Page 60 of Gluttony
She shot him an amused look before hardening her features and glaring at Daisy.
“Thank you,” Tony whispered into her ear. “I know working with her is hard for you.”
“We’re being forced at gunpoint. Not exactly what I call working with her,” she replied sardonically.
He cast a glance over his shoulder to where Daisy stood a few feet away. “My instincts aren’t so great when it comes to her. She’s the one we left behind.”
Studying him closely, Bailey nodded. She was law enforcement. She would know what it was like to leave a soldier behind. It simply wasn’t a thing you did.
They’d been children at the time, but they now had a chance to mend bridges, to bring Daisy back to them.
“Walk next to me,” Tony said to Bailey, voice low.
She came up to his side. “You good?”
He nodded. “You?”
“I’ll never get this smell out, but yep. Let’s do this.”
They joined Daisy. She pointed with her sword, irritated at their delay. “The last time I came with Bosch, we surmised the creature nested in here somewhere. It gets deeper later. It likes water, so if it’s drinking, you’ll sense it. Alert me, and we’ll follow that direction. If I feel its sorrow, I’ll do the same. Between the two of us, we have a good chance at locating it.”
“And then what?” Tony’s gruff voice sounded loud in the small space.
“Then we exterminate it.”
Tony nodded and followed her. “Who’s Bosch?”
A pause. “Wayne Bosch was the botanical geneticist who created the creature.”
“Was?” Bailey asked.
“He’s dead.” Daisy’s raspy voice echoed. “He was absorbed by the plant.”
They walked on. The water got deeper and flowed faster. Any time they came to a new open tunnel, they stopped and put their sin-sensing feelers out. Tony sensed no gluttony; Daisy sensed no despair.
They must have covered miles, because Tony’s stomach began to growl, and Bailey asked more than once to rest. Daisy tried to hide it, but on occasion, her hand went to her throat and she wheezed when the air became particularly polluted and stifling.
“Does it hurt?” Tony asked, alluding to the wound on her neck. “Do you need to stop?”
Daisy coughed. She hooked stray white hairs behind her ear. It was clear to Tony that she was trying very hard to remain composed, to not let him see her weaknesses. Even in the low light, Tony could see the scars on her skin. Catching his attention, Daisy turned to the shadows. “I’ve had worse.”
Awkward silence dropped like a stone.
He didn’t know how to respond, so continued walking. After a few moments of silently trudging through the wet sewage, he was over it, impatient. He had to do something to break the tension. He hummed a snappy repetitive song. It was the first tune that came to mind, and he had no idea what it was, except he’d always sung it to fill the silence. Waiting for another scene check, spending grueling hours in the makeup chair. It made him feel calmer.
Next to him, Bailey’s voice lowered. “What is that? I heard you humming that at the sobriety house.”
“Don’t know. I hum it sometimes when it’s too quiet. Catchy. Gets stuck in your head.”
“It’s the song I used to sing when you were a baby,” Daisy answered, surprising them. “At the lab, we used to have our blood drawn at the same time every day. When that time came close, you would get nervous. You were three years old and terrified of needles. Sometimes they were bigger than my finger. I sang to stop you crying.”
Daisy’s profound words cut off abruptly. She continued walking, sloshing onward doggedly, completely unaware of Tony’s and Bailey’s stunned silence.
She’d shared something. Hope flared in Tony’s chest. Maybe he could keep the conversation going, keep cutting through that icy exterior.
Hurrying to catch up, Tony asked, “Do you hate us for not coming back?”
Dickhead. Go straight to the most uncomfortable question, why don’t you?He mentally slapped himself.
