Seconds to Sunrise

by Nico Rosso

  She dropped the volume on the TV as the night deepened. The light conversation was murmured across the room. Her body needed a continuation of the growing intimacy. His weight on the bed would draw her toward him. His chest on her back would slow her breathing, and his arms around her would give her a moment of security.

  She got up from the bed and used the bathroom, splashed water on her face. When she returned, he was standing by the bedside lamp.

  “Can you take first watch? Three hours is all I need.” He didn’t seem tired at all.

  “Of course.” She was careful not to brush against him as they switched places in the room. He came and went from the bathroom, then settled onto the bed, still fully armed.

  He turned out the light, leaving her with only the glow of her laptop. She’d learned more of James and wished she hadn’t. She tempted herself with additional information, searching the internet for his name and Automatik. He had a file on her; what did she have? Personal details, fragments that revealed him. His caring and determination. His shadows. The internet didn’t return any answers. The lack of information revealed more than any hard facts could. He and his organization were a deep secret.

  This was how she’d saved herself. In the dark, with the computer. But it was all different now. Outsiders threatened her. For the first time since Mark’s death, she sat in a room with a sleeping man. A man who trusted her. But she didn’t trust herself. She didn’t know herself anymore.

  Chapter Eight

  He’d been awake for hours, showered, packed their kit all into her carry-on bag, secured his weapons and checked himself and April out of the motel, and still he heard her smoky voice as she’d wakened him for his shift of the watch.

  “James.” She’d repeated, “James.” It continued to echo. She’d been a lithe ghost in the ashen light of the motel room. Her hand had been real on his shoulder, gently pressing until he was awake.

  He’d almost put his hand on hers, pulled her closer. But that would’ve just been selfish. What she really needed from him was his tactical abilities and a swift resolution to the operation. They’d switched places, her on the bed and him at the table, and that was how he’d spent the small hours of the night and into the morning.

  They now sat in a diner staring at glossy menus filled with overstuffed foods. He’d eaten in this chain before and hoped the breakfast would at least be consistent, if not good. April shook her head, unsure of anything except the coffee she ordered immediately after sitting down. Her hair remained damp from her shower. He could smell the motel’s shampoo and remembered how he’d busied himself looking out the edge of the drawn curtains rather than watch her finish getting dressed and prepare for the day.

  “At least it’s hot food.” He settled on the simplest-looking combination and folded his laminated menu.

  “I think we’d tried everything out of the vending machine.” Her wry smile flickered off quickly. He knew she’d slept, but the day hiding out in the room and plotting their next move had taken a toll on her. She blinked weary eyes at the menu. An outsider might’ve thought she was tired from a motel tryst. Making love and raiding the junk food.

  James had almost seduced himself in the process yesterday. Nearly believing the intimacy that had grown from the time spent together had skewed him. He’d wanted to take her hand when she’d woken him. He now wanted to lean close to her neck, breathe her in and feel as clean as she smelled.

  “Hopefully we’re past that necessity.” They didn’t have a clear idea what would happen at the Phoenix target, but it might get them a step closer to the hackers.

  She spoke privately across the table. “Not that I approve of the circumstances, but it’s good to get out of my comfort zone.”

  “As long as we don’t push you too far.” He glanced at the door and the diners around them. None of the people were targeting, or tracking James and April’s activity. The hunters weren’t in this room full of travelers.

  She picked up on his caution and did her own scan of the population within her field of vision. When she was done, she gave James a little head shake to indicate she didn’t sense trouble. He knew she didn’t know all the signs to identify, but trusted her instinct for self-preservation.

  The waitress came by with coffee, took their order, then left them alone to doctor their drinks. He paid more attention to the ominous clouds hulking in the sky than he did to whatever was in his mug.

  “Is that weather going to be trouble?” He’d spent some of the night studying maps online to familiarize himself with the territory, but he’d never have the sense of a local.

  She drank coffee then craned her neck to look out the windows. “Looks bad. Definitely rain.”

  “Can we make it through?” The coming storm seemed so extensive that there’d be no way to skirt around it without traveling to a different continent.

  She shrugged. “It’ll test us. You got all-wheel drive?”

  “Affirmative.” One of the necessities of the clean car. He mentally prepared himself for not only driving half a day, but battling the weather throughout.

  “The coffee’s actually not that bad.” She smiled over the rim of her cup and continued to drink. With each sip, she woke up further. He’d hoped the light of day would blaze away the veiled intimacy that had been drifting between them. But the familiarity continued, and he found himself noting how she took her coffee when it wasn’t her standard latte.

  “Don’t jinx the food.”

  “I’m sure the cook’s doing that right now.” She took out her phone and fiddled with it a moment before putting it down on the table. “Still nothing.” She’d set up a relay to notify her if anything came through her anonymous phishing attempt.

  For all the technology at play, this mission was still going to come down to knocking on doors or kicking down doors.

