“Thought that fucking thing would have died by now,” Dice said.
“One could only hope,” Archer added.
Zimmer shook his head, ignoring the gunshots still happening in the background. “No. These bleeding hearts patched him up. I tried to end the mutt, but it backfired.”
“I can see that,” Fletcher said as he kicked at one of the drain tubes lying nearby. “Looks like they did the same for you.”
“Barely,” Zimmer said as a singular thought burned a hole into his brain. “You weren’t supposed to come here. Ever. Or even look for us. That was the agreement.”
“Well, that was the deal with Frost. But that dynamic has changed after what happened at the Trading Post.”
“Wait, that’s not right. I kept my end of the bargain with all that intel on Edison.”
“And we’re thankful. But like I said before, things have changed.”
Zimmer held out an arm in Fletcher’s direction and started to lean up and onto his feet. “Help me up, Fletch.”
“Not so fast,” Fletcher said, nudging Zimmer back to the edge of the bed. “We need to have a little chat.”
Zimmer wasn’t sure if those words were a problem or not. Perhaps Fletcher just wanted to make sure he was strong enough to move before he offered assistance. Then again, this was the man whose men were swarming Nirvana and unleashing a hail of death and destruction.
Dice moved behind Fletcher and took position on the other side of him, spreading out their coverage in an arc, if he factored in the relative positions of Archer and the mustache man. Those movements were not benign. They felt planned. Tactical.
Zimmer pointed at the door behind them, hoping to break their focus. “You know there are women and children out there?”
“Yeah, so what’s your point?” Dice snarked.
Zimmer ignored the redhead, keeping his focus on Fletcher. “Those people are innocent. They’ve got nothing to do with any of this.”
Fletcher scoffed with eyes wide, angling his head in a sudden movement. “I never thought I’d hear words like that coming from a traitor like you.”
“I’m not a traitor. Just a realist.”
“I guess that all depends on how you look at it.”
“Look, I did what I had to do. It kept this place safe over the years. Obviously a lot has happened since I last spoke to you in person.”
“Yes, far more than you know. Now we’re going to work out a new deal.”
Zimmer liked the sound of the man’s last comment, giving him hope that there was a purpose to this massacre. Something that might keep him alive in the process. Something that he might have some input on, massaging the direction this new dynamic was heading. “What are you thinking?”
“We start by you telling me what I want to know.”
“That’s assuming I know anything.”
“Where is he?”
“I’m sorry, who?”
Fletcher grabbed Zimmer by the neck and squeezed, sending a jolt of pain into his body through the wound Liz had patched up.
“Wait. Please. Wait,” Zimmer said, the air flow disappearing from the pressure.
Fletcher leaned in close. “It would be wise to answer my questions the first time. Where is he?”
Zimmer struggled to get his response out. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Lipton.”
“Can’t . . . breathe,” Zimmer said with the only oxygen left in his body, praying the words were audible.
“Tell me now,” Fletcher yelled before letting go of Zimmer’s neck, shoving him back in the process.
Zimmer grabbed his own throat and coughed between a few rapid-fire gasps, his lungs fighting to right themselves. “Didn’t know . . . who you were talking about.”
Fletcher pulled a pistol from the holster on his hip, aiming the business end of it at Zimmer’s left eye.
Zimmer held up his hands. “Wait, wait, wait, I'll tell you. Just give me a second,” he said, his voice taking a lot longer to return than he hoped.
“Clock’s ticking,” Fletcher said. “Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . .”
“Yes, he’s here. You’re right. He’s here. At least he used to be.”
“What do you mean, used to be? There’s no place else to go.”
“He just left with Krista and Summer,” Zimmer answered, thinking about how Lipton had found his way to Nirvana. He wondered if Fletcher and company had followed the man somehow or perhaps had placed some kind of tracker on him. “But how did you know?”
“Actually, we didn’t until just now,” Fletcher said, lowering the gun. “We knew he went AWOL, we just didn’t know where.”
Dice spoke next, his eyes trained on Fletcher. “That means he left us to come here.”
“Edison must have recruited him along the way,” Fletcher said to Dice before looking at Zimmer. “Why didn’t you inform us?”
Zimmer directed their attention to his wound and the tubes on the floor, still rubbing his neck. “Didn’t have a chance, now did I? Was a little busy trying to keep breathing. Not that you’re helping any.”
Fletcher didn’t respond.
“You know I’m a man of my word.”
“A traitor of his word,” Dice replied.
“I wish you’d quit using that word,” Zimmer said.
“You said he left. Where did they go?” Fletcher asked.
“They’re meeting with a new group they just made contact with.”
“And they took Lipton—why?” Dice asked.
Zimmer shrugged. “Krista didn’t say.”
“What group?” Fletcher asked.
“They call themselves Blackstone.”
“Sounds like government to me,” Dice said.
“Maybe black ops,” the mustache man added.
“How’d they make contact?” Fletcher asked, his eyebrows pinched and face stiff.
“With a transmitter that Morse got working.”
“Shit, they have comms,” Dice said in a matter-of-fact tone.
Fletcher turned his head to mustache man and Archer. “Find it. Now.”
The two men nodded, then dashed out of the infirmary, their boots in high gear.
“Tell me about this meeting,” Fletcher said.
“It’s an exchange for chemicals and seeds.”
“Chemicals?”
“Apparently, we have a bacteria problem that’s killing all our crops. Without the chems and new seeds, this place is doomed. We have less than 30 days, then it’s over.”
Dice tugged on Fletcher arm. “That’s why they recruited Lipton, boss.”
“Maybe,” Fletcher replied. “But how?”
Zimmer held up his hands. “Guys. Guys. Guys. That’s not what happened. Lipton ending up here was just dumb luck. So was Horton. Krista ran into them on the way back from the Trading Post, after Edison was killed.”
“Horton is here, too?” Dice asked. “Where?”
“In the brig with the Scab girl and the dog.”
“Shit,” Fletcher snapped as his face turned a deep shade of red. Then the tension in his jaw vanished. “Wait a minute. What Scab girl?”