Isolation (Shadowmark Book 3)

by Alex Bratton

  “They’re not the enemy, Lincoln. When did you become so disagreeable?”

  “When they started holding me prisoner.”

  “You’re hardly in a prison, and it was before that. Something’s been bothering you since we got here. Normally, you’re the one who smooths things over, but Carter and I have been doing that. Why do you want to argue with Nash at every turn?”

  “Everything about his operation’s been screwed up from the beginning. It was all a mistake.”

  “So what you’re saying is you made a mistake in coming here, and you’re blaming everybody else.”

  Lincoln frowned. “Ouch.”

  “Look, I’m not happy about any of it, either, but have you thought about where you would be if you hadn’t come here? Probably dead.”

  “Yes.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  Stubborn red embers cast their glow on Alvarez’s face. Lincoln glanced at her hair again. Mina used to wear her hair like that as a teenager. She’d grown tired of wrestling the endless curls into something manageable. A pang shot through Lincoln’s chest, and he looked at his feet. A pencil lay in the dust near the fire pit. He picked it up and brushed it off. The tip had been whittled with a knife, the eraser torn out.

  “Lincoln?”

  “I put her on that plane to the States,” he said quietly. “What if she’d stayed in England and survived? What if I’d sent her word to hide? We knew the towers were alien. I should’ve told her.”

  “You did the best you could at the time.”

  “Yeah, maybe, but I can’t help feeling my best wasn’t good enough.”

  He bent the pencil in his hands. It was springy. He put more pressure on the wood. How far would it bend before it broke?

  “We all feel that way, Lincoln, especially here.” Alvarez put a hand on his and stopped him from destroying the pencil. He released it to her, and she squeezed his arm before saying, “Schmidt told me Nash is planning to send out recon teams. They’re prepping tomorrow.”

  “Is he giving up on the silo?”

  “No. Nash is keeping a core group here, including Baker and Schmidt, to assist us in any way they can. I think he’s eager to find out more about what’s going on. Now that the refugees are gone, more soldiers are freed up to run recon. They’re starting with small missions at first. The first groups will be gone two weeks. A week out and a week back.”

  “I guarantee you some of them won’t return.”

  Alvarez let go of Lincoln’s arm. “Try to get along with Nash and Baker, okay?”

  Feeling like a scolded child, Lincoln sighed. “Okay.”

  Chapter Seven

  Morning dawned clear but scarcely warmer. Mina sat on the porch with a blanket wrapped around her. Doyle was securing the deer meat from yesterday. When she saw him suddenly bounding up the stairs three at a time, the familiar feeling of dread sank into her stomach.

  “We have to go,” he said, opening the door.

  Mina followed him inside. “What happened?”

  He gathered gear from around the cabin, stuffing it in bags. Mina hurried to help him.

  “What is it?” she asked again as she rolled up her blanket.

  Doyle’s face was grim. “Glyphs.” He reached under the bunks to pull out a second rifle then opened the closet for a box of cartridges.

  Terror crept through Mina’s limbs. Her hands shook. “How do you know?”

  Doyle tossed Mina’s bag to her, and she almost fell over trying to catch it. “I saw them. We’ve got to get out of here. Now.” He stood with his hand on the door.

  “Okay, just give me a second.”

  Dazed and fearful, Mina thought of everything they needed to do before leaving. The cabinets were still full of food. The first aid kit was under the sink.

  Doyle turned around so quickly she dropped her bag. He strode over to her and stopped inches from her face.

  “Have you ever seen them?” he hissed.

  “What?”

  “The Glyphs! You know, the giant things from out of the sky! Have you seen them up close?”

  “Yes, you know I have!”

  “And have you seen what they can do?”

  “Yes!”

  “Well, so have I. I’ve been closer than you could even imagine. I have also seen how they travel. If you have truly seen them, you know they won’t stop for innocent travelers. They will not move aside for us to reach safety. They kill everyone in their path. That’s all they know how to do.”

  Doyle looked straight into Mina’s eyes. She gazed back, but there was no emotion or feeling there for her to read, nothing but calm, dark depths despite the passion in his words.

  She nodded and picked up her backpack, the weight of it sinking her shoulders. Doyle thrust the second rifle into her hands and bolted down the stairs into the trees. Mina slung the gun over one shoulder and followed without glancing back.

  They hiked a few minutes in silence, Doyle walking ahead of Mina. As soon as they reached the ridge line, Doyle held up his hand, a signal for her to stop.

  “What is it?”

  Doyle put a finger to his lips and crouched behind a small tree. Mina also crouched but continued to climb as quietly as she could toward him, up the last few feet of the mountain. Doyle motioned for her to stay back, but she lay down on her stomach next to him, craning her neck to see below.

  Thick trees grew over a steep drop. Below them, three people stood talking on a small bare ledge. They carried backpacks, the two men did, at least. The woman who stood among them had only a rifle. Mina couldn’t be sure, but the woman had what looked like a long hunting knife and a handgun on her belt. She wore dark pants, a tank top, and thick military-style boots. In spite of the cold air, she’d tied a jacket around her waist. They all looked like active military types. The woman had a tall, powerful figure, straight brown hair tied up in a slick ponytail. Some kind of faint tattoo showed on the tops of her shoulders and upper chest, on the skin exposed by her tank.

