Dying for a Living (A Jesse Sullivan Novel) by Kory M. Shrum Page B

questioning. I wasn’t released until just before Eve’s replacement. Conveniently.”
    “Why would they do that?” Ally asked.
    “To make me look guilty and to leave me without an alibi.” Brinkley punctuated his words with little jabs of his index finger.
    “You could have at least checked on me!” I watched the trees move around us until all the hairs on my skin stood on end. This dark little patch of woods, completely out of sight of the trail and houses beyond was creepy to begin with, but as the sunlight faded around us and the sound of crickets and bugs rose to an overbearing cacophony. It was more than creepy.
    “You’re tough, Jesse.” Brinkley grabbed my shoulders and forced me to look at him. “But if they arrest me, we’ll never be able to prove the truth.”
    “Why do I even have to prove my innocence?” I demanded. I deflected his show of concern. “I was the one who almost got my head cut off.”
    Brinkley shuffled in place. I knew this dance. He did this dance when Rachel got sick.
    “Just say it,” I demanded. “What the hell is going on?”
    “The man in the hotel room with you was one of our own men. Another agent from FBRD. Replacement agents are dying,” he said.
    “Yeah, I know,” I told him and he looked surprised. “We know about Atlanta.”
    Brinkley’s sad smile said a lot of things. “Not just Atlanta. Everywhere. Someone is setting up fake replacements and killing as many death replacement agents as they can.”
    My knees shook but didn’t give. “Who? And why would they?”
    “I don’t know,” Brinkley said and I saw his own frustration etched in his face. “At first I thought it was the Church. They aren’t exactly secret in their rejection of replacement agents and it isn’t like religion doesn’t have a habit of waging holy wars or acts of terrorism against those who they consider ‘God’s enemy.’ But our own man—that changes everything.”
    Winston snorted at her feet.
    “Tell us what you know,” Ally said. “The more we know the safer Jess is. We’ll have a better idea of what we’re facing and what to expect. They can’t kill her openly, so they’re trying secretly. Don’t leave us in the dark here.”
    Brinkley considered her for a moment. Then he spoke. “FBRD has a log of all active agents and their work assignments. They have the information and means to stage these attacks. They made me unavailable to my charge at a critical time. I wasn’t supposed to be debriefed for weeks. The time change, the abruptness of the request, all of it is suspicious. And then seeing our own guy on the footage—”
    “How did you see the footage?” Ally asked.
    “Busy boy,” I muttered. “No wonder you haven’t called.”
    Ally’s forehead pinched in tight furrow. “But the bureau was established to manage the death replacement industry. Without agents, it’ll be shut down.”
    “Not everyone wants to make death replacement a permanent fixture of American culture.”
    “What does that even mean?” I had a massive headache. Knowing the whole world wants you dead will do that to you.
    “The military never wanted replacement agents mainstreamed. The only reason they released them from protective custody was because the human rights activists raised hell and they felt pressure from the President come reelection time. The fact that the military wants you back in custody is hardly a secret.”
    “But that means FBRD and the military would have to be working together,” Ally said.
    Brinkley gave her an unkind look. “The union of two thieves who have their hands so deeply inserted into each others' pockets that they cannot separately plunder a third.”
    “Are you quoting someone?” I asked. I’d never heard Brinkley talk bad about the FBRD before.
    Protective custody was before my time, thirty years back when NRD became a noticeable condition. History speculates that cases existed as far back as ancient times, and could be responsible for