Endangered
Page 8
“Thanks, Edna. You’ll take care of the vehicles before daybreak?”
“Of course, dear,” Edna replied, still smiling as she looked behind Tora and caught Aspen’s eye. “Is that her? She’s quite beautiful. You didn’t mention that on the phone.”
Edna stepped forward and wrapped thin arms around Aspen. “Welcome to the sanctuary, dear.”
Oscar, Helga, and a sleepy-looking Skye joined them. The others trudged wearily from the Hummers toward the cabin.
“Thanks,” Aspen said, grateful for the fleeting warmth of Edna’s hug. Edna’s arms might be thin, but that woman could hug. “We all appreciate that you’re letting us stay.” She watched as Tora disappeared inside the cabin.
“Oh, I’m just the welcome wagon, dear. This is Tora’s sanctuary.”
That explained a lot. Tora was obviously accustomed to calling the shots. Well, the doctor was about to get a wake-up call because Aspen took orders from no one. Did being a Myriad trump being the leader of a Shroud sanctuary?
“If everyone will follow me, I’ll lead you to the tunnels.”
“Tunnels?” Aspen asked, suddenly uneasy.
“Tora didn’t tell you?” Edna patted Aspen’s hands like a child’s. “The sanctuary is all underground, dear.”
Underground tunnels sounded less like a sanctuary and more like a dungeon.
“Savor that last breath of fresh air,” Edna said, inhaling deeply. “You won’t be coming back up to the surface for a while.”
“What?” Aspen asked. “How long is a while?”
“New members are permitted to revisit the surface after one month.”
This was sounding less like a dungeon and more like a cult. Well played, Tora. Instead of sharing that tidbit on the drive over, Tora’s convenient disappearance had forced Edna to do her dirty work. She’d obviously assumed Aspen wouldn’t dare argue with an old lady in fuzzy slippers. Frowning, Aspen was about to open her mouth anyway in outright defiance when Oscar grabbed her by the arm and yanked her aside.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he whispered. “But this is the safest place for you right now. Will you do me a favor and just go with the flow?”
“You don’t fool me,” she whispered back. “You’re only saying that because you’re a zombie.”
Oscar stared at her in confusion. “What?”
“Zombies love dungeons. It’s like a well-stocked cooler of buffet-a-la-brain down there.”
He laughed in spite of himself. “We’re in this together. I have your back, kid.”
“Fine. But if they try to get me to wear one of those prairie dresses, I’m so leaving.”
“Fair enough. For the record, though, I think you’d look nice with your hair in a bun.”
Edna led everyone into the cabin with assurances that their equipment would be unloaded and brought down as soon as possible.
Hank called out from the back of the line. “What about our Hummers?”
“Not to worry,” Edna replied as she led them through a quaint living space with an armchair, side table, and wood stove. Bookshelves were built into the walls and bursting at the seams with paperback novels. “They’ll be stored safely in the hydraulic underground garage here on the property.” Edna opened a door off a long hallway leading to the kitchen and pulled a silver chain to turn on the light. “Michael will meet you in the basement,” she said, motioning for Aspen to step inside.
“You’re not coming with us?” Aspen asked.
“No, dear. This is my post. I man the fort.” Edna winked. “Just think of me as your personal bodyguard.”
Very funny, Aspen thought, questioning Tora’s leadership skills. The decision to post a little old lady as their most prominent line of defense was obviously a lapse in judgment. What was the plan here? Hug the bad guys until they surrendered?
When Aspen hesitated, Edna reached over to take her hand. A giant African elephant rose before her with tusks as long as the Hummers outside. She raised her long trunk and blasted Aspen with a ground-shaking trumpet, flapping her ears and swaying her massive head from side to side to show off her formidable size and strength.
She released Aspen’s hand and patted it between bony, arthritic fingers. “There’s nothing to worry about, dear,” she said, ushering Aspen down the basement steps before she had a chance to respond.