  A third man approached from below and spoke to her. Curious, Mina strained to listen.

  On a bare ledge on the mountainside, Calla rounded on her men as she pulled out the knife. It flashed in the momentary sunlight. “What do you mean he reported the camp?”

  “I mean Williams is one step ahead of us. He turns in the camp. He gets the credit.”

  “And you did nothing to stop him!”

  “I was here where you summoned me! Remember?” Despite his defiant tone, the hybrid carefully regarded the knife in Calla’s hand.

  “I want those rogues! They will scatter at the first sign of the Condarri!”

  Then Calla felt it—her own summons from their masters. She would have to act fast to get inside the camp before the burn started, or she would lose all of them.

  “Bring Williams to me,” she commanded.

  The three took off into the woods without glancing back at Calla, her wrath chasing silently after them. She had one hope of turning this situation around, but she had to face the Condarri first.

  Disgusted and angry, Calla reached out to Dar Ceylin. She needed his help after all.

  Mina hadn’t heard it, but whatever the third man said had made the woman draw her knife and raise her voice in anger. The men quickly scattered into the trees, leaving the woman on her own. Doyle, who had lain down beside Mina, pulled her back, away from the ridge.

  “Who do you think they are?” Mina whispered.

  Doyle shook his head, motioning for Mina to ease back the way they had come. Once it was safe to stand again, he led her in a new direction, along and just below the ridge, the only option they had for now. The treacherous footing slowed Mina down. They climbed more than hiked, and Doyle, who had longer legs, had to help Mina up the rocks more than once.

  By nightfall, they had crossed through a valley and over another ridge. The undergrowth had thickened as summer approached, and fresh scratches covered Mina’s arms and face. They said little during their flight from the
cabin, and Mina used the time to think about what Doyle had said about seeing the Glyphs up close. What had happened to him?

  When they stopped for the night, Mina slumped on a rock, her legs like jelly. Doyle remained on edge, insisting they not light a fire. They huddled under the thick cover of a young tree, crickets singing all around them. Doyle sat next to her.

  “You’re wrong about the Glyphs,” Mina said into the dark. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought she had gone blind.

  “How so?”

  Mina recounted her story about the truck stop and how the Glyphs had let one man through. When she finished, Doyle remained silent.

  “They didn’t kill everyone then. Why?” Mina prompted.

  “All sorts of reasons.”

  “Like what?”

  “Maybe the Glyphs didn’t see him.”

  “They saw the other guy right away.”

  “Maybe that man was working with the Glyphs, and they let him through because they knew who he was.”

  “Why would they need a human?” Mina asked. “You said they had superior technology.”

  “Obviously they do, but maybe you were right back at the cabin when you asked if they had spies.”

  “I was thinking of the Glyphs as spies, though. Not people. Maybe they were forced to. Maybe the Glyphs have mind control.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Don’t spies bring risks? What about double agents?”

  Doyle snorted. “You’ve been reading too many novels.”

  “Think about it! If the Glyphs used human spies, isn’t there a chance one of them would sound the alarm?”

  “Yes, and that brings us back to the point that we don’t know what that man was doing out there. Maybe it was a fluke. Perhaps you were shell-shocked and hallucinated the whole thing. We just don’t know.”

  “I know what I saw, Doyle.”

  “Okay.”

  “And don’t patronize me. I wasn’t going crazy.”

  “Of course not, but you had just been through a traumatic experience. It’s likely that some of what you remember didn’t actually happen.”

  Mina leaned her head back against the damp tree. “We’ll just have to be extra careful. We can’t trust anyone.”

  “What have I been telling you all this time?”

  “Don’t get worked up. I’m agreeing with you.” Then she sat up and added, “You trust me, though.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “For all you know, I could be a spy for the Glyphs.”

  Doyle snorted loudly. “You’re not a spy, Mina.”

  “How would you know?”

  “A spy who always gets into trouble and follows a random man around in the woods? What for?”

  “Maybe to find out your secrets.”

  “Why would you need my secrets?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

  Doyle began to laugh, cracking up until he was shaking silently, his shoulder brushing against Mina’s as he tried to stifle his mirth.

  “Someday, I’ll give up my secrets,” he said when he could talk again. “Tell me, are you going to torture them out of me? Because that could be a lot of fun.” He barely uttered the words before breaking into another fit of quiet laughter.

  Mina smiled in the dark but tried to sound offended as she spoke. “No, I’m such a good spy that you will willingly give up all of your knowledge without coercion. It’s all about timing.”

  “I’ll just wait then.” Doyle continued to chuckle to himself for some time.

  Mina shivered and wrapped her blanket more tightly around her, pulling her knees up to her chin. “I’m not sure which is worse—dying a slow, agonizing death from hypothermia or lighting a fire and letting the Glyphs find us so it’ll be over with quickly.”

  “Here,” Doyle said.

