Afraid

“I could have. But I didn’t.”

Duncan thought it over.

“I know bad people do bad things,” Duncan said. “But maybe sometimes good people do bad things, too.”

Wiley appraised the child.

“I go to bed every night hoping you’re right, Duncan.”

“DUNCAN!”

Mom yelled so loud that Mathison jumped from his shoulder and went running off. She stormed over to him, pointing her finger.

“Put down that gun!”

Duncan set it down on the table. “Mom, I was just—”

“You!” Mom’s finger went from him to Wiley. “What kind of man gives a ten-year-old boy a gun?”

Wiley cleared his throat. “Some people are going to break in here, Fran, and try to murder us. Duncan has a right to defend himself same as me and you.”

Mom grabbed Duncan’s hand, but she kept her eyes on Wiley.

“You’re insane! Stay the hell away from my son! Do you get it? We don’t need you in our lives! We never did!”

“Fran …”

Mom pulled Duncan away from the guns and was leading him out of the room when they both heard a beeping sound. Mom stopped, looking around for the source. Wiley hurried past them both.

“That’s the alarm,” he said, strapping on his shotgun holster. “They’ve found the entrance.”

Josh broke another capsule under his nose—his fourth—and swung the Bronco onto Deer Tick Road. The Charge no longer gave him a head rush—just a headache. He was also short of breath and queasy, symptoms of both cyanide poisoning and amyl nitrite overdose. Josh didn’t know if that meant he needed more Charge or less.

I’ve got to get to a hospital, Josh thought. He even had a plan on how to get through the roadblock. But first he had to find Fran and Duncan.

He used the back of his hand to wipe sweat off of his forehead, pushing the speedometer to thirty-five. The Bronco ate up the dirt road, easily taking the bumps and turns. When he passed the final bend he saw Mrs. Teller’s Roadmaster in the distance, the headlights still on. And next to it, Olen’s Honey Wagon.

Josh mashed the brake, causing Woof to lose his balance on the front seat and slip onto the floor.

“Sorry, buddy. We’re going to find Duncan. Do you want to find Duncan?”

Woof barked.

“Good boy. We’re going to find Duncan. Yes, we are.”

Josh jammed the Bronco into park and hunted around the back seat. Adam kept a load of crap back there, and Josh swore he saw a clothesline earlier. He found it and tied an end around Woof’s neck. Then he grabbed his Maglite and his pillowcase of supplies and climbed out of the truck. The world seemed a little wobbly, and he felt more than a little woozy, so he leaned against the fender and rested for a minute.

Woof barked again—it was too high for him to jump. Josh helped him to the ground.

“Where’s Duncan, Woof? Find Duncan. Go, boy!”

Woof tugged on the makeshift leash, and Josh jogged behind him. Part of Josh—the tiny part that still remained rational through all of the fumes he’d inhaled—knew that wandering around with a flashlight and a barking dog would attract the Red-ops. But he wasn’t scared. In fact, he felt in control and powerful. Invincible, even.

The dog sniffed everything: trees, bushes, leaves, sticks, rocks, and the open air. Josh began to wonder if Woof was just out for a good time, but then he strained against the rope and started barking like crazy.

“Duncan?” Josh called, sweeping with the flashlight.

The beam landed on a woman. A woman wearing hiking books and a blue-jean miniskirt. She was in her thirties, attractive. Her face looked like she might have been crying recently.

“Oh, my God!” she shrieked. “You’ve got to help me!”

Woof snarled at the new arrival, and Josh reined him in so he didn’t bite her.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked.

“My friends and I were camping and we got attacked by these guys—oh, my God, it was awful! Do you have a phone or a car?”

She moved closer. Josh noticed she had long blond hair tied back in a ponytail and the sleeveless top she wore was dotted with blood. She was seriously built. Her calves above the boots bulged with muscle. So did her bare arms. She didn’t appear to have any makeup on, but she wore several pieces of jewelry, including a thick gold Omega necklace and matching anklet. On her finger was a large diamond engagement ring.

“Can you help me?” she repeated. “Please?”

Josh shook his head—not to say no, but to clear it. Woof kept barking. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t pin down what. He was on edge. No, not on edge. Excited. He felt a tremendous urge, a need, to do something. But he wasn’t sure what.

He blinked, his mouth went dry, and suddenly he knew what he needed to do.

You have to kill her.

The thought didn’t shock Josh like he felt it should have. Rather, it appealed to him.

That’s the drugs talking. It’s the Charge.

No, it’s not the Charge. She’s Red-ops.

“Where’s your car?” she pleaded. “What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk?”

How could she be Red-ops? She’s just some scared girl. It’s the Charge. The chemicals are messing with your mind.

Then what is she doing out here, all by herself? She’s one of them. You have to kill her.

Josh dropped the rope and Woof charged at her. She kicked the dog in the side and he yelped and rolled into the bushes.

“Your dog just attacked me!”

She was four steps away.

You can’t kill her.

Yes, you can. This woman is the enemy. Kill her. Bash her head open.

Three steps away now.

She’s just a camper. She needs your help. The drugs are making you aggressive, making you crazy.

It’s not the drugs. She’s one of them. You need to kill her before she kills you.

“Please. You have to protect me.”

Josh held his hands out in front of him.

“You … you shouldn’t come any closer.” But even as the words left his lips, he wanted her closer. Much closer.

“I need your help, mister. Please.”

Kill her kill her KILL HER!

Two steps away.

“Stay back. Stay away from me.”

The Charge is warping you. Making you violent. But you’re in control. You don’t have to give in to every little urge. Fight it. Do the right thing.

“I was attacked.” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you care?”

One step away.

“Yes, I care. Look how much I care.”

Josh used the Maglite like a club, smashing it across her face, trying to bust her skull open. The woman almost kept her balance but tripped on something in the weeds and kissed the ground.

SNAP!