Safe (The Shielded Series Book 1) (4 page)

Foster chewed his bottom lip. It wasn’t any of her business why he was on
the outside, but something inside him didn’t want her to rush off. Explaining
his trip to the streets would get her to stay a few more minutes. He rather
enjoyed having a live, flesh and blood female in his domicile. She was far more
interesting than the hologram partners he turned too every now and again to
take the edge off. They were programmed to bend to his wishes, his demands.

Officer Lazitter didn’t strike him as one to bend. She’d challenge and
question. Why did he find that so arousing?

He unzipped his pocket and extracted his tablet. “You obviously know I’m
working on a cure for the plague.”

She nodded as she approached him. “They say you’re the only one who can
find it.”

“That may be so,” he said as he sat on his couch and motioned for her to
do the same.

She hesitated for a moment, appearing to have an internal conversation
with herself, then walked over and lowered to the cushion beside him.

Trying his best to ignore the physical reactions her close proximity
caused, Foster fired up his tablet and scrolled through pictures. Finding the
one he wanted, he angled the tablet toward her.

“I needed this,” he said, deciding a picture of the sample would suffice.
He didn’t want to risk showing her the real thing still buried in his other
pocket.

She took the tablet and stared at the red powder. “Is this… ?” She squinted
at him then back to the image. “Is this from a body?”

He nodded. “I need samples of what the plague does to the human body in
order to test my cures.”

“Surely someone else can get this for you.” She handed him the tablet and
shifted over on the couch, no doubt wondering if he were contagious after being
close enough to an infected body to collect such samples.

“Why risk getting the plague myself you mean?”

“Yeah, if you get it, then we’re all screwed.” She gathered all that hair
of hers and twisted it into a knot at the base of her neck. Her face was even
more beautiful now that her hair didn’t hide it.

“I’m not going to get it.”

“We all hope we’re not going to get it. Zeke and I are super careful and
stay away from the active zones. Ghared too, but that’s no guarantee. We’re all
at risk.”

She shuddered a little beside him, and Foster now wanted to find the cure
more than he did before. For people like Darina and her son. People just trying
to live their lives the best way they could, considering the circumstances.

“I’m not going to get it,” he said again.

“Money doesn’t make you immune, rich bastard.”

“No, but being a GEC does.”

****

“You?” Darina rubbed her ear as if it had suddenly been taken over by an
alien technology that made her hear things that couldn’t possibly be true.
“You’re a GEC?”

Foster nodded once, his eyes focused on the tablet resting on his thigh.

“And GECs are immune to the plague?”

“Yes. The plague targets DNA code that genetically engineered individuals
do not have.”

“
All
GECs are immune?” Zeke? She didn’t have to worry her Zeke
would get the disease?

“Every last one of them. It’s impossible for us to contract the disease.
Our bodies can’t host it.” He wiggled the tablet in his hand where the image of
the red powder was still on the screen. “I could roll around in this stuff and
not get sick.”

Darina sifted out a long breath. Zeke wouldn’t get sick. One worry off
her gargantuan list of worries. Excellent.

“Does Warres know GECs are immune?”

Foster shook his head. “I don’t believe so. If he did, he’d already have
unleashed a new strain to target us. Most GECs are in hiding, so I think he
hasn’t considered them.”

“How do you know all GECs can’t get the virus?”

At this question, Foster shifted uncomfortably, as if he didn’t know what
to say or he was hiding something. Typical. Rich bastards didn’t know the
meaning of the word
truth.

“I just know,” he said.

“Tight-lipped on that, but just tossed it out in the open that you’re a
GEC. Why would you tell me? You don’t know me.” That was dangerous information
to share with someone he’d just met. As he’d said, most GECs were in hiding. She
prayed every day no one ever found out about Zeke.

“I don’t know why I told you.” He shrugged one shoulder, looking a little
shy, and she instantly got the feeling Dr. Foster Ashby didn’t have many human
connections. “Maybe because you’re a cop. Maybe because you got me back here
safely. Maybe because the secret is eating me up inside. Maybe because I trust
you for some reason.”