An unnaturally large man greeted her at the bottom of the stairs. Sporting a full beard, jeans, red plaid shirt, and suspenders, he looked like a lumberjack. “Welcome. Name’s Michael,” he said, his timbre deep and gritty. He extended a beefy paw to Aspen.
The minute she closed her hand around his, he disappeared. She looked around, but Michael was nowhere to be found. Oscar hadn’t said anything about Shrouds who could make themselves invisible. Dumbfounded, she was about to release her grip when a faint squeak from below caught her attention. There, on the basement floor, was a tiny brown field mouse. Balanced on hind legs, it gazed up at her with twitching whiskers and a cute pink nose.
Michael withdrew his hand from hers. “Everyone calls me Mouse.”
It took every ounce of willpower for Aspen to keep a straight face. She wondered if the rest of the group struggled to do the same as he made his way down the line with introductions.
She took the opportunity to scan the basement. It was pretty barren—save for some stacked logs, gardening tools, and a green storage bin marked Xmas Lights. She wondered where they were going from here. There didn’t appear to be a tunnel entrance anywhere in sight.
“Listen up,” Mouse bellowed from the other end of the line. “Before we descend into the tunnels, all of you will need to relinquish your weapons. They’ll be stored in the arsenal here at the sanctuary.” He picked up a wicker basket from the floor and made his way down the line once again.
Aspen raised an eyebrow when he reached Oscar, who simply smiled in compliance as he added his Glock to the pile. Shaking her head and against her better judgment, she did the same. But without the smile.
Mouse set the basket down and reached for a wooden support beam overhead. The wall of logs slowly slid aside to reveal a darkened tunnel entrance. He stepped in, lifted a lantern from a hook on the wall, and pointed to a basket of flashlights on the floor. “Help yourselves,” he said. “It’s a long walk and a lot less scary if you have one of those.”
Aspen withdrew the flashlight from her duty belt and switched it on. She couldn’t wait to get this uniform off and into more comfortable clothes.
Eyeing her rechargeable SureFire R1 Lawman with IntelliBeam, Oscar plucked a plastic Rayovac flashlight from the basket. “Trade?” he asked, holding his flashlight out with a look of hope.
She didn’t even dignify that with an answer. “When were these tunnels made?” she asked, jogging to catch up with Mouse as the others fell in place behind her.
“About thirty years ago. They’re made from precut steel tubes and then covered in a thick layer of rock. Nearly indestructible,” he said. “Doc Madigan built this place. Starting the sanctuary was his lifelong dream.”
“Tora’s father?”
Mouse nodded. “Best man I ever knew. Tora took over after a human got him. He was killed right in front of her. She was never the same after that. But she didn’t waste time feeling sorry for herself. She stepped up, kept this place running in his absence.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the rest of the group was keeping up. “Tora runs a pretty tight ship around here. A lot of people depend on her, and she’s never let us down. Her dad would be proud.”
She walked the rest of the way in silence, feeling like a giant jackass. No wonder Tora was so pensive when Oscar was brought back from the dead. Last night’s events had probably stirred up Tora’s memories of losing her own father. And Aspen had taken jackass to a whole new level by blaming Tora for Oscar’s death. She sighed. Even a truckload of Reese’s couldn’t make up for that.
They walked for miles. The tunnels seemed to go on forever. Aspen did her best to keep a ment
al road map, but it was no use. Too many twists and turns with left and right passageways from which to choose. She’d need a bloodhound to find her way back through this maze.
They finally came to a heavy steel door illuminated by a single torch set high in the tunnel wall. Aspen studied the door more closely. There was no doorknob, handle, keyhole, keypad, or security scanner in or around the formidable-looking door. How in the world would they open this thing?
Mouse set the lantern down and turned to them. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Aspen was just about to ask where the hell they would go when he shapeshifted and scurried inside a teeny tiny hole underneath the door. She had to hand it to them. Security was tight.
The sound of metal scraping against stone echoed through the tunnel as the steel door cranked ajar, inch by inch. Inside, there was a second door that slid open and disappeared into the rock wall. She had been looking for vulnerabilities since setting foot on the property. So far, this place seemed dauntingly impenetrable.
