Terminal

by Kathy Reichs

  Enemy.

  Yes, I sent. But we can’t hurt him.

  I added a series of images. A flood of people on Loggerhead. Traps set for her pack. Her family being taken away in cages.

  Leave him to us.

  Whisper hesitated, teeth bared, eyes gleaming.

  Everything teetered on the brink.

  A stab of light arrowed from the sky, knifing across the clearing.

  My head jerked up in surprise. I glimpsed spinning black rotors against a bright moon. Then a familiar low hum broke the stillness.

  “The helicopter!” I screamed.

  The spotlight found me. Blinded me. Rooted me to the ground.

  The chopper circled, its powerful beam never straying from my face.

  My legs locked in terror. I couldn’t move.

  SNUP.

  My flare vanished with a rush of lost energy, wobbling me.

  Whisper peered skyward, startled by this strange intruder.

  Speckman took advantage—flipping to his back, he flexed his legs and kneed the wolf in her chest. Whisper howled and leaped aside. Moving like quicksilver, Speckman barely rose from all fours as he fled into the forest.

  Twin shadows followed at his back.

  The Trinity, slipping through our fingers.

  I stared, frozen, as the helicopter hovered directly above me, its spotlight zeroed on my bloodless face.

  A length of black rope thumped to the ground beside me. Then another.

  Then Ben was there, grabbing my hand and dragging me away. “Tory, run!”

  The wolf pack scattered into the trees. Shelton dragged Hiram free of the cargo net, then the two boys pushed it halfway into the hole for Chance to climb.

  But I was still mired in quicksand, hypnotized by the merciless light.

  Finally, my flight instinct kicked in.

  Clutching Ben’s hand, I raced for the trees.

  Overhead, monkeys screeched and scattered.

  Down below, I ran.

  Panicked, legs hammering, I pounded through the undergrowth.

  Who was that?! How did they find us?

  Shapes loomed in the dark. Trees? Bushes? Without my flare power, I couldn’t tell.

  Heart thumping, I barreled forward in a dead sprint.

  A branch snagged my shoulder and I nearly fell, saved only by Ben’s hand around mine. He steadied me, a solid silhouette in the otherwise featureless dark. A shaft of moonlight caught his eyes, which had reverted to their normal dark brown.

  “You okay?”

  I nodded, ignoring the pain radiating from my shoulder.

  Something heavy crashed through the underbrush beside us. I froze. Made no sound.

  It could be any of them!

  Suddenly, I was pummeled by a wave of déjà vu so powerful it nearly dropped me to my knees. This same wild flight. From the same clearing. Only a short year ago.

  Life can be crazy sometimes.

  “We have to keep moving!” Ben hissed.

  “Go!” Gritting my teeth from the ache in my side. “Back to the boat.”

  Ben nodded, squeezing my hand as we scrambled through the ghostly woods.

  Where were Hi and Shelton? What about Chance? Did he manage to get out of the hole?

  I felt a flash of guilt at leaving him, but saw no other choice.

  The Trinity were somewhere in these trees, too. Bastards. Had they tipped the agents?

  I refused to acknowledge the implications of that helicopter.

  The black ropes, landing in the clearing.

  Faceless killers could be fanning across the island right now. Could be anywhere.

  They found us again. How?

  I mouthed a prayer of thanks that we’d formed a contingency plan. Meet back at the boat, if possible. If not, make for the temporary landing near Tern Point. Ben loved to fish there. We all knew the spot.

  So I trailed Ben through a dense glade, never letting go of his fingers. I sucked in deep breaths. Flaring had wrung me dry. Always did.

  Now I can’t reach the others. Can’t send a message. Damn it.

  We were in trouble.

  No doubting it anymore.

  Packed earth thudded beneath my sneakers.

  “The path,” Ben whispered. “We’re not far from the dock.”

  “Good job. I just hope the others were as lucky.”

  Ben nodded. Together we snuck down to the trail junction, then hurried toward Loggerhead’s pier. I spied our vessel from the top of the rise, and my spirits sank. “Empty.”

