by S. S. Segran
Paul exhaled slowly. “I’m curious. What are you three doing so far from home? Why are you in New Zealand, of all places?”
Deverell started to speak, but Mariah, making a split-second decision, cut in. “Our friend is missing. We think he might be here.”
Both Kody and Deverell jolted. She returned their panicked stares firmly and continued. “It’s a really long story, but we’re sure he was kidnapped by the people who are behind the disease and the crop failures. We’ve been trying to stop them, but they’ve been hunting us down. They grabbed our friend when he was recovering from an injury a month ago. When we found the cure, they tried to take it from us but we managed to get it to the CDC. Now our priority is finding our friend.”
Paul regarded her first with surprise, then disbelief, and finally absolute bafflement. “What?”
Kody fumbled to find words. “She—we’re not—”
Mariah removed the Dema-Ki necklace hanging around her neck and held it in her open palm, willing it to rise and hover in the air. Paul tilted his head as he beheld the sight, eyes widening in wonder. Then, with some effort, he slid off the couch and sat before her, the necklace between them. Mariah guided it closer to him. He didn’t make a move to grab it, but he did tap it with a wary finger. It jiggled for a moment before righting itself.
“How?” he rasped.
Mariah returned the necklace to her hand and slipped it back on. “My friends and I have different abilities. We only discovered them last year. I can’t really answer the how, but we’ve been told it has something to do with an evolutionary leap.”
“Told? By who?”
“By those who made that leap a long time ago. They trained us. They’re kind of secretive about . . . well, a lot of things. But we’re doing everything we can to stop the people who are trying to destroy the world.”
Paul seemed dazed. Mariah suddenly felt bad, wondering if she’d made a misstep. It probably would have been too much for anyone to take in, what more a man whose brain was affected by unnaturally rapid aging.
Deverell helped Paul back onto the couch, then grabbed a quilt hanging from the backrest and laid it over the man’s lap. The Sentry cast a quizzical glance at Mariah but didn’t appear to be angry or annoyed. She wasn’t entirely certain what had come over her, but a nudge in her gut had told her that it might help to share some hope with a man this close to death’s door. She’d been desperate to give him something to ease the weight he carried and jumped at the first thought that had sprung up.
Paul scratched his eyebrow and blinked a few times. “I wish I had the energy to ask you more about this, to learn more, but I’m afraid this disease has sapped me of too much. If you could, though, please tell me this is real and not my mind playing old man tricks on me. Please tell me there is a chance to stop this . . . this evil, so that no more people will suffer.”
“It’s real,” Mariah answered, putting all of her convictions and hopes in those two words.
Paul sank deeper into the couch, and she swore she caught a small smile flickering past his lips.
They kept him company through the night. Not much was spoken, but Paul would meet each of their gazes with warmth and a spark of newfound brightness, though the deep-set grief never washed away. He would drift in and out of sleep, and his breaths were sometimes short and choppy, other times shallow and barely there.
Kody joined Mariah on the floor and they leaned against each other in the dark living room, trying to stay awake as they kept an eye on Paul across from them. Deverell, seated beside the man, would often turn to study the moonlit expanse outside the window. Wind raced through the blades of grass on the lawn, and in the distance, waves lapped onto the sandy shore.
At some point after three in the morning, Mariah fell asleep with her head on Kody’s shoulder. Her dreams were confusing and tangled and unpleasant, but she wouldn’t be able to recall them afterward.
A warm touch on her arm roused her. She looked up blearily at Deverell. His face was gaunt as he pointed with a finger to where Kody crouched in front of Paul, holding his hand. Paul was still fast asleep, though in the first rays of the morning light he seemed paler, grayer than she remembered.
And then she realized.
She wanted to move, to join Kody, but it was as if she were locked in place. Her chin trembled. Deverell, his hand still on her arm, gave a light squeeze.
They buried Paul by the beach, beside three graves already there. Mariah ran her fingers over the names incised into the wooden crosses: Charlotte, Abigail, and Flynn.