Mouse was restored to his lumberjack size on the other side of the threshold. He waved them in with a big smile. “Welcome to the sanctuary.”
Chapter Ten
Expecting quarters similar to the cramped conditions of the tunnel, Aspen’s jaw dropped as she stepped inside. A fifty-foot-high rounded rock ceiling towered above them. Exposed rock in natural hues of brown and gray comprised the walls, floors, and ceiling. There was a massive sofa in the shape of a circle built into the rock in the center of the room, invitingly cozy with more throw pillows than a department store. The sofa surrounded a huge gas fire pit, already ablaze and lending much-needed warmth to her fingers and toes.
“This is chamber one,” Mouse explained. “Bedrooms are off tunnel one.” He pointed to a tunnel behind him. “You’ve each been assigned a bedroom. Your name’s on the door, and your personal belongings are already inside.” He waved a hand in the air. “The rest of this chamber is easy to navigate. Take tunnel two for the kitchen, tunnel three for the library, tunnel four for the exercise room and indoor pool, tunnel five for the basketball and volleyball courts, tunnel six for the indoor track, and tunnel seven for the recreation room. The rec room has a bowling alley, arcade, air hockey, Ping-Pong, and pool tables.”
Everyone stood in awe. The accommodations were magnificent, to say the least.
Aspen checked her watch: 4:53 a.m. This place was eerily quiet. “Is everyone asleep?”
“Members of the sanctuary are in a different, much larger chamber,” Mouse replied. “You won’t have access to that chamber, or to the rest of the Shroud population, until we finish our background checks on all of you.”
“And how long does that take?” she asked, feeling antsy at the thought of being locked up for any amount of time, even if it was in the lap of luxury.
“About thirty days.”
Giving her the eye before she could incite a rebellion, Oscar stepped forward to address the group. “We’ve all had a long night,” he said, his voice commanding. “Let’s get some sleep. We’ll start fresh in the morning. Meet in the kitchen at ten hundred hours for breakfast.” He turned to Mouse, his expression momentarily frozen in worry. “Is there coffee here?”
Aspen held her breath. Oscar without coffee was a short road to hell.
Mouse nodded. “The kitchen’s fully stocked.”
Visibly relieved, Oscar sighed as he turned back to the group. “Any questions?”
Mrs. B raised her hand. “Bathrooms?”
“Each bedroom has its own private bath,” Mouse assured her. “I’ll be leaving now,” he said when the room fell silent. “If you need anything—anything at all—just pick up the phone in your bedroom. Someone will be on the other end to help you.”
He wasn’t kidding when he said Tora ran a tight ship. Was there anything they hadn’t thought of?
Still uneasy at the thought of being locked in an underground chamber, she was too tired to do anything but find a bed and get some shut-eye. She waited for Skye as the rest of the group wandered off to tunnel one.
The girl was busy gazing up at the ceiling. “Do you miss it?” Skye asked as Aspen approached.
She mentally skimmed through the list of what Skye could be referring to: miss being aboveground…miss being human…miss having a career in law enforcement…miss her friends, colleagues, life, and home in Boston. “Miss what?”
“The cake,” Skye said, taking her eyes from the ceiling to glance at the empty box Aspen was still clutching.
“I do,” she admitted sadly. “Best cake I ever had.”
There was a moment of silence in the lava cake’s honor.
“We can ask Helga to bake another one tomorrow,” Skye said at last, casting her eyes back to the ceiling.
Aspen watched her, thankful Skye accepted her for who she was, sugar addict and all. “What’s up?” She could tell there was something on the girl’s mind.
“This place is beautiful, and I’m grateful to be here with you and the others.” Skye hesitated. “But now that I’ve had a real taste of flying, I don’t know how I’ll go without it for a whole month. These ceilings are high. They’re just not high enough for me to go anywhere. Feels like I’m in a cage.”
The girl had a point. In a way, they were all in a cage.
