Restitution (The Alpha Drive Book 3)

by Kristen Martin

  She pulled the mug away from her face and looked at him with an amused expression. “Mine too, although I don’t think I’ve ever heard a grown man admit to it.”

  “I’m confident in my manhood.”

  She spit the steaming liquid back into the mug, then burst out laughing.

  “Oh, I . . .,” he stammered, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t,” she said as she tried to end her laughing spell.

  He smiled, then said, “It’s nice to hear you laugh again.”

  She met his gaze, taking another sip of her cocoa. “It feels good, too. I can’t remember the last time I had a good laugh.”

  “Happy to be of service, Ms. Parker.”

  She rolled her eyes before playfully punching him in the shoulder. “Well,” she said as she surveyed the living room, “this was a bust, wasn’t it?”

  “Not necessarily.” He raised his mug into the air. “We got cocoa and miniature marshmallows out of it.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments before she shifted to a different subject. “My mom sure knew how to hide things. I just wish her journals weren’t hidden so well.” The flames crackled and popped in the fireplace in response.

  He kept his eyes on the fire, then turned to face her, his eyes wide. “Hey, Em?”

  “Hmm?” she said absentmindedly as she swirled the brown liquid in circles.

  “Does this cabin have an attic?”

  “I think so. Why?”

  But before she could say another word, he was rushing upstairs, his empty mug wobbling on the table. She set her mug down and followed him upstairs. He’d already pulled the string that unfolded the ladder and had disappeared up into the darkness.

  “Should I get a flashlight?” she called up into the hollow space.

  “I have my phone,” he called back.

  With a shrug, she began to climb the rungs, poking her head into the blackness as she reached the top. She strained her eyes as they focused on a dim light at the far end of the attic. Pulling herself up into the damp space, she crawled along the floor until the ceiling was tall enough for her to half-crouch, half-walk. “What is it?” she called across the open space.

  “You’re not going to believe this . . .”

  As she crept closer, she couldn’t help but think that maybe her eyes were deceiving her. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

  He nodded his head, his mouth agape. “I sure am.”

  There, in the middle of the attic, was a secret door that had been disguised as an ordinary bookshelf.

  “How did you open it?” she breathed.

  “It wasn’t secured. I just pressed on the side and it opened.”

  She stepped into the room with caution. It was no bigger than a walk-in closet, but it was wider than it was long. Along two of the walls sat tables covered in beakers, test tubes, burners, and hotplates. She realized what it was immediately.

  “This is where Alpha One was born.” She turned over her shoulder to look at Torin. “This is where my mother created lethargum and sanaré.”

  He stepped into the room then, running his hand along one of the tables. “The journals have to be in here.”

  She nodded with excitement as she started going through the many papers and notebooks strewn about the secret laboratory. “This is so cool,” she squealed as she thumbed through a black and grey notebook. “I always hoped that my family would have a secret something.” She gazed around at the small space. “And here it is.”

  “Hey, I think I found something,” he said, his voice muffled as he pulled a large box from underneath one of the tables. On the side of the box, in thick black marker, were the symbols: α1.

  “Alpha One,” Emery breathed. “Torin, you found it!” She carefully broke the seal on the top of the box, taking a deep breath before opening the flaps. They both peered inside, heads hovering above the contents. Four leather-bound notebooks lay at the bottom.

  She grabbed the one on top with both hands, blowing off the dust that had accumulated over the years. “Okay, mom,” she said as she turned to the first page. “Don’t let us down. We’re ready for some answers.”

  23

  The excitement in Emery’s eyes was contagious as she flipped through the many pages of her mother’s journals. Torin had suggested that they bring the boxes downstairs to the living room, where, subsequently, there was better lighting, to divide and conquer. He sat next to her, two fresh mugs of cocoa sitting idly on the coffee table as they devoured the contents of the journals.

  “There are so many drawings and formulations,” she murmured in awe. “This is a goldmine.”

  He nodded in agreement, even though he really had no idea what he was looking at. I’m a hacker, not a chemist. Even so, the entries were intriguing.

  “Look here,” she said as she pointed to a drawing of a capsule. “It’s almost like she could see into the future. Somehow, she knew she needed to create something in addition to the liquid version.”

  “And thank the heavens she did, otherwise we probably wouldn’t be sitting here at this very moment.”

  He could see that she was getting teary-eyed, so he quickly shifted her attention to something else. “Hey, this looks like it could be something,” he said, pointing out a page in the back of the first journal. At the top of the page was the word HEALING, followed by numerous indecipherable drawings and equations.

  She grabbed the notebook from him, her eyes scanning the page. “Zagume. I’ve heard that word before.”

  “Really? Where? It sounds like gibberish to me.”

  “I can’t remember exactly.” She left the couch and returned to a pile of photo albums that were strewn out over the rug. “Zagume,” she said again.

