Lost Contact (The Bridge Sequence Book One)

by Nathan Hystad

  “Let’s focus. Anything strange go on today?” I asked, not wanting to recall the bizarre date I’d just experienced.

  “Like, did any black-suited G-man types knock on the door, flashing fake badges? No. But the pizza guy did forget to charge me for the breadsticks.” Marcus glanced to the half-empty pizza box on the table.

  “Good.”

  Someone banged loudly on the door, a muffled voice calling through the dense wood. “It’s after ten. Who the hell…?”

  I walked over slowly, wondering if I should take my gun. I pressed my eye to the door viewer and saw Hunter Madison’s distorted face.

  I unlocked the deadbolt and stepped aside, letting him in. His expensive jacket was blanketed in snowflakes, and more sat on his gray hair. He was animated as he dashed inside, shaking flakes from his sleeves. “Rex, you’ve been holding out on me. Let me see it.”

  I froze. “See what?”

  “I know you have it. Don’t be silly.” The billionaire was alone, and I peered out the door to see his driver parked in the luxury sedan, the engine still running. I closed the door as Hunter strode through my townhouse, his gaze lingering curiously on my few possessions. “How quaint.”

  I suspected he didn’t spend much time in regular people’s houses, and I dismissed the insult quickly. “What do you want?”

  He shifted to Marcus’ side, looking at the computer. “You found the Case.”

  “Case? You’ll have to be more…” I started to say, but he moved with a speed defying his age and health.

  “Listen here, Rexford Walker. I paid for your little adventure, and you’re going to tell me what you found now, or you’ll regret it.” Hunter was serious, his gaze murky and cold, his hands clutching my shirt.

  “How did you know?” I asked calmly.

  “You had to have the bags scanned at security, didn’t you?” He pulled his cell phone out and flipped it to face me. My duffel bag showed on the screen, the scan showing the shape of the cube inside it.

  He let go, and I nodded, impressed that he’d been able to access the Caracas airport scans like that. “Fine. If it’s any consolation, I was about to call you.”

  “Is that so?” he asked.

  “Sure,” I lied. I would have had to tell him something if I wanted to continue the search, but how much information I shared was up in the air. “Be right back.”

  I left him with Marcus while I went to my hiding spot under the office floor. I returned shortly after, and Marcus had three glasses of whiskey poured. Hunter held his, sniffing it as I brought the object in the original burlap sack. He stared at the bag as he downed the drink and set the glass on the island.

  “This is it?”

  I opened the drawstring, pulling the cube out. He stumbled toward me, his hands clasping it firmly. “This is the Case. Hardy explained his theory well.”

  “He knew this existed?” I asked. So far, I’d had little to go on. Marcus hadn’t been able to translate the book yet, and I feared we never would.

  “There are six Tokens and one Case. Once combined in the proper order, the Bridge will appear.”

  “In the right location,” I finished.

  “That’s right. Portugal. Estrelas.”

  “Stars. You know the spot now?” I asked.

  “I always have, and I’ve been there, as I’ve said. Many times. But it’s barren. Nothing to indicate your father or Clayton ever visited. It’s an empty cavern, with a hole in the ceiling and a pedestal directly under it.”

  My hands flexed with extra energy as he spoke of it. “That has to be the Bridge access point.”

  Marcus’ expression was grim. “This is real?”

  “You didn’t believe before, son?” Hunter asked.

  “I dunno. I mean, Rex is a little pragmatic about this stuff, but now, with hired guns chasing us and unidentified objects arriving in our solar system… I kind of wish it weren’t true. How can we go back after knowing all of this?” His question was simple, and it sounded hypothetical, but that didn’t prevent Hunter from answering.

  He sat at the island, clutching the Case. “You don’t, son. Once you’ve seen Pandora’s Box, you come to be obsessed. Everything becomes futile, because if there is so much more to this existence than the monotony of life, we’re driven to obtain it. Can you imagine what it was like to live five thousand years ago? With no means to travel, no knowledge of anything outside your own plains, or valley, or island, or whatever you lived nearby?

