VECTOR (The Weaver Series Book 3)

by Vaun Murphrey

  Our uncle’s dark head of hair tipped up then down in affirmation, but he added a caveat. “Let Maggie get the kids distracted and on the other side of the van out of sight and then you ladies can threaten to your heart’s content.”

  James interjected, “Cass, you don’t have to be the bad guy. Malcolm can do it or I can.”

  Silver hardened our features before we found our center and stilled every good thought in our minds. James stumbled back and then took two steps forward as if to make up for his body’s betrayal as we turned away to meet the next challenge head on.

  Chapter Thirteen: Holding the Cards

  Gerome walked to the front of our ragged group to meet the van as it rolled to a stop about fifty yards out on a narrow rutted dirt track adjacent to the unplanted field. Weeds bordered the edge where the rows ended and when Malcolm opened the driver’s side to step out, his massive feet crushed the leafy vegetation flat. The large man’s face was already naturally dark but anger made his skin so black that all of the light in the sky couldn’t wipe away the shadows of his rage.

  On the opposite side of the van the passenger side door opened and we could see Agent Chavarria’s feet, clad in sensible rubber-soled men’s dress shoes, hit the uneven hard packed earth of the road and then the tire blocked that view until our uninvited guest came around the front bumper. The fake thousand watt smile was plastered over his face again, making his teeth gleam like a used car salesman’s as he walked right past Malcolm to head directly toward Silver and I where we stood with the Lees.

  Gerome changed his course, putting himself in the Agent’s path as Malcolm’s stride ate up the distance. For a moment I thought they might body slam the guy between them in a government agent sandwich. Malcolm did an about face to stand on Gerome’s right with his muscular forearms crossed over his chest. Chavarria started to speak and our uncle put a finger to his lips then held his palm outward to stop his speech. Surprisingly the man listened, if with poor grace. Malcolm and Chavarria were dry but both of them had gotten their clothes soiled helping everyone during the hurried gym exodus. I turned to Maggie to give a head nod toward the long-bodied conversion van.

  Maggie’s voice rang out falsely cheerful under the flat-bottomed cotton-topped clouds in the sky. “Hey kids, let’s head over on the other side of the van to wait. I think I saw a yellow butterfly over there you can chase for a bit.”

  Reb got whiny but Ray looked at his father and Malcolm with a solemn face and quietly nudged his sister along. Corinne’s shield still covered them as they walked away and the filaments keeping them connected felt like they stretched finer than a strand of DNA. Once Maggie, a still shell-shocked David and the rambunctious three-year-olds were blocked from sight, I made a come hither hand signal at both Harris women. I didn’t need Cora for anything but I doubted she’d appreciate being left out. It was her daughter I was after as Silver formed a plan.

  The Harris’s both wore the same reluctantly curious expression as they walked closer, kicking up a slip stream of dirt at ankle level with their steps. The uniform rows of this field were going to be a jagged mess by the time we left. James scooted over to our left with Kara to give Corinne and Cora room on our right. We grouped together in a tiny v formation with Silver and I at the apex.

  Gerome’s voice cut through the air sharp with impatience. We should’ve been back on the road to the compound to help our people, not standing out here dealing with this…Outsider. I shook that observation away because my inner derisive emphasis on the word ‘Outsider’ made me feel like a bigot. Bad people came in all forms. Silver and I knew this better than most. It gave us a glimpse of the hate Cora Harris must feel every moment of her life.

  Gerome broke the ice with a curt, “What do you want?”

  Chavarria gave a half smile and raised his hands out from his sides as if to communicate he meant no harm. “I only want to open a dialog and let you know we’re aware of you. I’m authorized to offer aid in your hour of need to ensure you of our good intentions. If you require accommodations in the aftermath of this…natural disaster, the government would be more than happy to assist.”

  Malcolm grunted in disbelief as Gerome asked, “Who’s this mysterious ‘we’?”

  The agent shifted his stance confidently. In his view, the question had cemented acceptance of his offer. “I work for a silent arm of the Department of Defense. There is no specific acronym assigned to us. We’re ghosts in the machine without a paper trail. Officially I’m an agent in the FBI just as I introduced myself originally, unofficially… that’s a little more difficult to pin down.”