  He watched as she flipped through a few photo albums, her forehead creasing as she tried to remember.

  “How can I help?”

  “Shhh,” she hushed. “Wait. I think . . .”

  He kept silent, waiting for her to continue.

  She slapped a hand to her forehead. “It’s sap! Sap that has healing properties.”

  He regarded her with a confused expression. “Sap?”

  She bounced up from the rug. “Yeah. My mom used to take us camping in Prescott, which is about two hours from here. On one of the trips, my sister and I decided to go exploring, even though mom had told us not to.” She paused, smiling at the memory. “Long story short, I ran through a patch of poison oak and my leg instantly broke out in a rash. My mom brought me over to a random group of trees near the campsite, explaining that the sap from those trees, called zagume, had healing properties. She tapped the tree and harvested some of the sap, then placed it on my rash. It disappeared almost immediately.”

  “Do you think it could be one of the ingredients?”

  She looked at him with determined eyes. “It has to be. I mean it has healing properties, and that’s what sanaré is all about.”

  He rubbed his hands together, glad that they were finally getting somewhere. “Do you remember where that campsite is? I mean, if we went there, would you remember the group of trees?”

  She bit her lower lip as she considered this. “I’m not sure. I mean, it was a long time ago, but I know someone who will. She went to the same site more than I did with her own family.”

  He tilted his head. “Who?”

  Emery flashed a smile. “My best friend, Riley.”

  After making four calls to her best friend with no answer, Torin could tell Emery felt defeated. “I don’t know why she’s not answering,” she said as she bit a hangnail from her thumb. “I hope nothing happened to her.”

  “I’m sure she’s holding up just fine,” he soothed. “If she’s anything like you, she’s a fighter.”

  Her lips curled upward, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  How can I make her feel better?

  Ever since he’d known her, she’d constantly bee
n faced with the most challenging of times. First, with the Alpha Drive, then her disastrous break-up with Anthony, then the deaths of Rhea, Mason, and now, her mother. If it had been anyone else, their spirit would have been broken by now. But not Emery. She was stronger than anyone he’d ever met.

  “Do you want me to try calling her? Or use my phone?”

  As soon as he said the words, Emery’s phone buzzed. Her eyes lit up like the fourth of July. “Hello? Riley?”

  He nodded as she waved and excused herself from the living room and walked into the kitchen. As much as he didn’t want to eavesdrop, he couldn’t help it. He was a hacker—eavesdropping was just a part of his nature. He couldn’t hear much though, and she almost caught him leaning as she made her way back to the living room. The thought made his cheeks burn.

  Her voice drew nearer. “She’s going to meet us in Prescott, at the campsite.”

  Unsure whether or not his cheeks had returned to their normal shade, he kept his head lowered, pretending to be engrossed in an article on his holopad. “That’s cool,” he said as nonchalantly as he could manage.

  She swiped her hand across the holopad. “Right now, Torin. We need to get moving. She’s probably already there.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know we were going now.” He grabbed his things and followed her out the door, a harsh wind blowing across their faces as they made their way across the snowy front lawn to the platform.

  “Ready?” he asked as he stepped onto the T-Port and extended his hand out to her.

  She took his hand and nodded. “Ready.”

  Mere seconds later, they arrived in chilly, but not snowy, Prescott, Arizona. Enormous trees towered over them, making Torin feel as though he were the size of an ant. Sure, Chicago was notorious for its giant skyscrapers, but they didn’t even compare to the height and girth of these trees. “Wow,” he breathed as he stepped further into the forest. “Now that’s a tree.”

  A high-pitched squeal echoed throughout the forest. He cringed, watching as Emery ran toward a girl of her exact same height with blonde hair. They exchanged a quick greeting that he didn’t understand—girl code, or whatever it was called—then walked over to him.

  “Torin, this is my best friend, Riley. Riley, this is Torin.”

  Riley flashed a toothy grin. “So, you’re the infamous Torin?”

  Infamous? He gulped, wishing his eavesdropping had gone a little smoother at the cabin. “I’m not sure about infamous, but—”

  “Oh, please!” Riley exclaimed. “Emery filled me in. If it hadn’t been for you, we’d all still be trapped in Dormance.”

  He bobbed his head as he weighed her statement. She sure caught on fast. How long had her phone conversation with Emery been? Five minutes?

  “So,” Riley said as she clapped her hands, “something about journals and saving the world . . . what exactly are we doing here, of all places?”

  Emery shifted her gaze from Torin to Riley, then back to him.

  She hasn’t told Riley about Sandra’s passing yet.

  “Riley, there’s something I didn’t mention over the phone,” Emery started.

  Her friend’s expression grew serious. “Oh no. Is everything okay?”

  “Not exactly . . .”