  “Picture that, and suddenly, you see a boat crash on the shore, or a plane land among the fields. Then it leaves before you’ve had a chance to investigate. Would you be able to return to tending the crops, to hunting for food, to building your hut?”

  “I’d probably need to eat, so yeah,” Marcus joked, but Hunter wasn’t fazed by the comment.

  “I’ve known about the Bridge for years, and suspected that aliens existed since before the Believers showed me proof,” he told us. Hunter’s eyes were watery, his knuckles white as he held the Case.

  Something he said stuck in my brain. “Proof? What’s your evidence of alien life?”

  He seemed to notice his blunder, but he dismissed it. “Never mind. This is important, Rex. Humanity has been waiting for this moment for ages. Since every culture has looked to the sky for answers, now we must do the same and find them.”

  I expected him to say more, but he went silent.

  “We need more money,” I said quietly.

  Hunter’s rheumy glazed-over stare met my gaze, and he smirked. “Where are they? You found the Tokens, didn’t you? You Walkers are brilliant; I’ve always said it.”

  “I haven’t found them, but I think I know where they’re hidden,” I admitted.

  The change in his expression caused me to step away, trying not to make the motion obvious. “Where?”

  I glanced at Marcus, and he protectively placed a hand on his laptop. Hunter noticed.

  “I’m not ready to tell you that. It’s… I want to be the one to gather them. If I offer my only bargaining chip to you, I could be left in the dust.”

  Hunter made a tsking sound with his lips and relinquished the Case over to me. “You have two options, Rex. You can give me this Case, along with the coordinates for the Tokens. Right now. I’ll pay you one million dollars, and your friend here half of that. It’ll become common knowledge that you botched your task, and that I’m disappointed in your failure. The Believers will give up, and you’ll return to life as you know it.”

  Marcus had a hard time retaining his poise, and I had to admit, the idea of stopping and taking the cash was enticing. “These sightings. The ones near Pluto. What are they?”

  “The Believers will say it’s their saviors, returning to Earth.”

  “But not to give us the answers to life?” Marcus asked.

  “Quite the opposite. I suspect, as they do, that destruction is more likely,” Hunter said.

  I considered this and downed my whiskey with a quick tilt of my hand. “What’s my other option?”

  Hunter flashed another look, one that betrayed his emotions. He knew I was going to continue, and his answer came in a hurry. “We make a very small team and spend the next two weeks gathering each of the six Tokens. You can hold on to the coordinates if you please, but I will be a part of this. You run the team, but I run the show. Understood?”

  I saw the dying man, his desperation seeping through his composed speech.

  “Marcus, you have a stake in this.” I didn’t keep a lot of friends, not ones I could trust with my life. “What do you want to do?”

  He waited a minute, clearly deep in thought as he contemplated the money versus the adventure. If aliens were coming to destroy us, as Hunter suggested, he might not have a lot of time to enjoy the cash, and I could see him evaluating these very facts as I waited for his answer.

  “What the hell. If there’s a Bridge, we’re going to find it,” he said, standing up.

  The three of us were close togeth
er, and Hunter stuck his arm out, palm facing the floor. “What do you say, boys? All for one?”

  I hesitated but added my hand after Marcus did. “I’m in.”

  Part II

  The Team

  1

  December 12th, 2025

  I thumbed through the journal for the tenth time that morning, unable to determine where the Bridge cavern was located. Hunter wouldn’t tell us, and with the Believers searching for it too, I didn’t blame him. He’d been there, and so had my father, but Dad had abandoned Hunter, leaving him behind and out of the loop. It was probably a good thing for the wealthy entrepreneur; otherwise, he’d be dead like my dad and Clayton.

  “Dead.” I said the word out loud as I set the book on the desk, and wondered if he wasn’t really gone. Maybe he existed somewhere. A bridge, by definition, was a structure that carried across an obstacle. They connected two places. By this logic, Dirk Walker could have taken this Bridge and arrived elsewhere.