Darina stood. Sitting so close to him on his couch had suddenly become
way too personal. “You can’t trust anyone.”

“You won’t expose me, will you?” He followed her to the door, a note of
unease in his voice now.

She turned to face him. He was close again and the clean smell of him
swirled pleasantly around her. She had to raise her head a little to look him
in the eyes. His green gaze was intense, zeroed in on her eyes, locked. One
step forward by either of them and their lips could touch.

Why am I thinking of touching his lips?

No time for that stuff. And hadn’t she told him not to trust anyone? That
went double for her. Especially stupid to trust a rich bastard.

But smart to see if a rich bastard can help me.

“I won’t tell anyone if you can do something for me,” she said.  

“A bargain?” His eyes dropped down to her lips. “Name it. I owe you for
your protection today.”

She waved that off and ignored how her body had heated under his gaze.
“Emerge Tech has that debt covered.” Maybe it hadn’t been such a terrible job
either. She’d learned Zeke was safe from the plague. Valuable information
indeed. “My son…”

“Zeke?”

He’d been listening.

“Yeah, Zeke.” She brushed some stone dust off her tank top and wondered if
she looked like a city rat. Here in Foster’s tidy domicile, she felt like a
giant dirt stain. “Well, he has these episodes. Seizures. They come on out of
nowhere and exhaust him.”

“He’s epileptic?”

Darina nodded. “The seizures are awful to witness. His eyes go blank, his
entire body tenses up, and the shaking is wild.” She shook her head, trying to
clear the image of Zeke in full seizure mode. Unfortunately, that image would
never clear. Every time she looked at him, she saw him in this state and wished
she could take the experience away for him.

“How long do the seizures last?” Foster hadn’t stepped back at all,
hadn’t given her any space, and she needed some. Desperately.

But she didn’t move either.

“When he was younger, they were short, lasting only a few moments. He’d
be a little sleepy, but a short nap would revive him, and he’d be back to his
usual self. Since he was about thirteen, however, they started happening more
often and lasting longer. Afterward, he’s shot. He’ll sleep for a whole day and
have no appetite. Sometimes his speech is slurred.”

“Sometimes the onset of puberty can worsen the condition,” Foster said.
“Does he have any memory issues after a seizure?”

“He says he doesn’t remember having the seizure, which in my mind is a
good thing.” She swallowed loudly, her throat stinging. “Seeing him like that
is… difficult.” Blinking rapidly, she fought to keep her tears to herself. No
reason to come unglued in front of Dr. Rich Bastard.

Only he didn’t seem like a bastard. Not the way he was listening to her
and asking relevant questions as if he truly intended to help her.

When his hand rested on her shoulder, she jerked back, hitting the door
behind her. He immediately retracted his hand, looking at his palm as if he
wasn’t quite sure how it had gotten on her shoulder in the first place.

“I can give you medicine to prevent seizures. I just need a few minutes
to make it. Can you wait?” He put both his hands in his pockets now.

Did he put his hands away for him or for me?

“I can wait. Thank you.”

“It’s no trouble.” He stepped away, heading for the door he’d said led to
a lab. Looking over his shoulder, he asked, “Actually, do you want to see how
it’s made?”

Something inside her definitely wanted to see Foster at work. “Sure.”

“This way.” He took his tablet and punched in a code Darina couldn’t see.
Waving the tablet over a black rectangle by the door unlocked it. “Lights.” At
his voice command, lighting flooded the room beyond the door. “After you.” He
gestured for her to go in first then followed right behind her.

The walls were covered in huge touch screens with some panels covered in
text. Others had complicated equations Darina couldn’t begin to understand.
Along another wall were shelves with bottles, boxes, and jars. She couldn’t
read half of the scientific words emblazoned on the sides and felt dumber than
she had in a long time.

Out on the streets she considered herself intelligent. She knew where
everything was, how to get food and other supplies, how to track a criminal,
and a whole host of other useful skills.

