Page 71 of Viral Justice

She squinted at him. “Are you trying to be funny?”

“No. This village is old. It’s been inhabited for hundreds of years. There’s a place that they’ve used as a hospital and a school for most of that time. It’s built deep into the rock of the hills and the majority of the rooms haven’t been used since the owner of this house was a boy. This place wasn’t always a small village. At one time, it was a large town on a major trade route.”

“Is anyone using this building now?”

“Nope, there was a cave-in about six months ago. The locals are too afraid of more happening.”

“Are they right to be afraid of more?”

“I don’t know. What I do know is that our host knows a way in that goes around the cave-in.”

“Fabulous,” she muttered. “Sounds like the perfect place to hide out.” The militants weren’t going to have to shoot them—they were going to die of their own stupidity. And from rocks. Lots of heavy rocks.

Max moved away toward the hatch.

“Where are you going?”

“To wake the others. We need to see this place before the rest of our family gets here.”

“You go ahead. I’m going to keep watch from here.”

“Good idea.” Max grinned, then disappeared.

The rest of the village was so quiet, she could hear their host talking to Max inside the house. A couple of young voices threaded through the conversation.

Were they going to take the children with them to check out this place that sounded less than safe?

The roof hatch opened again, but this time it wasn’t an adult who came out to lie down next to her. It was Berez.

He stared at her with wide, brown eyes.

Or maybe it was her weapon he was staring at.

The door to the house opened and several figures slipped out. Four adults and one child.

She was going to snarl in Max’s face when she saw him next. Babysitting duty with a high-powered rifle was never a good thing. She’d already killed one man in front of Berez—he didn’t need to see more shit.

She’d probably stunted his growth already.

He inched a little closer, cuddling up to her like a baby chick.

She examined his clothes and realized he must be cold. She opened her poncho and he snuggled right in against her. She was able to partially cover him with her poncho and he sighed, put his head down, then seemed to drop off into sleep.

She stared at the child, uncertainty holding her in stasis. Breathing was difficult, her chest too tight.

Hetrustedher.

She forced her attention back to what she was supposed to be doing, keeping watch on a village balanced on a knife’s edge of horror. Fall one way and it would explode into violence. Fall the other and it would succumb to illness.

Movement along the edge of the permanent buildings had her watching that area closely. It wasn’t just one or two. There were a lot of people moving around. Coming closer.

A few seconds later, she was able to make out a dozen men walking quietly up the hill, around houses, straight for the house she was on.

She didn’t know why she felt certain they were zeroed in on the child’s house, but she’d learned a long time ago not to ignore her instincts.

One or three men she might try to shoot. A dozen, nope.

She shook the child awake, grabbed her pack, then crawled backward, bringing the kid with her. Once they were away from the edge and out of sight—if she couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see her—she got her backpack on, picked the boy up, and moved to the back edge of the house.

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