Marked (3 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

C
acy floored the ambulance across Kneeland Street, splashed into the wide mouth of the Main Canal, and gunned the water jets.

And immediately had to pull the throttle back with all her strength.

“Damn sampans,” she yelled, rolling down the window and waving her arms at the people on the slow-ass flat-bottomed boat in front of the ambulance. They simply ignored the giant amphibious vehicle with the blaring sirens. “Take the wheel, Eli, will you?”

“What?” He looked at her like
he’d
never driven an amphibious before. He probably hadn’t, since Pittsburgh was pretty much a desert wasteland. She hoped he was a quick study.

“Take. The. Wheel.” She was halfway out the window when he scooted over and did as he was told.

As the rig lurched forward, she nearly lost her balance and tumbled out, but Eli’s warm hand wrapped firmly around her thigh to offer her some stability. Cacy clenched her teeth. It felt annoyingly fantastic. His grip tightened and he swerved against the canal wall to keep from hitting a speeding uniboat as it zipped between the ambulance and the sampan. Cacy’s ribs hit the edge of the window. Hard. That did
not
feel fantastic.

“Jesus! That was close,” he shouted. “You okay up there?”

“Just fine,” she called, grateful for his hold on her as she leaned forward and screeched at the sampan owners in Mandarin. Their eyes widened and they flipped on the tiny motor at the back of their boat, quickly making way for the rig.

“Did they not understand what the siren means?” Eli asked as she slid back through the window and settled into the driver’s seat.

“No, they understood just fine. But we have so many emergencies that they tune us out after a while.”

“Then what did you say to get them to move like that?”

“I threatened to cut off their balls and use them as hood ornaments.”

“It occurs to me that you might not be kidding.”

“Oh, Trevor was right. You are
fresh
.” She reached over and tousled his hair. Mistake. It was silk between her fingers and she had this flash of fantasy about running her fingers through it as he did a few things to her that may or may not have involved melted mockolate.

“Jeez! Look out!”

Cacy’s hands snapped back to the wheel, and she swerved to avoid an overcrowded NMOB. “Sorry.”

“Four-three-six, kindly tell me what the fuck you’re doing up there,” Len’s voice spat over the wireless. His flashers painted their rear view. Freaking tailgater.

Cacy hit the “Reply” key to open the line. “Breaking in the new guy. He likes it rough.”

Eli didn’t turn to the window quickly enough to hide his smile.

Len treated them to a truly uninspired string of curses until he heard Cacy snoring over the wireless. He hit the “Mute” key so hard the crack resounded through the cab of their rig.

“Now that we’re alone again,” Cacy said sweetly, “tell me—did Dec go over canal-site protocol this afternoon?”

She swung the ambulance into the High Street Canal, which was barely wide enough for two AVs shoulder to shoulder. Massive skyscrapers jutted up on either side, rimmed by wide sidewalks and a low wall to keep people from falling into the water. Up ahead, she could already see the accident. This was going to be bad.

“He was very thorough, Lieutenant. Both triage and rules of engagement with third-party threats,” Eli said briskly as he leaned forward to peer through the windshield, game face on. Cacy could tell he was already trying to spot the victims.

“Yeah, well, the fire crews are so overstretched these days that they only make it to half the calls. It looks like we might be on our own on this one, so keep your eyes open.”

Behind them, Len and two other units made the turn from the Main Canal and motored into the High Street Canal. The flashing lights were reflected in the glass storefronts, but they weren’t necessary at the moment. The canal and sidewalks were empty. The city’s residents knew what happened after accidents and hadn’t stuck around.

Cacy took a moment to survey the scene; there were a few bodies in the water, but many of them had been hurled onto the sidewalk or against the canal wall. The AV must have been going ungodly fast. It was overturned in the canal, surrounded by the demolished NMOB. She cursed under her breath as she reversed the water jets and spun the rig around in the last intersection before they reached the wreckage. The canal walls seemed high and close as she backed up the rig to the edge of the accident site, listening closely for the chiming alert that would tell her if she was about to hit organic material in the canal. Like a body.

Len’s voice came over the wireless again. “Just heard from Fire and Police. They’re on their way but advised it will be a minimum of ten till they’re on scene. You want to sit in the rig and wait?”

“With all due respect, Len—hell, no,” yelled Cacy, pulling to a stop and reaching for her gloves and goggles.

Eli clearly shared her attitude. He had already zipped on his gloves, strapped on his goggles, and climbed into the back, where he grabbed a med kit and swung open the rear doors.