  I sensed Ben shrug in the darkness. “Better than loaded with MIBs.”

  “True. What should we do?”

  Ben thought a moment. “I say we go ahead and move Sewee to Tern Point. When the others get here, they’ll know what to do, even if the boat being gone scares them a bit. That way we don’t stand around exposed. The chopper could circle back here at any time. We need to move Sewee somewhere they won’t look.”

  All good points. “Okay. But let’s be careful—this would be an excellent spot for a trap.”

  “I know,” Ben muttered, ear-tucking his hair. “It’s what I’d do.”

  Moving as quietly as possible, we snuck downslope and along the dock. While I untied lines, Ben jumped aboard and fired the engine. I kept every sense on high alert, straining for sounds of pursuit, a glimpse of our friends, or the return of that damned invisible helicopter you couldn’t hear coming. I cursed the loss of my flare powers, knowing how inferior normal human senses were.

  But no one appeared. Nothing flew overhead. I wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad, but Ben was right. We needed to move the boat. The dock was too hot a location.

  As Ben eased Sewee oceanward, bushes shook along the cliff face.

  A pair of red eyes appeared. Stared down at me.

  I opened my mouth to shout for Chance, but the greeting died in my throat.

  A second pair of scarlet orbs appeared by the first. Then a third.

  Not Chance.

  The Trinity had come to watch us depart.

  Something brushed against my mind. A cold touch that sent shivers all over.

  That almost felt like a sending. A Viral touch, but not one . . .

  With a start, I understood. Slammed my defenses into place. The feeling vanished.

  But I knew the score.

  The Trinity had been picking at my thoughts.

  I felt a groundswell of anger, unlike anything I could recall. These stupid, reckless children. Flaunting their flare powers. Playing games. Drawing attention!

  They risked everything, for all of us.

  I nearly screamed at the watchers, before remembering that more dangerous foes were prowling Loggerhead Island that night.

  Instead, I gave them the only salute I could think of.

  Two middle fingers. Held high for emphasis.

  The six fiery orbs winked out at once. Hopefully, they’d died from affront.

  Ben eyed me sideways as he maneuvered from shore. “What in the world are you doing?”

  “Those red-eyed jerks were on the cliff,” I spat, then immediately felt silly. “All I could think of.”

  Ben made an odd huffing sound I couldn’t interpret. For a shocked second, I thought he was furious with me.

  “Nice work, Victoria.” Ben couldn’t hold the laughter inside. “That oughta do it!”

  I flinched, surprised by his reaction. Ben, cracking up at a time like this?

  He had such a full, honest laugh—I wished I heard it more. Infectious, too. I couldn’t help joining in, though mine came out in a low Beavis and Butthead cackle. Which made Ben howl even more.

  In an instant, we were both in stitches at the absurdity of my one-finger salutes. At the insanity of the evening. At everyt
hing. Tears wet my eyes as Sewee bobbed over the surf, circling the southeast corner of the island. It was a release I desperately needed.

  Ben ran a hand through his hair, then sighed deeply. “I love it,” he snickered, steering Sewee through the breakers, keeping our speed to a crawl so the engine made less noise. “I love you, sometimes.”

  Abruptly, his good humor cut off like a guillotine. Ben’s body went rigid. I felt a wave of panic roll from him, as if he’d accidentally triggered a nuclear bomb.

  I experienced a parallel stab of distress. My stomach lurched into my throat, and not because of the rolling ocean swells.

  Did he just . . . what did he mean when. . . .

  Oh crap.

  Ben’s eyes darted to me, then shot back to open water. Even in the semidarkness, I saw a flush of red steal up his neck and into his cheeks.

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Shifted again. Debated going over the side.

  Did he really mean to say he . . . loved me? Like, for real?

  The awkward moment stretched longer than any event in human history.

  He said “sometimes,” which is a definite qualifier. I love Chinese food “sometimes.”

