Apollo Project

by Brittany E Brinegar

  “I understand the theory behind what you’re saying.” Kelly bobbed her head. “But how is it even possible? I admit I’m new to the whole wormhole game.”

  “Well a wormhole is merely a connection between widely separated regions of space-time,” Scarlett explained. “Theoretically, we could use this void to travel anywhere or any time.”

  “And in reality?” Granddad asked. “How does one even go about devising a plan?”

  “How were we brought into the Apollo Zone originally?” Reagan asked. “Did Nottingham share the magic recipe with any of his Merry Men?”

  “I am unawares.” Scarlett positioned a hand on her hip. “Gilbert had a propensity for figuring out people’s secrets, their real agenda. At some point, he discovered Nottingham’s true end game and decided to become his own boss. Gilbert wouldn’t have shared these revelations.”

  “What if we manipulate the electrical charge?” Kelly reached for the marker. “We could use the Schwarzschild static spherically symmetric solution.”

  “Or perhaps the Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers principle,” Reagan smirked.

  “An interesting notion,” Scarlett said studying the equation. “What is your background, Mrs. Pak?”

  “I’m a high school math teacher. But I’ve read Einstein and his formulas stick with me.”

  “How can we manipulate electricity? Flux capacitor?” Granddad asked.

  “A large amount of energy would be required, but perhaps we can recalibrate the beacon to use as a joystick of sorts.” Scarlett chewed on her lip and plugged numbers into the formula.

  “This stuff is over my head.,” Travis Wayne waved. “I’ll join T.C. in the tower.”

  Reagan paced to Annabeth. “What’s going on, Mabel?”

  Annabeth grinned at the nickname. “Good. I mean nothing. We’ll be ready when Tom and the rest of the group returns.” She handed her sister a package of beef jerky. “Eat something.”

  “I’m fine, you don’t have to worry,” Reagan said taking a piece.

  Barb jogged into the conference room, dragging Hibbert behind her. “Jeremy has a theory about wormholes.”

  “How were you able to get anything from the loon?” Meredith rubbed the patch of hair on the side of his head.

  Hibbert sleepwalked to the dry erase board. Reagan stalked, her eyes trained on the meteorologist. He scratched a few formulas. “I must get my hands on a beacon,” he mumbled.

  “Doctor Hibbert? I’m not sure how this equation relates. Kelly mentioned manipulating the electrical field to act as a joystick, thus allowing us to steer inside the void.” Scarlett studied the board. “I’m sorry to say, but he still seems to be out of commission.”

  Something about Hibbert rubbed Reagan the wrong way. His state appeared exaggerated, from his mumbling to his zombie-like shuffle. “Does he seem different to you?” Reagan whispered to Barb.

  “He’s not been the same since all this began,” Barb said. “Something in Jeremy snapped.”

  “I meant before the switch-a-roo.”

  Barb curled a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe. But I can’t say for sure. He isn’t acting like himself.”

  While the rest of the group resumed their tasks, Reagan’s focus remained on Hibbert. Many aspects of his demeanor showed he suffered from PTSD or swayed in a trance. One thing gave him away. He couldn’t fake the glint in his eyes. Alert, onyx eyes scanned the dry erase board. The doctor mumbled to himself as if memorizing. Reagan shadowed him as he stumbled toward the supplies. With a peep over his shoulder, he reached for a gun on the folding table.

  Reagan didn’t wait for further evidence of Hibbert’s betrayal. She drew the pistol from the waistband of her jeans. “Drop the gun, Benedict.”

  Hibbert’s rat nest hairstyle swiveled. “I must have this to protect myself.”

  “I’m not buying it Doc.” Reagan inched closer. “How long have you been playing the Moonbeam role?” Hibbert’s hand tightened around the revolver in his right hand. “Don’t make me shoot you. Drop the gun.”

  A cold steel barrel pressed into Reagan’s neck. “I think you’re the one who should drop it.”

  “What’s going on?” Kelly asked.

  “Genevieve?” Barb screeched.

  Other voices filled the room but Reagan couldn’t make out what they said. Genevieve wrapped an arm around Reagan’s throat. “Now.”

  “How long have you two been planning this coup?” Reagan tossed the gun aside.

  “Get your gun, Jeremy,” Genevieve ordered. “We are slowly going to back to the exit. None of you better move an inch or Tom’s kid gets it.”