  Breakfast arrived, and they both ate hungrily. They exchanged conversation about the middling quality of the fare between bites. He explained that they needed fuel for the car after fueling themselves, then the road beckoned.

  She was game, with more fire for the chase than fear in her eyes. He knew he needed to conserve his energy for the road ahead, but still his pulse moved faster. Ready. And excited by being on the hunt with April.

  * * *

  “These storms are trouble.” April tracked a radar map on her phone as the muted desert sped by. “They’re rolling out of the west, right at us.”

  James drove with the same pace, just on the edge of reckless, determination on his face. “No choice but to go through.” They’d already been slowed down by traffic and highway construction through Albuquerque.

  Rocky hills rose up to meet the low clouds. Occasional dirt roads jutted into the wastelands, but there were no signs of human life out there. There were barely any other cars on the highway. Everyone else was smart enough to stay away. And that made her what?

  On a mission. Way off the map. With a man she barely knew and knew too much.

  He tugged an earbud out of his jacket and put it in before clicking the mic on the cord. “Go for James.”

  Her breath struggled through a tense chest. He wasn’t sighing with relief or smiling, so they weren’t contacting him with good news. She mouthed, Bad? and he held up a hand to pause her.

  He murmured into the mic, “Understood,” and glanced at her.

  Frustration burned. She balled a fist.

  James finally clicked off his call and looked at her hand. “You going to use that on me?”

  “I hate not knowing.”

  “I understand.” He fought a dry smile.

  “So what the fuck is it?” If the man wasn’t as hard as oak, she’d consider punching him in the shoulder so he knew she meant business.

  “Someone was prying into Automatik last night.” The smile faded. He kept his eye
s on the road. “Deep, anonymous, internet searches. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

  Her breath loosened but turned hot with embarrassment. “I couldn’t turn anything up. Not even a rumor.”

  “Our enemies don’t know our name.” He looked to her, gaze softer. “Our friends don’t use our name out in the open.”

  “I would never...”

  “I know.”

  “I was just looking for some context.” At times, the whole situation still felt like an elaborate fiction she’d been dropped into. “I’m out here with you...” Her mouth went dry as she remembered her other searches from last night.

  He knew. “Did you find anything on me?” Even though he’d caught her, he seemed cautious.

  “Not a trace.” It was unnatural. “Not a scrap of internet DNA.”

  He appeared to breathe easier. “I told you, we’re invisible.”

  “No military record or property ownership or car registration.” She’d tried all the avenues she’d known. “It’s like you don’t exist at all.”

  “I started existing the day you nearly punched your keys through me in that alley.”

  She couldn’t hold back a laugh as she saw all the experience he carried behind his eyes. “I doubt that.”

  He didn’t laugh. “Let’s just agree that eras in my record aren’t fit for public viewing.” A wince of what looked like pain creased his brow. His mouth tightened, as if holding back more he wanted to say.

  Could she draw it out of him? “You know me well enough to understand I don’t agree to anything easily.”

  “That I do.” But he made no change to indicate he was about to open up.

  “You can’t blame me for looking.” Asking him directly wouldn’t work.

  “I’m glad you did.” He loosened up enough to glance at her. “It’s not smart to trust me without question.”

  “But I still don’t have enough information.” What she did know continued to move her closer to him.

  “Then you shouldn’t completely trust me.” He shut down again. “Just know I’ll carry this mission on until the end.”

  “Alright.” Pushing too hard would only raise his defenses. She’d seen how expertly he could fight. “I learned from my forum, as we talked, we healed.”

  He carried a burden alone. Thick anger, like a blood clot, deepened his voice. “You, the others, deserve to heal.”

  Sadness tore into her chest. She wanted to reach out to him. “You don’t?” But he was so far away.

  “Find us some music, will you?” He stared straight ahead, down the highway, into the coming storm.

  She turned on the radio and spun through the stations. Whatever James locked up, it was behind his iron will. Rain splashed against the windshield, pounded on the hood and roof. She chilled, wondering how terrible that part of his past was to be so hidden.

  He plowed them further into the weather. Wind shouldered into the sides of the car and took them to the side of the lane before James forced the path back to the middle. She skipped through stations full of static and settled on pop music. Neither of them paid much attention. The storm was louder. James’s silence rang in her ears.

  Her phone buzzed with an alert. She felt James’s attention on her as she checked the notification. “It’s an email,” she announced, disappointed. “Nothing from my phishing.”

  “Brilliant.” Both his hands remained tight on the steering wheel as the storm grew stronger around the car.

  Her letdown at the false alarm burned away in a rush of acid through her stomach. The subject of the email was Albuquerque. “Oh, fuck.” She opened the message.

  James tore his attention from the road to look at her. “What is it? What?”

  “It’s from the hackers.” She felt the attack in the parking lot again, as if the man was pressing against her and she couldn’t escape.

  “Bloody hell.” He showed his teeth in anger.

