Rolling his eyes, Rafe cupped his free hand to his mouth. “Hey, Sid, Ace here wants to know how long you’ve been a pig thing.”
Sid scowled. “Let me think…. Oh yeah, screw you, that’s how long.”
Rafe sent Everson an I tried shrug. “Being a freak makes him touchy.”
“What kind of sicko place is this?” Fairfax asked, his voice edged with hysteria.
“You came to us,” Hagen said coldly. “Broke through our gate, so if we make you uncomfortable, maybe it’s time for you to go.”
Fairfax didn’t seem to have heard her. He jabbed Rafe’s arm with his rifle. “What are those people doing standing so close to grupped-up ferals?”
“Well, they’re married.” Rafe nodded at the walrus-man and his wife. “And those two” — he pointed at a grizzly-man holding hands with a young woman — “they’ve been shacking up for a while now. She has a thing for furries. The hairier the better, right, Alice?” he called over.
“I hope the rogue rips out your heart, Rafe,” she retorted. “Oh wait, you don’t have one.”
“Huh.” He sat back. “Don’t know why she’s touchy.”
“Won’t she get infected?” I asked.
He shrugged. “As long as she doesn’t kiss him on the mouth or let him bite her, she’ll probably be okay. Well, till he goes feral. Then all bets are off.”
“Enough,” Bearly said. “Let’s go.” She climbed into the driver’s seat and revved the engine.
Hagen moved toward the jeep while taking her gun from its holster. “Rafe stays.” She cocked her head and the crowd surged forward to surround the jeep.
Rafe put a hand over his heart. “I’m touched.”
“Ev, get in the jeep,” Bearly hissed. “Now.”
But Everson couldn’t take his eyes off the manimals. “Record them, will you?” he whispered to me. “Every angle you can get. Dr. Solis will learn a lot more from seeing their mutations than from hearing Mack describe them.”
As I hit my dial’s record button, a man with a scaled face and a pointed snout flicked out his long, thin tongue. “Who’re you calling mutated?”
“You’re infected with armadillo!” Everson’s hands trembled as he holstered his gun and shifted the shoulder strap of a box labeled “med kit” so that it was in front of him. “I need a sample of your blood.”
Now it was the manimal who looked stunned. “What the heck for, ya weirdo?” He backed away from Everson.
“In case you haven’t noticed, Ev,” Bearly said in a low, lethal tone, “this situation is verging on unstable.”
Everson ignored her. “Your blood will bring us closer to developing a vaccine for Ferae, maybe even a cure,” he told the armadillo-man while taking a syringe and rubber-topped vial from the med kit.
The crowd erupted in excited chatter. Several voices rose over the rest, lobbing questions at Everson. The sudden shouting electrified all three guards. Everson edged back, Bearly popped the jeep into park and lifted her gun, while Fairfax totally lost it. He jumped onto the back of the jeep, waving his assault rifle. “The first freak that bleeds near me is getting a snout full of lead, and I am not kidding. In fact, move one inch closer and I will shoot your hairy freaking freak faces off.”
The buzz of the crowd turned hostile and they clustered more tightly around the jeep.
A muscle contracted in Everson’s jaw; however, he dropped the vial and syringe back into the med kit and snapped it shut. “All right, we’ll go.” He beckoned to me. “Come on, Lane.”
“Not until you free Rafe,” I said, even though I had no intention of leaving with the guards. “The compound needs him right now.” And I needed him uncuffed.
“You bet they do,” Rafe chimed in.
Everson stiffened in surprise. “You’re defending him after what he did?” His hand brushed my forearm. “He cut you.”
“He also saved my life.”
Fairfax was still on top of the jeep, brandishing his gun. “We’re taking the skag in. The captain promised fat bonus checks to the guards who catch him.”
“But you came here to get me,” I said.
“He did.” Bearly jerked her chin at Everson. “We’re here to make sure he gets back to camp in one piece.”
“Why?” Rafe asked. “What’s so special about him?”
Everson frowned and led me away from the jeep until we were out of earshot. “I’m working on another way to help your dad. One that won’t get you infected or killed.”
A small tendril of hope uncurled inside of me. I wanted to rely on him, but that was a dangerous desire. Everson didn’t understand the scale of the problem — couldn’t — because he hadn’t witnessed Director Spurling’s determination to get what she wanted. “Unless you have another way right now, I can’t take that chance.”
“What?” He sounded astonished. Guess most people didn’t reject his help. “But I — How does staying here help Mack?”
“Rafe said he’d get the photograph for me.”
“You believe that?” Everson scoffed. “After he just gave you up to save himself?”
Did I believe it? I looked at Rafe…. Well, no. And considering the way my notion of reality kept shattering and reforming with each new piece of information, I didn’t expect to trust anybody anytime soon. Still, one truth hadn’t budged — if my father was going to escape execution, someone had to fetch Spurling’s photo.
“I don’t even want to think about what that lowlife has planned for you,” Everson growled.
“What are you two whispering about?” Rafe yelled. It seemed the standoff between the crowd and the guards was beginning to make even him nervous.
“I know he’s not the most trustworthy person on the planet, but he’s willing to do the fetch for my dad.”
“Forget the fetch.” Everson paused, his wide shoulders shifting. “My mother has clout … political clout. Let me see what she can do for Mack. There are better — smarter — ways to help your dad. Ways that don’t require a machete,” he added, gesturing to the weapon in my hand.
He was offering me a real solution. The inside of my skull filled with floating dots, and my legs started to tingle. Everson seemed so confident and capable in his Kevlar body armor. He could take me away from this dangerous place of snuffling, shuffling manimals and bring my father home safely as well. But did his mother really have the clout to help my dad? And even if she did, why would she? She didn’t know me or my father. What if Everson couldn’t persuade her to help us? As good as his intentions were, I couldn’t risk it.
“Cruz, stop jawing and let’s get out of this slum hole.” Fairfax hopped off the back of the jeep.
I shoved the machete into my messenger bag. Everson was right about one thing, though. Blindly trusting Rafe was stupid.
“Slum hole, huh?” a voice rasped.
I looked back at the jeep. The armadillo-man had resurfaced at the front of the crowd. He flicked his tongue at Fairfax, coming within an inch of his nose. Bellowing with disgust, the guard jerked up his gun and took aim. “You want to be put down, animal?”
“Fairfax, stand down!” Everson shouted.
A sick feeling bloomed in my stomach. The guards were here because of me and now it was looking more likely they weren’t going to make it back to Arsenal unscathed.
“We’re leaving, okay?” Everson told Fairfax and started toward him. Over his shoulder, he said, “Come on, Lane. No one here can help you.”
“You’re right.” I shouldn’t have kidded myself for even a second that I could put my dad’s life in someone else’s hands, sit back, and hope for the best. “I have help myself, and I’ll need your jeep.”