Final Scream

by Brookover, David

  Nick was eager to hear Crow’s report, especially the part where he wouldn’t like the results pertaining to Noah and Terror Island, but he humored Gabriella.

  “Donna Lake and I met during my meeting with the Scripps Institute’s top executive, Frank Mesenburg, and she acted annoyed with me the entire time. Now I’ll have to reevaluate her innuendos blaming my aunt for sending Noah to Terror Island.”

  “Really? That takes balls,” Crow exclaimed.

  “Yeah. Telling you your own aunt is a spy for the other side,” Neo added.

  “And she was reluctant to let me see pictures of E.V.A.N.”

  “Who’s E.V.A.N.?” Gabriella posed.

  Nick described the expedition’s alien finding, Noah’s successful attempt to clone it, and its ultimate theft. Noah volunteered to appear on Final Scream as a cover for searching Terror Island and the neighboring islands for other alien creatures.

  “I take it E.V.A.N. is an acronym?” Neo stated, his elbows braced on the table. Even Crow’s forkful of salad lingered beyond his mouth as he awaited the answer.

  “Extraterrestrial Virulent Assault Nemesis.”

  “Sounds military to me,” Gabriella chimed in.

  “It is. And guess who the intermediary is between the traitors at the Pentagon and the mystery person who orchestrated the deaths of everyone associated with Final Scream?”

  Crow rubbed his chin in pseudo-seriousness. “Gee, that’s a real brain-buster,” he said facetiously. “Could the answer be Jonathon Foster from the NSA?”

  “Give that man a prize!” Nick exclaimed.

  “Thanks.” He bowed. “What I don’t get is why the NSA’s counterterrorism unit is involved with Terror Island?”

  Nick buttered a piece of bread. “Your guess is as good as mine at this juncture.”

  “So Donna Lake lied about your aunt. What did she have to gain by doing that?” Neo asked.

  Gabriella piped up. “Maybe she tossed us a red herring to misdirect our investigation into the people responsible for the Final Scream fiasco.”

  “Fiasco is an appropriate word, since we don’t really know whether the people of Terror Island are dead or alive,” Nick reminded them. “I tend to agree with Gabriella’s idea about the red herring. Now for the part of the interview that floored me. Both Lake and Mesenburg knew the island’s real name, but they sent Noah there anyway.”

  “What is its real name, Custer?” Crow asked.

  “Kepolo Island. It’s Polynesian for Devil Island.”

  Neo leaned back and whistled. “Shit the bed, Fred! So Scripps shipped their boy genius, Noah, to a place called Devil Island. With that moniker, he was doomed to die before finding a grasshopper in the jungle there.”

  Crow pushed away his empty salad plate and buttered a dinner roll. “Whoa! Let’s give those people the benefit of the doubt. Noah might’ve known the island’s Polynesian name, you know, and volunteered anyway.”

  Nick swallowed the last of his bread. “Crow’s got a point—a thin one, but a point.”

  Crow threw him a dirty look, then grinned.

  Nick hesitated before describing his strange run-in with the preternatural dragon mirage on the plane to Columbus and his subsequent brain-picking of the guilty sorcerer. “According to my mind meld of sorts, E.V.A.N.’s theft was the second red herring supposed to steer us in the wrong direction. I also learned there is no such Wicker plant that changes normal people into Wicker. It was done with magic. Her physical change, the operating room murders, and her subsequent disappearance were deliberately staged, but why? That’s the question of the day.”

  Nick sighed. “From what I gleaned from our mysterious sorcerer, the conspirators used the Final Scream people as bait to both lure me to the island and coax someone out of hiding. Exactly who or what, I don’t know.”

  “Maybe they’re big-time poachers who are trying to attract other creatures like E.V.A.N. for profit,” Gabriella offered.

  “Yeah, that might be it.”

  “But why lure you to the island, Chief?” Crow posed.

  “I don’t have the faintest idea,” Nick responded.

  “I wonder if their plan worked and they caught or killed a bunch of weird-ass beasties,” Neo stated.

  “I guess we’ll find out when we get there,” Gabriella stated.