  Chavarria’s eyes strayed in our direction as if they couldn’t help themselves and I noticed Gerome’s shoulders stiffen in response.

  Malcolm’s voice was a deep contrast to Gerome’s hard authoritative one. The looming muscled hulk of his body vibrated with anger barely held in check as he asked, “And what’s the tradeoff for this ‘aid’ you so-o-o generously offer?”

  Chavarria’s lids blinked and he refocused his attention on the two men standing before him. “Information. We tell you what intelligence we’ve gathered on the Warp Faction and you tell us about yourselves in more detail.”

  Just who had this guy been talking to that he knew about the Warp Faction? Weavers were careful to only discuss certain topics in secure environments or the Web. Somebody was already spilling the beans. Cora Harris couldn’t stomach being relegated to the background anymore and broke away from her daughter’s side to march stiff-armed up to Gerome’s unoccupied flank, reducing our v pattern to a check mark.

  Cora looked like a pale period at the end of a short sentence standing next to Gerome and Malcolm as she said, “I don’t know where you got your information, but we won’t be sharing any details as you so succinctly put it. Since when is it legal for the government to spy on its citizens? You can spare me the whole song and dance about national security and the Patriot Act. We see right through you. What are the consequences for noncompliance?”

  I nudged Corinne with an elbow and closed our eyes to signal we needed to speak in the Web. Silver would have to take that chore while I kept tabs on things. Our blonde companion’s lids lowered and the wind blew a gust against the shield. A stray piece of grass rested on her cheek and she likely didn’t even feel it. Silver left to share our plan.

  If we were lucky Agent Chavarria could be warned off without us having to lay a finger on him. Maybe warned off was too strong…they wouldn’t ever stay away now that they knew about Weavers but we could make them extremely cautious. The line was fine for how far was too far. One word or insinuated threat too much and they could just decide we were all too dangerous to live, too little and they’d steamroll us. Worse yet, they could discreetly decide to side with the Warps. Gerome had always known this day would come. The Council had chosen to keep their heads in the sand, but our uncle had known better.

  Chavarria rubbed the back of his closely shaven neck in an awe shucks move, enlarging his eyes with transparent innocence. “Not to put it crudely, ma’am, but you really don’t have much choice. Cooperation proves you aren’t an enemy. The government can’t be expected to leave an unknown element inside its borders unchecked.”

  Malcolm uncrossed his forearms and leaned down into the agent’s face. “So what…you gonna kill us all? Some of us aren’t so easy to kill.”

  Chavarria stood statue still in the shadow of Malcolm’s body, then raised his right hand to point at the cloud-laced, strikingly bright blue sky. “There’s a satellite aimed on us right now. If I give the go ahead two unmanned aerial vehicles will drop their package on the survivors and finish the job mother nature and your enemies started.”

  Malcolm’s fists tightened at his thighs and Gerome sighed before saying, “So we give you whatever access you want or you neutralize us with a drone strike? Whatever happened to ensuring us of your good intentions?”

  Cora raised her voice to the north side of shrill. “How would you explain this to the
press? You can’t just randomly blow a whole community out of existence!” Her arms flung outward with her shout.

  Chavarria took a step back from the still looming mountain of Malcolm to focus on Cora. “We’ll just say you had a meth lab and several tons of homemade explosives that went off in the storm. Maybe you were some kind of end of times doomsayers or a cult? Who knows, but whatever we say people will believe it.”

  Silver popped back, already growling in reaction to my surface thoughts she’d caught in the Web. “We’re all set, Sister.”

  Corinne shifted her stance at our side and flicked the errant dead grass off her face. Even though her expression was completely blank, her eyes burned with fierce emotion. I stretched our senses through the veneer of Corinne’s energy and felt her cool fingertips as they brushed our palm solidifying our connection physically. For two people that didn’t get along we made a good team when forced into it.

  Silver and I quested along the filament highways joining everyone but Malcolm. At the edge of Gerome’s field of protection we pushed a finger out in an invisible tentacle at Chavarria. The first brush against his chest made his eyes widen and the sternocleidomastoid muscle in his neck stood out as he jerked his head back, searching out the source of his invaded body space.

