Krista laughed, though it was more of a snort than a giggle. “Okay Simms, he asks you if you’re loyal, then what?”
“I said yes. I’m loyal to Nirvana. That I’m here to do whatever I can to help. That’s when he turned cold and started spouting off about me not paying attention to what was happening or some crap like that. I wasn’t sure what he meant, so I just kept quiet.”
“So how does that explain what happened with the dog?”
“Hang on, I’m getting to it,” Simms said. “After his speech, he stops and looks at me with a deadpan face and says, ‘Kill that dog. Right now.’”
“He said what?” Summer asked, turning her head to Simms.
“He told me to wrap my hands around Sergeant Barkley’s neck and choke him to death.”
“Are you serious?” Summer asked, not wanting to believe what she was hearing.
“Yes. That’s what happened. He wanted me to kill the dog to prove my loyalty.”
“Zimmer wouldn’t do that,” Krista said. “That’s just not who he is.”
“Well, he did. I’m not making this up.”
“Well, you obviously didn’t,” Summer said, giving the dog a hug. A wet, sloppy hug.
“No, of course not. How could I? When I refused, Zimmer took out a gun and pointed it at me. He said either the dog died or I did.”
“A gun? Zimmer?” Krista asked in a cynical tone.
“Yeah, it was pointed right at my head. I knew he was serious. He was going to kill me if I didn’t do exactly what he wanted.”
“Is that when Barkley attacked Zimmer?” Summer asked.
Simms nodded. “It’s like the dog could understand English. He started barking and growling and then took off and tore into his neck. Never seen anything like it.”
“Okay, that makes more sense now. I knew there had to be a reason,” Summer said, returning her eyes to the dog, who was now sitting down in the shower stall with his head back, seemingly enjoying all the attention he was getting. “Sergeant Barkley was just defending himself like anyone else would do. And you, as it turned out.”
“Wait a minute,” Krista said. “You said the dog growled and barked, then went after Zimmer.”
“Yep.”
“That would mean you had time to hold the leash tighter and pull him back.”
“Well, uh, yeah, no, it wasn’t like that exactly.”
“Then how was it? Either he took off unexpectedly or you had time to hold him back. Which was it?”
Simms didn’t answer.
“You’re a strong kid, so I’d say the chance of you not being able to hold back the dog with the leash in your hands is nil. Not if you had advance warning like that.”
“What are you saying, Krista?” Summer asked.
“I think Simms needs to say it, not me. Time to come clean, young man. Tell us what really happened.”
Again Simms paused, this time for a good ten seconds. “Okay. Okay. I let him go. Otherwise, we’d both be dead. Are you happy now?”
“On purpose—” Krista said.
“Yes, I had to. I couldn’t kill the dog like Zimmer wanted. It was the only way I could think of to stop what was happening.”
Krista held for a few beats, nodding, her mind obviously deep in thought. “You better just hope Zimmer doesn’t die, kid.”
“But you don’t understand. It was self-defense. I didn’t have a choice.”
“So you say. We’ll need to look into this matter a little more. Verify a few things.”
Simms threw up his hands and flared his eyes. “Like what? Zimmer? He’s not going to admit any of this. Why should he? I’m the new guy, not him.”
“Don’t be so sure about that. Sometimes people surprise you,” Krista said.
“Yeah, right. Not guys like him,” Simms said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn it, I never should have said anything. I’m screwed either way. Nobody’s ever going to believe me.”
Krista held for a beat. “We’ll see. For now, we do, but the jury is still, out as they say.”
CHAPTER 14
Wicks followed Nomad into the bowels of a cave located about twenty minutes south of the city. Watson was a few steps behind, watching their six, while the driver, Allison, had remained with the vehicle, making sure nobody doubled back while they were inside. This may have seemed like a low-risk babysitting mission, but Wicks wasn’t taking any chances. “How far, dickhead?”
“About four levels down,” Nomad said, “though it would go a lot faster if you untie my hands. Hard to balance this way.”
“Nah, we keep it just like it is,” Wicks said with one hand on the Nomad’s shoulder, keeping the man upright as they traversed the first flight of steps made of stone.
There were industrial-style lights installed along the path with electrical cable running between them in draping sweeps, though none of them were working. At least the rusty handrails were intact, giving Wicks confidence Nomad knew where he was going.
They’d only hiked about ten yards and already the sunlight beaming in through the entrance had almost gone extinct.
Right on cue, Watson fired up his flashlight, blasting a concentrated beam that created two extended shadows ahead. One was Nomad’s and the other belonged to Wicks.
“Who built this place?” Wicks asked Nomad.
“Who knows? Was here long before me. Was a tourist trap back in the day, though.”
“People will pay for anything, I guess,” Watson said from behind.
Wicks leaned forward to miss a low-hanging archway passing over him. Its rock-face ran smooth and was filled with browns and tans in an impressive swirl-like pattern. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought the archway had been engineered, like the bulkheads in the silo.
He took another step, tasting the dampness in the air, its wetness tingling the receptors on his tongue. He’d only been to Florida once in his life, but if he had to place a bet, he’d wager the humidity in this cave would trump what happened in that state on a regular basis.
Wicks couldn’t stop his eyes when they decided to glance up on their own. All he saw was penetrating blackness across the ceiling. It made him wonder if they were truly alone—as in the only creatures dumb enough to be inside this place without a complete security team and portable lights.
He was sure if he told Watson to shine the beam up, he’d see creepy crawlers following them across the ceiling. Truth was, he wasn’t afraid of any man. But then again, he’d never faced one with all those hairy legs and enough venom to stop his heart.
The air and the activity in the shadows weren’t the only things igniting his senses. There was the smell, too. Overpowering. Pungent. Repulsive. Scab stink to be sure. Months of it, if he had to guess.
“You lived here? With them? On purpose?” Watson asked.
“Actually, they lived with me.”
Watson snorted. “Like that matters?”
“It does in my world,” Nomad said. “They needed a place to feel safe after I liberated them from captivity.”
“From the other Scabs,” Wicks said in a matter-of-fact tone.