  Mouth opened as I searched for words that might defuse the tension. Came up with nothing. I felt trapped in a nightmare. Balanced on a beam a hundred feet off the ground. Sinking underwater in a sealed car, with no idea how to get out.

  Ben’s lips parted, then worked soundlessly, as if he, too, sought to break the horrible awkwardness. A verbal retreat, or some way to reverse time.

  Is that what I want? For Ben to walk it back?

  A part of me was astounded by the chaos a single four-word utterance could create.

  Ben gulped a breath, seemed to reach a decision. As his mouth opened a second time, all the adrenaline in creation poured into my system.

  “I . . . I was just saying that . . .” He trailed off, then smacked the steering wheel with his palm. Ben squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head sharply as if disgusted by the effort.

  Ben turned. Blasted me with his full attention. “I meant it. I’m not going to act—”

  A light flashed somewhere close by, killing the conversation.

  “We’ve got company!” Ben killed the motor and power, leaving Sewee adrift.

  “Another boat?” I peered skyward. “The helo?”

  “Boat.” Ben’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. “I hope it didn’t see us.”

  I heard the distant whine of an outboard motor. Seconds later, something huge passed overhead. The helicopter, its cabin dark, flew directly toward a cluster of lights bobbing in the water farther offshore.

  “Crap.” Ben’s face knotted with tension.

  He didn’t have to say it.

  The boat and chopper were clearly together.

  Sewee rolled over another wave, drifting closer to the jagged rocks lining Loggerhead’s southern coastline. I worried we might run aground, but Ben seemed unconcerned, so I kept the thought to myself. I focused on the lights appearing and disappearing with each passing swell.

  “The boat’s getting closer,” Ben whispered.

  Then a yellow beam stabbed directly overhead.

  “Down!” I slid from the copilot’s seat onto the deck. Ben slithered down beside me. We lay on our backs, shoulder to shoulder, watching the high-powered spotlight slice the air.

  The engine sounds grew louder. I could barely breathe. The beam swept left to right, no more than an inch above the runabout’s rails. I was sure we’d be spotted at any moment, and this time, there was nowhere to run.

  Ben’s breathing quickened. I felt his biceps tense against my shoulder.

  The whine rose until I was sure the other boat was right alongside us. Voices carried across the water, low and indistinct. My mind raced, debating the merits of capture versus a night swim in the deep, dark Atlantic.

  Then, slowly, the sounds began to fade. The spotlight danced above us one last time, then disappeared. In less than a minute, all was quiet once more.

  I released a breath I didn’t remember holding. Turned to Ben.

  Found him looking at me, face inches from mine on Sewee’s deck.

  Panic flared, white hot, paralyzing me as I lay beside him.

  Our gazes met. I saw fear in his dark brown eyes. Indecision. Doubt.

  Ben went rigid, his chest rising and falling like a bellows. Then something changed. His face relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips.

  Before I could blink, his mouth covered mine.

  We shared a breath. A tingle ran my spine.

  For a moment, I lost all track of time and space.

  Then I pulled back, breathing hard, unsure what either my mind or body were doing.

  Ben’s unsure look returned. Then vanished.

  He pulled me near again, his lips melting into mine. Strong, calloused fingers stroked the side of my face. His smell enveloped me. Earthy. Masculine. Ben.

  Fire rolled through my body.

  So this is what it’s like.

  I broke away again, gasping slightly for breath. Reality crashed home.

  I sat up and scooted a few feet away, rubbing my face with both hands. What was I doing?

  “Ben, I—”

  His hand rose to cut me off. He leaned against the bench, face suddenly serious. “I’m not going to pretend anymore. One way or another, I’m going to say how I feel.” Ben snorted softly. “Make my case.”

  We sat still in the darkness, Sewee rocking gently, the scene dream-like and surreal.

  “You don’t have to make a case.” I stared at my shoes, had no idea where I wanted this conversation to go. “It’s just, things are—”

  “YO!”

