The q, p.3
The Q, page 3
Maisie waited while Elise clicked her keyboard. Over the speakers, “It’s Raining Men” played. Hadley ran back into the room.
Maisie’s phone rang, and she looked down at the screen. Declan. She tapped to answer.
“Hey. I’m already in the comms tower. Elise is pulling him up on the cameras.”
“Where is he?” Declan asked. He was panting, like he was running.
“Last saw him near the neutral zone.”
“I’m headed that way now. I need an exact location.”
“We’re getting it.” Maisie gave Elise a pleading look. The image on the screens changed. The man hit the ground hard, the parachute covering his body as he rolled.
“Got him!” Maisie said. “Just landed outside Neutral Zone Station One.”
“That’s going to leave a mark,” Hadley said with a wince.
“He’s down?”
“Yeah, he’s down,” Maisie said. “Might be hurt. Rough landing.”
“Okay. Stay there and keep an eye on the cameras. We’re going after him.”
The line went dead, and she slipped her phone back into her pocket.
“Has anyone ever tried to get into the Q before?” Maisie asked, her eyes on the motionless orange blob on the screen.
Hadley leaned closer to the screen. “Yeah, those people who tried to tear down the walls like fifteen years ago.”
“Oh yeah. That didn’t go so well for them,” Maisie said. “You think he’s dead? Oh, there he goes!”
The orange blob moved. A hand emerged from beneath the parachute, and then the top of a head. He paused for several seconds before crawling out from underneath the fabric and standing.
He had dark hair, and looked to be fairly young, though it was hard to tell from this distance.
“Elise, can you zoom in?” Maisie asked.
“Yeah.”
The image shifted. The guy’s face was clear on the screen now. He was young, maybe late teens or early twenties. He wore a rumpled button-down shirt, his tie loose around his neck.
“Holy shit,” Hadley said. “That’s Lennon fucking Pierce.”
“Who is Lennon fucking Pierce?” Elise asked.
“Lennon Pierce! The guy—the kidnapped guy!”
“The senator’s son?” Maisie asked.
Elise’s eyebrows shot up. “The one who’s running for president?”
“Yes!” Hadley exclaimed. “They sent me a picture with the news report. I remember that face. And that hair.”
He did have wild hair. It was thick and sticking up in every direction.
“Hold on,” Hadley said, and ran out of the room.
“That senator is the one who’s been talking big about tearing down the Q walls, right?” Elise said.
“Yeah.”
Hadley ran back into the room and handed Maisie a piece of paper.
“See? That’s totally him.”
It was, indeed, totally him. This version of Lennon Pierce was smiling, all straight teeth and glowing skin. His wavy hair was impressively coiffed, with one tendril lazily grazing his eyebrow. She wondered if they’d had to take the picture several times to make him look so effortlessly douchey.
She passed the picture to Elise and returned her attention to the screen. Lennon was still just standing there. A frozen dumbass.
“Do you think they dropped him in here against his will?” Hadley asked.
“Yes,” Maisie said. “Look at him. He has nothing on him.” She turned to Hadley. “Is Lopez reachable?”
“Oh. Right.” Hadley grabbed the phone and dialed. “Hey. Where’s Uncle Franco right now?” She listened. “I know you said not to—” She cut herself off, taking a deep breath. “It’s an emergency. Tell Uncle Franco that we know who just dropped out of the sky and he needs to call the comms tower right now.” She hung up.
Maisie dialed Declan.
On the screen, Lennon scrambled backward, his hands in the air. He whirled around. Elise zoomed out. Four men ran toward Lennon. Behind him, Maisie could see the black masks on the faces of the men on the motorcycles.
“Shit,” she said.
“Maisie,” Declan snapped over the phone, not for the first time. “What is it?”
“It’s Lennon Pierce,” she said hurriedly. On the screen, Lennon took off running. “The son of the US presidential candidate. And the border patrol just spotted him.”
Hadley did a double-take at the screen, alarm on her face.
There was a long pause. “Where is he now?”
“He’s running. He—” She stopped talking as the four men swarmed Lennon, tackling him to the ground. “They’ve got him.”
Her phone beeped, and she looked to see who was calling. Franco Lopez.
“Declan, it’s Lopez on the other line.”
“Go.”
She switched to the other call. “Lopez? I’m here.”
“Get down to my lab. As fast as you can.” He hung up.
She raced toward the door, glancing back at Hadley. “Can I take your scooter?”
“Yes, take it!”
“Thank you!”
* * *
—
Hadley’s scooter took Maisie through the streets of the Q so quickly that people had to jump out of the way when they saw her coming. She used the annoying horn that she’d often teased Hadley about.
She practically fell off the scooter when she arrived at the lab and lurched for the door.
A direct request from Lopez was unusual. She could only remember it happening once or twice before. Everything went through Declan now, and her dad before that.
Paul, one of Lopez’s bodyguards, stood just inside the building, and he nodded at her and pointed down the hallway. She ran for the door. It opened automatically.