  Crow wiped his mouth and placed his crumpled napkin on the table. “I wouldn’t count on that,” he said mysteriously as he typed a few commands on his laptop. A television news report displaying offshore video appeared on the HD screen. “This is Terror Island now.” He spun the screen around so the others could view the violent volcanic eruption and pyroclastic flow obliterating three Blackhawk helicopters.

  Nick’s chin sank. “My island research didn’t mention anything about a volcano being there.”

  “There wasn’t one … until today,” Crow informed them. “It just appeared out of nowhere, as if by…”

  “Magic?” Gabriella finished.

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact.”

  Nick’s eyes grew watery. “If Noah wasn’t dead before the eruption, he sure must be now.”

  “Hold your horses, Nick!” the sassy supercomputer interjected through the laptop speakers.

  48

  “That’s enough idioms from you,” Crow chastised his creation.

  “Yes, Chief Sourpuss.” The supercomputer paused for a reaction but received none. “Everyone, look closely at the most recent satellite video of the Terror Island eruption, and you’ll see what I meant concerning Noah’s survival,” Geronimo directed. “The sound is muted so we won’t disturb the other diners.”

  The supercomputer reran to video showing the pyroclastic flow annihilate the three airborne Blackhawk helicopters. The satellite’s perspective slowly swung across the island to its opposite shore.

  “Pay close attention to the beach near the water,” Geronimo instructed.

  Nick leaned closer to the screen and detected several black dots standing beneath the tumbling pyroclastic flow. The tropical trees and plants were instantly vaporized as the lethal current continued its destructive path toward the Pacific … and the dots.

  “What are they?” Nick demanded.

  “Zoom in closer,” Crow commanded.

  “Whatever my Great Red Master requests,” the computer replied drolly. The picture froze while Geronimo magnified the dots.

  “Well, I’ll be damned!” Neo exclaimed. “We’ve got ourselves a bunch of butt ugly winged aliens about to fly off and leave that brown-haired guy to die.”

  “He looks a lot like Noah Wright,” Gabriella pointed out.

  Nick pumped his fist in the air. “That clever son-of-a-gun is alive! Thank God!”

  Nick’s reaction wasn’t exactly a surprise to Gabriella. She kind of expected it, because Nick felt guilty about not rushing out to the island to rescue his cousin, and if Noah died, that guilt would magnify a hundred fold.

  Crow gestured at the screen. “Look! Noah’s talking. Geronimo, see if you can filter out the ambient noise so we can hear what he’s saying.”

  “Nick instructed me to mute the volume,” Geronimo argued.

  “It’s okay. Go ahead and do what Crow asked,” Nick said.

  “That’s a tall order, but I’ll do what I can.” The supercomputer manipulated the sounds, but Noah’s voice remained buried in the crashing ocean waves. “I will try magnifying Noah’s face and see if we can read his lips.”

  Even with a bird’s-eye close-up view, Noah’s mouth wasn’t completely visible, so it was impossible to translate his conversation with the winged creatures, no matter how many times the supercomputer replayed the video. However, Geronimo had limited success. “Here are the parts of their conversation I could translate. Noah is saying, ‘I’ll go! I’ll … something-something … out of here!’ That’s all I got.”

  “Hmmm. Strange. It sounds like Noah’s asking the creatures to fly him off the island,” Nick surmised.

  “Makes sense,” Cr
ow concurred. “Fly or die.”

  Nick rolled his eyes. “You should be in advertising,” he said facetiously.

  Gabriella drummed her fingers on the Formica. “Something’s not right with this picture. Why would Noah waste his time talking to primitive creatures like that instead of swimming away from the pyroclastic flow?”

  Everyone considered the conundrum.

  “I’ve got it!” Nick exclaimed. “Noah speaking to them implies they’re intelligent.”

  “Holy Mother of Mary!” Neo whistled. “Those butt-uglies are smart?”

  “That’s the only explanation that makes sense,” Gabriella agreed.

  “Yeah, and if any of you have any doubts, look at the creatures’ faces. Their expressions project understanding, not frustration.”