Behind her, the wind had turned into a gale that had the waves hitting the shore in a feverish rhythm. She hunched against the cold as the sun started to detach itself from the horizon, feeling hollow as they said their goodbyes to Paul. She’d found a photo in his bedroom—the one he’d described, with his wife and children painted indigo by the evening sun—and placed it over his chest before they’d laid him to rest.
No more pain, she thought as they climbed back up the knoll and headed to their car. You’re with family now. Take it easy, Paul. And if you don’t mind, please keep watch over us. We need all the help we can get.
Tegan, Aari, and Victor lay hidden in the fringes of the rainforest overlooking an oil refinery site. Steam escaped the tall towers, beside which stood numerous petroleum storage tanks and distillation units. Pipelines led in and out of the refinery area like branching exoskeletons.
A sleek black chopper rested atop a helipad near what appeared to be an administrative building on the eastern side of the facility. Although there was a minimal operating crew, the grounds were crawling with armed security personnel.
“They must have detected a breach at another Sanctuary,” Tegan said.
“Question is, who tripped the alarm?” Aari asked.
“Don’t think it matters right now.”
“We need to find a way in,” Victor muttered, fingers splayed over the lower half of his stubbled face as he studied the site. Beside him, Chief sat stock-still, watching the activity just as intently. Tegan found it funny how much the two resembled each other, though Chief was undoubtedly the sunnier of the pair.
“There’s absolutely no chance all three of us will get in,” Aari said. “I can probably cover you both, but once you’re inside, I won’t have line of sight. You’ll be on your own.”
“And judging by how alert they look out here, there’s no reason not to think they wouldn’t be the same below,” Tegan added. “Which means I’m gonna have to find a little friend to be our eyes and ears. I can scout out the Sanctuary. If Jag’s down there, Victor and I will head in. What teensy animals are around here?”
Aari looked behind them at the vast vegetation. The jungle was thick with the scent of earth, animal musk, and an assortment of plants. “There are a few species of small monkeys, if you’d like?”
“Monkeys are too conspicuous,” Victor said. “But you’ve taken over insects before.”
Tegan patted down a few stray hairs that had escaped her high bun. Sweat coated the back of her neck and ran down her spine, which was severely uncomfortable. “Insects are stupidly hard to get used to, mainly because how they see things and how they fly are all so different from each other. At least with most animals, there’s four legs, two eyes and a tail. Similar mechanics, easier to acclimatize. Never mind, leave it to me.”
Settling down, she closed her eyes and opened her mind to the higher plane of existence permeating the physical one. She prodded around gently, searching for homogenous presences she was already accustomed to. A catalog of various animals appeared in her mind. Some appeared brighter—those she had mindlinked with previously and knew how to seek out. It didn’t take long to find one of them.
Aari’s voice wafted into her ears. “You found something?”
“How could you tell?”
“You’ve got a goofy smile on your face.”
Tegan realized he was right and recomposed herself before bringing her creature into sight. Through its eyes n
ear ground level, she saw Chief snap toward the newcomer like a heat-seeking missile.
Victor grabbed the wolfdog by the collar. “A squirrel? Really?”
Tegan opened her eyes and picked up the soft, reddish animal. It was barely longer than her hand. “Can’t find anything smaller around here.” She stroked its head and had the odd sensation of someone stroking hers. “This is the cutest squirrel I have ever seen. What are you?”
“Amazon dwarf squirrel,” Aari said immediately, dropping low to observe it. Perspiration from his forehead caught on his thick eyebrows. “Wow, it really is cute. And I don’t use that word lightly. Pretty chubby, aren’t you, little guy?”
Victor exhaled, a rough sound that rumbled in his throat. “If you’re done.”
Tegan placed the creature back on the ground. “Alright, it’s you and me, buddy. Let’s go.”