  Barb raised her hands and inched forward. “Genevieve, this isn’t necessary. We can talk this through.”

  “It’s too late Barbara,” Hibbert said. “We’ve made a decision.” He stretched his neck to the formulas. “Thanks for the missing piece, Scarlett.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Barb asked. “Help us understand.”

  “Nothing to understand, Barbara,” Hibbert backed to the door. “This experiment is worth a lot of money. You people are fools for wanting to leave before we fully understand it.”

  Emerson made no move to drop his rifle. “Aren’t you already rich, marrying Mr. Businessman? Therein lies the problem with greedy people. Always wantin’ more.”

  Genevieve snorted. “William’s been broke for months now. He isn’t worth another second of my time.”

  Hibbert headed for the door, an unsteady pistol pointed at the group. Genevieve kept digging the gun into Reagan’s neck as she backed away. When Hibbert receded, Reagan elbowed Genevieve in the side. Genevieve stumbled outside the conference room, but Hibbert slammed the door. Kelly, Granddad, and Emerson rushed to Reagan’s side. They rammed the door, but it didn’t budge.

  “They locked us in,” Granddad said through gritted teeth.

  Emerson fired a few shots at the door. “Guess blasting through won’t work.” He rubbed his scraggly beard. “I’ve got some C4. It’ll do the trick.”

  “No way, too much and you’ll blow us to smithereens and Kingdom Come.” Kelly clawed his arm.

  “Hey, I’m not just some backward hick. I got my Masters in history and served with the Army from when I was eighteen years old. I know a thing or two about explosives.”

  “I’m not sure how a degree in history relates to explosives. Your thought process is flawed,” Kelly said.

  “Hey, guys? Do you smell smoke?” Annabeth asked.

  Chapter 34 – Silver and Gold

  Tom

  Following a conversation with the profiler, Tom and the group hatched the plan. A dangerous one, but the option of waiting didn’t appeal. If the Gold Fever Team figured out how to use a beacon to find a wormhole to their destination, they would disappear. The unit briefly discussed the ethics of “picking off” the sentries as Sunny suggested. The decision to move forward obtained sign-off from all parties.

  Hunter had the longest route, skirting through the woods on the eastern side to position himself on the perimeter of the silver mine. He owned the responsibility of taking out three goons, designated Goon 1, Goon 2, and Goon 3, roaming the front of an outlying building on the east. Sunny’s route on the western side entailed dispatching the sniper (Goon 4). He was on the roof of the tall building protecting the presumed base of Bill Stutley.

  Deep into the woods on the western side, Robin’s job required locating a position where she could eliminate Goon 7 and Goon 8, both wandering in a figure-eight formation guarding the southern roadway into the mine. Scotty, further north from Robin, would handle Goon 5 and Goon 6, with help from Sunny if necessary.

  Tom’s burden was to storm the road into the mine once the commotion started. If Goon 7 and Goon 8 were wiped out in Robin’s attack, Tom would ascertain the location of Elaine, Guy Gisborne, and the Ricks. Tom had to bust through the barrier of mercenaries before finding Stutley.

  Jasper and Davidson protected Tom’s rear and moved in upon c
learing the sentries. Dixie’s task involved snagging the snowmobile on the edge of the mine when the gunfire settled.

  Using mirrors, Tom received signals from Hunter, Sunny, Scotty, and Robin. He signaled the countdown and waited for the world to ablaze. Feeling adrenaline, Tom charged as gunshots rang. Goon 4 plunged from the tall building and Guisborne circled, jerking his head as Goon 1 and Goon 2 toppled – Hunter’s handiwork. Goon 3, Hunter’s final target, sealed himself behind a lean-to.

  Doors from the newest building flew open and two men in suits with military weapons busted out with jackets flapping. The Ricks brandished machine guns in unison. One of them fired toward Hunter’s location. Goon 7 crawled from a hiding spot behind trees and his head exploded. Robin’s dead-eye. Goons 5 and 6, Scotty’s targets and the hardest job answered the shots with volleys into the hillside toward Robin, Sunny, and Scotty.

  Trusting the team, Tom hustled along the road as Lee Richards joined Guisborne, positioned behind a yellow trailer underneath a spider-webbed tower with a conveyer belt. Richards steadied a rifle and aimed at Hunter’s spot. Tom scraped to his knees finding gravel through the melting snow. He squeezed three rounds from his pistol and rolled behind a shed with electrical lines running in and out. A dozen shots peppered into the shed, splintering it into pieces.

