With that cryptic message, Eight teleports away. Sarah and I exchange a look, then rush out of the Lecture Hall and into Sandor’s old workshop.
Nine is already there, his arms crossed as he watches the bank of television screens on the wall. They’re all tuned to the same image, a newscast from some local station in South Carolina. Nine pauses the broadcast when we enter, freezing a still image of the gray-haired anchor.
“I turned on some of Sandor’s old programs the other day,” Nine explains. “They scan news feeds for weird shit that might be Loric related.”
“Yeah, Henri had the same thing set up.”
“Uh-huh, typical boring Cêpan stuff, right? Except this popped up tonight.”
Nine restarts the broadcast, the anchor resuming his teleprompter reading.
“Authorities are at a loss to explain the vandalism of a local farmer’s crops early yesterday morning. The prevailing theory is high-school prank, but others have suggested . . .”
I tune out the anchor’s theories as the image switches to an overhead shot of a twisting, mazelike emblem burned into the cornfield. It might look like a juvenile prank to the newscaster, but we recognize it immediately. Burned into those crops with jagged precision is the Loric symbol for Five.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“IF FIVE’S TRYING TO FIND US, THIS IS ABOUT the dumbest damn way possible,” Nine says.
“She could be scared and alone,” counters Marina, softly. “On the run.”
“No Cêpan in their right mind would go burning up crops, so they must be alone. Still . . .” Nine trails off, his brow furrowing. “Wait—what do you mean ‘she’? Five’s a chick?”
Marina rolls her eyes at chick, then shakes her head. “I don’t know. Just a guess.”
“Setting a field on fire seems like a guy thing,” Six puts in.
“I remember Henri reading a story about a girl lifting a car off someone in Argentina,” I say. “We always thought that could be Five.”
“Sounds like a tabloid story to me,” Six counters.
“Guy or girl doesn’t matter,” interrupts Nine, waving at the computer screens. “Scared doesn’t haven’t to mean stupid.”
I find myself agreeing with Nine. Assuming this message is actually from Five and not some elaborate Mogadorian trap, it’s a really bad way to get our attention. Because if we noticed it, then the Mogadorians definitely did too.
We’ve all crowded into Sandor’s workshop. Nine has paused the newscast on the overhead shot of the Loric symbol while we figure out what to do next. I have the macrocosm from my Chest open, the holographic Loric solar system floating peacefully in the space over the table.
“He must not have his Chest open,” I say. “This would change into the globe if he did.”
Eight stands next to me, clutching a red communication crystal he pulled from his chest. It’s the same one we found in Nine’s and used to try sending Six a message when she was in India.
“Are you out there, Five?” Eight speaks into the crystal. “If you are, you should probably stop setting things on fire.”
“I think he can only hear you if his Chest is open,” I explain. “In which case, he’d show up on the macrocosm.”
“Ah,” says Eight, lowering the crystal. “They couldn’t have packed us cell phones?”
Meanwhile, Nine has plugged our locater tablet into one of Sandor’s computers. The newscast blips out of existence, replaced by a map of Earth. There’s a cluster of pulsing blue dots in Chicago—that’s us. Further south, there’s another dot, moving extremely fast from the Carolinas towards the middle of the country. Nine looks over at me.
“He’s made a lot of miles since I checked on him this morning. First time he’s come in from the islands, too.”
Six points at the screen, tracing a line back to where the crops were burned. “It makes sense. Whoever it is, they’re on the run.”
“They’re moving really fast, though,” puts in Sarah. “Could they be taking a plane somewhere?”
The dot on the screen suddenly takes an abrupt northward turn, crossing through Tennessee.
“I don’t think planes move like that,” says Six, her brow furrowing.
“Super speed?” Eights asks.
We watch as the blue dot crosses right through Nashville, never slowing down or changing directions.
“There’s no way they just zipped through a city at that speed on a straight line,” Six says.
“Son of a bitch,” growls Nine. “I think this idiot can fly.”