  But why had he never returned?

  I glanced out of my office, seeing my luggage beside the kitchen table. The car would be here shortly, but I didn’t feel ready. While everyone in town was settling into the holiday season, thinking about their final days of work before their families came to visit and Santa rolled into their chimneys, I was prepared to embark on the journey of a lifetime.

  I flipped my computer open and scrolled to the saved bookmark. The syndicated radio show played on the app after I clicked on the latest episode.

  “Welcome to Across This Great Nation with Bill McReary. As most of you are aware, I’ve been keeping a close eye on the mysterious shapes continuing toward Earth. One first appeared near Pluto almost a month ago, and shortly after, we discovered there were two of them. Identical in size and shape as far as we can tell, and I’ve been told they have increased velocity. Scientists are baffled, and we’ve had various professionals on the show to speculate, but no one seems to have the answers we’re seeking.

  “Today, we’re speaking with Isabella, and she claims to have been part of an organization that centered their beliefs on this moment in our history.”

  I stopped fidgeting with the computer and leaned back, listening closely. This sounded revealing, and even though I’d been ignoring the whole “mysterious objects in space” for the most part, I felt confident there was a connection to the mission I was participating in.

  “Thank you for having me, Bill.”

  “Isabella, tell me about this group you were referring to.”

  “They’ve been around for decades. I was brought in young, because of my boyfriend. He was older, successful, but caustic. I found out what he was actually doing when I suspected him of cheating on me; he only laughed and invited me to join their meeting.”

  “And where were you, Isabella?” Bill asked.

  “I lived in Chicago at the time. If I told you his name, you wouldn’t believe me,” she said.

  “I’ve heard a lot of implausible things in my life, and more often than not, it’s the really unfathomable ones that have come true. You can keep him anonymous if you like.”

  “The Believers don’t let just anyone leave their fold. Once you’re in, you’re in. It’s… I’ve feared for my life for the last eight years, Bill. Every day.” Isabella’s voice wavered as she spoke.

  “I’ve heard of this group, the Believers. You were involved with them?”

  “Yes. As I said, it wasn’t by choice. Once they had their claws in me, I couldn’t escape. I saw… too much. But their main focus was preparing for the return of their redeemers.”

  “And by this, we’re not talking about Jesus or Judgment Day?” Bill asked.

  “We will be judged, according to the Believers, but not by God. By them.”

  “Them?”

  “Alien beings. I didn’t trust them at the time, Bill, but… have you seen these things? Their trajectory is leading them to one place. Earth.”

  There was a slight pause: dead air as the host contemplated what he’d heard. If what she said was true, how had Hunter Madison gotten out of this cult?

  “Isabella, was this a cult? What kinds of things were done behind closed doors?”

  I waited, leaning closer to the laptop’s speaker.

  “Sacrifices, prayer, and attuning.”

  Somehow Bill managed to avoid asking about the sacrifice comment, and he went for the easier question. “What is attuning?”

  “The Believers await the return of these aliens. They speak their language, or think they do. Attuning is an ancient meditation, meant to link them to their masters when they arrive.”

  I had never heard of such a thing and decided to interrogate Hunter further when we were next together.

  “Did you practice this? Do you speak their language?” Bill’s voice was low, his excitement palpable through the speakers.

  “I tried to. I didn’t attune. I wasn’t high enough. I catered to the leaders.”

  “So there’s a ranking system?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “Can you offer anything in the alien tongue?” Bill asked calmly.

  Isabella’s voice changed, her words thick and heavy. “Dreen allono reespenlen.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  A pause. “Prepare for arrival.”

  My skin itched at her words. It reminded me of the scrawling in Hardy’s book, and I decided to ask Hunter about the language. He’d failed to mention that to us.

  “You heard it here first, folks. The language of the incoming savior aliens. Take a break, grab a stiff drink, we’ll be right back with more from the former cult member Isabella.”

