“Can I ask ye somethin’?” Marnie looks back at the boys over her shoulder. “That thing ye said earlier. About ‘special camp friends’?”
“Oh, that,” I say, exhaling a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I was just, um, having a go at Ducky.”
“About what? About me?” Marnie arches her eyebrow, and I am reminded that she could probably judo toss me out of the helicopter in one fluid motion if she doesn’t like my answer.
“Yes, but, I mean, not about you. I mean . . . How to put this? I think Ducky’s afraid that, now that we’re free and heading home, you’re going to find him less compelling than say, some rugged Enosi freedom fighter from your past.”
“Is that the truth, now?” she asks, smirking. She turns back to the boys. “And what if I’m afeart there’s someone else he’ll fancy now, seein’ as how they’re available?”
“Um, I don’t know what you—”
“Donald Hunter Pence!” Marnie screams suddenly, rising up. Ducky snaps his head at the sound.
Marnie strides across the platform to where Ducky and Cole sit. Instinctively I leap up and follow her.
“Am I to understand that now that yer options are improving, ye plan on castin’ me aside, ye two-timin’ rake?” Marnie fumes. Her blue eyes are wide with indignation, which—don’t ask me how—seems to make her hair look redder.
“What?” Ducky asks, shock overwhelming his nausea. “Rake? Who? What? Don’t speak so Scottish. I can’t—”
“I’m onto ye, lad, and yer womanizing ways.” She slaps him on the arm for emphasis. “Did ye enjoy yerself, anyway? Playing me heart like a bloody fiddle?”
“Who said? What? Who? What?” Ducky looks like he’s being attacked by invisible mosquitoes all around his head.
“I’m yer special camp friend, izzat it?” Marnie continues. She’s laying into the poor guy with everything she’s got. Her eyes are wide, her finger’s a-jabbing, and her brogue is turned to high. “Oh, ye’ve got all the time in the world for plain old Marnie when yer locked away in the blizzards. But with our Elvie being a single lass again, now that yer bloody soul mate is yers for the pluckin—”
“I knew it!” Cole interrupts, through a queasy burp.
“Elvie, what did you say to her?” Ducky asks me, shielding his face from a barrage of slaps.
“I may have said something about ‘special camp friend,’” I admit with a cringe. “But that’s it. I didn’t mean to imply—”
“You’ve been after my girl the whole time!” Cole slurs at Ducky, lunging toward him awkwardly. Ducky dodges easily, and Cole crumples to the ground.
“Marnie, I swear,” Ducky says, scrambling to his feet, “that’s not what I meant.”
“So you dinnae fancy Elvie, then?” Marnie asks.
“I was telling Elvie that I was afraid you didn’t feel the same as me.”
“And how izzit that ye feel, Donald?” Marnie says, looking him square in the eye.
“I . . .” Ducky looks around, possibly considering a headfirst dive out of the helicopter to avoid answering. “I . . .” The rest of his words are mumbled into his chest so that I can’t hear.
“Wha’s that?” Marnie asks.
“I fancy you,” he says, slightly more clearly.
Marnie’s stern gaze immediately breaks, and she bursts out laughing.
“Do ye really think I’d be messin’ with ye, prison or no, if I dinnae fancy ye back, ye nidderrodded dunce?”
“Um, I . . . ,” Ducky says. “No?”
“Of course not.” She grabs at his chest and clutches his shirt, pulling his face close to hers.
“Careful,” Ducky says. “I smell like puke.”
“And no doubt ye taste like it too.” With that, Marnie plants a hard wet kiss on Ducky. “How’s that fer a ‘special camp friend’?” she says, before going in for a second smooch.
Cole turns to me, equal parts confused and queasy. “So, you didn’t break up with me because of Ducky?” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “No,” I tell him honestly.
“So, you really just don’t like me at all?”
“Cole, I—”
A hand grabs at my sleeve. “Dearheart?”
I turn and look at my father. He’s as white as a sheet. And not some ordinary run-of-the-mill sheet either. I mean like a really, really noticeably white example of sheetiness.