“Don’t forget your tranq gun!” she called, getting on her own gear and jumping into the back. The scent of gasoline burned her throat as she watched Eli vault over the wall and onto the sidewalk, headed straight for a shapeless, bleeding heap hanging halfway into the canal. He made a lightning-fast assessment of vitals, then wordlessly pulled a black tag from the thigh pocket of his uniform and slapped it on the victim’s back. Their first fatality.

Eli shot to his feet and ran to the next body.

Reassured he knew how to triage, Cacy sprinted past him, scanning back and forth for threats. Her tranq gun rattled at her waist as she hopped over a severed leg to land beside its owner, a gray-lipped middle-aged woman. The lady’s eyes went wide with terror at the sight of Cacy, and she shook her head frantically. Her hands fluttered helplessly at her sides, weakly trying to ward her off.

“Shhh,” Cacy said softly. She tapped the insignia on the front of her uniform. “Medic. Hospital. You’re safe.”

The woman’s hands went still. She nodded.

Cacy did a quick vital scan, checked the woman’s airway, pinched an oxygen minipump on her nose, and slapped an automatch skin-bandage over the stump of her left leg.

“Three black, two orange, four reds.” Len’s voice echoed from across the canal. He and the other two units had docked on the other side, where the ass end of the overturned amphibious SUV jutted up onto the sidewalk.

Cacy yanked an insta-cold limbsack from her med kit, carefully bagged her patient’s left leg, and left it lying next to the woman. She pulled a red tag from her pocket and stuck it to the woman’s chest. She could survive if she got to the med center soon. “Got a red here,” Cacy called.

“Me too,” Eli said calmly as he injected self-perpetuating saline gel into a male victim with a nasty head wound. Eli lifted his head and met Cacy’s eyes, then nodded to his left. A young woman lay on her side, crumpled against the door of a shuttered storefront, her arms and legs canted in the wrong directions. “Another red?”

Cacy scrambled over to the girl and checked her vitals. She was still alive, but only barely. Cacy did some quick mental calculations. They had seven reds in all—victims needing immediate and intensive medical care. And two oranges—those who needed care but weren’t as critical. But they only had four rigs, which were meant to transport one patient at a time, two if they were desperate. And this area was too dangerous to leave anyone behind.

Time for the Ferry brand of triage.

Cacy kept her back to Eli and unsnapped the Scope from the platinum chain around her neck. Her thumb brushed over the disk’s surface, opening a tiny window to the Veil. She held it to her eye like a monocle and looked at the
now-shadowy-and-transparent
girl at her feet. Across the girl’s chest lay a jagged cross within a glowing orange circle.

Theta, symbol of death.

The girl was Marked. She would not survive. Cacy wondered if Trevor had done it, or if another Ker was responsible.

She kept the Scope concealed in her hand as she turned around. Eli had retrieved the body board from the rig and was hunched over his patient, carefully positioning a head and neck brace in preparation to transport. Cacy put the Scope to her eye and scanned his patient’s body. No Mark.

The woman who’d lost her leg was also un-Marked. That made two reds on this side of the canal who would live—but if they didn’t get immediate and intensive medical care, the rest of their lives might not be worth living. On Len’s side, there was a sea of glowing orange Thetas. At least three Marked bodies lay on the sidewalk, but they were already tagged black. One more floated at the edge of the canal, his clothes snagged on the splintered wreckage of the NMOB. And from the shattered window of the SUV hung its driver, his fat, ringed fingers dangling in the water. The driver’s Theta mark covered his entire back, as if the Ker who did it wanted to make double sure the guy was doomed.

Two of Len’s red patients were Marked, too, which meant they would die no matter what the paramedics did for them, no matter how good the prognosis seemed. Len was wasting good chemical defib solution on one of them.

“Len,” Cacy shouted, pointing to the only un-Marked victims on his side, an elderly woman and a little boy. “Prioritize those two. Take your patients and get going.”

Len had known Cacy too long to question her. Everybody knew the Ferrys were never wrong in their triage; they just didn’t know why.

Eli twisted around in time to see her snap the Scope back to the chain. He glanced over at the dying girl crumpled against the storefront and gave Cacy a questioning look. He was probably wondering why she was standing there with her metaphorical dick in her hand while an unattended patient lay mere feet away.

She had just opened her mouth to give him some stupid explanation when a deafening crack sounded in her ears. Fiery agony shot all the way through her shoulder. She hit the sidewalk face-first, gasping, already reaching for her tranq gun with her good hand. Warning shouts from the other side of the canal told her what she already knew.

The canal pirates had arrived.

Cacy flipped onto her back and swung the tranq gun up, pulling the trigger and nailing the bastard who’d shot her before he could do it again. He grunted and pitched over onto the sidewalk, a dart protruding from his neck. Panting with the pain, she rolled to her side and pushed herself to her hands and knees, batting the pirate’s improvised bolt gun out of his reach, wishing her code of ethics allowed her to use it on him. She raised her head and looked around.