  It cut to an ad, and my buzzer sounded.

  I closed the laptop, wondering how much of what the guest had said was true. Were there really aliens coming to Earth, or was it as most of the scientific world thought? Asteroids from deep space. They predicted the twin objects would avoid Earth and head past, using the Sun’s gravitational orbit to loop around, shooting them far away forever.

  Marcus waited outside in a thick winter jacket, gloves on his hands. Snow fell, and I shivered, recalling one of our destinations. “You ready?”

  “All set.” It had been two days since Hunter had visited, and they’d gone very slowly. With my exams marked and sent to the college, I was done until the end of the year, when I’d have to go in for a few meetings. That didn’t leave us a lot of time, especially during the holiday season. We still had to build our team, and that wasn’t going to be as simple as Hunter thought it would be.

  Marcus collected one of my bags and I took the other, glancing at my place before closing the door and locking it. With any luck, I’d be home before I knew it. Over the last couple of days, I’d realized how impossible all of this sounded. A Bridge to another world.

  But even if there was no such thing as aliens, I was going to end up where my father was last known to have visited, and I wanted closure on that part of my life so I could focus on my career and maybe settle down eventually. My mind was always wandering, trying to take me to the next thing, the next clue, the trail left by Dirk Walker over thirty years ago. It wasn’t healthy.

  I considered what Isabella had said, about some man bringing her into the fold without a choice, and I stopped near Madison’s town car. “Marcus, you know you don’t have to do this, right?”

  The driver came around, taking my luggage. He stowed it in the trunk while Marcus stared at me with a confused expression. “What are you saying, Rex?”

  “This… it could be dangerous. I don’t necessarily believe everything, but there is an alien cult after us. We’ve seen the cars, the tails, the guns in El Mirador. Even if it’s all in their heads, they will harm us. The trek, the stops around the world… this is not safe and predictable.”

  “Rex, are you forgetting I’ve followed you to five continents already, searching for these Tokens? I want to do this. I need to.” Marcus’ voice was low, and I set a hand on his shoulder.

 
“I just don’t want things to get out of hand. I feel like I’m dragging you into the crosshairs, and I don’t like it. You should go home to Florida for the holidays. See your family.”

  “And leave you with no one guarding your back? I don’t think so,” Marcus told me firmly. “Besides, how are you going to get anything done without me around? You’d be lost.” He opened the car door and slid into the idling vehicle.

  Snow melted on the warm hood as it fell, and I glanced around the street, finding it quiet in the early morning. Everything was covered in a fresh layer of flakes, and the streetlights were on despite the hour. The thick clouds were low, making the day darker than usual.

  I entered the vehicle and shuffled in beside Marcus. Once the door closed, we started to drive, marking the official start of our adventure.

  ____________

  The helicopter landed at Hunter Madison’s East Hampton mansion, and the pilot confirmed we could disembark. Francois arrived, his slicked hair unaffected by the gust the rotor sent across the yard.

  “This way, sirs,” he said, and grabbed our two heaviest bags without issue. Marcus just shrugged, taking his carry-on, and the helicopter lifted, the noise finally growing quieter by the time we’d crossed the grounds to the house’s rear patio.

  Hunter stood inside, eyeing the sky as if he anticipated a tornado to appear. His expression was cautious, even fearful.

  I followed after Francois, passing over the extremely detailed cobblestone courtyard. The entire area was strung with Christmas lights, surprising me. “Hunter, I expected more of an Ebenezer vibe from you,” I told him, and the billionaire’s gaze lowered, as if he’d only then realized we’d entered his home.

  He looked older, his cheeks a little sallower, his hair whiter, if that was possible. “Welcome back, Rex. Hello, Marcus.” He held out his hand, and we took turns shaking it.

  I reached for my bag and pulled out my laptop. “I have some ideas on the team.”

  “Straight to business?” Hunter asked. “Marcus, tell me, is he always this anxious to work?”