“We’ll have to wait until they stop moving,” I say. “Maybe then they’ll open their Chest and we can send a message. We’ll watch in shifts. We need to get to Five before the Mogs do.”
Marina volunteers to take the first shift. I linger in the workshop after the others have gone. Even with all this excitement about Five, I haven’t forgotten about our other problems, specifically Ella and her nightmares.
“I talked to Ella today,” I begin. “In her nightmares, Setrákus Ra asks her if she’s opened some letter. Any idea what that could mean?”
Marina looks away from where Five’s pulsing beacon cruises across Oklahoma. “Crayton’s letter, maybe?”
“Her Cêpan?”
“Back in India, right before he died, Crayton gave her a letter.” Marina frowns. “With everything that’s happened, I almost forgot about it.”
“She hasn’t read it?” I ask, feeling a little exasperated. “We’re fighting a war here; it could be important.”
“I don’t think it’s that easy for her, John,” Marina says, levelly. “Those are Crayton’s last words. Reading it would be like admitting that he’s really gone and not coming back.”
“But he is gone,” I reply quickly. Too quickly. I pause, thinking back to when Henri was killed. He’d been like a father to me and, even more than that, he was the only constant in a life spent constantly on the run. For me, the idea of Henri was almost like the idea of home—wherever he was, that’s where he was safe. Losing him was like having the world ripped out from under me. I was older than Ella when it happened, too. I shouldn’t expect her to be able to just brush it off.
I sit down next to Marina, sighing. “Henri—my Cêpan—he left me a letter too. He gave it to me when he was dying. We were on the road for days before I could bring myself to read it.”
“See? It’s not so easy. Plus, if Setrákus Ra showed up in my dreams and told me to do something, I’d definitely do the opposite.”
I nod. “I get it. I do. She needs to grieve. I don’t mean to sound heartless. When all this is over, when we win, we’ll have time to mourn the people we’ve lost. But until then, we need to gather all the information we can and find anything that might work to our advantage.” I wave my hand at the screen with Five’s location. “We have to stop just waiting around for the next crisis and start acting.”
Marina thinks about what I’ve said, gazing at the holographic macrocosm of Earth we’ve left open just in case Five should open his or her Chest. This is probably what she was expecting to hear from me this morning when she gently asked if I had a plan for us. I didn’t then—and I don’t exactly now—but the first step definitely has to be figuring out what we have to work with, and Ella is key to that.
“I’ll talk to Ella,” she says. “But I won’t force her to do anything.”
I hold up my hands. “I’m not asking you to. You guys are close. Maybe you could nudge her along?”
“I’ll try,” she says, at last.
Eight appears in the doorway of the workshop, holding two cups of tea. Marina’s face lights up when she sees him, although she quickly looks away, suddenly acting really interested in the macrocosm. I notice a blush creeping up her cheeks.
“Hey,” Eight says, setting down the tea. “Sorry. I, uh, only made the two cups.”
“It’s cool,” I reply, catching a meaningful look from Eight that suddenly makes me feel like a third wheel. “I was just leaving.”
I stand up and
Eight takes my seat in front of the macrocosm. Before I’m even out the door, Eight whispers some joke to Marina that immediately gets her giggling. I’ve been so focused on Sarah and my agonizing battle planning that I hadn’t put much thought into how much time Marina and Eight have been spending together. That’s good. All of us deserve a little happiness, considering what we’re facing.
It’s almost dawn when Eight comes to our room, waking me and Sarah. The others are already gathered in the workshop. Six sits in front of the computers, Marina next to her.
“Another brain-dead maneuver from our missing compadre,” Nine says by way of greeting. He’s standing on the wall using his antigravity legacy. Ella is sitting Indian style on his back, wrapped up in a blanket. I arch an eyebrow at her.
“Did you sleep at all?”
“Don’t want to,” Ella says.
“She’s been helping me with my strength training,” announces Nine. He hunches his shoulders, jostling Ella. She almost falls off his back, but laughs—a rare laugh—and hangs on. She slaps his back in annoyance. “Didn’t even feel that.”