In this lab—in Foster’s world—she knew shit. They lived in different
universes.

“Maybe I should wait out there.” She pointed through the door to his
living room.

“Is this room making you uncomfortable?” He paused in selecting bottles
and jars from the shelves.

“Being inside Emerge Tech’s walls is making me uncomfortable.” Normally
she wouldn’t admit such a thing to anyone.

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” he asked, setting his materials
on a long table in the middle of the lab. “Living out in what’s left of the
city is tough. In here, it’s easy. We have everything we need and most of what
we want. It’s clean. It’s safe.”

“It’s not real.”

He stopped in his work and stared at her. “It feels pretty real to me.”
He ran his hand along the table in front of him. “This table is real.” He
grabbed the bottle by his hand. “This bottle and its contents are real.” He
pointed his hands at himself then at her. “I’m real. You’re real.”

“But it’s a lie, Doc. Outside Emerge Tech walls and its security field,
the world is crumbling, brick by brick, body by body.”

His dark eyebrows lowered. “Not if I can help it.” His determination made
her want to believe. Want to hope the world could be saved by this man.

He finished making the medicine and poured it into a bottle, sealing it
with a dropper cap. After cleaning his workspace, he skirted around the table
to her position by the door, which she hadn’t left. He took her right hand and
pressed the bottle into her palm. His hand was warm and solid, and the contact
tightened places deep within Darina’s body.

Closing her fingers around the bottle, he said, “One drop of this a day
and Zeke should be seizure free.”

“No seizures at all? Really?” She met his gaze and was again struck by
the color of his eyes. Such a strange light green. Had his genetically
engineered cocktail made those eyes on purpose? Or had it been one of the many
mistakes genetic engineering also made?

“Really.” He led her out of the lab, commanding the lights off and
locking the door behind them. “That should last you for a while. If you need
more, you know where to find me. I can let the guards at the gates know you’re
allowed in.”

“Thank you.”
Why was he being so nice? Why wasn’t he a rich bastard
like the rest of them?
He couldn’t be as perfect as he appeared. Something
had to be wrong with him.

“Why were you cast off?” Her boldness was probably going to get her
kicked out of his domicile, but she had to ask.

The sad smile on his lips made her chest ache, and she wanted to take the
question back. He stepped into his kitchen and retrieved something by the sink.
When he was back in front of her, he held out a bottle exactly like the one
he’d given her for Zeke.

“You have seizures too?” No wonder he was so willing to help.

He shook his head. “I used to have them. I don’t anymore and neither will
Zeke.” Worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, he asked, “He’s a GEC too,
isn’t he?”

Something in his eyes made her nod once.

“Your secret is safe with me, Officer Lazitter. It takes a special brand
of bravery—or stupidity—to take in a GEC.” He offered her a slight smile that
had her entire body buzzing. “Either way, I respect people like you who care
for people like me. I wouldn’t be here today if someone hadn’t taken me in as
you’ve taken in Zeke.”

What made her think closing the distance between them and throwing her
arms around him was a good idea she’d never know, but it happened before her
logical brain could stop her. When his arms came around her back and he
squeezed gently, she thought maybe it hadn’t been a mistake at all.

They stood like that for a few moments before common sense kicked in and
she released him. He held on for a second longer then dropped his arms.

“Thanks again,” she whispered, her gaze tracing lines along the tattoo on
his neck.

He motioned to the tattoo. “I’ll tell you why I got this if you tell me
about yours.” He took her hand and traced the ring of black stars on her left
forearm.

She closed her eyes as the pad of his index finger ran along the stars.
She allowed herself to enjoy the caress for a moment. How long had it been
since someone had touched her? Too long, and never with such tenderness. Her
last official relationship had ended horribly, but what had she expected? Few
good things existed in the world anymore.   

Opening her eyes, she said, “Another time, Doc.” She turned and opened
his domicile door.

With a deafening roar they hadn’t been able to hear inside, scorching
orange flames reached out from the hallway and threatened to grab her.

Foster grabbed Darina by the upper arms and yanked her back into his
domicile, swinging the door shut.

