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My eyes narrowed. “Three hours ago they were supposedly off to the airport.”
His eyes met mine in the mirror. “Plans had to be shuffled. Pierce showed up here in a mood, then he got a call from Rachel. Kristi Charish surfaced in Portland this afternoon. That’s where they’re heading first now instead of the out-of-state funeral homes and other business.”
I let out a low whistle. After I managed to escape Charish’s lab, the Tribe had captured her and put her to work with Dr. Nikas. Then, a few months back, Nicole Saber—CEO of Saberton Corporation—ordered a major strike on the Tribe, during which they grabbed Charish, along with Pietro, Marcus, and two other zombies. We’d rescued Pietro and Marcus from the New York lab, but Charish and the other two zombies had been sent to the Saberton dedicated zombie research lab in Dallas. The Tribe conducted a raid there and successfully freed a number of zombie captives but failed to recapture Charish. As far as I knew, today’s appearance in Portland was the first time she’d been seen in months. No wonder Pierce had dropped everything to head to Oregon.
“If they do track her down, are they gonna . . .” I swiped my finger across my throat.
Philip grimaced, either at my question or his reflection. “I think they’d prefer to capture her. But our security resources are stretched thin at the moment, between Saberton, FBI scares, and the exodus project. Whatever our head honchos decide, they need to do it fast—and without making any waves—so they can move on to the next fire that needs dousing.”
My mind scrambled back a few seconds. “Wait. Exodus project? Exodus of what?”
He turned back to me, expression serious. “The Tribe. It’s vital that we have a plan in place in the event the Saberton or FBI shit hits the fan and it looks like we’re close to being exposed. The logistics of how and where to go to ground is the honchos’ big project.”
I gulped. “Temporarily, right? Until the threat blows over?”
“If and when we go, we vanish for good.”
“No.” I shook my head, mouth dry. “It won’t come down to that.” But it might. I couldn’t deny the possibility.
Philip exhaled. “Pierce says he goes through an exodus once or twice every hundred years, on average. Sometimes more often.”
“Whenever regular people find out about his Tribe’s zombie-ness,” I said in dismay. Mob mentality was ugly stuff. “But it’s in Saberton’s best interests to keep the zombies secret. Their hands are dirty. Plus, once word got out, every bio-tech or pharmaceutical company in the world would be racing to study the parasite in the hopes of making billions on cures of diseases and old age.” I licked dry lips. “Saberton wants that monopoly. And they’d likely get scooped on the whole super zombie soldier idea as well.” The ultimate point of Saberton’s secret and inhumane zombie research was to make a buttload of money from the parasite in any way possible. It helped my peace of mind to know that, if push came to shove, I had a passel of naked sex pics of Saberton CEO Nicole Saber that she knew I’d cheerfully upload to every website in the world if she screwed with us. But she wasn’t the only head on the Saberton monster, just the biggest one—at the moment.
“As it stands now, Saberton has no reason to out us,” Philip said with a nod of agreement. “But they’re only one worry.” He sighed. “The thing is, non-zombie friends and family members are notorious for stirring shit. That’s why Pierce advocates keeping the number of humans who know the real story to a minimum. That number has been growing recently.”
The truth of his words slid home like a knife to the gut. Families fell out over all sorts of things, eve
n after years of harmony. What better way to get back at the sister who slept with your husband than to expose her as a brain-eating monster? And, whether malicious or not, it would only take one wrong thing said to the wrong person to bring about a totally different kind of zombie apocalypse.
In the last six months, I myself had told two people about zombies—my dad and Pietro’s ex-fiancé, Congresswoman Jane Pennington. I trusted my dad with all my heart, and I’d trusted Jane as long as Pietro was alive. Unfortunately, I hadn’t seen her since Pietro’s faked death. I had no idea if Pierce had broken the news to her that he was her lost love in a hot new body. Jane was an amazing woman and deserved to know the truth, but a shocking revelation like that could be a deal breaker and put her on shakier ground.
Now I understood why Pierce had shot Marcus a look earlier today when I told them how Allen nearly caught me stealing brains. One step closer to discovery—and to exodus.
“Well, it’s good they’re making a plan. Like Bear and his survivalists stocking up on ammo and food and stuff in case aliens invade,” I said with fake cheeriness. “Disaster preparedness and all that. Like a fire drill.”
Sympathy swam in Philip’s eyes. “All I know is that a few weeks ago the exodus plans shot to top priority. Makes me think we’re on the verge, even if not yet there.”
My chest ached. “Pierce will keep all this under control. He always does. He’s just being cautious.” I waved my hand as if to disperse the unpleasant thoughts. “We’ll keep doing what we’ve been doing.”
“Angel, I’ve never seen Pierce overwhelmed. Ever. But after he got the report that Charish had turned up in Portland, he was like a shell of himself. Too much on his plate.”
I remembered his weary sigh at the funeral home—and that was before he’d been forced to add “hunt Kristi Charish” to his to-do list. Pierce looked young and vibrant, but it was easy to forget that he was old. Hundreds of years, at the very least. I used to think it would kick ass to be immortal, but now I wondered how horribly exhausting it must be, especially with his sense of responsibility for his people. “He’ll pull it together.”
Philip put on a reassuring smile. “Sure thing. No worries.” He said it as if he was humoring a kid, but I didn’t get mad. No matter how much I tried to deny it, the reality was that the Tribe did teeter close to being outed. Even if Nicole wanted to keep a lid on the zombie stuff, we still had to consider the Saberton guards and techs who witnessed or participated in atrocities against captive zombies. Mutilation. Amputations without anesthetic. Vivisection. What if one of those pieces of shit decided to sell secrets to another interested company? Or interested government? Or, what if one of them grew a conscience and decided to publicize the plight of the zombies? Then again, Nicole was smart enough to have anticipated all of those possibilities. Knowing that bitch, she had something nasty up her designer sleeve to keep her underlings in check.
But it would only take one credible person blabbing to destroy our way of life.
Philip swayed and grabbed at the exam table for support. “Sorry. I have to go rest and let this treatment do its job.”
“No prob.” I gave him a quick hug. “Take care of yourself.” Moving carefully, he left the treatment room. I waited until he was far down the hall then yanked the fridge open and pulled out the three vials of precious V12. The last three in existence. A tremble went through me as I stared at them, and I quickly closed my hand, suddenly terrified of dropping the vials and losing this last bit of the mod. I carefully tucked the full vials into the right side pocket of my cargo pants then stowed a new empty vial, a bottle of saline, and a syringe in the left.
I clenched my hands to control their shaking. Too much was happening at once. Exodus project? Permanent relocation? I didn’t want to leave St. Edwards Parish and my job and school. Hell, I’d finally settled into this whole responsible adult thing, and now I was supposed to start over?
And what about my dad? If family members were considered problematic, would the Tribe leave non-zombies behind? No way would I leave him. But if the situation was so bad the Tribe had to skedaddle, then my dad would be at risk simply for being my dad.
My pulse raced, and my chest tightened to where I could barely suck in a breath.
I can’t handle this right now. Running out of V12 forever. Giving up everything I have here. Leaving.
