Page 85 of When the Silence Breaks

“What are you doing, Ryder?” Sarah’s voice sounded high-pitched, frantic.

“We’re here, let’s look at the reason we’re all here and see if there’s even anything inside.”

“Are you nuts?”

“This is your mission, Sarah.”

“I wouldn’t have come if I’d known.”

“You would, and here we are.”

Inside was a padded crate holding a row of aged glass vials, each sealed with thick wax—the same as the vial from his grandfather’s cabin.

“You are not taking those,” she said.

He retrieved the canister from beside Dr. Kepler’s body, hating that the man had lost his life over this. Even in death, Kepler’s grip had been tight, like he hadn’t wanted to let go.

Behind him, Sarah knelt beside Dean. “Ryder. He’s still breathing,” she said, voice strained. “Faint pulse, but he’s alive.”

Ryder turned, tension coiling in his gut. How had he missed that? “We’ll get him out.”

Sarah retrieved the Beretta next to Dean, sorrow tightening her features. “He didn’t deserve this.”

“None of us did,” Ryder said.

He looked back toward the cracked container.

“Ryder.” Her voice warned him before she even stood. “You have one. That’s enough.”

“I just—I need to be sure it’s the same strain. If it’s different—”

“Then we tell someone. Someone equipped to handle it. But we don’t take it with us. Not again.”

He hesitated, then nodded, stepping back from the container.

“You’re not Kepler,” she said softly. “And you’re not Reid Maddox.”

“No,” Ryder said. “But someone has to make sure this never happens again.”

Ryder shoved the container door closed and stood.

Sarah knelt beside Dean again, fingers to his neck. “Oh no, Ryder! I-I don’t feel anything. I don’t hear his breaths.”

Ryder crouched, saw the blood, the stillness. “We can’t stay here. There’s nothing we can do for him now.”

“But—”

“If he’s gone, we honor him by surviving.”

She nodded, her breaths too fast. “Okay. Okay.”

“Let’s get out of here,” he said. “Walk behind me and put that gun away. In fact, leave it behind. We don’t want to give anyone a reason to shoot.”

Sarah set the Beretta down and followed him. He didn’t know what he would find outside the plane, but surely the men heard the gunshots and would be waiting at the perimeter of the safety zone—right? Or maybe the snow and ice encapsulated the fuselage and muted gunfire that might not have been heard over the brutal wind anyway.

Ryder crept forward and slowly peered out the hatch and, surprisingly, saw no one. What was going on? He stepped out, holding the canister up as if he had accomplished their task and the others would follow him out. An armed guard stepped forward wearing a hazmat suit.

“Got it,” Ryder said. “Now we need to decontaminate, so step back.”