“I’ll talk to Tora and try to work something out,” she said, draping an arm around the girl’s slender shoulders as they walked to tunnel one. “Maybe she’ll make an exception and give you some flying time at the surface.”
But a terrifying thought occurred to Aspen. What if they had just been captured and imprisoned here by the SEA without even realizing it?
* * *
Tora was glad to be back at the sanctuary. It had always felt like home to her. She’d spent the best years of her life here with her dad, planning the sanctuary’s layout, building it, perfecting it. Getting this place up and running was his lifelong dream. She felt grateful for the time she got to spend with him making that dream come true. She only wished he was still around to see the difference he was making in the lives of his people. Shrouds were safe here. That’s all he’d ever wanted.
She hopped inside the trolley, switched on the headlights, and sped through the maze of tunnels at top speed. She knew these rock tunnels inside and out, could navigate them with her eyes closed if she had to. She checked her watch: almost five a.m. No time to sleep. She had a lot to do in three hours.
She tried to remember the last time she’d slept. Was it two or three days ago? Shaking her head, she decided it didn’t matter. There were more important things to think about right now.
Part of her still couldn’t believe there was a Myriad here in the sanctuary. Granted, Tora wasn’t crazy about this particular Myriad. So far, her assessment of Aspen left much to be desired. She was a smart-mouthed cop who was undisciplined, impulsive, and full of herself. Tora had her work cut out for her for sure.
* * *
“Wake up!” Tora shouted.
Aspen sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. “Who died and made you my alarm clock?”
“I’ve been calling you on the intercom for five minutes.”
Aspen knew she was a heavy sleeper. She’d always thought of it as her eight hours of personal hibernation. She could fall sleep anywhere and sleep so deeply people often thought she was dead. “I locked the door. How’d you get in here?”
Tora held up a badge, looking all serious and annoyingly beautiful. “Get up.” She tossed a change of workout clothes on the bed.
Brand new purple-and-black Nikes were lined up neatly on the floor beside the bed. They looked to be her size. Did the doctor come in and measure her feet while she was sleeping? This was getting creepy. She checked her watch. “I’ve only been asleep for three hours. What’s the rush?”
“I told you last night. Your training starts this morning.”
“I accept your proposal to train me.” She sank back down to the pillow and threw an arm over her eyes to block out th
e overhead light. “After I get some sleep.”
There was a long silence. She felt Tora’s eyes drilling a hole in her head.
“You’re the first Myriad to come along in over a century. There are Shrouds being slaughtered by the SEA as we speak. The longer we wait to train you, the more of your people will die. You really want that on your conscience?”
So much for her theory about being captured by the SEA, though she might prefer that if it meant she could sleep a little longer. “You really know how to insert a little sunshine in someone’s day,” she said, swinging her bare legs over the side of the bed. Since she’d never had the chance to stop by her house and pack before leaving, she was still wearing the plain white T-shirt from under her uniform. “I’ll meet you in ten minutes. Out there,” she said, pointing to the hallway beyond her bedroom door. “Unless you think I should also give up all bathroom and personal hygiene habits for the cause.”
Seemingly satisfied, Tora went to the door and let herself out with her trusty break-in badge. What was it with that woman and badges?
Aspen brushed her teeth, showered, and dressed. She pulled her wet hair into a ponytail and laced up the new Nikes. A perfect fit. The black sports bra, gray running shorts, purple tank, and matching sweatshirt also fit her perfectly. Curious, she went to the dresser drawers and opened them. They were fully stocked with everything she needed in her size. Intrigued, she opened the closet doors. An entire wardrobe awaited her in her size and style of clothing. She hoped the same went for Skye in the adjacent room. They had both arrived here with only the clothes on their backs.
She stepped to the door and pushed the button on the side panel. The door slid open smoothly. Tora was standing in the hallway. “Here,” she said, handing Aspen a stainless-steel thermos and brown paper bag.
“Doughnuts?” Aspen could smell them a mile away. She reached into the bag and pulled out a chocolate-frosted doughnut with sprinkles. “I take back everything bad I thought about you this morning,” she said, taking an inhumanly large bite.