Just to be sure, Gwen ran a knuckle over her cheek to confirm its dryness. Hugh scowled at her, then turned back to Max as the vampire took control of the gathering.
“I know everything that happened here.” Max swept a dramatic arm, indicating the breach site. “After I explain, you’re welcome to ask any questions you may still have.”
He proceeded to share a highly edited, extremely gripping account of the previous few days, in which a band of plucky, brave Zone residents—their exact identities unspecified—gathered to battle and defeat the newly freed zombies before the Zone’s entry gate began functioning once more and loosed apocalyptic destruction on the hapless outside world.
True enough, as far as it went.
Beech and Goodling hung on every word, rapt, while Hugh glanced discreetly between his own leather jacket and Max’s leather hoodie, his brow beetled.
Max wrapped up the triumphant tale, smug satisfaction oozing from every perfect pore. “Once we had the remaining zombies trapped, we killed them all. I can’t swear that there aren’t any strays still left alive, but if so, we haven’t spotted any.” He hitched a thumb toward the site of the previous night’s battle. “I can show you the creatures’ remains if your troops haven’t already discovered the trench.”
For all her evident appreciation of Max’s performance, Beech remained skeptical. “If what you’re telling us is true, where are your compatriots in battle?”
“Most had homes and families to return to, but you’re lookingat three of them.” Max indicated the trolls and Gwen. “We managed to get their worst injuries addressed, although Gwen still bears a few cuts and bruises. Little oracle, why don’t you show them?”
Ah. He’d noticed her half-healed wounds and decided to take advantage of them.
Obediently, she unwound herself from all her blankets and rolled up her sleeves and leggings to display the scabbed areas on her elbows and knees. Beech and Goodling approached the quilt to inspect her unimpressive battle wounds, coming far too close for her comfort.
She didn’t trust them. Both councilors radiated immense power, and she didn’t know whether they were inclined to use that power for good. Sure, Goodling had been nice to his protégé, but he and Beech had both chosen to treat her like an unimportant nonentity, so…
Yeah. She didn’t want either of them near her.
“Gwen is cold.” Hugh’s firm tone drew everyone’s attention. “If you need further evidence of her injuries, we can take photos of them once she’s in a warmer location.”
Beech could have overruled her younger colleague, but she didn’t. Both councilors immediately backed off.
Gwen shot Hugh a grateful smile and covered up again.
“By the time I arrived this morning, the battle had already been won.” Hugh took several large steps away from her quilt, and the others followed automatically. “But everyone I’ve encountered and everything I’ve seen has confirmed Boucher’s story.”
Goodling tipped his head, his handsome face creased in thought. “Do you have any theories as to what—or who—caused the breach?”
“Yes, we do have a theory.” Luckily, Max swooped in to answer before Hugh could muster another unpersuasive lie. “As best we can tell, the zombies must have somehow evolved in secret and used the compound’s abandoned tools to break out on their own.”
There should be no way to prove otherwise. Or so Gwen fervently hoped.
Sadly, that hope died with Tanielle Beech’s next words.
“And yet,” she said, drawing out each word, “we have footage from the compound that implicates an outside group.”
“Oh?” Hugh tipped his head, as if abstractly interested. As if what she said next couldn’t doom their apocalypse-aversion efforts. “Who?”
“Demons,” Beech declared. “Demons freed the zombies.”
8
Councilor Goodling had sucked in a harsh, shocked breath at Beech’s revelation, while Max and Hugh regarded the SERC chair with identical stony expressions.
Gwen bit her lip and hunched over her bent knees, overcome by despair. She and her friends had no way to counteract video evidence, and—oh, gods and goddesses—how were they going to avert an interspecies warnow?
Hugh cast a quick glance her way and caught her eye.It’s okay, he mouthed, and she tried her best to believe him.
“Unfortunately, we didn’t discover the footage until this morning.” Beech’s voice was flat. “The employee in charge of monitoring the cameras took an extended winter holiday and didn’t designate a replacement monitor. As of this morning, he’s—”
From the cold rage in the SERC chair’s unearthly sea-greeneyes and the way her long fingers curled into pale fists, Gwen half expected her to saydead by my own hands.
She wouldn’t want Tanielle Beech for an enemy. Not if she could possibly help it.
