Mercury Striking (The Scorpius Syndrome #1)(54)

She blinked. “Me too.”

A rustle sounded by the doorway. Ernie Baysted, sixty-year-old retired marine, hitched his impressive bulk into the room. “I’ve got something. On the ham. A message being sent all around.”

Lynne’s breath audibly caught.

Jax stood and reached for her hand with his good one. For months, Ernie had manned the ham radio, trying to send messages, trying to receive anything. Could there finally be news? Maybe some sort of consolidated effort? He launched into a jog behind Ernie, trying not to run over the guy. Lynne moved at his side, albeit more slowly, trying to tug away.

He didn’t know what her problem was, but he needed to keep her close.

She paled and fought him, and he turned on her. “What are you doing?”

Her lips opened and then closed. Thoughts, so many of them, scattered across her face along with fear. “I, ah, need to go to the bathroom.” She eyed the outside door.

Awareness tickled down his spine. “No, you don’t. Why are you afraid?”

She lifted her chin. “I’m not.”

Definitely a lie, but he didn’t have time to suss it out. “Good. Get a move on.” Keeping a firm grip, he launched back into motion.

They hurried into the small room Ernie had set up, which used to be an office on the first floor. He slid down and turned dials. “The voice said a message would be forthcoming in a minute. It was a man.” Ernie’s faded blue eyes lit up. “A person. A real person.”

Jax pulled Lynne in front of him. “Stay still,” he ordered.

She shook her head. “I have a headache and should—”

What the hell was wrong with her? Jax wrapped his good arm around her waist and pulled her back into his body, both of them facing Ernie. “Just hold on a minute. I’ll take you back after the message.” Jesus. She was stiff as could be.

A loud squeak echoed, and Ernie adjusted a knob. A male voice became audible:

“Hello. To anybody hearing this message, hello. This is Commander Greg Lake of the U.S. Elite Force and the current vice president of the United States. We are the force created specifically by the president of the United States, and we are strong and in control—the Brigade and other military arms now answer to us. If anybody hears this message, please contact us. We have this message on a loop, but we are monitoring responses, and we will respond as soon as possible. We have food and medical supplies as well as protection from the Rippers.”

Jax breathed out. Thank God. There was organized resistance out there.

Lynne trembled, and he drew her nearer. Was she so relieved she was shaking?

The message continued:

“The president has authorized us as a military unit under martial law, and we are here to help. Contact us with the numbers of your survivors as well as location, and we’ll send troops as soon as possible. The president is also issuing a warning to anybody coming in contact with Lynne Harmony, the woman the world knows as Blue Heart. She is a carrier of a more dangerous strain of the infection, and she is a Ripper with a deadly plan. If anybody has seen Lynne Harmony, contact us immediately.”

Jax froze.

Ernie slowly turned around, his eyeglasses askew.

What the hell? Jax grabbed Lynne’s arms and yanked her around. “Anything you want to tell me?”

She’d gone so pale her lips matched her blue heart. “Remember that promise you made to me?”

He slowly lifted his chin, keeping her gaze. “Yeah. You finally going to tell me who you want dead?”

She swallowed, her green gaze meeting his evenly. “Yes. You promised to kill the president of the United States for me.” Her shoulders went back. “Why don’t you get on that now?”





Chapter Eighteen





There’s no fiercer creature on earth than a woman protecting her own.

—Dr. Franklin Xavier Harmony




As soon as they were inside their apartment again, Lynne slowly backed away from Jax and fumbled to twist on the lantern. Earlier, she’d tidied up the best she could, but the orange counter still hung drunkenly from the wall, so she had to be gentle with the lantern in the center. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Don’t thank me.” He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms. “I told Ernie to hold off on doing anything until I returned. I plan to respond to the military tomorrow morning.”

Then she had about six hours to get the hell out of there. “Okay.”

He studied her. No expression, no hint at the passion she knew lay within him. None of the anger, either. A chill swept down her spine. Jax was scarier in full control than in a fierce temper. “Care to explain?” he asked. His tone hinted she would explain, one way or the other.

Exhaustion pummeled down on her with a strong dose of futility. She crossed to drop onto the bed. “Bret Atherton is a Ripper.”

Jax coughed. His brow wrinkled, and his chin lowered. “You’re telling me the president of the United States is a serial killer?”

Lynne lifted a shoulder. “You know he started out as Speaker of the House, right?”

“Yes, but then the president died of the fever, and the vice president died of a heart attack. The Speaker was third in line.”

How fucked up was that, anyway? “Nobody voted for the guy.” She clasped her hands together in her lap. “And the vice president didn’t die of a heart attack. Bret Atherton killed him.”