Where had she left Eli? Had they already gotten him? Had he remembered to grab his tranq gun from the cab?

The body of a pirate landed heavily next to her. Drool flew from his slack mouth, landing in viscous strands on the cement. A dart was sticking out of his cheek.

Eli
had
remembered his tranq gun.

He stood protectively over his patient, his green eyes practically glowing with rage. An empty tranq gun lay at his feet, as did another darted pirate. Eli held the body board in front of him like a shield. Two other pirates had hemmed him in and backed him up against the canal wall, swinging at him with blood-stained rebar machetes. And a third pirate was behind Eli, scalpel in hand, clinging to a ladder propped against the side of the canal wall.

Cacy’s chest went tight. She got to her feet, hissing at the pain in her shoulder. This was like a replay of what had happened to her partner a few weeks ago. But her warning shout froze in her throat as Eli kicked the scalpel wielder in the face without even looking behind him. A second pirate slashed at his head, and Eli ducked, then landed a devastating kick to the guy’s knee while he used the body board to block the third pirate’s machete swing.

Cacy aimed her tranq gun and was squeezing the trigger when a hard body plowed into her, knocking her to the sidewalk again. Her chin bounced off the ground, sending lightning bolts of pain zinging through her head, turning her vision to white static.

A pirate sat on her back and wound his steely fingers through her hair. He yanked her head up and peered down at her. His eyes lit up when he saw the pretty piece of jewelry around her neck.

He examined her face next. “Healthy,” he said cheerfully, clearly thinking of the profit
he’d
make from harvesting her organs.

“Fucking pirate,” she spat as blood dripped from her chin. He leaned close to fumble for the zipper of her uniform. She gagged at the stench of his breath. Her fingers scrabbled and stretched for her tranq gun, which lay a few feet away, taunting her. She desperately hoped Len and the others were all right on the other side of the canal. She could only pray Eli had taken out that last—

The weight at her back lifted and she kissed the sidewalk again, then jerked her head around to see if another threat was headed her way. Her attacker lay on the ground, his nose steadily gushing blood. Eli shook out his right hand in a casual sort of way, like he punched canal pirates all the time. Then he scooped Cacy’s tranq gun from the sidewalk and shot the pirate in the neck without the slightest hint of hesitation.

CHAPTER FIVE

E
li dropped the gun and turned the pirate on his side so he didn’t choke on his own blood. Something deep inside him rumbled, the pressure building, the lid ready to blow. He wanted to kill this bastard so badly that it was almost painful to hold back. But
he’d
promised himself he was done with that part of his life. He forced his eyes away from the pirate and retrieved his med kit from beside the head-wound patient. The accident victim needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible, but Eli wasn’t going anywhere without Cacy, who lay facedown on the sidewalk.

He reached her just as she flopped onto her back, wincing in pain, her eyelids fluttering. Her chin and mouth were bleeding, which ratcheted up his desire to punish the canal pirate to a frightening level.

Eli sank to his knees and got behind her, allowing her to lean against him as he fished in his kit. The flash of a siren brought his head up. Len and the others were pulling out with their patients. Len was leaning out his window, trying to see Cacy. Eli’s arms tightened around her. He nodded at Len.
I’ve got her. You can go.
The night shift supervisor glared back but fired up his water jets and sped toward the hospital with sirens wailing.

Eli gently probed the delicate line of Cacy’s jaw and nose. Nothing was obviously broken. She blinked furiously as he shone his biolight into her eyes. “Stop it,” she said. “I just need a minute and I’ll be fine.”

“Pupils equal and round, reactive to light,” he commented, determined to stay focused. Before she could protest, he pushed her mouth open and pressed an autostaunch patch to the cut inside her cheek.

“Sorry,” he said when he saw the pain in her eyes. He stroked the backs of his gloved fingers down the side of her face, unable to help himself.

“I’m fine,” she said, struggling to get up. Her left arm was hanging limp at her side. Their uniforms were bulletproof, but that didn’t mean getting hit by ballistic hardware didn’t hurt like hell. She would have an enormous bruise.

Eli got to his feet and held his hand out. Cacy took it, allowing him to pull her up. She swayed in place but steadied herself immediately. Her eyes slid over the unconscious bodies of the five canal pirates
he’d
taken out.

Her full lips curled slightly at the corners. “The desert must have been a rougher place than I thought.”

“I’ll tell you about it sometime.” Eli didn’t even try to hide his own relieved smile at the sight of her striding forward to check on one of the accident victims. She was tough.