  He scooted closer and wrapped half of his blanket around her, over the top of her own, keeping himself covered as well. This time, Doyle’s proximity didn’t feel awkward, and she welcomed the extra warmth. Mina rested her forehead on her knees and closed her eyes.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  She fell asleep quickly. When she woke a few hours later, darkness still surrounded her. Colder than ever, she unbent her stiff legs. Two blankets were still wrapped around her shoulders, but she couldn’t sense Doyle beside her.

  After feeling around in the dark and not finding him, she called softly, “Doyle? Where’d you go?”

  No response. A few minutes later, she called again. Worry turned to anger. He could have given a warning instead of disappearing mysteriously into the night.

  Common night sounds echoed strangely in Doyle’s absence—a bird fluttering from its roost, the wind stirring a tree and causing it to creak. The forest seemed especially noisy after the past few nights in the cabin. Mina startled at every sound, hoping each time for Doyle but fearing something else.

  Mina drew her gun, her finger finding the safety. She kept her hand on it and then holstered it again. She didn't need it.

  Something thudded in the forest a long way off. After pulling out her gun again, she laid it on the ground for easy access. Mina leaned back against the tree and waited for morning.

  Just before dawn, Mina sensed movement off to her right. She sat up, reaching for her gun, but her fingers touched only leaves. She groped hastily until her hands found the grip. She clicked off the safety but left it resting on the ground. The noise ceased.

  Mina had the distinct feeling she was being watched. “Who’s there? I’m armed!” she called into the dim light.

  A man stepped out from behind a tree. She felt his presence better than she could see him. Her heart thumped wildly inside her chest.

  “It’s me.”

  “Doyle!” After the initial thrill of seeing Doyle alive and unharmed, Mina’s anger returned in full force as she put the gun away. “What is wrong with you? I could have shot you!”

  “I’m glad to see I’ve taught you something at least.” Doyle tossed something at her feet as sunlight touched the ridge line. It was a small, lightweight tent packed in a dirty green stuff sack.

  “Where have you been?”

  “I wanted to see our surroundings.”

  “In the dark? You’re insane. You could have tripped and fallen, and I wouldn’t have had any idea where to look for you!”

  “But I didn’t. Your concern is touching, though.”

  “Of course I was concerned. You disappeared in the dark!”

  Doyle sat down near her as the morning light filtered swiftly over the ridge.

  Mina picked up the tent, which weighed surprisingly little. “Where did you find it?”

  “I found more than that. I found what the Glyphs are looking for. A large militant group is camped just over the ridge. I counted about three hundred campfires. Looks like many of them are regular Army joined by armed civilians.”

  Mina gasped. “And the Glyphs haven’t found them yet? Why not?”

  “They will shortly, with all the noise and light. They’ve gotten too comfortable. I want to get in closer, find out what they’re up to.”

  “You want to… what?”

  Doyle frowned. “It’s been too long since we had contact with anyone else. I want to know what’s happening. If there’s been resistance of any kind, these guys will know.”

  Mina shook her head. Marching into a camped of armed men sounded like insanity.

  “Come with me.” Doyle caught the look on Mina’s face and said, “Don’t worry. I won’t let you out of my sight.”

  “No.”

  “Why not? Don’t you want to know what’s happening in the rest of the world?” His words were a challenge. Apparently, evading the Glyphs and surviving the elements failed to provide enough excitement for him.

  “No, listen. You go and spend the day finding out what’s happening, and I’ll wait here for you. You even brought a tent. I’ll be fine.”

  “It could take more than a day to find out wh
at’s going on. In the meantime, what will you do if the Glyphs show up?”

  “They’re more likely to be attracted to a large group of people on the mountain than a single woman, aren’t they? They won’t even notice me.”

  “True, but if I have to run, how will I find you again?”

  “Aren’t we both speculating? What about the Glyphs? Shouldn’t we just warn the camp and move on?”

  “We will but not before I get something out of them.” Doyle looked at Mina with his typical exasperated expression. “Did you think we were going to wander around the mountains forever?”

  Yes. Mina was comfortable like this, in her isolation.

  “I thought you wanted purpose. What better purpose than to find out if there’s a resistance. If there’s a chance of fighting the Glyphs…”

  Mina’s stomach did a funny flip. He was right. If someone were able to destroy the invaders, everyone should help. Though at the moment, Mina didn’t know what she could do.

  “You might find your brother,” Doyle continued.

  “He wouldn’t be in a camp like that.”

  “You might say the same thing about yourself, except here we are discussing it. Your brother could have ended up anywhere.”

  “You won’t leave me? And we’ll get out as soon as possible?”

  “Absolutely.”

  As Mina followed Doyle once more, the creeping tendrils of fear worked their way up her spine. Worried about what they would find, she refused to hope, couldn’t bear the disappointment if Lincoln weren’t there.

  Somehow, she had some faith, anyway, but not in herself. If Doyle thought this was the right direction, then Mina trusted him to make the right decision. He was the only human contact she had now, and while she knew things were about to change, Mina felt safe when he was around.

  The feeling was the only thing that gave her hope as they crossed over the ridge to gaze upon the camp below.

  END BOOK 3

  Author Note

  Thanks for reading!

  Don’t forget, you can get an Origins story, The Mine, free as a download.