  Corinne’s touch increased our control and the flexibility of the shield we molded into a primitive arm. Gerome could probably feel the flex and shift of his shield as it pulled out from his upper body but he didn’t turn to ask us. The only tell was the hand he extended to tap Malcolm’s thick wrist and a whole world of thought passed between the two men when they made eye contact.

  Our new extra ‘arm’ grew into a thick rope to wrap around the agent’s neck like a vine from an Axsian carnivorous plant or the coils of an anaconda seconds before it put on the killing squeeze. We could feel our victim’s fingers scrabble against the impervious shield around his throat. Just a little tighter and we might crush his hyoid. We lifted the man effortlessly to dangle like he was coated in pixie dust but this wasn’t Peter Pan and Never-Never Land didn’t exist.

  Gerome played his part to perfection, deepening his voice to the darkest, most evil of tones. “We don’t need drones to threaten anyone. I’m perfectly capable of defending myself and my people against anyone who comes calling…even you.” Our uncle waited until Chavarria’s legs flailed wildly in panic before crossing his arms behind his back to motion down with an index finger.

  We lowered the agent to the ground and loosened our hold on his neck but he was so gone in fear he lost his feet and sprawled in the dirt. Almost lackadaisically Silver and I flexed the extended tentacle of the shield and visualized it picking him up playfully by his collar. When he was mostly erect we released the stiff blue cotton at the back of his shirt to pat him absently on the top of his head. The pressure sensations were akin to a muted sense of touch along the ‘skin’ of malleable energy and we tried to be careful not to use too much force. So far so good…Chavarria wasn’t dead.

  Just to be safe we clenched the firearm in its holster at his side with a steadily increasing pressure until the trigger bent sideways and the plastic on the grip cracked. Everyone jumped at the sound. Gerome controlled his response, only giving away the barest of flinches. If we were to keep up the fiction that our uncle was doing all of this he couldn’t act surprised by his own actions.

  To recover the moment Gerome began to speak, drawing Chavarria’s attention away from his destroyed gun. “While I appreciate you might think it necessary to be clear regarding the lengths our government will go to protect itself,” Malcolm spit to the side at Gerome’s remark, “I have to be clear in return. You know nothing of us or what we can do.”

  Face contorted as if every breath was a struggle and rubbing his throat, Chavarria raised his watery eyes to rasp out, “What…are…you?”

  Malcolm laughed. “An enhanced version of you, stupid. What…did you think we were, aliens?”

  Even though the agent’s twisted expression made his red face harder to read it was obvious that was exactly what they’d thought. Gerome took a deep breath at Malcolm’s insult but let the comment stand.

  Cora issued a cold smile before adding, “Oh, there are aliens running around here, to be sure, but we’re undeniably human. We’re to you what modern day Homo sapiens were to Homo Neanderthalensis. Scientists have evidence they lived side by side for a time until the Neanderthals died out. Perhaps you should read up. History has a habit of repeating itself.”

  Agent Chavarria straightened fully, trying to regain some of his lost composure and failing. “What guarantee do we have that you aren’t trying to replace us already?” He didn’t look convinced of anything, only like he was trying to buy time and get more information.

  Gerome dipped his head in a nod as if to acknowledge his question was a good one. “Weavers—that’s what we call ourselves—are split down the middle in a civil war that’s lasted centuries. The Warps you mentioned earlier are our enemy. Our side doesn’t choose to fight for any political or religious reason but is forced to for survival. If you want a threat, look to them. As for aliens, well, that’s a whole different story that I’m not at liberty to discuss unless you give us some assurances.”

  Chavarria stopped rubbing his neck and perked up. “Such as?”

  Cora Harris leaned forward, standing on her tip toes to get eye to eye with the taller man. “For starters you can call off your unmanned aerial vehicles and communicate to your superiors that we plan to cooperate on our terms, at a time of our choosing which isn’t right now.”

  He blinked at her fierce stance and smiled before saying with a clenched jaw, “And when should I say that time will be?”

