“Where’s the information Hunter left us?” I asked.
Tripp nodded toward the hallway. “In the study.”
“Good.” I took the Token from Marcus’ palm and added it to the pile of five. A spark carried through my body, making my toes and fingertips tingle, but it could have been the minor frostbite reminding me of the cold I’d endured a couple days prior.
“There’s something else,” Veronica said. She departed from the room, and returned with Hardy’s journal in her hands. She passed it to me, and I studied the pages. It had been written in the Believers’ alien language, and Hunter had begun to decipher it. There were notes in the corners, sections highlighted and transcribed.
“Did you read it?” I asked.
“Haven’t had an opportunity. We just remembered it,” she said defensively.
“This changes everything, doesn’t it?” Tripp walked closer, and I handed the journal to him.
“We stick to the plan. Head to Portugal, as he suggested. We’ll make our base at his property there and see if we can find the coordinates for this cavern. Estrelas.” I whispered the last word.
“What are you doing?” Marcus asked. “You have that gleam in your eyes.”
“I’m going to see an old friend.” I had my jacket on, and I hesitantly passed Marcus the Tokens. “Watch these for me.”
“You’re not leaving alone,” Tripp said, reaching for his own jacket near the exit.
I stopped him from putting it on. “No way. You’re staying with my sister and her family. Richard’s my friend.” I questioned my trust in the man, with his recent actions. Sending Beverly cryptic messages saying he could help me. If he knew anything in regard to my father’s disappearance, why had he never shared the details with me before?
“I’ll join you,” Veronica said, and she was out the door faster than I could deny her. To be honest, it was a relief.
“Don’t go unarmed,” Tripp said, and I nodded, knowing there was a gun under my seat in the rental. He tossed me my keys from the island, and I glanced at Beverly.
There was one more thing I had to know. “Did the Token come with a note?”
Bev wiped away her tears and smiled at my question. “I’ll never forget it. Be the light that shines like a star. I love you, Beverly Jane Walker.”
The words from my father echoed in my head. “He adored you,” I told her, and turned to Tripp. “Find out what the journal says, and whatever breadcrumbs Madison left behind. I want to be off first thing in the morning.”
Marcus nodded to me, and I glanced at the stack of Tokens in his grip. I hated to leave them but didn’t want to risk bringing the entire collection into the open.
“Who is this guy?” Veronica asked as we climbed into the rental.
“A friend of my dad’s. He’s been… a mentor to me,” I said, and drove past the gate, heading for Boston.
2
Richard’s street was quiet. Most of the houses still had their decorations up, seeming quite festive with the snow blanketing their yards and Christmas trees lit inside spacious bay windows. I preferred not to be seen but didn’t have time to waste. With our modified appearances and an unfamiliar vehicle, we could play acquaintances showing up for an evening cocktail, though I was dressed more like a maintenance worker than a contemporary of Richard Klein.
His driveway was empty, and I pulled into it, hopping out. I remembered Tripp’s warning and took the gun from under my seat, checking that the safety was on, and shoved it into my pants under my jacket. I felt too light without the weight of the Tokens, but they were safe with Marcus.
Veronica stared at the house, and I noticed the Christmas lights weren’t turned on. It looked like the home was empty. I walked around the house, using the rear entrance again, and knocked loudly. When no one answered, I rang the bell.
Finally, the lights flicked to life, and I heard footsteps as the door opened. Richard looked tired and possibly drunk.
“Rex! Come inside, it’s freezing out there,” he said.
“If you think this is cold…” I didn’t finish. I went first, scoping out the interior, and only then did I step aside to permit Veronica entrance.
“Where have you been? I’ve tried calling you.”
I appraised his disheveled appearance and struggled to understand why he was so unlike the usual version of himself. “What happened to you?”
He stared at the ground. “Janelle left.”
“Really?” I asked. Was this what he’d wanted to talk about? I found myself relaxing as we entered the home, and suddenly, I felt foolish for carrying a gun.
