”

Silence.

Then laughter.

Paul reddened, but wasn’t wise enough to stop there.

“It’s true. Many of them paid their allotments to pick me.”

Now the laughter was uneasy, fading into disapproval.

“You charged prisoners to rape them?”

Mark’s tone was icy and Paul quickly said, “I wouldn’t do that. The women are breeders. It’s all they do. They’re treated well.”

Alexa signaled for the packed pouches to be loaded up. “They’re not treated well, Paul. They’re prisoners.”

The scientists understood their point, but wasn’t sure they were understanding his. “They have to have it once they get pregnant. You know? If not, they get out of control. And we can’t sedate them-it interferes with the gifts.”

All of them were staring like he was insane now and Paul shrugged, heading for his pack. “Fine. Whatever.”

“You mean they crave…physical contact when they’re carrying?” David asked, unable to help himself. Unlike the preacher, the blacksmith had been the opposite of abstainer. He’d indulged in the locals, the towns around, and any travelers who’d come through. The two weeks without had been the hardest part of this quest for him so far.

“It’s better than that,” Paul confided, grinning. “They have to have it or the offspring won’t develop gifts. But it has to be with another descendant. Cases are almost nonexistent where a child develops gifts from only one parent with powers.”

Alexa rolled her eyes and went to stand watch. She motioned the two males who were supposed to be doing that to go and help load. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner she would have her fighters back. Unless the bullets were flying, nothing else distracted a man like talk of sex. They would spend hours comparing notes if left to their own devices.

“What type of scientist were you?” Jacob asked curiously. He wasn’t interested in the female knowledge as much as the others-he’d been with Alexa and thought no other woman would ever be enough for him-but there was still the sense of being lied to. How could this…nerd, be a lover-boy?

“I supervised several labs,” Paul said arrogantly. “The reproductive wing was my side-job. I covered Corbin’s research division.”

“Research about descendants?” Billy conformed.

“Yes, and their offspring.”

“So you assigned partners, took notes. That sort f thing?” David guessed.

“At first, but for the last year, I’ve been one of the subjects as well,” Paul told them bitterly. “My
father
wanted fresh dna for his experiments and I had just reach age and started showing signs of my lineage.”

It was such an incredible story that all of the men had already dismissed it. There was no way the government had been using Paul for breeding purposes. It was too much to believe.

“You mean you took part in these…tests?” Daniel asked, relieved that Alexa wasn’t angry at the conversation, only impatient. “And they were willing?”

“And asked for you?”

“Repeatedly,” Paul boasted, then realized he was being taunted, and stood up. He grabbed his now refilled kit and swung it over his shoulder. Not ready for the new weight, the kit pulled him over and he went sprawling.

The men burst into fresh laughter, even Alexa unable to contain a low chuckle, and Paul went scarlet. He scrambled to his feet, opening his mouth to shout, and Alexa cut him off with a sharp whistle.

“That’s our cue,” Daniel stated dryly. “Let’s go,
stud
.”

Paul’s lips drew in further, but he did as he was told. They didn’t have to believe him. He had the memories and if given enough time, he’d have Alexa begging for his touch as well.

“Are we going in the house?” Edward asked as they got set to go.

Mentally snickering, Alexa asked, “Is it something we need?”

Edward wasn’t sure and he didn’t lie. “I don’t know. It has a…”

Alexa concentrated and caught the vibe he was centered on. “Safe Haven. They’ve been here.”

Edward was glad to have that feeling confirmed. It was faint enough to be doubted.

Alexa led them into the main yard of the house, counting windows and floors to judge the size and possible threats inside. From the wild appearance, they could probably assume it  was empty, but she would never let them treat it that way. To do so might get them killed later by carelessness.

The home was large. Seven windows with bars over them lined the front of the ranch home, and that same well-covering ivy had grown over top of everything, including water-stained birdbaths and garden gnomes. The landscaping implied the people who’d called this home, preferred flyers, and all of them flashed back to the last town.