Lopez was at his desk in the lab, his brow furrowed as he wrote something in a notebook. He looked up at her briefly.
“One second, Maisie.”
“Sure.” She tried to breathe quietly.
He finished writing and stood. He was a heavyset man with dark hair, now streaked with gray. He wore square-framed glasses, and he rubbed his hand over the stubble on his chin. His smile was friendly, and she was surprised to see him give her one.
She shouldn’t have been. Lopez was always calm. Eerily so. It was probably why he’d gotten along so well with her father. The two had been lifelong friends until her dad’s death a year ago. Isaac Rojas would punch a guy in the face for looking at him wrong. Franco Lopez would jump in and immediately smooth things over.
“I would like some options for when I speak to the CDC and the FBI about our newest arrival,” he said.
“The F-B-I?” she repeated, searching her brain for the words that went with the familiar letters.
“The Federal Bureau of Investigation,” he said patiently. “Cops.”
“Right.”
“I need for you to give Mr. Pierce this in the next hour.” He passed her a small black pouch. She opened it to see a plastic needle loaded with a clear liquid. “It will provide immunity from the virus for a short period of time.”
She looked down at the needle. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. That’s what you’ve been helping me with.”
“How short a period of time?”
“In our tests we got up to four days,” he said. “I may be able to convince the CDC to let us do a little experiment. Get him out of here before those four days are up.”
“You think they would actually let someone leave the Q?”
“I think his father will be highly motivated to get him out, and that could work to our advantage.”
“How would he even do that? Where would he exit?”
“We’ll figure it out. I’ll probably ask for permission to scale one of the walls. But for today, I need you to get him that now, or none of this matters.” He touched her upper arm. “Inject him there. Whether he wants it or not. It is not optional.”
She nodded.
“Declan and his team are closing in on the area. They’ll cover you while you grab Pierce. I’m trusting you with this because I know I can count on you not to kill him.”
“Of course.”
“And I need someone who Pierce will at least let close to him. He’ll be less likely to try to punch you.”
She bit back a laugh. “Sure. Let’s hope, anyway.”
“After you’ve injected him, you and Declan’s team will bring him back here immediately.”
“Got it.”
“Good. Go.”
* * *
—
Lopez pulled a bus out of service for her, and it whipped down the street at a pace that made Maisie’s teeth rattle in her head. The driver laid on the horn every twenty seconds, maybe to alert people to get out of the road. Maybe just to annoy her.
Hadley’s voice came crackling out of the speaker on the roof.
“Bus four is out of service, folks, and you’re going to want to steer clear of the roads until further notice. And please keep an eye out for any other men falling from the sky.”
The bus screeched to a stop and Maisie darted out.
Declan stood on the side of the road. He had a man by the neck, his fingers digging into his skin. Blood poured out of the man’s nose, one of his eyes already swollen.
Declan looked up at Maisie. He released his grip, and the man crumpled to the ground with a moan.
“Pierce is in there,” he said, pointing to the shack down the road. He took a step back, gesturing to the field that stretched out beyond it. Three motorcycles and several men on foot raced toward the shack.
“I’m going to go help my boys ward them off,” he said, and turned to go.
She took off running. She pumped her arms as fast as she could, her shoes crunching against gravel as she raced toward the shack. The pouch Lopez had given her was tucked in her pocket, the needle heavy against her thigh.
She skidded to a stop at the door and threw it open.
A man stood on the other side, a machete aimed at her face.
She ducked just in time. The blade sailed over her head.
She popped up, launching her foot into the man’s chest. He wheezed and dropped his weapon as he stumbled back. She caught a glimpse of his face as he fell to the ground.
Grady Ruben. A constant pain in her ass.
She looked quickly around the shack. Lennon Pierce was tied to a beam. He pulled desperately at the zip tie binding his hands around it, to no avail. A red handkerchief was tied around his mouth.
His clothes were dusty and wrinkled, his ridiculous hair falling in his eyes. He squinted at her through it and froze. He had a bruise forming on one cheek and blood drying under his nose.
Grady struggled to his feet, reaching for his machete. She kicked it away, jumping forward and grabbing him by the collar. She pulled her left hand back and made a fist.
“Dammit, Grady, what did I say last time?”
He looked at her fist nervously. “He’s a runner from the north! Runners from the north are fair game!”
“What did I say?” she repeated, louder.
He licked his lips. “That if you heard about us capturing and eating any more people, you’d cut off my balls.”
Lennon made a horrified noise from behind his gag.
She threw a punch straight into Grady’s face. He hit the ground hard, his nose and mouth bloody, and went still. Pain radiated through her hand, and she resisted the urge to wince.
She turned back to Lennon. He looked from her to the man on the ground.
She pulled the needle from the pouch. His eyes widened. He shook his head.
“Calm down.” She held both her hands up, holding the needle in between two fingers. “I’m here to help you, okay?”
Outside, someone fired a gun. Lennon jumped, turning his attention to the one small, dirty window. It didn’t show much.