“She went after Christmas, to her sister’s in Rhode Island. Said she needed space, but we both knew this was coming for some time.”
“I’m sorry.” I patted his arm, and he ran a hand over his face. He smelled like an ashtray, and I caught a whiff of whiskey. “Are you holding up okay?”
Richard’s gaze shifted to Veronica, and he straightened up. “Who’s this lovely lady?”
“Veronica,” I told him.
“Are you two…?” Richard asked. The question seemed so out of the norm for my mentor that it caught me off-guard.
“Do you need me to call anyone? Have you eaten?” I went farther into his house, and saw the lights were mostly off. A few dishes sat in the sink, but otherwise, it looked commonplace.
“I could use a drink,” he said, moving toward his bar. I glanced at the living room and hit the light switch. A man stood across the room, watching us. I recognized him from the party, and my gaze instantly ran to the cuff of his shirt, where I’d seen the Believers’ tattoo that night.
“What have you done?” My words were a sharp whisper.
Richard poured himself a drink, spilling more than landed in the glass. “You have to understand. They took my family, Rex. Janelle and the kids… if I cooperate, they’ll be safely returned. It was you or them, and frankly, an easy choice. You don’t listen to me. You haven’t taken my advice or stopped these foolish trips you keep making. Your father is dead, and these bastards aren’t to be trifled with.” He took a long drink and slammed the glass onto a bookshelf. Veronica had stayed frozen, nearly making me forget she was with me.
“Mr. Walker, I think you have something that belongs to us,” the bald man said. He held a gun, and it wasn’t pointed at me. It was aimed directly at Veronica.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said glibly.
“Don’t mess with me, Walker. We’re aware you have the Bridge. You’ll hand it over this instant, or she dies.” He said it with little inflection. His gaze was harsh, and his expression all business.
I glanced at Richard, but he was looking away, unable to bring himself to witness our deaths. “You don’t work for them?”
“I hadn’t heard of them until your father brought me in. Even then, I only met a Believer a couple of months ago. Whatever you did down in Guatemala really sparked their interest. They came the next week, threatening me. I went to the police; can you believe it? Whoever these guys are, they have the department on the take. I was ushered out so quickly... I thought about contacting the FBI, but…” Richard gazed at the bald man and shook his head. “They had my number. Told me to play ball or they’d kill my son Henry first.” He picked up a picture frame of a family trip to Yosemite. I remembered him telling me how much fun they’d had on the vacation.
The report of the gunshot surprised me, and I jumped as Richard clutched his stomach. The gun fired again, striking him in the chest, and he tried speaking. Blood gurgled out as he slumped to the hardwood.
“Mr. Walker, I’m losing patience. Where is the Bridge?” the man asked as the back door opened. It sounded like two more people entered, but I didn’t check to confirm. Veronica reached out, taking my hand, and I squeezed it, wishing I could reassure her, but I sensed our finality. The Believers wouldn’t give up, not with the Objects’ imminent arrival to Earth. Their entire organization would be activated, with a l
ot of their efforts centered on making sure the Bridge wasn’t used. That was what this was all about. I was desperate, so I did the only thing I thought that might work.
“It’s not here,” I said. “We split them up. Veronica’s hidden hers, and I stowed the rest.” It was a bold lie, one that would probably be easy to see through, but could they take the chance?
The bald cult member finally broke his stoic expression and marched toward me. His hand struck out, slapping me across the cheek. “Where are they?” He pointed the gun at me, shaking slightly.
“I told you, they’re not…” He hit me again, this time with the gun in his grip. I fell back, pain erupting in my cheek.
“Stop it!” Veronica shouted, and he turned his attention to her.
“What do we have here? I liked you better blonde.” He traced a finger along her jawline, and I heard a woman chuckle from behind me. It took all my strength not to deck the guy, but I felt the guns aimed at us from beyond the living room. I chanced a peek and remembered their positions. The woman wore a brown leather jacket, and she chewed gum loudly. The other man was tall, a long beard draping over his sweater. He wore a necklace, and for a second, I thought it held a cross, but it was a symbol: the three-pointed star.