“What’s the matter, Dad?” I ask, worried. “You feel sick?”
“You can have the bucket if you need it, Mr. Nara,” Cole offers.
“No. Elvie. We’ve arrived.”
“We’re in the Poconos already?” Time sure flies when you’re fighting with a vomiting comedy duo. “Do we need to send them a signal or something, to let them know we’re coming in? I don’t know if they have defensive laser mounts embedded in their lodge-stronghold thing or not, but better safe than—”
“Elvie, it’s gone,” Dad says.
I feel a sudden pit in my stomach. They can’t have left. I need Byron. He’s the only one who might be able to help me track down my baby. “How can you be sure?” I am reaching panic levels again. Hold on, I repeat to myself. To somewhere-Olivia. Hold on. Mama’s coming. “Have you tried to radio them? It’s the middle of the night; maybe they’re all asleep.”
“Elvie,” Dad says again, the concern practically exploding all over his face. “It’s gone.”
“The lodge?”
“The Poconos.”
All I’m aware of is how warm my face feels. Like a million red-hot needles were all carefully inserted into my skin at the same time. I rush to the long window along the side of the helicopter and look down at the ski resort town below. There are no lights for as far as I can see, save for the dim orange glow of a dozen fires.
The Poconos are burning.
Chapter Three
Wherein our Merry Gang once Again Finds Itself in a Pickle
“Try it now, dearheart,” Dad says, his butt sticking out from under the console. Seeing the site of all our hopes for humanity’s salvation ablaze has given the man an unexpected burst of energy, and now he’s on his hands and knees, attempting to reconnect power to the lone computer system that seems to have survived the devastation.
One computer terminal. That’s what we’ve found in the still-smoking rubble of the Almiri ski lodge headquarters. One—count it, one—computer on the second floor that was only nominally scathed by whatever took place here. Everything else in the area has been completely decimated. An entire town annihilated. Once we tuned in to local news broadcasts, we got reports of an apparent catastrophic overload in the town’s power grid that had caused a cascade of electrical fires and explosions. The area has been evacuated for the time being while folks try to figure out the safest way to proceed. But the second we landed at the skeletal remains of the lodge and saw the concentration of damage surrounding it, I knew what had happened here. Perhaps the power grid overload in town was used as a distraction, but the damage to the lodge is different, specific, and familiar. The energy burns on the building façade. The pinpoint destruction of crucial support structures. This wasn’t a power surge. This was the Jin’Kai.
But which Jin’Kai? It couldn’t be the invasion. It wouldn’t make sense for them to target this one spot and then disappear. No, when they do hit, they’re going to hit hard and fast, and they won’t go anywhere once they’re finished. This hit and run has Dr. Marsden written all over it. His splinter group must have found a way to locate the Almiri and target them. But why? Were they looking for something, or just trying to eliminate an adversary when the adversary wasn’t expecting it? With the Almiri gone, what hope do I have to track my baby now? It’s taking everything I have to not melt into a puddle of tears.
Hold on, Olivia, I think again. But the voice in my head is growing weaker by the minute. Hold on.
There’s
a slight hum as the power turns on and the monitor in front of me flickers to life. Barely, but there’s a flicker.
“It worked!” I shout. From underneath the console comes Dad’s trademark “Hmmph” of triumph.
The victory, however, is short-lived. I let out a frustrated sigh as I take in the black cursor, blinking against a totally white screen. I punch the screen with the bottom of my fist. The already cracked display rains little shards onto the console.
“What is it, dearheart?” Dad asks, shimmying awkwardly out from underneath the console. He rises up on his knees to take a look.
“The operating system’s been wiped,” I tell him. Through the empty blown-out window frame I gaze at where the two helicopters rest in the snow. Hold on, Olivia. “Completely erased.”
“There must be something here to salvage,” Dad says. “We’ll run some recovery software, or . . .” But he trails off without even finishing the thought. We both know that Apple probably doesn’t make any software compatible with an Almiri mainframe server.