Ignoring the others, Six turns to me. “Five stopped moving about an hour ago. Then started up again.”
I glance at the tablet’s screen. Five’s beacon has cruised along west since the last time I looked in. It now hovers around the eastern border of Arkansas.
“The genius stopped just long enough to send us another message,” grouses Nine.
Marina narrows her eyes at Nine. “Do we really need to be critiquing what Five does? He or she is probably alone and scared.”
“Honey, I spent months in a Mogadorian jail cell for my stupidity. I’ve earned my right to color commentate—ow.”
Ella slaps Nine on the back again and he shuts up. I stay focused on Six and the computer screen.
“Just tell me what happened.”
“One hour ago, this was posted in the comment section of a news story about the crops burning,” says Six, thankfully keeping it matter-of-fact. She opens up a window and drags it over to where we can all see it on the big screen.
Anonymous writes: Five seeking 5. Are you out there? Need to meet. Will be with the monsters in Arkansas. Find me.
“What does it mean?” asks Sarah. “It’s like a riddle.”
Six clicks open a web browser, bringing up the cheesy-looking website of something called the Boggy Creek Monster. “We found this on Google. It’s a dumb little tourist attraction in Arkansas called the Monster Mart.”
“You think Five is headed there?”
“We won’t know for sure until he stops moving,” Six answers, gesturing at the blue dot on the tablet. “But I’d bet yes.”
“Does he think the Mogadorians don’t have Google?” Nine spits.
“Speaking from experience,” Six says, “the Mogadorians monitor the internet like hawks. If we’re seeing this, then you can bet they’ve seen it too and are trying to figure it out. They’ll likely trace his IP address first and waste some time looking for his location, which is good because we can tell from this that he’s moved on from wherever he sent the message. Even so, they’ll figure it out eventually.”
“Then we better move fast,” I say.
“Hell yeah,” Nine says, hopping down from the wall and catching Ella as she tumbles after him. He sets her down and cracks his knuckles. “Finally, some freaking action.”
It’s like something in me clicks and, after days of overthinking our position, a plan just comes spilling out of me. “Our advantage here is that we know Five’s exact location. Hopefully, that gives us a head start on the Mogs. We need to be fast and we need to be sneaky. Six and I will go to Arkansas. With her invisibility, we should be able to sneak Five out without tipping off the Mogadorians. We’ll bring Bernie Kosar, too.”
“Oh, the dog gets to go?” Nine says flatly.
“His shape shifting will make it easy for us to scout ahead,” I counter. “And he can make it back to you guys if something goes wrong. If we’re captured, Eight, I expect to see you teleporting our violent friend Nine here into my cell within twenty-four hours. And, if the unthinkable happens—”
“It won’t,” Six interrupts. “We’ve got this.”
I look around the room. “Does everyone agree?”
Eight and Marina nod, their faces grim but confident. Ella gives me a small smile from her spot next to Marina. Nine doesn’t look too thrilled about being left out of the mission, but he grunts his approval. Sarah says nothing, looking away.
“Good,” I say. “We should be back in two days max. Six, get whatever you need and let’s head out.”
It’s taken a few days, but for the first time, I actually feel like a leader.
Of course, that leadership feeling doesn’t last all that long. I’m back in my room, stuffing a backpack with a change of clothes and some things from my Chest: my dagger, my bracelet, a healing stone. Sarah comes in carrying a holstered pistol from Nine’s armory and wordlessly stuffs it in a backpack of her own, covering it with a change of clothes.
“What’re you doing?” I ask.
“I’m coming with you,” she says, and gives me a defiant look like she’s expecting an argument. I shake my head in disbelief.
“That wasn’t the plan.”
Sarah shrugs her backpack on and faces me, her hands on her hips. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t my plan to fall in love with an alien either, but sometimes plans change.”
“This could be dangerous,” I tell her. “We’re trying to beat the Mogadorians to Five’s location, but we don’t know that we will for sure. We’re going to have to use stealth and Six can only turn two people invisible at once.”
