The Lair

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Carter

I didn’t know if I’d actually convinced Wilson and Trinia, but at the very least Trinia was no longer yelling at me and trying to gouge my eyes out. That was an improvement, right?

The not-having-my-eyes-gouged-out wasn’t much comfort when I got the news from Taylor: The generator couldn’t be expected to hold for more than another night, even if we turned off everything but the fences. Which meant we had less than twenty-four hours to devise an exit strategy. Without sounding like I had a Messiah complex, I couldn’t help wondering if Moses had had these kinds of problems when leaving Egypt.

I had teams outside the Farm now, looking for vans and trucks we could use to transport the Greens to Utah, and to siphon what gas they could find. I was talking with Victor about organizing teams of Greens to look for food and weapons when my satellite phone rang. If anyone was calling me, it should have been one of the other Elites, hopefully with good news about . . . oh, I don’t know, finding an RV park or something. Instead, it took me a minute to recognize the number.

I gestured Victor out the door of the Dean’s office as I picked up. “I hope to hell you have good news, Ely, because I could sure use it.”

There was a moment of silence so long, I wondered if maybe the connection had gone dead. Maybe the phone’s antenna had broken.

Then a quiet voice said, “This isn’t Ely.”

“Lily?” My heart rate jumped.

“Yeah. Hi, Carter.”

A thousand questions raced through my head. Where was she? Was she safe? Had they made it to Canada? Instead, I asked the stupid question. “Where’s Ely?”

“He’s, um . . .”

I would have heard the hesitation in her voice even if she hadn’t been stuttering. Then it hit me. That wasn’t just hesitation. She was crying.

“Lily, what’s wrong?”

In the moments of her silence, my mind raced. Lily wasn’t a crier. I’d seen her go through some crazy shit. Crap that would have had grown men sobbing, and she hadn’t broken down. If she was crying now . . .

“Are you hurt? Where are you? If you—”

“I’m okay,” she broke in, her voice trembling. “I’m not . . . Jesus, I’m sorry. I thought I could do this without crying.”

“Do what?” Shit. If she didn’t tell me what was wrong soon, I’d frickin’ leap through the phone and—

“It’s Ely.”

“Is he hurt? Is he—”

“No. He’s fine. I mean, sort of.” I heard her take a shuddering breath. “Carter, he can’t be trusted.”

“What?” I heard her words, but they didn’t register.

“I know he’s your friend and you’ve known him forever, but he’s not on our side and I need you to believe me and—”

“Lily, of course I believe you.” My mind was still reeling. Whatever had happened, it had obviously messed with her head. Because this was Lily. She was always coherent. She could always make a cogent argument. Always. I’d never heard her fumble for words or ramble like this. Ever. That just wasn’t her style.

“Of course I believe you.” But Ely had betrayed her? He couldn’t be trusted? It made no sense. “Back up. Tell me exactly what happened.”

“Okay.” Another rasping, quivering breath. “Things went bad.” There was another pause and I could tell she was trying to figure out what parts of the story she should say aloud. What was important enough to push through and what could be left out. “He tranqed me. He was taking me somewhere. To someone, but he didn’t say who. Only that they wanted me alive.”

I felt a white-hot rush of anger blast over me. Anger hotter than a windstorm in the Texas summer. So strong it burned my skin and blurred my vision.

I had trusted Ely. With my life. With all of Base Camp. With Lily.

He had promised to keep her safe. He’d said he would guard her with his life.

And then he had tranqed my girl—my girl—so that he could deliver her to God only knew who.

“Where are you now? Are you safe? Did you get away from him?”

“I’m . . . yeah, sure. I’m safe.”

“I’m going to kill him.” I hadn’t even meant to say it aloud because I knew Lily would argue. Screw it. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

She made a sound that—over the sketchy connection of the satellite phone—almost sounded like a strangled laugh. “That might not be necessary.”

“Why?”

“Because I kind of kicked his ass and left him out in the middle of nowhere without a car.”

And that, that right there, was just one more reason I loved this girl.

Ely was as tough as they came. But my Lily, she was tougher. She never gave up. No matter how hopeless things seemed, no matter how helpless she might appear, she never just laid down and accepted that. She fought.

Despite everything, I found myself chuckling. “Yeah, you did.”

It sounded like maybe she was chuckling, too. The kind of desperate, frenetic laugh of someone very close to the edge.

“Carter, the thing is, I don’t know who he’s working for. I don’t know if it’s one of the Deans. Or Bob. Or who. I have no idea. But we have to assume the worst.”