  With their Noah hypothesis firmly established, Nick told Geronimo to restart the satellite video. All but one of the flyers advanced to the breaking waves and spread their substantial wings. Nick’s stomach tightened. Noah sprinted toward the waiting creature with the plummeting pyroclastic flow nearly reaching the beach. The creature hugged Noah to its shimmering body and took flight mere moments before the murderous flow merged with the Pacific swells, creating clouds of angry steam.

  Geronimo zoomed out and lowered the magnification of the area before resuming the video.

  Neo’s eyes bulged. “There they are! They’re flying north.”

  “To where?” Nick muttered, more to himself than the others.

  Crow raised his hand. “Patience, White Man.”

  “I’ll bet they’re headed to a nearby island,” Gabriella speculated.

  The winged creatures ignored the closest landmass and continued north.

  Neo tapped the uppermost part of the screen. “See that island in the distance with the big-ass volcano smack dab in the middle of it?”

  “We see it. Are you suggesting that’s their target island?” Nick asked.

  “Yeah—for one important reason. A volcano makes a perfect hiding spot if you’re an alien species looking to avoid detection. It’s like your secretive dad’s underground castle beneath Lake Griffin.”

  Nick nodded as he analyzed the flyers’ speed and direction. “How old is this footage, Geronimo?”

  “Five hours, sixteen minutes, and thirty-seven seconds and counting,” he replied drolly.

  Gabriella tilted her head toward the screen. “Look! Neo was right! They’re gliding down into the volcano.” She slapped the big man a high-five.

  “Geronimo, enlarge the volcano opening,” Crow commanded, but the tighter vista yielded nothing of value—only rocky terrain, clinging mist, and deep shadows.

  “Did you notice their flight path never wavered?” Neo noted.

  “Yeah, I did,” Gabriella replied. “I was surprised they didn’t make an effort to disguise their destination.”

  “Which is bad news for Noah,” Nick remarked glumly.

  The others were puzzled by his statement.

  “Why bad news?” Gabriella pressed.

  “If we saw Noah’s escape on this military satellite feed, then you can bet your last dollar our Pentagon traitors watched it, too, and they’ve got a five hour head start on us.”

  “We’ll never make it there before they do if we have to charter a private plane,” Neo pointed out.

  “Noah’s life’s at stake!” Crow exclaimed. “We have to get to that island before those murderers.”

  “Riai Island,” Geronimo corrected him in his know-it-all voice.

  The computer’s discourteous interruption annoyed Crow. “What’s so damned important about the island’s name that you felt the urge to correct me?”

  “The island’s name, Riai, is Tahitian for seized with fear,” Geronimo stated flatly. “It means that…”

  “…it’s the real Terror Island!” Gabriella gasped.

  Neo fell back in his chair and folded his massive arms across his chest. “Looks like Noah has jumped from the frying pan into the fire.”

  “No kidding,” Nick murmured, gaping blankly over Neo’s shoulder.

  Gabriella squeezed her fiancé’s arm. “There’s only one way to get there fast.”

  “I know, and I’m weighing the pros and cons of using it, among other things.”

  “And?”

  Crow stared curiously at the couple. “What in God’s name are you two discussing?”

  Gabriella was fit to be tied. “Magic.”

  “Magic? So why not use it, Nick? We’re talking about saving your cousin’s life here,” Crow barked.

  Nick shook his head. “That’s not my main worry.”

  “Then what is, dear?” Gabriella asked.

  “I’m uncertain about transforming into my new alter ego again. Hell, I don’t even know the extent of my new powers.”

  “That is a dilemma,” Gabriella agreed. “That guy creeps me out.”

  “So what you’re basically telling us, Nick, is that you’re willing to sacrifice your cousin for a little feel good?” Neo summarized angrily. “Because if that’s the way the land lays, you’re not the Nick Bellamy I’ve known and respected over the past several years. And furthermore, if you don’t go the magic route, it appears to me that you’ve already changed—into a gutless wimp!” The big man stood, roughly pushed his chair away, and tramped out of the restaurant.