The squirrel lifted its head, nose twitching, and took off toward the refinery with astounding speed. It weaved under pipes, staying out of the workers’ view. From its minimal elevation, Tegan had a great perspective of dirt and people’s boots. She picked up the strong odor of gasoline and some sulfuric stench wafting from the processing plant. It was a grotesque assault on the olfactory but she had no choice other than to wade through it.
If I were a Sanctuary entrance, she thought, where would I be?
She roamed the giant site, now made bigger through the squirrel’s eyes. Her mind wandered over to the helicopter. Who flies such a sleek-looking thing to a place like this? Is Dr. Nate here?
The squirrel scampered across a road, hopped onto the helipad, and sniffed around. The human scent from the aircraft was still fresh. Tegan breathed in deeply, committed it to memory, then went on a hunt. The trail led her back in the direction she’d come from, then took a detour past several indefinable buildings toward a small makeshift parking lot. From there, it headed straight for a nondescript door seemingly half-buried in the ground.
Taking a few steps toward the entrance, Tegan sized up her obstacle. It was a plain wooden door without any security measures attached except for a simple lever-type handle. She leapt onto the handle and, hooking around it with both front legs, maneuvered to dangle off it. The squirrel wiggled its rump, exerting as much downward force as it could. The door opened inward just a fraction but that was enough. She dropped back onto the dirt and nudged it open an inch more to wriggle in.
This is more like it, she thought, taking in her surroundings. Another door loomed in front of her, this one with a biometric scanner. She sat the squirrel in a dark corner of the four-by-six room, waiting for someone to enter or exit. It was a test of patience but she knew how to bide her time.
“How’s it going?” she heard Aari ask.
She cracked open an eye. “I might be onto something, but I’ve got nowhere to go until that door opens.”
“Should’ve brought a pack of cards. My poker skills are rusting.”
“And some sugar cubes to bet with.”
“When we get the gang back together, we’re definitely gonna play a round or two.”
Tegan liked that. He said “when,” not “if.” There’s still hope in our reserve.
It was a long, boring half hour until someone finally stepped out of the secure door. She waited for the woman to walk past, then darted through the gap before the door shut. They must have a couple of entrances at least. With all the construction work needed to build a Sanctuary, there has got to be access for trucks and equipment.
The Sanctuary’s layout mirrored the one in New Mexico: aquaponic facilities, dormitories, a workshop and an assortment of other buildings. The cavern was well-equipped for any devastation aboveground.
Tegan picked up the scent she had memorized from the helicopter and followed it through the Sanctuary. Youths of every race in different colored uniforms went about their tasks in a relaxed but professional manner. Some had clipboards they used to check things off as they inspected the buildings. Others stood in groups, conversing and laughing. In one corner, a few teenagers whooped as two of their colleagues partook in a goofy, lighthearted dance-off.
Tegan watched them for a moment, taking it all in with detached curiosity, and continued to follow the scent. It led her past what she now recognized as a Marauder enclosure, toward the administrative building tucked at the back of the cavern. A handful of people in business attire flowed in and out of the entrance, making it easy for her to slip in. She travelled down a dimly-lit corridor and turned left into another long hallway with doors on either side.
At last, she came to a stop in front of a door with a brass plaque attached to it. She read the Portuguese inscription, then asked out loud, “Hey, what does Escritório do Chefe de Santuário mean?”
“Office of the Chief of Sanctuary, I think,” Victor answered. His wolfdog exhaled sharply. “No, not you, Chief.”
“Head of Sanctuary, then. Perfect.”
Harried footsteps shook the ground beneath the squirrel’s paws. Tegan panicked; there was nowhere to hide. She pressed the creature against the wall by the door, praying she wouldn’t be seen.
A SONE appeared, carrying a tray with two beverages in fancy glasses and some food. He was completely focused on keeping his hands steady as the drinks wobbled. He marched right by the squirrel without noticing it and knocked once before being summoned by a voice inside the room. He opened the door wide and entered. Tegan peeked in.