He turned back to Maisie, gaze bouncing from her to Grady, who was still motionless on the floor.
She took a tentative step forward. Calm and friendly was probably the way to go here. He looked like a scared dog.
“Don’t worry.” She tilted her head down toward Grady. “I would never actually touch his balls. For any reason.”
Lennon’s eyebrows drew together in an expression of horrified bewilderment.
“Anyway, welcome to the Q.” She smiled. “We’re not a bunch of cannibals in here, by the way.”
Grady moaned. She kicked him in the ribs.
“These guys are just a little…eccentric.”
Lennon looked unconvinced.
She took another step closer, lifting the hand with the needle. “This will provide temporary immunity from the virus. I’m just going to stick it in your arm, and then we’re going to get out of here.”
He violently shook his head back and forth. He tried to talk, but it just came out as muttered nonsense.
She reached for him. He darted away, swinging around to the other side of the beam.
She made a frustrated noise. “Dude, I’m seriously trying to help you here.”
She reached for him again. He swung around to the other side again.
Maisie sprang forward, using her body to smash his into the beam. He made a muffled screaming noise.
“Dumbass. I understand that you’ve had a bad couple of days, but if I don’t stick this needle in your arm and get you to Lopez, we’re both going to be in a shitload of trouble. So hold still.”
She jammed the needle into his arm. He whimpered.
“Calm down, you’re fine. You’re welcome, by the way.” She pushed in the liquid and pulled the needle out.
He was breathing heavily, and he turned his head slightly, looking down at where she’d stuck him.
“I need to untie you so I can get you out of here, but I’m not doing it if you’re going to run. So, listen. I’m Maisie Rojas.”
His eyes went wide, like he recognized the name.
“I’m supposed to get you back to Lopez, who is trying to work out a deal with the CDC to get you out of here.”
He took in a sharp breath.
“There are some guys outside taking care of the rest of these jackasses, and trust me, you do not want to see what they will do to you if you make them chase you down. So, I’m going to untie you, and you’re not going to be a pain in my ass. Agreed?”
He slowly nodded.
“Okay.” She stepped back and pulled out her knife. She walked around the beam and cut Lennon loose.
LENNON
LENNON DROPPED HIS arms as the zip tie fell to the ground and stared at the girl in front of him.
He’d seen a picture of Isaac Rojas once—Dr. Lopez’s right-hand man who had killed a lot of people to secure the southern part of the quarantine zone for the Lopez family. Dark hair, six foot three, broad as shit, scary-looking dude.
His daughter was not that.
She was at least a foot shorter than her dad, with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, a bright pink streak running through it. Pushed-up sleeves revealed tattoos on both her arms. Blood dripped from her knuckles, a result of the truly impressive punch she’d delivered to the man still moaning on the ground.
“Are you going to take that off?”
Right. The gag. He yanked it off, tossed it on the ground, and resisted the urge to spit. That handkerchief tasted like it had been to a lot of other places before it was shoved in his mouth.
“You…What was…?” He had too many questions to settle on just one.
“Come on.” She strode to the door. “You can ask Lopez the questions. I’m just your ride.”
“Fr-Franco Lopez?” he stammered.
“Of course Franco Lopez.” She stood at the doorway impatiently. She started to wrap her fingers around the frame, but quickly lowered her hand, the slightest hint of pain crossing her features. “Would you hurry your ass up?”
He blinked, and the girl stepped forward and grabbed his arm with her uninjured hand, pulling him through the door.
She broke into a run as they stepped outside. It was sunny, and warmer than it had been in Georgia. He squinted and nearly stumbled.
She held on to his arm harder, and Lennon realized he was unsteady on his feet. He was swooning. He was literally the least-manly kidnapping victim ever. People would tell stories about his lack of manliness for generations to come.
They were headed for a bus. It was covered in graffiti—or art? Hard to say.
She practically shoved him inside. He collapsed onto the first seat he saw.
Her face appeared in front of him, eyebrows knitted in concern. “Did they give you anything?”
He shook his head. “You gave me something.”
Now her eyebrows thought he was a dumbass. He searched his memory for the first name she’d given him.
“Mary?”
“Maisie.”
“What?”
“My name is Maisie.”
“Maisie.” His vision began to tunnel. “I feel weird.” His body slumped. He fell onto his side.
Maisie put her hands on her hips, peering down at him. She was becoming a tiny spot in his vision. When she spoke, she sounded far away.
“I think this dude just fainted.”
* * *
—
He was on the bumpy bus, and then someone was dragging him to his feet.
“I didn’t hit him!” Maisie said. He couldn’t see her. It was too bright. “He just fainted out of nowhere. He’s very delicate.”
He tried to mumble that he was not delicate, but no words came out. Besides, there were two men on either side of him, supporting nearly all of his weight, so maybe she had a point.
It suddenly wasn’t so bright, and then he was on a soft surface. A man stared down at him. Olive skin. Dark beard. Glasses.
