Page 131 of Monsters within Men
“Go on.”
“Many hours ago, Zeke was bitten by a type. Badly. And now… well he’s still here. Displaying no signs of the RONS virus.”
The woman took a sharp intake of breath.
“We also have photos of pages and pages of research notes. Well, either that or the mad ramblings of a lunatic. You’ll be the judge of that.”
“How soon can you get him here?”
Zeke met Noah’s gaze. He nodded, slowly.
“As soon as we can. We’ll be sailing across in a yacht from England.”
Frankie made a small sound of confusion as she looked between them.
“Stay in contact,” Gurli said. “And be safe. We might finally be on the precipice.”
Zeke’s mind raced.
Of a cure? Of salvation? Of the start of the end?
Noah reached through the bars to interlace their fingers. “We’ll be back in ten, Zeke, with the others. It’s time for a family meeting.”
After what was decidedlynotten minutes, Squad E—or what remained of it—minus Savannah, piled into the back of the van. Zeke huddled in the corner as they filed in, avoiding every prying eye. He shouldn’t be this close to any of them, not when he could still turn at any moment. But their relieved greetings—from everyone, even Habib—made him unfurl somewhat.
“Right,” said Noah, once all eyes were on him. “First, from this moment on, we’re not soldiers of the Eighth East Regiment. We’re outlaws on the run. So, I’m not your LT anymore.”
A murmur of dissent rippled through the squad, quietening as soon as Noah raised his hand.
“Our first order of business, however, has to be removing our tracking chips.”
Habib removed his penknife from his belt and held a lighter to it, beginning the process of sterilizing it.
“That’s no substitute for alcohol,” Zeke said, earning him a pointed glare from Habib. Zeke hoped Habib wouldn’t be the one cutting the incisions.
Meredith rummaged through her daysack, producing a small bottle. “I’ll do it. Vitt can do me though.”
“Me?” squeaked Vitt, and Aoife laughed at her.
“You can watch me first. Who wants to be my first victim?”
Nobody seemed ecstatic at the prospect of going first. Eventually Frankie shuffled over on her knees, removing the top half of her combat suit and pulling up her sleeve. Zeke grimaced at the dirty floor and lack of sanitary conditions. They’d likely all end up amputees after this.
“Hold her still,” Noah ordered, and Vitt and Aoife jumped up to help. After cleaning the incision site with an alcohol infused cotton pad, Meredith held the small knife near Frankie’s skin. She was facing the cage, so Zeke saw her screw her face up in anticipation, her eyes tightly closed.
“I can feel it in there, Ithink,” said Meredith, instilling confidence in nobody.
Zeke turned away as Meredith lowered the knife, already feeling squeamish from the mere anticipation of blood.
Frankie grunted in pain.
“Found it. Five more seconds while I pull it out. It’s pretty buried in there.”
Familiar waves of nausea swept over him.
“Done!”
Curiosity winning over his haemophobia, Zeke turned back to see Meredith wiping the tracker with the used cotton pad before holding it up between her thumb and forefinger. It looked like a large grain of rice made of dark glass.
