The Host (The Host #1)(111)
Doc reacted immediately to the sound of trouble. He jogged quickly out to meet Ian. I wished I could see what was wrong, too, but I didn’t want to upset Walter by trying to free my hand again. I listened hard instead.
“Brandt?” I heard Doc say in surprise.
“Where is it? Where is it?” the other man demanded breathlessly. The running footsteps only paused for a second, then started up again, not quite as fast.
“What are you talking about?” Doc asked, calling back this way.
“The parasite!” Brandt hissed impatiently, anxiously, as he burst through the arched entry.
Brandt was not a big man like Kyle or Ian; he was probably only a few inches taller than me, but he was thick and solid as a rhinoceros. His eyes swept the room; his piercing gaze focused on my face for half a second, then took in Walter’s oblivious form, and then raced around the room only to end up on me again.
Doc caught up with Brandt then, his long fingers gripping Brandt’s shoulder just as the broader man took the first step in my direction.
“What are you doing?” Doc asked, his voice the closest to a growl I’d ever heard it.
Before Brandt answered, the odd sound returned, going from soft to screaming loud to soft again with a suddenness that had us all frozen. The beats thudded right on top of one another, shaking the air when they were at their loudest.
“Is that—is that a helicopter?” Doc asked, whispering.
“Yes,” Brandt whispered back. “It’s the Seeker—the one from before, the one who was looking for it.” He jerked his chin at me.
My throat was suddenly too small—the breaths moving through it were thin and shallow, not enough. I felt dizzy.
No. Not now. Please.
What is her problem? Mel snarled in my head. Why can’t she leave us alone?
We can’t let her hurt them!
But how do we stop her?
I don’t know. This is all my fault!
Mine, too, Wanda. Ours.
“Are you sure?” Doc asked.
“Kyle got a clear view through the binoculars while it was hovering. Same one he saw before.”
“Is it looking here?” Doc’s voice was suddenly horrified. He half spun, eyes flashing toward the exit. “Where’s Sharon?”
Brandt shook his head. “It’s just running sweeps. Starts at Picacho, then fans out in spokes. Doesn’t look like it’s focusing on anything close. Circled around a few times where we dumped the car.”
“Sharon?” Doc asked again.
“She’s with the kids and Lucina. They’re fine. The boys are getting things packed in case we have to roll tonight, but Jeb says it’s not likely.”
Doc exhaled, then paced over to his desk. He slouched against it, looking as if he’d just run a long race. “So it’s nothing new, really,” he murmured.
“Naw. Just have to lay low for a few days,” Brandt reassured him. His eyes were flickering around the room again, settling on me every other second. “Do you have any rope handy?” he asked. He pulled up the edge of the sheet on an empty cot, examining it.
“Rope?” Doc echoed blankly.
“For the parasite. Kyle sent me out here to secure it.”
My muscles contracted involuntarily; my hand gripped Walter’s fingers too tightly, and he whimpered. I tried to force it to relax while I kept my eyes on Brandt’s hard face. He was waiting for Doc, expectant.
“You’re here to secure Wanda?” Doc said, his voice hard again. “And what makes you think that’s necessary?”
“Come on, Doc. Don’t be stupid. You’ve got some big vents in here, and a lot of reflective metal.” Brandt gestured to a file cabinet against the far wall. “You let your attention wander for half a minute, and it’ll be flashing signals to that Seeker.”
I sucked in a shocked breath; it was loud in the still room.
“See?” Brandt said. “Guessed its plan in one.”
I wanted to bury myself under a boulder to hide from the bulging, relentless eyes of my Seeker, yet he imagined I wanted to guide her in. Bring her here to kill Jamie, Jared, Jeb, Ian… I felt like gagging.
“You can go, Brandt,” Doc said in an icy tone. “I will keep an eye on Wanda.”
Brandt raised one eyebrow. “What happened to you guys? To you and Ian and Trudy and the rest? It’s like you’re all hypnotized. If your eyes weren’t right, I’d have to wonder…”
“Go ahead and wonder all you want, Brandt. But get out while you’re doing it.”
Brandt shook his head. “I’ve got a job to do.”
Doc walked toward Brandt, stopping when he was between Brandt and me. He folded his arms across his chest.
“You’re not going to touch her.”
The throbbing helicopter blades sounded in the distance. We were all very still, not breathing, until they faded.
Brandt shook his head when it was quiet again. He didn’t speak; he just went to the desk and picked up Doc’s chair. He carried it to the wall by the file cabinet, slammed it to the ground, and then sat down hard, making the metal legs squeal against the stone. He leaned forward, his hands on his knees, and stared at me. A vulture waiting for a dying hare to stop moving.
Doc’s jaw tightened, making a little popping noise.