When Cole enters the room with Ducky and Marnie, I decide, just for the moment, to pretend like I am okay. I steady my breathing. Straighten my back.
“Any luck?” I ask them. The gang’s been searching the rubble and the surrounding grounds for survivors. But as soon as I see their faces, I know the answer. Ducky, for one, looks like he has just vomited. And not from motion sickness.
Marnie puts a protective arm around Ducky’s waist. Cole’s face is ashen.
“We found them,” Cole says, and it’s obvious he’s been experiencing the world’s worst sobering-up. I’m hoping somehow that he won’t say what he does next, but of course he has to. “They’re all dead.”
The ice in my chest plummets into my stomach. “All of them?” I ask.
Cole merely looks at the ground.
“They were still in their rooms,” Marnie says. “It looks like they were locked in. They couldnae get out when . . .” She trails off and motions with her eyes at the burning debris surrounding us.
“Oh God.” I sink to the floor.
Cole is the one who sinks down to comfort me. “We’ll find her, Elvie,” he tells me.
I bury my head in my arms. “Will we?” I ask.
“We have to.”
Hold on, Olivia.
“Byron might still be alive,” Dad says, rubbing my shoulder. “He seems like a more than capable fellow. Perhaps he was able to—”
“Shhh,” Ducky says suddenly.
“What d’ye hear?” Marnie asks.
Ducky shakes his head—he’s not sure. When he points to the blown-out window, I quickly rise and make my way over.
I hear it now too.
Voices. Outside. I peek my head out to look.
Down below, our friends Rupert and Clark, along with a handful of other Almiri and Enosi, are near the first-floor rear entrance, most likely searching the perimeter of the grounds.
“They’re talking to someone,” I whisper to the others, holding a hand up for them to stay back away from the window. “I can’t tell who.”
“But who could be—” Cole starts at full volume, before Marnie leans down to slap a hand over his mouth. I strain to listen to the conversation thirty meters away.
“We belong to the cooperative that runs the lodge, officers,” I hear Rupert say. “We were only trying to survey the damage.”
“In the middle of the night?” comes the gruff reply.
Cops. Damn. They must have seen the helicopters landing. Or perhaps the local authorities left a small detachment to patrol the mountain. Either way, dealing with a squad of clueless policeman could get real complicated real fast. How exactly are we supposed to explain who we are or what we’re doing here?
“Sir, I’m going to need you to keep your hands where I can see them,” one of the officers barks.
Rupert’s hands are up near his chest. Even I can seem them. “What we have here is a simple misunderstanding,” Rupert says. He sounds like he’s trying to be playful, so I can only imagine that the police officer is handsome. Still, Rupert, not the time. “We didn’t realize the area was off-limits. Don’t you think we can discuss this like two—”
“Hands up,” the officer growls again. Honestly, I’m surprised by the guy’s tone. I’ve yet to meet anyone, male or female, who can resist Rupert’s charms when he decides to crank the sexy up to eleven.
“Dearheart,” Dad whispers. He comes over to tug on my arm. “Get away from the window.”
But my eyes are fixed on the scene below.
As Rupert takes a step back, the main cop he’s been dealing with comes into view.
Strong jaw.
Five o’clock shadow.
“No!” I shriek at the top of my lungs. But it’s too late, because before Rupert or any of the others can even register who’s screaming about what, the Jin’Kai in police garb pulls out his ray gun and fires. Rupert takes the blast straight through the chest and collapses backward in the snow, dead. It’s instant pandemonium as the other Jin’Kai raise their weapons and open fire on the remaining Almiri and Enosi. Clark, stunned by the sudden execution of his best friend, is a half second late in reacting to a shot in his direction. He catches the blast in the shoulder and spins full around before falling face-first into the snow. I scream again, which distracts Clark’s assailant just long enough for Clark to jump back up and swipe the guy’s legs out from under him. I don’t see the rest, because my screaming has drawn the rest of the Jin’Kai’s attention, and all at once shots are perforating what’s left of the wall around me.
Marnie pulls me down away from the window. “We’ve got to get out of here!” she yelps.