She shrugs. “Six says we can just bring the Xithi-whatever. That stone. She can use it to copy her powers.”
My eyebrows shoot up. It’s a good idea. But I’m more interested in something else she said. “You already talked to Six?”
“Yeah, she’s cool with it,” Sarah replies. “She understands. There’s nothing about this life that isn’t dangerous anymore. I’m getting used to the idea of my boyfriend fighting an intergalactic war, but I’ll never get used to just watching from the sidelines and hoping everything turns out okay.”
“But it’s safe on the sidelines,” I answer weakly, even though I already know this is a losing argument.
“I’d feel safer being with you. After all that’s happened, I don’t want to be apart anymore, John. Whatever dangers you have to face, I want to be by your side.”
“I don’t want to be apart either, but—” Before I can mount any further protest, Sarah steps forward and shuts me up with a quick kiss. It’s really not fair that she can do that during an argument.
“Just stop there,” she says, smiling at me. “You’ve done the whole chivalrous routine, okay? It’s cute, I like it, but it’s not changing my mind.”
I sigh. I suppose part of being a good leader is knowing when to accept defeat. I guess I should grab the Xitharis stone out of my Chest too.
Nine rides the elevator down with us to the parking garage. I can tell he’s still fuming, even more so now that he realizes Sarah is coming along for the mission.
“We’re leaving the tablet here in case something goes wrong and you end up needing to track us,” I tell Nine. “Hopefully, Five stays put for a while. If we can’t find him once we’re in Arkansas, we’ll be in touch for an update.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Nine replies, shooting a sidelong look at Sarah. “This is starting to look less like a rescue mission and more like you going on a leisurely road trip with two hot chicks,” Nine grumbles.
Sarah rolls her eyes. I glare at Nine. “It’s not like that. You know we need you here, in case something happens.”
“Yeah, I’m backup,” he snorts. “Johnny, do I have to start dating you to get some action around here?”
Sarah winks at him. “It might help.”
Nine looks me over. “Ugh. Not worth it.”
Six and Bernie Kosar are already
waiting for us downstairs. Nine shows us to the row reserved for Sandor’s extensive car collection, eventually pulling the tarp off a silver Honda Civic. It’s the least flashy vehicle left in Sandor’s collection; we don’t want to be attracting any unnecessary attention while we’re on the road. BK immediately bounds into the passenger seat, excited to get going.
“It’s fast,” Nine explains. “Sandor outfitted all of these in case we needed to move ass in a hurry.”
“Does it have nitrous?” Sarah asks.
“What do you know about nitrous, sweetheart?” Nine replies.
Sarah shrugs. “I’ve seen Fast and Furious. Show me how it works. I’ve always wanted to drive something really fast.”
“Well, all right,” says Nine, grinning at me. “Maybe your girl does have some uses, John-boy.”
While Nine shows Sarah the controls inside the Civic, I join Six at the trunk, where we load our gear. I’m still feeling blindsided that Sarah’s coming along with us, and apparently I’ve got Six to blame for that.
“You’re mad at me,” she says, before I can even start in.
“I’d appreciate a heads up the next time you invite my girlfriend along on a dangerous mission.”
Six groans, slamming the trunk closed and rounding on me. “Oh please, John. She wanted to come along. She can think for herself.”
“I know she can,” I whisper back, not wanting Sarah to overhear. “Nine wanted to come along too. We have to consider what’s best for the group.”
“You don’t want her feeling like dead weight, do you? This is a good way to show her that she’s not.”
“Wait. Dead weight?” I think back to my conversation with Sarah in the Lecture Hall. Those were the exact words she used. “Were you eavesdropping on us?”
Six looks a little guilty at being busted, but more than anything she looks increasingly angry with me, her eyes flashing. “So what? I thought you might finally grow a pair and tell her that we kissed.”
“Why would I do that?” I snap, struggling to keep my voice low.
“Because the longer you put it off the more awkward it gets, and I’m getting sick of it? Because she deserves—”
The Fall of Five (I Am Number Four) Page 5