  Our heads whipped in the voice’s direction. Ben scrambled to a crouch, scanning the silent bulk of Tern Point, as if just now recalling we were adrift at sea.

  The voice called down again, suddenly familiar. “What, are you guys paddling around the island? I don’t have a boat license, but that seems dumb.”

  “Shut up, Hi!” Ben shouted, with more heat than was necessary. Scowling, he slid behind the controls and fired the engine.

  I scurried to the bow, as far from the captain’s chair as I could manage and stay dry.

  You’ve done it now, Tory Brennan. Better hope there’s a life preserver somewhere.

  A glance back. Ben was watching me, looking for all the world like he had more to say.

  I quickly turned away.

  Nope. Nope nope nope.

  I needed some time to think about this one. Perhaps a decade?

  “Where are we?” I asked, changing the subject.

  Ben must’ve sensed that my “personal” shop was closed for business. “Just below the platform,” he answered flatly. “I’ll pull up to Turtle Beach.” He nodded to a white-sand expanse twenty yards ahead.

  Though I still couldn’t see him, Hi understood. “We’ll meet you down there. Shelton and me, I mean. Haven’t seen Chance.”

  Damn it.

  Where was Chance? Had he gotten out of that hole?

  I thought back to those red eyes watching from the cliffs above the dock.

  That couldn’t have been Chance up there, could it? Not with members of the Trinity.

  Right?

  Ben’s suspicions flashed through my mind. I shoved them away. In fact, I shoved everything to do with Ben away, my defense mechanisms firing on all cylinders.

  As Sewee entered the shallows, Ben leaped into the surf and towed the runabout ashore.

  Hi and Shelton emerged from the forest, looking relieved.

  “Thank God!” Shelton never paused, wading out to Sewee, climbing aboard, and collapsing on the bench. His powers were doused. “I cannot tell you how tired I am of running through these woods!”
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  “Keep it down,” Ben warned. “The chopper bugged out, but there’s a boat, too.”

  Shelton straightened as Hi flopped over the rail. “Boat? What boat?”

  “We think it’s with the helicopter.” I quickly explained what we’d seen at sea.

  Then I thought of what had happened next, and my ears burned. I was sure the truth was plastered across my face, had either Shelton or Hi bothered to look.

  But they were watching the trees.

  “Hear that?” Hi whispered, no longer flaring either.

  “Yep.” Ben was still standing in waist-deep water. “Someone’s coming.”

  Chance emerged from the forest, backpedaling slowly, hands above his head.

  Oh no!

  My blood turned to ice. I waited for black-clad soldiers to follow, guns trained.

  Instead, three sinuous shapes stalked from the understory.

  The smaller two scurried to flank Chance, forcing him to face the largest head on.

  I was first to react. “Whisper, no!”

  I vaulted into the water and struggled toward shore.

  The pack didn’t glance my way. They coiled, eyes locked on the trembling figure.

  Things were about to get very, very bad for Chance Claybourne.

  He threw a desperate look over his shoulder, eyes blazing with red light.

  “Chance, snuff your powers!” I shouted, muscling a path through the shallow water. “Whisper thinks you’re an enemy!”

  As if on cue, Whisper growled. Exposed her gleaming white teeth.

  “Oh crap.” Chance waved his hands, as if trying to persuade the wolf to hear him out. “I’m with you! Promise!” His frame shook, then Chance dropped to a knee, hacking up a lung. “You see?” He wheezed. “No more flare!”

  Whisper bayed loudly.

  I was certain she was about to charge.

  Then Cooper burst from the trees and planted himself between Chance and his mother.

  My wolfdog growled deep in his throat.

  Whisper paused. Cocked her head. Then she barked loudly and jabbed her paws.

  Coop didn’t budge. Barked right back.

  Both animals fell silent. For a few heartbeats, time itself stopped.

  Then Whisper sat back on her haunches. Yapped twice. Coop seemed to stand down as well. He trotted forward and licked his mother’s nose. She nuzzled him back.