The Becoming: Redemption (The Becoming Series Book 5) by Jessica Meigs Page B

mounted in the corner of the room, watching their every
move. “You should come over to my apartment after work,” she said,
pitching her voice loud enough to carry to the cameras. Though she
wasn’t sure if they recorded sound, she acted as if they did. “We
can order in some takeout, watch some bad movies, and eat too much
popcorn.”
    Jacob’s smile returned, lighting up his face.
“Sounds like a plan,” he said, giving her a playful wink, but his
eyes were serious. “This doesn’t count as the dinner you
promised me, so don’t try to weasel out of it.”
    “I wouldn’t even dream of it,” Lindsey
said. She glanced at her watch—it was five a.m.—and scooped up her
Diet Coke can, took a deep swig of it, and dropped the rest into
the trashcan. “I need to get moving.” She stood and opened a desk
drawer to retrieve her purse. “Traffic is already going to be hell
enough without me waiting for the morning rush to start. You got my
research report from last night, right?”
    “Yeah, of course,” Jacob said. “It’s on my
desk. I’ll go through it and check in on our test subjects, let you
know how they’re currently holding together.”
    “Literally,” Lindsey muttered.
    “Be careful going home,” Jacob said, “and
text me when you get there so I know you made it.”
    That wasn’t an unusual request. Considering
the world they now lived in, where a virus could skip over into the
general population and spread like wildfire in the time it took to
complete a short drive home, tearing through the living and turning
them into aggressive, homicidal cannibals, it was typical for
friends and family to ask those traveling to let them know the
moment they arrived at their destinations. Lindsey patted the
pocket of her black slacks, where her cell phone was tucked.
    “Will do. I’ve got it all charged up, and my
spare prepaid cell is still in my glove box. I’ll see you this
evening, okay?” She didn’t wait for Jacob’s response. She
shouldered her purse and stepped out into the hallway, letting the
door fall shut behind her. Her heels clacked on the tiled floors,
echoing rhythmically down the hall so anyone ahead would know she
was coming. Unconsciously, she took the turn that would lead her
past Michael Evans’s cell, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man who
had seemingly twisted the entire facility into knots just by his
presence.
    Lindsey only partially got what she’d hoped
for. Ahead of her, she saw Major Bradford standing outside of
Evans’s cell as the two privates who had been tasked with guarding
the captive lieutenant led the shackled man out of his cell.
Another lieutenant that Lindsey didn’t know stood alongside them,
ready to do whatever was called of him. Immediately realizing what
was happening, she quickened her pace, striding forward to catch up
with the men before they took Evans topside.
    “What are you doing?” she demanded when she
caught up with the soldiers.
    Bradford barely glanced at her, signaling to
the soldiers to begin walking. “I’m taking him up to see the Wall,”
he said. “Not that I’m obliged to explain myself to you.”
    “I asked you to wait until I’d evaluated him
psychologically before you did that!” Lindsey protested. She sped
up to keep pace with the group of men, mentally cursing herself for
wearing heels that day and leaving her tennis shoes in her car.
    “I said I would take your opinions under
advisement, not that I agreed with them,” Bradford replied. Lindsey
almost growled under her breath, and her face heated up with a
bright red flush like it did in that awful way every time she got
angry. She could see Lieutenant Evans watching her with thinly
veiled curiosity, his eyes locked on her face. If she wasn’t
mistaken, she could make out a hint of recognition in his eyes,
even though before this, they’d never met in their lives. Maybe it
was the familiarity he obviously had with her sister that prompted
that expression.
    “We