Chapter 25
My stomach twists into knots.
“Come with me, May,” a woman says politely, her hand outstretched. “I’ll get you medical attention straight away.”
I stand to attention, wondering if she outranks me, since she’s addressing me casually. Searching her uniform, I look for any indication of rank but find nothing.
No badge? No crest of allegiance?
She’s dressed quite plainly for a soldier. Not a single piece of combat gear, and not even the standard military-issued boots.
It’s only then that I notice she and the other Nilsanian soldiers I’ve seen thus far are not wearing military uniforms.
I tense at the realization.
“Thank you for your concern, it’s greatly appreciated. But as I told the Director, I’m not injured,” I say. “I’ll have my physician in Nilsan administer a full physical before I return to work.”
The soldier curtly nods her head. “If you insist, I’ll show you to our vehicles. We will be leaving shortly after the supplies are dropped off.”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek.
Are they off-duty military? I don’t want to go anywhere with them.
A bad feeling gnaws at my chest.
I clear my throat. “If possible, I’d like to remain close to the Director. I worry that my captor will tell him lies, endangering both himself and us. Only I know what transpired during my capture, so please, allow me to listen in.”
In reality, my biggest concern is Lowell unleashing his unbridled fury. I don’t particularly care if Kinsley is torn to shreds, but the resulting war would be disastrous.
“Of course,” the soldier shrugs. “But none of the vehicles are within hearing distance.” She gestures to the side, where far away, the vehicles she mentioned are parked. “Directors’ orders.”
I purse my lips. “That one,” I point to a vehicle with an official crest that is definitely Kinsley’s, “is close enough to hear.”
With a tilted eyebrow, the soldier looks at me out of the corner of her eye. “That is the Director’s personal vehicle,” she deadpans.
“And I’m who the Director is ‘rescuing’. When we depart, he will want me by his side to debrief him on my findings. Wouldn’t you agree?” I ask, struggling to think of a more convincing lie.
Fortunately, the soldier lacks the observation skills to see through my lie, her expression held in a concerned pinch.
“If you say so,” she says, guiding me. She opens the door to the official vehicle, offering to hoist me into the backseat. I take it, noting how weak her grip is for a soldier.
“I’m settled now,” I say, trying to talk over the discernible voices from afar. “Thank you for your help. I’ll put in a good word for you with the Director.”
The soldier perks up, her cheeks alight with pink. “Really? You will? I’ve dreamt of getting promoted to the lab for years. A recommendation will be a huge help!”
I nearly choke on my words. “Lab?”
My heartbeat thunders in my eardrums. My blood turns cold.
She nods, dropping her serious demeanor from before as a look of childlike awe takes its place.
“Yeah! I’m just an analyst right now. A number-cruncher.
Any push forward would be an opportunity, since who you know in the lab is sometimes more important than the work itself…
” she bashfully waves her hands. “Ah, sorry. I don’t mean to talk about myself so much. ”
I wipe my face with my hand, nervous sweat building along my hairline.
Don’t panic.
“It’s alright. I’ll always put in a good word for a… fellow scientist,” I lead.
“Ah, you’re amazing! Thank you! I’ll leave you to rest, then,” she exclaims, her arms swinging back and forth as she walks away with a bounce in her step.
When she’s out of earshot, I exhale a deep, terrified sigh.
She’s an analyst, not a soldier.
Not a soldier.
Feelings of dread burrow into my chest, heavy and tight. My breathing quickly becomes labored as anxiety consumes me, the sound of Kinsley’s and Lowell’s conversation drowned out by the rushing blood in my ears.
Those people are not Nilsanian soldiers. Which means they are non-military. But why would they send scientists—
It hits me.
Nilsan doesn’t know Kinsley’s here.
The thought makes my mouth dry.
While it’s only speculation, any other explanation wouldn’t make sense. Kinsley and his subordinates are rarely allowed to leave Nilsan for any reason, let alone go on a rescue mission. However, even as my ‘rescuer’, Kinsley’s reaction was not what I’d anticipated.
He seemed so eager to make a deal, even though Lowell would have let me go without compensation. It’s out of Kinsley’s character to not only compromise but to concede.
It’s all just… weird.
A shiver runs up my spine, a feeling of unease washing over me.
I shake myself out of the trance, directing my energy towards preparing for the unknown, and what comes after.
Keeping the vehicle’s door open, I scoot back into my seat to garner a better listening position. As I move, my boot knocks against a white box on the backseat floor, the contents rattling like glass.
A slight smile cracks my frown. In a pinch, glass can be broken and used as a knife. It’s better to be prepared than not, if not only to quell my unease.
I lift the lid off the box, the neatly placed bottles clink against one another with any slight movement.
Staring back at me are nine corked boiling flasks, all filled with brown liquid that shimmer with rainbows along the surface. Atop the flasks lay a piece of paper with a formal letterhead, reading:
PROPERTY OF THE DEPARTMENT OF BIOLOGICAL WARFARE
Blood stills in my veins and a chill raises the hair at the back of my neck.
I pick up a bottle, swirling the bubbling liquid with a gentle spin.
The flask and contents look the same as the one used by the bandits at Rime Mountain.
I lift the paper to my face, scanning the multiple lines of text formatted into a data table. As I read, I recognize the names of the ingredients listed in the flasks.
It’s….
I shakily slide the flask back into the box, the liquid bubbling and slopping against the glass.
The ingredients make herbicide, but it also contains heavy metals that are made to dissipate quickly within the bloodstream.
In other words…
It’s poison.