Hugh tried to move and then realized he was tied to a chair—nowhere near the control room of the nuclear power plant. How had they moved him? He looked around. He sat in a chair in what looked like a metal storage facility. Yusef sat in another chair over in the corner, typing into a tablet. Against the opposite wall, a stunning redhead with green eyes watched Hugh impassively, her perfectly manicured hands at her hips.
“Where am I?” Hugh asked. His head pounded with strong hammer strokes.
“To answer your questions, I’m Orion, and this is a temporary stop,” the guy said, pulling up another metal chair so they were almost knee to knee. “Or your grave, I guess.”
Well, fuck. Hugh looked at his right shoulder, not surprised to see blood all over his shirt. He’d gotten hit again? “You shot me, asshole,” he said mildly to Yusef.
The guy didn’t even look up from his tablet.
“He doesn’t talk much,” Orion said.
Hugh squinted a little, feeling lightheaded. “But you do. What the hell was your name?” His brain was fuzzy.
“Orion,” the guy said.
Hugh snorted. “That’s freakin odd. Very.”
“I earned it the hard way,” Orion said, his voice a low rumble. The more he talked, the more he sounded like a native Kentuckian.
Huh. This guy was nowhere near Hugh’s radar and had never been. “You attacked the plant?”
“Yep.” Orion smiled, flashing perfectly tended white teeth.
“I’ve never heard of you.”
Orion nodded. “I’ve stayed away from notoriety. Just prepping for the opportunity.”
Prepping? Had he just said “prepping?” Hugh frowned. “Like those guys who store food and ammunition in the woods, pretending to be soldiers?”
“We’re not pretending. Just waiting for an opportunity created by God,” Orion said.
Wait a minute. Hugh slowly shook his pounding head. “You’re an apocalyptic prepper. Seriously? One just waiting for a chance to harm people.”
Orion leaned back. “No. Of course not.”
What the hell was happening? “Did I hit my head?”
“Yes. After you got shot. It was hell getting you out of the plant before your friends caught up with us,” Orion said. “They really should vacate the premises now.”
Shit. Ellie. Hugh struggled against the restraints, biting back pain as his shoulder protested. Vehemently. “Okay. Let me get this straight. You’re a terrorist because you’ve been given the opportunity?” Why was the world so cloudy? How hard had he hit his head, anyway?
Orion rubbed broad hands down his dark jeans. “No. I’ve been prepping and getting ready for the apocalypse for some time. After studying the issue, I’ve determined that the only way my people will survive is if we cut down on competition for meager resources.”
Nausea rolled in Hugh’s gut. “So you’re killing a hundred thousand people and making this area unlivable? That makes sense to you?” He glanced at the woman.
She looked to Orion. “He knows what he’s doing. Orion will save us all.”
Jesus. “You’re stuck in a cult, sweetheart,” Hugh muttered, shaking his head. “This is ridiculous.” He leaned to the side to see Yusef, the guy who had once really been on Hugh’s radar. “How’d you get back into the country, anyway?”
“He had help,” Orion said. “The man knows his way around computers, so I recruited him. But he doesn’t really believe in our calling. Our paths just converged.” Casually, almost slowly, Orion pulled a gun from his boot and pressed it to his knee. “I told him he could kill you when we were done chatting.”
“I do love a good chat,” Hugh said calmly, trying not to puke. This man was freaky nuts. “Had some training, have you?”
“Most of us at the Haven have.”
Hugh blinked. “The Haven. I’ve heard of you.” When he’d been undercover. Gregor had mentioned the group. So they really did exist. As a prepping cult preparing for the apocalypse. Life just kept getting weirder.
Orion’s eyebrow rose. “That’s interesting. I thought we’d been silent.”