  Crow turned to Gabriella. “Would you tell our waitress to make Neo and my dinner orders to go? When they’re ready, we’ll come back and pay for them.” With that, he stormed out of the restaurant, too.

  Gabriella looked understandingly at Nick. “Forget what I said about your alter ego giving me the creeps. Just change and go save your cousin.”

  Nick remained speechless.

  “Okay, have it your way. I’m leaving, too.” Gabriella slammed her diamond engagement ring on the table beside his hand.

  “Hey, there’s no need to…”

  “Yes, there is. I can’t marry a coward.” Gabriella spun brusquely and joined the others in front of the Lamplighter.

  49

  Nick picked up Crow’s laptop and told their waitress, Sarah, to cancel his order and make the others to go. He then asked her if he could use the back door to leave, and she showed him to the kitchen exit. Nick paid for the meals and told her to keep the change for her trouble. Nick checked that the alley was vacant before teleporting himself to the Wolfe mansion’s front porch.

  He greeted Hefe with a wave. “Hot day.”

  “Si,” he agreed, wiping his forehead with a red-checked bandana. The gardener was accustomed to witnessing magic and didn’t give Nick’s sudden appearance a second thought.

  “I don’t feel too well, so I think I’ll go upstairs and grab a quick catnap.”

  “Good idea, Senor,” Hefe said and returned to weeding the vast ornamental garden bordering the mansion.

  Nick climbed the stairs to the bedroom he shared with Gabriella and ordered the house to shield the bedroom from any prying eyes or ears—magical or otherwise. Steel shutters instantly folded over the two front windows and the single side window, and the beautiful plaster walls became dense insulation. When the house finished, Nick opened the laptop and connected with Geronimo.

  “Brilliant plan, by the way,” the computer stated flatly. “I take it the others are killing time downtown until you leave Duneden.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Thanks. Now listen up; we don’t have much time. I need more information before I pay Riai Island a visit. The last thing I need is to walk fat, dumb, and happy into an ambush—especially with aliens hanging around there.”

  “I shall endeavor to get you the data you require.”

  “Good. First, I need a complete report on Donna Lake.”

  There was a momentary pause while Geronimo hacked the information from various data sources. The laptop screen abruptly filled with pages of text.

  “Condense this information to activities associated with outside ven
dors or Scripps competitors,” he ordered.

  Another pause. The text changed on the screen.

  “It seems,” Geronimo began, “that Donna Lake was a loner who avoided Scripps social events and employee golf and bowling leagues. She very seldom dated, was never married, and had no children. Her one sibling, a brother who was a year older, died in a terrible car accident two years ago. That same crash also killed his wife and three children. Her parents died ten and three years ago. The father died of pancreatic cancer, and the mother of a heart attack. Both were fairly young.”

  “Who did she hang with?”

  “Her work colleagues, including your aunt, Sue Wright. There have been pictures of them on other people’s Facebook accounts the past four years depicting them in front of a theater, at malls, and the annual Scripps employee picnics,” Geronimo reported.

  “That’s odd. I wonder why Donna palled around with my aunt. I thought they would have seen enough of each other at work,” Nick submitted.

  “Perhaps Donna Lake had an ulterior motive and spent time with your aunt to subtly persuade her to cooperate with Lake’s schemes later on, like shipping Noah off to Terror Island under the guise of a reality show contestant. There may have been other instances of deceit, but I am only speculating at this point. I have no substantial evidence.”

  “No problem. Let’s backtrack to the Oracle television network. Is it independently owned, or is it part of a corporate umbrella?”

  “I researched Oracle earlier. The network is owned by the Chrysalis International Corporation, which is privately held by a reclusive billionaire named Ulrich Strasser. The corporation is a military supplier of advanced weapons systems, such as rocket launchers and next generation guns that fire sound waves instead of bullets. It is rumored that Chrysalis is on the verge of obtaining a huge military contract for super advanced weapons, but I cannot hack through the corporation’s firewall to locate the contract details. I have tried several times.”

  “Don’t sweat it. I’m not concerned with weapons connections at the moment. I’m looking for direct links to aliens or the game show disaster.”