“Get your hands off me,” Veronica spat, and the guy clutched her chin with his meaty digits.
“Don’t worry, honey. You’re not my type.” He winked at me. “You’ll tell me where the Bridge is, or you’ll die. Here, beside your good friend Klein. He was only too happy to sell you down the river, Walker. It was almost like he’d been waiting for an excuse to screw you.”
I knew he was just trying to rattle me, but it made me gape at Richard’s dead body. Whatever he’d done, he hadn’t deserved this death.
The doorbell rang.
“Who the hell is that?” Baldy barked.
“I dunno,” the woman said, gum smacking.
“Go check!” he shouted.
“Who is it?” I heard her ask from the other room. “Sorry, we’re not interest—”
A thump.
“Dammit. Gord, go see what that’s about,” Baldy said, and Gord walked away.
The wall rattled, then glass shattered. I took my chance.
My hand reached for the gun, pulling it free from my lower back, and I clicked the safety off instinctively. Baldy tried to lunge for Veronica, but she was already moving. Her fist connected with his stomach, and he gasped but didn’t fold over. His gun fired before mine, and for a second, I thought Veronica was struck. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated, and I pulled the trigger, hitting the target from six yards away.
One. Two. The bullets penetrated his chest, and he dropped his gun.
I started to turn around, but I felt woozy, my vision blurring. We needed to help whoever had come to the door. My fingers were numb, and I felt the weight of the gun slip from them as I staggered toward the kitchen.
“Rex, stop moving!” Veronica called, and I saw Gord on the floor, face-down in a pool of blood. Just past him was the woman, her gum fallen out. Her dead eyes stared at me.
“Good thing I showed up.” I heard Tripp’s voice but saw my father walking to me. He wore beige cargo pants with leather boots, and a hat to protect his face from the sun. He crouched and whispered something faintly. Be the light that shines like a star. His mouth didn’t move, and then he was gone, replaced with Tripp’s form.
I pressed my hand to my stomach, only to find it soaked in blood.
I’d been shot.
____________
It was dark. I realized my eyelids were shut.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Hospital machines chimed in a consistent fashion.
I tried to open my eyes, but they were so dry. I managed to croak out a query while blinking roughly. “Where am I?”
“He’s coming to,” Marcus said.
Bev was near the bed, holding my hand, and I smiled at her. “Thanks for the Christmas present. It’ll look good on my…” I was nauseous, and I quickly understood what it was. Drugs. The IV was taped into my arm, and I glanced at the saline bag, with medication attachments labeled in indistinct writing.
“You were shot, Rex.” Beverly’s voice was warm. “But you’re going to be okay.”
“Do we have them?” I didn’t have to explain myself. My own words were slurry, sloppy from the drugs and dry throat.
“Don’t worry about that. You have to—” Bev moved as I tried to sit up.
The room was private, and I saw it was just the three of us. “Marcus, are we safe?”
He shrugged. “I doubt it, but what were we going to do? Tripp has the… things. Wait until you see what our old friend left us.”
“The kids are okay?” I asked Bev. Obviously, they were, or she wouldn’t be here with me.
“They’re fine.”
And my injury finally returned to the conversation. “How bad is it?”
“Lost some blood, but nothing major was hit, somehow. It passed through you, but the police are trying to…”
Panic kicked in, and I tried to think clearly. Everything was muddled. “Marcus, tell Tripp we need to leave. Bev, find out where they keep the patches. Pills too.” I pointed to my stomach. “We can’t stay.”
“Rex, you’re nuts. You got out of surgery this morning. You’re staying overnight, and we’ll—”
“What? Go home? Bev, listen to me. The police are in on it. Richard went to the cops, and they ignored him. The Believers are deep into everything.”
“We can’t just leave,” Bev said.
“When was the nurse last here?” I asked.
“Twenty minutes ago,” Marcus said.
