Read Online The Hungry 4: Rise of the Triad (The Sheriff Penny Miller Series) by Steven Booth, Harry Shannon - Free Book Online Page B

he said carefully, “that would have been right up his alley.” He put his hand on hers. “You know, that’s the first time you’ve mentioned T.L.’s name in a long while.”
    “I think maybe I need to let him go once and for all.” Miller didn’t look at Scratch, but she squeezed his hand hard enough to telegraph intensity. Hell, she stopped just short of breaking it. “After all, it’s our time, now.”
    “Excellent! That’s the best news I could have hoped for.”
    Someone else was in the room. Both Scratch and Penny reacted instantly. They turned to the main doors to the room, seeking the source of that strange and yet oddly familiar voice. There was no one nearby, yet someone had clearly been listening in on them. Miller’s eyes shot back to that special security door. It was opening. A portly, balding man entered the conference room, followed by Ramon. Miller gasped. Scratch grunted. The man crossed the room calmly, his expensive shoes whispering along the thick carpeting. He closed the gap and put his hand on the back of Miller’s chair.
    “What the fuck are you doing here, Rubenstein?” Scratch managed. His voice was thick with rage, but he did not move.
    Miller tried to keep Ramon in her peripheral vision, but Rubenstein kept moving.
    “I’m sorry,” Rubenstein said, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, or to startle you. I’m just so pleased to hear that your short stay at our center has already reaped such positive results.”
    “I knew something was wrong around here,” Miller said. “I just didn’t see how wrong.” She shook her head and as she stood up her chair fell over. “Scratch, I told you this was too good to be true. We’ve been set up by the Army.”
    Dr. Rubenstein put up both of his hands. “No, please, Sheriff Miller, that is not true. Sit down and relax. Hear me out.”
    Scratch rose to his feet as well. He let his irritation show. “Hey, look, we don’t take orders from you anymore.”
    “It all makes perfect sense!” Miller licked her lips. “First the National Guard troopers taking us here once they knew our names. The military staff at the center, the free price tag for a luxury experience.”
    “You haven’t been enjoying yourselves?”
    “Shit. This is all just another zombie-related experiment for you, isn’t it, Artie? You are still working for those crooked bastards.”
    “Truthfully, Sheriff Miller,” Rubenstein said, “if I’d wanted to experiment on you, do you think I would have revealed myself to you so soon upon your arrival, before any of my nefarious trickery wreaked havoc upon you?”
    Scratch tilted his head to one side. “I’d dearly love to just kill you here and now, but somehow I have a feeling trying that stunt would get me shot.” He nodded to Ramon. “Am I right?”
    Dr. Rubenstein just smiled. His calm was all the proof they needed. Now was not the time.
    Miller didn’t have any other ideas, so she punted. “What do you want?”
    “The same thing you want,” Rubenstein said. “I want you to fully recover from the severe post-traumatic stress disorder that resulted from your encounter with the zombie hordes in Nevada and Colorado.”
    “I don’t have PTSD,” said Miller.
    “Come now, Penny,” Rubenstein said. Miller’s head snapped up. She and her friends had been forced to attend counseling sessions with Rubenstein back in Las Vegas, before their disastrous return to Crystal Palace, where they had attempted to recover a cure for the zombie virus. It had always irritated her when Dr. Rubenstein called her Penny. He knew that. Rubenstein’s smile slipped a gear. “Let’s discuss anxiety attacks, paranoia, bad dreams, emotional withdrawal, being easily startled or set off, protracted avoidant behavior, violent fantasies and, of course, flashbacks to trauma. Do any of those symptoms sound familiar to either of you?”
    Miller swallowed dryly. “No.”
    Scratch said, “Yes.”
    Miller turned to Scratch. “Yes? Are you