  She fought a shaky voice and read, “Albuquerque was cute, but you can’t cut our power. You should’ve stayed home. Whoever is helping you will hurt you. We can touch you whenever we want. Stop now and you will live.”

  He ground out, “Bastards.”

  “There’s no signature. The sender address is just a jumble.” She dug into the email’s code but only found generic details. “They covered their tracks.”

  Hail chattered against the car and collected in the corners of the windshield.

  His voice rasped with restrained rage. “It’s not a deal they’d honor.”

  “They’re just trying to scare me off, right?” She was already scared but wasn’t ready to change course.

  “Like we did to them. They’re sending a charge through you, see if you make a mistake.”

  “So we got to them.” The small victory chased some of the locked dread in her joints.

  “Blood’s been spilled. Things can only escalate.” The muscles of his neck flexed. “They won’t back off.”

  “Neither will we.” She fed off James’s determination.

  “We stay cool and let them burn themselves out.” He battled against a crosswind that nearly sent the car skidding off the highway. Visibility was down to only a hundred yards. Everything else was smears of hostile black and gray. She braced her feet on the floor, as if she could keep the car steady. A cold sweat spread across her back.

  The radio cut out to static.

  She checked her phone. “No signal.”

  He pulled his out and swiped over the screen. “Aces.” The phone dropped to his lap when he had to handle the steering wheel with both hands. “We shouldn’t travel through this.” Sheets of thick rain looked like high sea waves in the powerful wind.

  “Take us to the shoulder.” There was at least twenty yards of open ground between the interstate and a boundary fence.

  He grunted disapproval. “Find us a road off. If I park too close to the highway, we could get wiped out by an errant tractor trailer.”

  She peered through the swirling storm and tried to draw distinctions between the asphalt, sky, desert and rivulets of water that rushed across the windows. “Coming up.” He slowed, and details emerged. “Before that overpass.”

  “On the far side of that sign?” The storm hit harder.

  “Yeah.” She checked behind them to make sure no one would rush up as they eased off the highway, but everyone else had already taken shelter from the weather.

  The car bounced when they hit the shoulder. James counter steered as they skidded in the gravel, then engaged the all-wheel drive. With more grip, the car lurched and bounded through a ditch. Mud sprayed up and joined the clatter of the rain and hail. James steered them past a highway marker and to a gap in the fence. A dirt road angled steeply down and away from the highway.

  James warned, “Secure yourself,” and plowed the car down into a culvert. The tires struggled through sandier soil. The car bounced from side to side, slamming her against the inside of the door. Her shoulder blazed with pain from the impact. She tightened herself against more blows, which came as James took them toward the far bank. Runoff carved ruts that jolted the car. “You good?” he asked tightly as he struggled to keep them moving.

  “Exactly where I want to be.” She spoke between strained breaths as she fought to stay in her seat. “In a ditch in a storm right before a desert flash flood washes me away.”

  “Cheeky bird.” He managed a wild smile in the chaos. Pulling the wheel to one side, he gunned the engine and lurched them to more solid ground. He snaked from side to side until they were up the other side of the wash.

  But they weren’t on the road, so he had to keep them bouncing over rocky desert for a few yards. She stopped clenching her jaw once they reached the packed dirt trail. They followed it up and away from the highway and the wash. Ja
gged hills emerged from the low clouds.

  James drove the car higher toward them. “We’ll shelter there.”

  The stone was streaked dark with rain and looked as sharp as knife edges. “Cozy.”

  “You’d prefer the flooded ditch?” He leaned forward to see the road through the continuing rain.

  “That hotel in Albuquerque was nice.” She didn’t even know where to buy towels as plush as the ones they had.

  “Wasn’t it?” he mused. “And a good dinner.”

  The warm lights had lined his face with gold as she’d learned more of him that first night. “Good company.”

  He glanced at her. The dim storm light carved him into obscure planes like the hills around them. Except for the electric glimmer in his eyes that inspired a quick spark to tumble down through her. “Always makes the meal.”

  The road flattened between two outcroppings. He turned the car until it faced the road they’d just come up. Then he backed up so they were off the path, with their rear approach protected by the jutting rocks. He brought the car to a stop, killed the lights and the engine. The rain pounded all around them.

  Could he hear her voice above the din? “Like the junk food.”

  If he did, it didn’t change his expression. He pulled the emergency brake tight, double-checked it and unfastened his seat belt. His face moved close to hers, but he was just assessing their surroundings. She moved back and let him work. That was what this was. Work. She repeated it like a mantra to remind herself of the real circumstances, not the imagined connection between them. To ice herself further, she thought about why this mission had started. The purpose of her website. The loss she’d hoped to heal.

  “There goes your flood.” James pointed down the hill. A wide swath of water and debris pushed along the wash they’d crossed. The turmoil tumbled under the highway, making it look like the river had been flowing for hundreds of years.