  Sunny and Hunter were positioned a half-mile away, but Tom counted on Robin to bail him out if he drew one of the Merry Men. With only a quarter of the shed remaining, Tom busted to the inside and crawled behind a generator as the last of the wood exploded. From behind, Jasper and Davidson fired at Richards and Guisborne. Tom motioned to them, knowing they had little cover if they left the trees on the edge of the road. The duo stayed but laid enough cover fire to keep Tom alive. Guisborne slipped to the door of the newest building as Robin sprinted to the edge of the woods in between Guisborne and Tom. She hit the enemy in the shoulder but didn’t take him out as he stumbled inside the building. Richards slipped around the shed to Tom’s right, staying low. When Richards poked his head from a ditch, Tom and Robin shot him dead.

  Feeling the surge of a winning plan, Tom tracked the other Rick, Rick English. Dashing across the roof of the tallest building, English claimed a spot to pick off approaching enemies.

  “Come on Hunter, I hope you’re still in place,” Tom mumbled.

  Robin vaulted in the open, potential mincemeat for the sniper. With Hunter not in a position, Tom skipped and drew attention from the exposed Robin. He fired his rifle at the roof without aiming, which spurred Goon 3, behind the lean-to, into action. Tom dodged behind the yellow trailer’s tires as automatic gunfire clanged metal.

  Catching a glimpse of Goon 3 mounting the trailer, Tom held his breath and leaped away from the tire. One bullet whizzed by his ear as he sprayed shots at Goon 3. The man fell away and Tom adjusted his attention to English on the roof. Robin fired, pinning him behind a cement block supporting a platform where the conveyer belt ended.

  English fired shot after shot into the concrete, trying to scare her into sticking her head out. Tom didn’t have a clear path to English and if he left the cover of the trailer, the sniper would adjust and get him. He kept his eyes on English, a methodical worker. English popped off rounds, re-loaded and resumed. With the greed of a smug nerd on Call of Duty, English abandoned his cover to ambush Robin. Seconds after he adjusted his position, English’s chest exploded. Hunter was a top shot.

  The gunfire settled except for an occasional pop. Scotty downed all of his difficult targets except one, judging from the sound. Robin motioned to Tom and loped. Seconds later the shots stopped. Scotty was either hit or clear to smash inside the building. Checking the rear, Tom half-grinned as Dixie spun away on the snowmobile.

  Chapter 35 – Smoke and Mirrors

  Reagan

  “Where’s it coming from?” Barb asked from the rear of the conference room.

  “Did you find cigarettes?” Dawn scowled at her husband.

  Meredith scoffed. “I haven’t found any smokes since this whole crazy business began. Have you been holding out on me?”

  Reagan backed from the door, in search of the smell. A bang emanated from the supply table as several backpacks burst into flames. Screams filled the room. Reagan sprinted for the supply table and wrapped her arms around her sister. She dragged the taller girl to safety as she searched for wounds. Annabeth cradled her injured left arm. The flames licked her forearm, leaving behind charred skin. A few seconds later, Scarlett knelt to her side doctoring the burn. Mickey placed his furry head on Annabeth’s knee, doing his best to comfort his new friend.

  “It isn’t too bad, Annabeth. You’ll be okay.” Scarlett’s gaze found Reagan. “We must formulate a plan to escape.”

  Reagan closed her eyes for a moment. Her knees wobbled as she stood. Granddad and Barb beat the fire with blankets, but it only angered the flames. Meredith and Dawn pounded on the door, screaming for help. A dejected Olivia leaned against the wall for support. Emerson was on the other side of the room helping Nate Campbell and Gus to their feet.

  “The fire extinguisher is gone,” Kelly said pointing to an empty hook on the wall.

  Reagan dabbed the sweat forming on her brow. It wouldn’t be long before flames engulfed the entire room. “Bull, get the C4 ready.”

  “On it,” he said hustling to the weapons pile.

  Reagan placed a hand on Meredith. “You and Dawn gather any backpacks not ablaze. We can’t lose the supplies.”

  “I think fleeing the inferno is more important,” Dawn squeaked.

  “My lungs are burning,” the smoker complained.