The office was decorated simply, with ceiling lights, a large fern in one corner, and a desk at the far end with an expensive monitor. In the center was a round table. Two people sat across from each other, their profiles facing the door. The man on the left wore an immaculate gray suit and a perfectly-trimmed Van Dyke beard. He was perhaps in his mid-forties with tanned, chiseled features and black hair.
Her view of the person on the right was blocked by the SONE. As the youth bowed and turned to leave, Tegan darted back to her spot. The door started to swing shut as he strode away but didn’t fully close. Tegan nudged it open ever so slightly and poked the squirrel’s snout through.
There, sitting on the right side of the round table, was a figure in a long black coat with a gold hood pulled low over its head.
Tegan nearly fumbled her grip on the mindlink. “Reyor’s here,” she breathed. “In the flesh.”
“Don’t need to tell you to be careful.” Victor didn’t seem surprised by the news. Tegan made a mental note of it and returned her attention to the room.
“I want to congratulate you and your team for a job well done with the completion of this Sanctuary,” Reyor said, the voice deep and distorted by a modulator. “You finished in a timely fashion with minimal setbacks.”
The bearded man inclined his head. “Obrigado.”
“Now that everything is in place, you must steel yourself for the final wave. It is fast approaching, and I know of at least one member in the Inner Circle who has had a difficult time with this. I do not blame them, but such weakness cannot be allowed to persist. Do you understand?”
“I do, but you don’t need to worry. I, like many others, have been waiting eagerly for our plans to come to a fruitful conclusion.”
“I am heartened to hear that.”
They each sipped their drinks, allowing for a natural pause in the conversation. Tegan couldn’t take her eyes off Reyor, off the monster that had unleashed so much pain and suffering and death upon the world.
We’ll put an end to you, one way or another, she promised silently.
The man set down his glass. “Adrian told to me yesterday that the new creatures are something to be reckoned with.”
“He’s not wrong. They’re smaller than the Marauders which makes them quicker and more agile—and nastier with an insatiable appetite. Along with the Camazotz, they’ll do a good job as the cleanup crew.”
Tegan blinked. What is this maniac talking about? And what’s a Camazotz?
“All of this once seemed like a faraway dream, yet here we are now.” The man’
s words were thick with emotion. “None of this would have happened without your vision.”
Reyor chuckled for only a moment. The distorted noise seemed to frighten the Head of Sanctuary. “If you want to cleanse the world, you must first devise the capability and means. We have many dedicated people in the Ventures.”
“That’s true. What a shame that the mind behind some of the biggest biotech projects seen on the face of the Earth decided to have a change of heart at the last minute.”
The tendons in Reyor’s hands flexed. “Dr. Deol, yes.”
“That was a difficult day. She was brilliant, and an all-around wonderful woman. Is there any news on the whereabouts of her daughter?”
“No, but at this point a missing six-year-old is of little concern to us.”
The man pressed his dark beard down with a hand. “I hope I don’t sound . . . what is it called . . . brash? You never completely disclosed to the Heads of Sanctuaries about what exactly is to come after the—”
Reyor raised a hand and Tegan detected a change in the air, as though something unseen had shifted in the space. Then, calmly, the hooded figure said, “Gustavo, would you mind turning away and facing the corner?”
Bemused, the man did as he was told, swiveling his chair around without hesitation.
Reyor took another sip of the drink, then slowly looked toward the door. Tegan’s blood ran cold. Reyor’s free hand shot out and suddenly the squirrel was pulled through the opening by an invisible force. Strong fingers wrapped around the creature and Tegan was held up to the hidden face.
“Hello, Ms. Ryder,” Reyor murmured, teeth flashing in a rageful smile from the void of the hood. “If you’re wondering, no, your friend isn’t here. I’m not reckless.”
Tegan yelped and severed her mindlink; as she did, she heard Reyor address the Head of Sanctuary. “We have intruders on site. Get security to flush them out.”
Outside in the rainforest, Tegan choked out a gasp. “We need to go. Right now.”
Aari reached for her. “Whoa, what happened?”
“Reyor knows we’re here. We have to leave before—”