Edward and Jacob did a quick scan of their rear and then above them for an ambush.

“Two to the door, two up high,” she ordered, getting set to fight. She had noticed that the undamaged front door actually had large and deep gouges in it, as if something had tried to get inside. That was contrary to the deserted feel and the coolness of being ready for battle fell over her mind.

Alexa’s serious attitude told the men what was expected and they hurried into the house like a team of professionals, efficiently clearing each room.

The inside of the home was basic and bare.
The walls were stripped, leaving only dust squares, and even the lampshades were gone. Empty curtain rods, no wooden furniture except what couldn’t be ripped out to burn for warmth, and lack of carpeting said the residents had tried very hard to live here. Alexa was sure they would discover fire cans and ash dumps if they searched hard enough. These people had used everything they had to keep warm.
“Things got bad that first winter,” Alexa murmured, remembering. “The winter took a heavy toll.”

She moved them on before depressing thoughts and memories could distract them all.

They went through half a dozen dusty, neglected bedrooms before they moved down the cold halls, feeling like they were in a disease outbreak movie when it ended in a main room with a huge bed full of gray lumps. As they neared the warped bed, they realized it was a pile of bones, though the skeletons were much bigger than what they were used to.

Alexa paused as flashes of the past burst into horrifying detail in front of her. She could hear the screams, could see the bleeding Wildman that she assumed was their protector. She could smell the blood as they tried to tend the huge man’s wounds and defend their home.

Alexa came back with a small jerk and looked around, mind automatically comparing it to what she had just witnessed.

Plastic and sheets of metal were over the widows in this room, and over the vents, with caulking and brittle tape over baseboards and cracks in walls. Appliances had been pulled around half the bed to form a barrier and baskets of long-molded corn sat at the foot of it.

“Did they try to burn the corn for heat?” Jacob asked, confused.

Alexa didn’t answer. Neither of her theories were pleasant, but if she had to pick one, she would say it was intentional. They’d chosen to die of poisoning instead of starvation or freezing.

Alexa spotted scat and narrowed in on its condition to determine age. With the house shut up, it could have been months or years, despite the bodies being skeletons and she wasn’t able to determine a timeframe.

Alexa pointed to the plastic curtains, and Edward and Mark rushed through them with guns out.

“Clear here,” Mark called, wrinkling his nose at the strong odor of rotten corn.

Alexa took a quick scan of the kitchen.
The kitchen wasn’t very large, but it felt that way by how empty it was. No table and chairs, no cabinets left on the walls, and dusty squares proclaimed that life had fled from this place. The floor did sport a rug- a shabby, circle carpet of only a few feet in size. It had faded as if left in the sun and sat there glaring dingily. Even the walls were hostile, carrying scrapes and gouges, and holes that had been filled with what smelled like toothpaste.

“They tried so hard,” she murmured. “We’ll honor that by not burning this too.”

She narrowed in on the floor and sole surviving rug. “What’s down there?”

The trap door was almost hidden under the shabby rug that made a loud ripping noise when they tore it up. The carpet, like many other house items, had molded to the floor.

“A tunnel,” Edward said, dangling down by his big arms. Mark had a strong grip on him and Alexa allowed herself a moment’s enjoyment of her men. They were beautiful to watch in action.

“Describe it,” Alexa stated, eyeing the empty counter.

“Used to be a sewer or maybe a storm drain. There’s an old rope-n-ladder set, but the rope’s pretty frayed. Can’t see much beyond piles of bones and a stack of crates that I wouldn’t put a feather on.”

“Water? Wildlife?” Alexa led, body flashing need that bled through her tones.

“No, to both. Doesn’t even look damp for being a tunnel. You want me to drop down and scout it out?”

“No,” Alexa answered, feeling the temperature in the room rising. “I have other duties for you.”

Both males felt her warm regard and moved her way without waiting for the invitation. What she wanted was clear and they were willing. It was something each man had already considered and decided he could tolerate or better.