“Don’t let them know I was awake. I need a day, that’s it.” The drugs made my eyelids heavy. “We’ll wait until morning. After the first rounds, we’ll make our move. Pull the damned fire alarm, for all I care. That’ll occupy the police.” I assumed they were waiting to speak to me, since I’d been shot.
Marcus checked out the door’s small window. “Fine. Bev, stay with him. He’ll need your assistance to escape. Follow the blue lines when you leave. That’ll take you to the elevator. We’re on the third floor.” Marcus had his phone out, and he was checking it intensely. “Go through the hall on this level. That area has a small library, so there’ll be fewer watching eyes. Act as if you’re a patient out for a stroll. Rehab or whatever.”
I laughed, the movement making my wound pulse. “How did you come up with that so quickly?”
“Watched a lot of bad hospital dramas when I was in college. Almost every third episode had someone escaping,” he mumbled. “This is your destination.” He showed Bev the map. “Find the parkade. We’ll come back first thing. Five AM. We’ll be at the doors in the van. Use the burner to text us when you’re in range. We’ll pull the alarm.”
Bev looked ready to argue, but her shoulders rolled forward and she sat beside me. “Fine.”
Marcus smiled. “Glad you’re okay, Rex.”
“What about flying? How am I going to get on a plane like this?” I asked.
“I forgot. You don’t know yet. We’re not flying commercial, or private.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You’ll see.” Then he was off.
My eyes closed, and I grabbed Bev’s hand. “Have them remove the catheter too, would you?”
“I’ll make sure.” I heard her sit in the chair as I drifted off into sedation.
____________
“Rex, you have to be losing it if you think it’s a good idea to escape the hospital,” Bev whispered as the nurse left.
“Bev, Richard’s dead. We just killed three Believers.” I lifted a hand and tested my trigger finger. I’d killed two men in the span of a few days. I felt much better today and was glad they’d decreased the drug dosage they’d given me.
“Fine. But when we’re done with this, we’re contacting the authorities.” She glanced at the door and smoothed a wrinkle on the shirt. “I’ll see if I can find you
a robe or something less conspicuous. Don’t go anywhere.”
She opened the door, and I spotted a police officer across the hall. He stared at his cell phone and gazed up when Beverly departed. I snapped my eyes closed and heard her muffled reply to him asking if I was awake. “Not yet,” she said.
I managed to turn the drip of sedatives off, and when Beverly came in with a buff trench coat draped over her arm, I started to climb from the bed. The IV came out easily enough, but the machines started to beep as I removed the finger sensor.
“Now,” I said, and Bev texted Marcus.
A moment later, the fire alarm rang out. My feet were bare, my knees wobbly as I swung off the bed. Bev was there to catch me, and I steadied myself as she helped me with the jacket. She had her purse strap around her body, and I glanced at it, seeing medical supplies stuffed inside.
We moved to the room’s doorway, and I pushed it open. The cops were jogging down the hallway, and a few nurses were talking to security, trying to determine if they should be evacuating the patients in recovery.
“Help me out,” I whispered, and we departed quickly. Beverly had her arm around me, and I attempted to walk as normally as I could, following the blue line on the floor as Marcus had instructed until we spotted the unoccupied wheelchair. To our advantage, no one seemed to notice us as we rolled through the halls.
I gritted my teeth, grimacing in pain as we went, and Bev hit the elevators. People were leaving the library, and Bev hastily pressed the “Door Close” button as a group began to approach.
The doors shut right in time, and we started descending, until we stopped at P1.
A firefighter was in our way, talking with a man in a blue jumpsuit, and we shuffled around them with a soft “Excuse me” from my sister.
They didn’t pay us any mind, and I was about to ask Bev for the cell phone when the van honked from our right. The tires screeched as it rounded a corner sharply and skidded to a halt. The side door slid wide, and Marcus was there with Veronica, helping me into the vehicle. Bev rolled the wheelchair away, abandoning it. I fell into the seat as Beverly jumped in behind me, and she slammed the door shut as Tripp raced forward.
Lost Contact (The Bridge Sequence Book One) Page 27