“He’s here,” she said, patting out the smoking leg of her cargo pants.

“Probably not him personally. He’s not that stupid. Unfortunately, Mikale
Warres is brilliant.”

“Yeah, but he lacks street smarts.” Darina grinned, making him want to
have her in his arms again. That embrace had been completely unexpected, but
thoroughly welcomed. “We need to get you back to the outside if Warres’s crew
is inside.”

“We?”

She faced him, her hazel eyes pinning him in place. “Look, I want a
better world for Zeke. You’ve already helped with this medicine.” She patted
the pocket on her cargo pants. “If you can cure the world of the plague, you
need to do that. You can’t do that if you’re dead.”

She jogged across the living room and, with a deep inhale, peered out the
windows. Craning her head up, she asked, “Are we on the top floor?”

“Yes. The roof is right above us.”

“You have direct access to the roof then?” She walked back toward him.

“In my office.” Foster led her to the room and opened the closet where a
set of steps spiraled upward.

“Phone?”

He dug out his tablet, punched in the security code and opened his phone
app. “Who are we calling?”

“Our ride. We need out of this building before that fire brings it down
or Warres’s men get to you.”

“Emerge Tech has its own defense team.” Foster held up his tablet. “I can
just call them.”

Darina shook her head. “I’m not sure we can trust Emerge Tech right now.”

“They don’t want me dead.”

“The company doesn’t, but perhaps an individual does.”

Maybe she had a point. There were people who agreed with Warres’s plans.
Certainly some of those people could be within Emerge Tech’s walls. It was
unlikely, but this wasn’t a time to play with the odds.

“Do we have time to wait for a ride?” He handed her the tablet, a little
shocked he’d actually let another person touch the device. Normally, it was on
his person at all times and he guarded it with his life.

Why do I feel so comfortable around her?
It didn’t make a bit of
sense.

“The pilot I’m going to call doesn’t exactly know how to drive slowly.”
She flexed her left hand, the ring of stars tattoo undulating on her skin.

“Can we trust him?” Hadn’t she just told him to trust no one?

“He’s one of two people I trust.” Her thumbs hovered over the screen. “The
question is, where will we go? Warres can get to you in the city or in here.
He’s proven that today.” She frowned. “Why hasn’t he come after you before?”

Foster puffed out a breath as he raked his hand through his hair. How
much should he tell her? “Warres and I used to be very tight. I don’t think he
wants
to kill me, but he knows I’m getting close to finding the cure. Letting me
live is no longer an option for him.” Sad to think his former best friend had
put a mark on his head. At one point in their lives, their friendship was all
they’d had. They’d kept each other going, challenged each other, reached new
levels unthinkable in science.

Now the closest thing he’d had to a brother wished him dead.   

An overhead sprinkler sprayed water down on them, and Foster scrunched up
his shoulders against the artificial rain. Darina pulled him into the stairway
where there were no sprinklers.

Wiping his face, Foster said, “I have a place we can go, but it’s not
local.”

What am I doing?
He never let anyone go where he was thinking.
That place was for him and a small group of… friends. Officer Darina Lazitter
was
not
a member of that small group.

And she wasn’t exactly a friend.

She narrowed her eyes. “How ‘not local’?”

“Vermont.”

Muscles in her face tensed as she considered his reply. “It’ll have to
do.”

“I can get myself there. You should leave. It’s not safe to be around me.”
He didn’t want to endanger her life. She had a boy depending on her, a boy
whose life she’d changed with her care. If Darina was taken from Zeke because
of him, Foster would never forgive himself.

She shook her head. “I haven’t finished the job. You’re not safe yet.”

“Surely getting me here was good enough.” Though he didn’t want her to go.
Not at all. Sharing his burden with someone lightened the load.

“I don’t do ‘good enough,’ Dr. Ashby.” She tapped on his tablet’s screen
then reached past him to close the closet door, sealing them in the stairwell
and keeping out the dark smoke that had crept into his domicile.