Cacy touched the neck of the teenage girl who’d been thrown against the storefront. She waved her cardiac wand over the girl’s chest and did not seem surprised when it remained silent. “Black,” she said quietly, turning back to him.

He met her gaze steadily. “I’ll get the stretchers for the others. We can transport two in a pinch, right?”

Cacy nodded. They worked together to get the two patients aboard their rig. Cacy grimly black-tagged the girl. With any luck, the morgue team would arrive before another pirate gang descended to cut her up. Dec had told him the demand was so high for transplants that even freshly dead organs fetched a pretty price in the backstreet clinics.

Cacy drove to Central Medical Center while Eli kept their passengers alive in the back. They rushed their human cargo into the emergency department, handing them off to the harried hospital staff, then drove back to the EMS station, just a block away. Cacy pulled the ambulance into its spot and hunched over the steering wheel for a few seconds. Her shoulders rose as she took a deep breath. Then she sat up quickly, opened the door, and got out.

Eli jumped out of the passenger side and circled the ambulance, blocking her path to the supply cabinet. “I’ll clean out the back and refill supplies. You need a break.”

She bowed her head and nodded. Her shiny black hair fell over her face, and her fingers rose to touch her pendant. Eli’s heart did a funny little kick. She was still giving him whiplash. Tough one moment, vulnerable the next.

He pulled off his glove and leaned close, brushing his thumb lightly along the corner of her mouth. “Is your mouth still bleeding? Do you want me to take another look?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. I heal quickly. But you’re right about me needing a break.” She raised her eyes to his, and he felt like he might drown in them. “I won’t be long. Thanks, Eli.”

It was the first time
she’d
said his name, and God, it sounded good. “Take your time, Cacy.”

She rewarded him with a flicker of a smile before her eyes hooded. His hand fell from her face as she backed away and walked slowly toward the locker room. He watched her go, fighting the urge to scoop her up and carry her.

“Hey, new boy. How’d you like your first taste of EMS Boston-style?” Len swaggered toward him, holding a bottle of Powderkleen and a decon kit. He wore a tight, menacing smile on his face.

“Well, it wasn’t boring.” Eli walked to the back of the rig and pulled open the rear doors.

Len followed him. “How’s my girl?”

Eli bit back the words
she’s
not
yours
and looked over his shoulder, toward the locker room. “She got a little beat up, but she seems all right.”

Len set the cleaning supplies on the floor of the ambulance. “Cacy and her last partner were attacked by a horde of canal pirates a few weeks ago. An accident a lot like this one. Those bastards have spliced into our feed, and they always show up, looking for easy organ donors.”

The memory of that canal pirate trying to rip off Cacy’s uniform flashed in Eli’s mind. That thug had looked like he had more on his mind than just impromptu surgery. Eli’s throat ached as he swallowed hard. “Was she hurt?”

“Nah, not seriously. But her candy-assed partner lost his kidneys and liver before she could do anything about it.” Len stared at him with a fierce expression. “You better keep your eyes open, boy. She doesn’t need to go through that again.”

Eli stared back. “I can take care of myself.”
And her, if she
needs it.

Len nodded. “You did all right.” He stepped up close to Eli and growled in his ear. “But if you touch her again like you did just now, I’ll get you transferred so fucking fast your head will spin.”

Every muscle in Eli’s body went tight.
He’d
just fought off canal pirates and saved two patients’ lives. Yeah, sure,
he’d
taken a little extra interest in whether his partner was okay, but
he
hadn’t been the one yapping about prying her legs open a few hours ago. Len probably did have the power to get him transferred to a far-flung station, though. It took every ounce of willpower Eli had, but he simply nodded stiffly.

Len took a few steps back, looking smug. “Glad we have an understanding. Now, get on with your decon. You never know when we’ll get another call.”

Eli gripped the Powderkleen bottle as Len strutted off toward the locker room, but his mind was already drifting back to Cacy. How long had she been at this job? Why had she chosen it over a sweet corporate position at Daddy’s company? Why would she risk her life like this if she didn’t have to? What made her so tough?
She’d
probably been raised in luxury, not the hardscrabble existence he and Galena had endured when they were growing up.

He washed down the inside of his rig, grateful for the meticulous, familiar activity. Cacy obviously wasn’t interested in Len. The guy was a domineering asshole, despite his excellent taste in mockolate. So what kind of guy
was
Cacy interested in? Eli ground his teeth as he tossed a bunch of enzymatic cleaning cloths into a biohazard bag. He shouldn’t even be wondering about that. Not with Len breathing down his neck, not with Cacy being his boss’s sister.

But as he tried to chase the memory of her seductive smile from his head, he realized his new job was going to be harder than
he’d
thought—for the last reason he would have worried about.