She didn’t speak for so long, he wondered if she’d fallen asleep. When her voice broke the silence, it was like a caress in the dark.
“We’re gonna fix this, Elias. We’ll clean it up.”
He huffed. “Know how to do that?”
“Yes. I told you. I’ve got people.” He felt her smile against his chest. “My boys. Coop, Ans, Von. We’ve got others now, too. Couple of scientists, a doc. A chef.”
“Strange combination.”
“Is it?” She snuggled deeper. “It’s a great combination. Angel, Ford Cooper’s girlfriend, cooks the most unbelievable meals for us on the platform. Like—”
“Platform?”
“We’re based offshore.”
“Are you making this up?”
Her laughter bumped her chest against his side. He wanted her to slide back on top. She wouldn’t do it. And she’d be right not to. They needed to save their energy for things like, oh, survival. But wouldn’t it be nice to forget about survival for a while, to lose himself in Leo?
“It’s real. Polaris platform. It’s where our operations are based.”
“Your operations?”
“We’re a security firm.”
“Someone hired you to come here?”
She shook her head, each movement nudging that spot right over his heart. “No. This is more of a…personal mission.”
“For who?”
“All of us.” She lifted her head. “A bunch of us almost died because of Chronos and the Frondvirus. We’re not so into that. Decided to make it stop.”
He let out a cynical snort. “Good luck.”
“Got to you first, didn’t we?” There was definite pride when she spoke. “And…” She paused. “We’ve got some advantages.”
“Yeah? Like having the actual virus in your possession?”
“Exactly.”
“How’d that happen?”
“Long story.”
“They know you have it?”
Her self-satisfied “nope” allowed him to breathe again.
He stared up at the stars for a few seconds, trying to piece it all together. “Why are you here if you already have it?”
“Just because we have a sample doesn’t mean there’s not more out there. We want to stopthemfrom getting their hands on it. To stop the killing.”
“It’ll never stop.” Hollowed out by death, despair, and hopelessness, the words were a sibilant proclamation. No vowels made it through his tight vocal chords.
“I don’t belong to that school of thought, Elias.”
He grunted a question.