“You think he gave away the location of Base Camp?”

“I don’t know. But if he did, then everyone is in danger. You have to get those kids out of there. You have to be ready. You could—”

“Let me worry about Base Camp,” I said. Then it occurred to me that her “Yeah, sure. I’m safe,” hadn’t been particularly reassuring. “Let’s get you home first. I mean, unless you guys are in Canada already. You should be there by now, right?”

“That’s the other thing.” Her voice caught. I could hear the tears in her throat, choking her. “McKenna didn’t—”

I cursed again. “Did Ely—”

“No.” Another long pause. “She went into labor. She bled out. There was nothing—”

I sagged against the side of the desk. It felt like my heart actually stop beating. Like it was being squeezed by all the grief and sorrow. McKenna. Gone.

Since losing Joe, McKenna had seemed fragile and worn, not quite of this world. But everyone had loved her. She was hope. The crazy, insane hope that somehow we were all going to make it.

“The baby?”

“Is fine. She’s here. She’s beautiful. But Carter, I can’t feed her. I can’t take care of her. I can’t—”

“Where are you? Wherever you are, I’m going to come and get you. You hunker down. You stay safe. I’m coming.”

“No. Carter, it’s okay. I have a plan.”

“What? What’s your plan?” And it had better involve staying safe and waiting for me to get there.

“Shh,” she murmured reassuringly. “It’s okay. I know what I’m doing. I’m going to find the nearest Farm and turn myself in. They take care of—”

“No! You stay where you are. I will come for you. I can leave here in five minutes. I can be there in—” Shit. She was most likely in Montana. Even if I took the fastest car, even if I drove through the night, it could be days before I got there. “You just stay low. Stay safe and keep her alive. I will come for you. I’m leaving right now. You just tell me where you are and I’m coming for you.”

“No, Carter. It’s—”

“Just tell me where you are.” I’d be walking out the door already but I was terrified of losing the phone signal.

“This is a good plan.”

“You cannot be serious!”

“I am. Listen, at a Farm, they’ll be able to feed Josie. They can keep her alive. They’ve got to be set up for this kind of thing, because some of the Breeders should be ready to give birth soon, right? So they have to be able to care for a baby. And as long as you know where she is, you could come get her. You could rescue her when she’s older.”

“And what about you? You’re eighteen. And you risked your life to get off of a Farm. You can’t—”

“No, I’ve thought about that. If I turn myself in to a new Farm, they won’t know how old I am. I can lie. And you . . .” I heard her swallowing. “You can come and get me. You saved me once. You can save me again.”

There was something in her voice that I didn’t trust. It took a second, but I figured it out. She suspected that Ely had planned on turning her over to Roberto. Roberto wouldn’t stop looking for her. Which meant she was planning on trading Josie’s safety for her own life. “Just tell me where you are.”

“Carter, I—”

“Where are you? Montana? Idaho? Somewhere in Canada? Where?”

“Canada?” She sounded baffled for a second. “No. I’m not in Canada. We changed our game plan. We headed for Mexico instead of Canada. I’m in Texas.”

And then, it hit me. Like a speeding train. Right in the chest. “You’re where?”

“In Texas. Some tiny town. Sweetwater, I think.”

“You’re in Texas?”

“Yeah.” Her words slowed to a trickle. “It seemed like a good idea. Because of the guns. And the cartels . . . and . . .”

My string of curses cut her off.

“I’m there, too.”

“You’re in Texas?”

“Yes.”

A long moment of silence, and then, “Oh.”

We were both in Texas. And frankly, there was no way in hell that we’d both ended up here by accident. “Tell me exactly why you’re in Texas because of the guns and the cartels?”

“Ely said—”

I cursed again.

She ignored me and kept talking. “That Canada had probably fallen. Their army wasn’t as well armed as ours, so they wouldn’t have been able to fight off the Ticks. He said he’d been all the way down to the wall and he thought the drug cartels had kept the Ticks from going farther south than that.”

I cursed some more. Even though I could see how perfectly logical that argument was.

“Why are you in Texas?” she asked.

“Because of Ely.” It seemed so obvious now, looking back, that he’d been driving us both here. . . . No, wait. Not both of us. Just her.

He’d said it during that first conversation he and I had had about the Farm in San Angelo. “Bring Lily down there. She can convince them to fight.” He hadn’t actually given a damn whether or not I came to Texas. He’d been angling for her all along.

