She rushed for the dresser and shoved it in front of the door.
“Better. Get some sleep, darlin’. I’ll be back.”
Chapter Seven
I fuckin’ hate this bacterium.
—Tace Justice
Several hours after he’d had to leave a willing woman in his bed, the woman he’d been dreaming about for far too long, Tace leaned against the wall and stretched his back, his gaze on his silent patient. The guy had been bitten by a Ripper and thus had been infected with Scorpius. The damn bacteria lived in saliva and other bodily fluids, and for some reason, the really crazy Rippers liked to bite. Nobody confused them with zombies, though.
They were just insane humans. Poor bastards.
He’d sewn one guy up with about a hundred stitches, and now he slept peacefully against the south wall. The two guys he’d operated on were in the other room, and now he just had to worry about this poor soul.
At about fifty years old, the guy had gray hair and loose skin. His nose was a bit bulbous. Had probably been a drinker.
Tace eyed the dawn breaking outside the room, tapping his fingers against his belt three times. It was always three times. Soon the sun would be bright enough to dispense with the light created by the generators. He wondered how much fuel the Mercs had stockpiled. It’d be worth a look to find out.
His body had rioted all night, while his head had remained calm. Sami in his bed . . . saying yes. It would’ve been a mistake he would have enjoyed. Would she give him another chance? If he finally got inside her, maybe he could stop dreaming about her and return to normal. Well, normal for these days.
Greyson Storm strode into the room, fatigue lining his face and a cup of coffee balanced in his hand. He gave it to Tace.
The strong-smelling brew nearly made him groan. Tace took several drinks and allowed warmth to settle in his gut. Someday the world would be out of such delights, and he didn’t even want to think about how quickly that would happen. “I thought you guys were out of coffee?”
“Raid last night. Have enough for the rest of the week now.” Greyson had found an old Metallica T-shirt to throw on somewhere. He stretched his neck and glanced toward the ex-drunk fighting the fever. “How is he?”
“Hopped up on vitamin B and Darvocet at the moment.” Tace angled his head to double check the restraints holding the guy to the bed. “He had a restless phase, and his fever is up to 105. We’ve tried medication and somewhat cold compresses to cool him down. It’s not looking good.”
“Damn it.” Greyson breathed out. “I figured Vanguard was lying low until Scorpius finished spreading before moving north, but is it ever going to finish spreading and creating Rippers?”
“Dunno. So long as there are uninfected people, I guess it could keep spreading.” Tace grimaced. “Frankly, we don’t know that all of us will remain sane. Vitamin B keeps some of us from going crazy for a while, but it could be a temporary fix, you know? Maybe we’ll all just go nuts and turn into serial killers.”
“You’re a fucking ray of sunshine in the morning,” Grey said slowly.
“You’re not the first to say so.” There had been a time when he was the cheerful one in his unit every morning—when he had the land of his fathers to return home to. Scorpius had changed more than his brain. “Sami and I are leaving tomorrow. That plan remains the same, no matter what new disaster occurs here.”
“Understood.” Greyson glanced toward the doorway. “Where is your pretty weapon?”
Tace frowned. “Weapon?” He’d thought of Sami in many terms but not that one.
Greyson arched an eyebrow. “Oh, I saw her fight the other day. She’s definitely a weapon.”
“Humph.” Tace nodded. He liked that description of her. “She’s still sleeping and definitely needs rest. We haven’t had enough in too long.”
“Yeah. I get that.” Grey ground a palm into his left eye. “I’m too tired and pissed to be smooth about this, but I want Maureen Shadow back here working on the food supply. I’m willing to trade for her.”
Tace cocked his head to the side, reading the Merc leader’s body language. He was angry and exhausted . . . and trying to sound nonchalant. “We don’t trade people.”
“Then I’m willing to hire her. Pay for her services. Exchange some of my goods or people for her services. I don’t give a meager fuck how we define the situation. But Moe needs to be back here and working on food development in those damn greenhouses, or we all starve, including Vanguard.”
Tace stilled. “So it’s Moe, is it? What exactly happened between you two when you kept her captive?” Did Maureen have a story to tell that would put Vanguard and the Mercs at war? If so, he needed to get Sami the hell out of there.
Greyson’s arms dropped, and he gave Tace a look. “Seriously? Nothing happened. The closest we came to anything happening was she rushed me with a knife, and I took it away. Without bruising her, by the way.” He rubbed his jaw. “Well, she also knocked two of my guards out one night trying to escape.” Amusement lowered his tone.
Tace lifted back. Whoa. “You like her.”
“Sure.” Greyson rolled his eyes. “I kidnapped her, and she tried to cut me. Strong and feisty. Plus, she’s probably the foremost expert in food development still living on earth. What’s not to like?”