“But the others . . . ,” I start.
“There’s no time. We haven’t any weapons. We must leave. Now!”
And for once I think maybe I’ll listen to someone’s advice.
Marnie, Cole, Ducky, Dad, and I book it out of the room. We’re halfway down the hallway before we realize we don’t have the faintest clue where we’re going. More shots ring out from below, followed by confused shouts as the Jin’Kai make their way into the building and take aim at our remaining comrades.
“There’s no way to get to the helicopters,” I pant as we run. Way to state the obvious, Elvie. “They probably have all the entrances blocked.” Maybe when I’m done with all the running, I can go back to school to get my PhD in dur.
“Is there any other exit?” Marnie asks. “A service entrance, or a garbage chute, perhaps?”
Oh dear Lord, not another garbage chute.
Cole suddenly gets a look on his face like a lightbulb just went off. Which, honestly, is not a look I’ve ever seen on him before.
“This way. Follow me!” he barks. He directs us down the left hallway, around a sharp turn, and toward a flight of stairs. For the first time since we hightailed it off the Echidna, he actually looks like the commando that barged his way onto a ship full of baddies to rescue me. I didn’t realize quite how much I missed that Cole until just now.
We’re racing down the hallway, when suddenly the floor breaks away beneath Dad. He lets out a startled squawk, and his right leg disappears. Just vanishes into the floor, all the way up to the knee. Ducky and I swarm on him as quickly as we can and try to hoist him up, but he’s too heavy.
“The knee!” he grunts. “Why is it always my knee?”
“Cole, help!” I call ahead of me. The sounds of our impending doom are growing louder behind us. Stomping. Chasing. Jin’Kai barking orders to one another. But no more screaming. No more shots. For all I know, everyone else is dead already.
Cole slides to a halt and doubles back to us.
“Step back, Elvie!” Dad says, before letting Cole grab him underneath the arms. “The whole floor is completely unstable.” Cole lifts Dad easily, and together they start back dow
n the hall. Cole stops, though, when he realizes I’m not following them. Instead I’m kicking at the hole Dad fell through, filling it with clouds of debris and splintered wood.
“Elvie, what are you doing?” Cole shouts.
“Only be a minute!” I holler back, still kicking. It’s not until I hear our pursuers around the far corner that I turn tail and run toward the others. Ducky is waving his arms in a windmill motion, urging me on.
That’s when the “cops” turn the corner and open fire.
Ducky flinches as the shots fizzle around him. “Just go!” I shout. He obliges, turning and making his way up the stairs where the others are already racing out of sight. A few more shots whip by me as I follow. At least my efforts to not be blasted to death are aided by the wreckage the Jin’Kai have already produced. The hallway is so trashed that I have to zigzag around the mess, which probably makes me a slightly more difficult target to hit.
I’d also like to think that my time in Antarctica helped me shed most of the baby weight.
“Hurry, Elvie. They’re getting closer!” Ducky calls from the top of the stairs.
That’s exactly what I’m counting on.
The weakened floor gives way under the hot cops’ stomping feet, and I whirl around just in time to catch the results of my considerable kicking skills. The first two dopes fall completely through and crash to the floor below. The third manages to grab the edge of the newly gaping hole, but all that serves to do is rip the edge of the floor away even further, which sends him and number four—who had managed to stop just short of the fall—tumbling after their buddies, who have landed in a heap of douche bag below us.
I catch up to the others, pretty pleased with myself.
“Congrats,” Marnie says drolly. “Ye’ve bought us ten seconds. After costing us twenty.”
I frown. There’ll be time later to be annoyed with Marnie for being right. Hopefully. For now I run.
Cole, with my father in tow, leads us down the new wide hallway toward an atrium, where the high glass ceiling has completely shattered to the ground. The cold night air rushes in around me as we run to the far door, slushing our way through beads of safety glass. I’m trying to figure out why Cole is leading us up. I’m really hoping he isn’t planning on all of us leaping off a balcony, having forgotten that not everybody can survive a twenty-meter jump.
The World Forgot Page 3