  “Emerson is going to blow the door with C4. Y’all might want to take cover.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, the Caribou Crew did as Reagan asked. Granddad rescued a few bags between fighting the fire and tossed them to Kelly.

  “Barb,” Reagan called. “Help Scarlett get the injured people behind the couch.” Barb flashed thumbs-up as she jogged to the opposite side of the room. Reagan knelt next to Emerson. “What can I do to help you?”

  “Nothing.” He poked a wire into the clay. “Make sure everyone’s ready to move.”

  They finished collecting as many packs and guns as they could carry and ducked behind an overturned table. Emerson placed the charge and ducked for cover. More smoke filled the room as the door busted from its hinges and propelled into the hallway.

  Channeling Michael Scott and George Constanza, Meredith was the first to dash to safety.

  “We need to stop the fire before it spreads to the rest of the club.” Barb and Kelly bailed to find a hose or another extinguisher.

  Reagan helped a woozy Annabeth to her feet. “I’m fine,” she said. “It hurts but I can walk.”

  “I know Martha, you’re a tough high school freshman.” Reagan exhaled.

  “Hey, I’m about to be a sophomore in a few weeks. Coach even says I might make then basketball team this year.”

  Granddad, Scarlett, and Emerson dropped the supplies in the lounge area. Annabeth sat on a couch next to Gus and Mickey.

  “Hibbert started the fire,” Nate Campbell mumbled as he collapsed in a chair. “He had a charge set.”

  “What’s going on?” Travis Wayne smashed through the dining room, rifle drawn. “We heard an explosion.”

  T.C. hobbled behind him. “Was it the Merry Men?”

  “There’s a fire in the conference room,” Reagan said.

  T.C. stayed behind with the injured, while Travis Wayne and Reagan joined the bucket line. Nate Campbell, less groggy, offered a helping hand.

  “There has to be a better way.” Travis Wayne tossed another bucket of water on the flames.

  Granddad emptied the foam extinguisher onto the worst of the flames but the fire refused to quit.

  Scarlett entered the room with a ladder and a screwdriver. “The club has a sprinkler system, but the sensors aren’t working. Maybe we can give it a hand.”

  Travis Wayne commandeered the job. He clim
bed the ladder and smacked the nearest sprinkler. Water sprayed from the crooked head and like magic, the rest of the sprinklers spewed to life. The group cheered in excitement and Mickey howled.

  Travis Wayne jostled his damp hair like a dog after a bath. “How did the fire start?”

  “Genevieve and Hibbert turned on us,” Kelly said. “Went after the technology and decided to barbeque us.”

  Kelly’s explanation came to a halt when gunshots echoed through the building. Reagan charged the hallway, Glock in her right hand. Travis Wayne’s light footsteps tapped behind her. Blood covered the floor of the dining room. Reagan muffled a gasp as the trail led her to T.C.

  “Jacki took the kids.” He choked.

  Reagan fell to the ground beside T.C. “Why?”

  “Leverage for Scarlett,” he gasped in a final breath.

  Scarlett released the pressure on the fatal gunshot. “I’m sorry T.C.”

  Reagan snagged her gun and a backpack with medical supplies. “Jacki couldn’t have gone far. Travis Wayne, Kelly, you’re with me.”

  “I’m coming too,” Scarlett said.

  “No.” Reagan gripped her shoulders. “For some reason, Jacki wants you. We can’t let her win. Emerson, head to the tower and shoot anyone you don’t recognize. The Hunting Party should be back soon. Until then, keep everyone safe.”

  Fracturing the group wasn’t ideal, but they didn’t have time to debate the consequences.

  Chapter 36 – True Grit

  Tom

  The stench of gunpowder, blood, and death hung in the air as Tom assembled with Hunter, Davidson, and Jasper behind a mine car on a track. The track disappeared into a tunnel on the northwestern corner of the complex. The screeching hum of metallic tin flapping in the wind made the only noise since the cease-fire.

  “Who’s left?” Davidson asked.

  “Constanza could’ve escaped through the tunnel,” Tom said.

  A commotion from the second-story broken-out window drew Tom’s attention. Stutley leered inside. Shielding his stocky form, he held a kneeling Scotty at gunpoint. Scotty’s jacket was missing and blood oozed through his soaked shirt. To one side of Stutley, Guisborne leaned on Elaine for support. Elaine wore her injured arm in a sling. The duo hunkered inside the building, weapons drawn but clear of the line of fire.