“Call me Foster, please.” No need for formalities if they were going to
be spending more time together.
How much time?
And why did he want that?

“So we’re friends now?” She rolled her eyes. “Is there anything in your
domicile you absolutely need to complete your work?”

He gestured to the tablet still in her hand. “That’s all I need.”

“Light traveler. Excellent.”

The tablet vibrated, and she looked down at it. “My buddy, Ghared, will
meet us on the roof in five minut—”

A loud siren cut off her words. The sound banged around in Foster’s head,
making him wince. He spent so much time alone, sequestered in his lab, that his
ears weren’t used to such noise.

Darina, on the other hand, sat on one of the steps, looking totally
unaffected. She grinned up at him. “This is nothing,” she yelled. “You should
hear Zeke snore after a seizure.”

He actually laughed. His domicile would be consumed by flames any moment
now. Warres’s men were probably nearby, waiting for the building to crumble and
confirm his death. His research could fall into the hands of the enemy, and the
human population would be wiped out by the plague, but here he was in a
stairwell, laughing with a police officer he’d only met hours ago.

What is happening?

He’d thought the world had gone mad after the Unplug and Mikale unleashing
his disease, but clearly Foster had only, just now, lost his mind.

The siren stopped, and he checked his ears for blood while Darina waved
his tablet at him.

“Here,” she said. “I don’t want to be responsible for this. I’ll protect
you, but
you
have to protect your research.”

“Delegating. Smart.” He shoved the tablet back into his pocket and prayed
it’d be safe as he zipped it closed. “Were you a cop before?”

“Before the Anarch? Yeah.”

“Did you join the search for them or the fighting?” He could easily
picture her engaging the enemy head on, guns blazing.

She shook her head and got a faraway look in her eyes, then she met his
gaze. “No. I would have.” She flexed her left hand as she had before. “I was…
injured at the time.”

He waited for her to say more, but she didn’t. Instead she glanced up the
stairs. “Let’s get to the roof.”

She led the way and Foster stayed close behind her. At the door to the
roof, Darina hesitated.

“Don’t think about it,” he said. “As far as your mind knows we’re on
ground level.”

“Ground level, yes. No way we’d plummet to our deaths at ground level.”
She nodded and proceeded out the door. “Of course, we could die in an
all-consuming fire instead.”

“Not on my agenda for today.” He nudged her toward the middle of the roof
in hopes flames would not blow the door behind him clear off its hinges.

Darina took out her weapon and scanned the area, squinting up to the sky.
“C’mon, Ghared. I don’t like being out in the open like this.”

Seconds after she’d uttered the words, a light droning grew in volume. Before
Foster could ask a question, a hovercopter appeared out of nowhere and wobbled
over the roof.

“Let’s go.” Darina’s voice was full of authority, as if she did this sort
of thing all the time.

Maybe she does.
How would he know? He didn’t know anything about
her. Only that she was a cop—probably an amazing one. She had a son she saved
from dismantlement and obviously cared about greatly. She didn’t like rich
bastards.

That last one bugged him. Yes, he was rich. Emerge Tech paid handsomely
for the work he did. He had all the major comforts of the wealthy. As he’d told
her though, he wasn’t a bastard.

At least I try hard not to be.

Was it possible he didn’t realize he was, in fact, a bastard? Had he been
avoiding that categorization? Had he been too wrapped up in his work to see he
was an asshole? Did being wrapped up in one’s work make someone a bastard?

What does it matter?

Bastard. Not a bastard. The only thing that mattered right now was staying
alive long enough to finish the cure. He was too damn close to fail.

Darina’s hair whipped around as the hovercopter touched down on the roof.
She ran for the aircraft and ripped open a door on the side. Turning back
toward him, she waved him over.

Foster hadn’t been aware of the distance between himself and Darina. He’d
fallen behind in his bastard-not bastard internal debate. As he looked at the
hovercopter, however, he groaned. The vehicle appeared to have been patched
with parts from about twenty different machines, none of them matching or
exactly fitting together with a perfect seal. It didn’t look as if it could
stay up in the air for very long.