In fact, after she’d agreed to leave Base Camp with him, he’d lost interest in our plan to go to San Angelo.

Why did he want her here?

Not that it mattered.

Because here’s what it came down to: Lily was scared and alone with a baby she couldn’t care for, being pursued by people whose motives we could only guess at. I didn’t need to know any more than that.

“Okay,” I said again. “I’m coming for you. Don’t turn yourself in. Do you promise me?”

“Carter, I—”

“Just give me until sunrise. If I can’t find you by sunrise, then . . .” Well, then I still wasn’t going to be frickin’ okay with her turning herself in, that was for damn sure. “Well we’ll worry about that after.”

“After what?”

“Your goal is just to stay alive and keep that baby alive. Got it?”

“Okay,” she said finally. “Where are you in Texas?”

“San Angelo. And Dawn is here. You remember Dawn, right?”

“Dawn Armadale?”

“Yeah. She talked her way into the car. She’s a nurse, right? So she’ll know what to do for Josie. And surely you trust her more than whatever nurse a Farm would have.”

I could practically hear her mulling it over on the other end of the phone. “Yeah. I guess.”

“I’ll be there around midnight. Just stay safe. Stay alive. And keep your phone on.”

“Okay.” Her voice sounded steadier than it had even just a few moments ago. She was pulling it together. I’d never had any doubt she would.

I got off the phone with her quickly after that, which was one of the hardest things I’d ever done, because I wanted to keep her on the line. I wanted that reassurance that she was following my orders and that she was staying safe. Because it felt like the only way to actually keep her alive was to maintain that connection to her. But I hung up anyway because a fully charged phone was too precious to waste.

As soon as I hung up, my mind started racing through the list of things I’d need to get out of here fast. I grabbed my bag of gear and headed for the Dean’s personal stash of food. Zeke walked in as I was zipping up the bag.

He stood in the doorway, blocking my way out. “What’s up?” he asked, frowning. “You look like you’re packing.”

“I am. I’m heading out.”

“You’re bailing?”

“No, I’m just—”

“Jesus! After all your big talk about how we need to save these people, you’re bailing.”

“I’m not bailing.” Except I kind of was. “Look, Lily is in trouble. I’m going to get her.”

“Lily, your girlfriend?” His sneer said it all.

“Yeah. She’s in trouble. Serious trouble.” I stepped closer to him, waiting for him to get out of the way.

Instead, he gave my shoulder a shove. “There are a thousand kids here at this Farm who are in serious trouble. You’re going to throw them to the Ticks to save your girlfriend?”

I didn’t even have to think about it.

Yes. Yes, I was.

I knew it made me a bastard and a total ass. Hell, maybe it made me a sociopath.

I knew—I knew—that the needs of the many should outweigh the needs of the few. And ninety-nine percent of the time they would. But not today. Not now. Not when Lily was in trouble. Because she meant more to me than all those other kids combined. She was all that mattered.

“Yes,” I said slowly, “I am. And unless you want to throw down right now, you can’t stop me.”

The anger in Zeke’s gaze wavered and bled into fear. “You can’t leave us.”

I gripped the back of his neck and gave it an encouraging squeeze. “The fences will hold at least through tonight. Tomorrow, you take whatever blood donations are fresh and you have someone dump them far away. It’ll keep the Ticks away for at least tomorrow night. It won’t matter if the fences aren’t on if the Ticks aren’t nearby to test them. There are twenty-five guys here who know as much about fighting Ticks as I do. Dawn is level-headed. Besides, I’ll be back in two days. You’ll be fine.”

By the time I was done talking, Zeke even looked like he believed me.

He nodded and blew out a breath of resolve. “We’ll be okay.”

Before I could give him any more instructions or reassurances, someone knocked on the door frame behind him. He stepped aside. Victor was out in the hall.

“Hey, boss,” he said. “We found Preacher Joe. Someone’s bringing him up right now.”

Standing in the doorway, I had a clear shot of the elevator. My heart started pounding as the doors slid open. There was Joe. Preacher Joe really was Stoner Joe. When he saw me, a big-ass grin split his face.

If what I’d heard was right, then Joe was the kind of guy who prayed. And he’d probably been praying for something exactly like this. Praying that someone would come who could help the Greens here at this Farm. Praying that he’d find some connection to the world outside this place, some connection to the girl he loved.

Right now, I was the answer to his prayers.

And I had to tell him that McKenna was dead.