  Gerome put a hand on Cora’s shoulder as he spoke and she eased down from her tiptoed position after an annoyed glance backward. “When we call you. Give Malcolm your number and after the compound is settled he’ll contact you.” Gerome didn’t get closer to Chavarria or lean forward but something in his demeanor changed, giving his wiry frame a sense of menace. “You’ve seen some of what we can do. Unless you’d like to move to the top of our threat list I suggest you back off.”

  Silver flicked our invisible tentacle at the agent’s chin in a gentle tap and then caressed the column of his neck as the blood rushed to his face, giving tell to the mish mash of fear or anger within.

  Silver laughed playfully before suggesting, “Should we give him a dry willy? It’s not quite the same as licking a pinky and stickin’ it in somebody’s ear, but this situation calls for improvisation.” At my inner eye roll of emotions, Silver groaned, “You’re always so serious…c’mon, man…not even a wedgie?”

  It was getting increasingly harder to hold my face straight and the corner of our mouth twitched on its way to creeping up. Gerome made his downward hand signal again, telling us to back off, and Silver stopped tormenting Chavarria.

  Reb squealed in play on the other side of the van and Maggie’s voice carried on the wind as she scolded one of them for something. Corinne was still at our side and she could sense the shield just as we could. To our surprise she took control of the ‘arm’ smoothly, retracting it into Gerome’s chest. The little blonde pain in the ass was a fast learner. Our uncle gave a shoulder shrug but otherwise showed no sign he felt the movement.

  Cora’s voice went steely and shrill making Malcolm flinch. “As a show of good faith, get off our property. Signal a drone or something and ride off into the sunset, but stay the hell off our land until you have a warrant or you’re invited.” The councilwoman waved one arm vaguely in the air, imitating a flight pattern. It made her look like the exhausted, exasperated woman she was. I realized we needed to leave before someone reached the end of her rope.

  Without sharing her thoughts Silver released Corinne’s now sweaty hand to reach back and grab James by the forearm. I could sense her simultaneous search in the Web for a nearby FBI field office and other unrelated nonsense began to pour across her surface thoughts, hiding whateve
r she was planning.

  I could guess though.

  Once James gave us his full attention, Kara noticed and sidled out of the checkmark formation. We were getting smoother at reading each other’s body language already and she immediately reached out both hands for a link up.

  Silver shook our head in a short side to side, held up a just-a minute finger then turned to speak. “No need for a drone, Sweetie. We’ll give Chavarria a lift while y’all head back. Maybe we’ve all gotten off on the wrong foot here.”

  My twin made her voice sound ultra-southern. Suspicion boiled like thick, starchy pasta-filled water but she successfully blocked my probes with her stream of nonsense. Silver was either afraid I would object to her idea or just enjoying being a shit. Either way I wasn’t pleased.

  Our feet slid sideways and down into the plowed dirt making our progress feel clumsy. When Kara and James tried to follow, my sister waved them back causing both of their brows to crease in confusion. I wasn’t comfortable being separated from the Lees and Silver knew it. Surely she couldn’t be serious about teleporting Chavarria somewhere?

  As we drew even with the agent my sister raised one of our hands as if to shake. Good manners overcame caution and his calloused fingers enclosed ours instinctually. Our ungloved, unprotected skin touched an Outsider’s for the first time. Crap. Just as quickly as it came my panic subsided as I realized Corinne’s shield would probably stop any cross contamination and was also most likely preventing us from ‘porting the agent.

  Silver turned to give Gerome a wink. “Be ri-i-ight back!”

  I could feel her prep an image in her mind of a roof and a strange thing happened. It was enhanced from the outside as if another mind were filling in the gaps of our knowledge. A finer awareness of the warmth and resilience of the fingers we clasped in faux greeting let me know our veneer of energy was somehow bypassed to form a connection.

  Silver seemed as surprised by that development as I was. Widened, panicked dark brown eyes met ours as Chavarria tried to pull his hand away but my twin held firm as the edges of the bright blue sky began to fall in a pixilated curtain. A new sky with differently arranged clouds and a lighter shade of blue replaced the old one.