Chapter 3 Their Captor Returns

• Just ask Brice asked the shepherd to start there, they both heard shouting outside the hut. The yells drifted on the air, but Brice couldn’t determine what it was about. Both he and the other man fell silent as they listened to gunshots. Brice wondered how many more people would die while he slowly froze to death. His eyes scanned the bright green-blue eyes of the stranger in his arms. Something deep and savage fought against the idea of this man being killed and tossed into a mass grave like all the others. Brice thought he should have some self-preservation and maybe care about his problems... but he didn’t. Brice cared about the hands touching him right now. Brice cared about this stranger making it home safe.
• The shepherd pressed his forehead to Brice’s sternum and inhaled. Even after the area outside their little prison went silent, the man didn’t speak for a while. They both listened to the wind and the rain as the elements battered the little shanty. The man in his arms appeared lost in thought, and Brice didn’t know how much time passed before he lifted his head to catch Brice’s eyes.
• “I thought about it, and they were torturing my cousin for information. They thought Carl was an agent like my brother Butch. They wanted to know things about Snow Flu. This...” The man waved in a circle. “This was all about Snow Flu. They kept asking if I was an agent, and….” The shepherd trailed off and swallowed hard.
• “Is he?” Brice paused. “Is your cousin still alive?” He figured he knew why Carl wasn’t in the hut with them.
• “They killed Carl. I feel responsible for that. I don’t know what I’m going to say to my aunt and uncle.” The shepherd dropped his head into his hands.
• “You can’t blame yourself for the Originals and their choices.” Brice hugged the shepherd tighter. “They’re crazy mean bastards.”
• Briefly, Brice thought about telling the other man that he was an H.S.P.C. agent, but he changed his mind. The less this guy knew about Brice, the better. Brice didn’t even want to tell the guy his name. So far, The Originals didn’t realize that Brice was an agent, and he planned to keep that information to himself. His captors thought he was dating Toby. Toby kept saying they were boyfriends while they cut off his fingers. Brice would never be able to thank his ex-boyfriend for the lie. The story probably saved Brice from losing more than his one foot. Well... it would be a thank you for now. Brice still might die here.
• As Brice stared down at the man in his arms, another thought poked him. If he told this man he was an agent, what if The Originals beat the stranger thinking Brice had told him something important about Snow Flu. This lost shepherd could get caught in the crossfire. This stranger didn’t deserve that.
• “They asked Toby about Snow Flu too. Toby was an agent, and they want a cure.” Brice rubbed the stranger’s arms. “The mass grave is full of bodies.”
• “If they have a bunch of people dead or dying, The Originals in this area might think that the agents have a vaccine for Snow Flu and won’t give it up.” The shepherd tucked his arm between Brice’s abs and his chest. The ice-cold skin had Brice shivering. “I should’ve figured that out before. They are using that fake story to get agents to come out here. They hope one of them will give up the antidote. We’re being held and tortured for something we don’t have.”
• “We all want a way to survive Snow Flu. Gears works on it at H.Q.” Brice arranged the shepherd between his legs and worked double-time to infuse more of his body heat into the cold flesh. “But the agents don’t have a remedy yet. No one does.”
• “I don’t think the people out here have Snow Flu. If there are that many bodies in a mass grave, then whatever is killing The Originals is something else.”
• “Why do you say that?” Brice asked.
• “Because of how fast Snow Flu spreads. You know, they use the word flu, but I don’t even think Snow Flu is from the strain of influenza. I watched influenza kill, and I have seen Snow Flu. I know what both look like and how they work. Snow Flu is something else entirely.” One aqua eye met Brice’s. “If The Originals had that many people dying from Snow Flu, even our captors would have the virus by now. Hell, we would have it.”
• “I’ll give you a B plus for deduction.” Brice ran his thumb over the stranger’s cheek. Though his skin was bruised, the flesh was soft, and it had Brice wanting to touch more. He sighed. This guy had beautiful eyes and was wicked smart. Even at H.Q., Gears talked about how he thought Snow Flu was human-made and might even be a designed weapon and not a natural illness. As Brice stared down at the shepherd in his arms, everything inside of him hoped the other man would survive this hut and live to... find happiness, find love, find whatever he wanted. Deep inside of him was an urge, a longing, to see this man walk out of here and maybe even... Brice pushed all other thoughts out of his head. “You would make a good H.S.P.C. agent.”
• “You’re probably sarcastic, but I don’t care. You can grade me all you want as long as you keep me warm.”
• Brice laughed as the door slammed open again. Their two captors had returned, armed and in a bad mood. The men grabbed Brice’s arm, and they yanked him out of the other man’s hands.