And how had it gotten past Emerge Tech’s walls and security field?

He was about to tell Darina he’d organize for other transport, but she’d
already hopped into the hovercopter. She clearly had faith in its ability—and
its pilot’s ability—to get them the hell out of there, despite her fear of
heights. She leaned forward to the cockpit where Foster now realized
two
people
sat, not just the pilot. When her head popped back out, she waved him over
again with a
hurry up
expression on her face.

And he wanted to hurry up. He really did. He wasn’t imagining the growing
heat beneath his feet. If he stayed any longer, he’d be toast.

But letting these people into my sanctuary?

He didn’t like this.

He didn’t like being dead more.

Foster sprinted toward the hovercopter. When he reached it, an explosion
vibrated the building beneath him. He stumbled and fell to the roof a few yards
from the waiting aircraft, banging his forehead when his arms didn’t move fast
enough to prevent the impact. As he attempted to get to his feet, the roof
caved in to his right. He rolled to his left and gazed up at the sky clouded
with smoke and ash. The sky inside Emerge Tech’s walls never looked like that.
The air purifiers made the sky an ever-present blue, intense and reminiscent of
a summer Boston afternoon circa 2015.

The black plumes of smoke mesmerized him. He couldn’t blink, couldn’t
move. A fleeting thought that this was the end made regrets rocket through
Foster’s mind.

Why hadn’t he abandoned the city altogether and stayed in Vermont?

Why had he worked so hard and played so little?

Why hadn’t he at least tried to find someone to love?

Too late. He was meat cooking on the rooftop now.

A tug on his arm made him angle his head toward the still-waiting
hovercopter. Darina crouched by his head, her hair a wild storm around her
face—her beautiful, concerned face.

“C’mon, Foster!” she shouted above the roaring in his ears.

His name sounded wonderful coming from her lips. He wouldn’t mind hearing
her say it again. Sitting up, he waited for the roof to stop spinning, but that
didn’t seem to be happening. He brought his hand up to where his forehead had
hit the roof and his fingers came away bloody.

“Shit.”

“A little flesh wound. You can zap heal it on the hovercopter,” Darina
said. “We’re all going to have major flesh wounds if we don’t get the hell out
of here like now.”

Foster rolled to his knees, trying desperately to clear his head with no
success. He managed to stand and focused on the rickety hovercopter and what he
could now see of the long-haired pilot.

A short beard surrounded the pilot’s jaw, but a long slash ran through
the scruff along his right cheek. No hair grew there, indicating it was
probably the remnant of an unpleasant injury. He was solid and a bit more
muscled than Foster. A sleeveless gray shirt that revealed a full sleeve tattoo
on his right arm covered his torso. The ink appeared to start under the shirt
somewhere and from what Foster could see, it looked like a barbed-wire design
with... with… were those skeletons trying to free themselves from behind the
wire?

Okay then.
  

The guy had a pair of headphones around his neck and his icy blue stare
said,
I’ll mess you up if given the chance.

“Time to jet, Foster.” Darina reached out her right hand and wiggled her
fingers. “Do you trust me?”

Another explosion rattled the building beneath them as flames shot out of
the ventilation system.

He didn’t have the option not to trust her.

****

Why did Darina want Foster to take her hand so badly? She couldn’t make
sense of her need to keep this guy safe. Sure, she’d kept people safe for most
of her police career, but something was different when it came to this doctor.

Maybe it had something to do with the medicine in her pocket—medicine
that could significantly improve Zeke’s life. Maybe it had something to do with
the fact that Foster hadn’t hesitated when she’d asked him about helping with
the seizures. Maybe it had to do with Foster being a GEC like Zeke with the
same affliction even.    

Maybe it had to do with the way he’d looked at her when he’d traced the
stars around her forearm in his domicile.

No time for this.

“Foster, c’mon. This roof isn’t going to hold much longer.” She took
another step closer, wary of the gaping hole in the roof beside Foster. Heat
and smoke poured from it as well as other places on the roof.