  It was then that he noticed something as Riley brushed a stray hair from her face. Her hands . . . are grey. He glanced at Emery and, from the look on her face, could tell she’d noticed it too.

  Riley sensed the discomfort in their stares. “Oh, is this what you’re looking at?” She held up her hands, wiggling her fingers in front of her face. “My skin’s been slightly discolored ever since I woke up from Dormance, but it’s gotten worse over the past couple of weeks.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Emery swallow. Everyone around her is either falling ill or dying. Except for me.

  Emery had always referred to Riley as her rock, her support system, but now Riley was also sick, and showing the same symptoms that Emery was.

  “Don’t worry. We’re going to fix all of this,” he reassured as he stepped forward and placed a hand on Emery’s shoulder. Even though he was shaking on the inside, the words sounded convincing enough.

  “I’m just going to come right out and say it.” Emery looked down at her gloved hands, then gazed back up, making direct eye contact with her best friend. “Riley, my mom passed away.”

  Riley pressed a hand to her mouth as she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then opened them again. Tears began to slide down her cheeks. “Em, I had no idea. I’m so sorry. You know she was like a mother to me.”

  Emery’s eyes dropped as she nodded her head. “I know,” she whispered. “Some days, I still can’t believe it.”

  “How? How did this happen?”

  Emery removed her gloves, then held up her hands, the same grey-tinged skin staring them all in the face. “Because of Novak. Because of Dormance. Because of lethargum.”

  Torin sat on the outskirts of their conversation, not wanting to interrupt, but he couldn’t help it. He could see Emery starting to struggle with her words. After a moment of awkward silence, he chimed in. “Sandra kept journals. Emery and I tore her house apart looking for them, but we came up empty-handed. She had the brilliant idea to go to her family’s cabin—”

  “Sandra’s favorite place,” Riley interrupted. “Smart.” She smiled at Emery.

  “Exactly. Sure enough, we found the journals at the cabin. The first clue for the sanaré formulation brought us here. We’re looking for something called . . .” He stopped, looked at Emery for the answer.

  “Zagume.”

  As she said the word, Riley’s face lit up. “The healing sap. I remember.”

  Those words were music to his ears.

  “Do you remember the group of trees?” Emery pressed. “And where they might be in the forest?”

  Riley hesitated. “I do, but . . .”

  “But what?”

  She crinkled her nose. “Oh, Em. You’re not going to like this.”

  Emery looked at Torin, then back at her friend. “I think I know what you’re going to say.”

  The girls continued to look at one another, the expressions on their faces growing more dismal with each passing second. A thick fog of tension hung in the air.

  “Well,” Torin said slowly, not wanting to come off as impatient, “can one of you maybe say it out loud so that we’re all on the same page?”

  Riley sighed. “The site that held the zagume trees was one of the first spots I came back to when I woke up from Dormance.” She lowered her gaze. “It’s been bulldozed. There’s nothing left.”

  Emery sucked in a breath, then turned to Torin. If there had been any semblance of hope in her eyes, he could see now that it had completely vanished.

  Well, shit.

  24

  Emery followed Riley through the desolate campsite, the ground still fresh with dozer tracks. It was hard to believe the Parks Service would ever destroy any part of the Prescott National Forest. After all, it was supposed to be a preserved site. But sure enough, someone with either a lot of money or a lot of power had gotten their way.

  Torin trailed closely behind her, his feet dragging along the rugged surface. She could hear the leaves crunching underneath their shoes as they ventured deeper into the thicket. About a mile ago, she’d noticed she was feeling different—almost drained of energy—but she’d decided to keep it to herself so as to not alarm her friends. She had to keep going, no matter the cost. Her mother deserved at least that much.

  She stopped mid-step as something caught her eye. A few feet ahead were a dozen bases of trees. Trees that had once produced zagume. Trees that had healed her of her poison oak all those years ago. They’d been reduced to nothing but stumps. Her hands balled into fists at the sight. Everything good is being taken away.

  She knelt, the palm of her hand grazing the base of one of the trees. Sawdust lay scattered off to the side. She p
inched at the remains with her thumb and index finger, feeling the fresh grains as they slid against her fingertips. “This happened recently,” she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else.

  Torin knelt beside her, imitating her movements, then nodded, as if he’d come to the same conclusion. “There might still be some fresh sap in the base of the tree. If we hurry, maybe we can pull some.”

  Emery eyed the tree warily. “But how are we going to do that?”

  It was then Riley decided to pop into their conversation, unannounced. In her hands she held a silver object Emery had never seen before. “It’s a heated drilltap,” she said, as if this were common knowledge.

  “What’s a drilltap?” Torin asked, looking just as confused as Emery.

  “It’s a drill and tree tap in one. This one is considered a premium tap because it has heat rays built into it that warm up the sap during the cooler months.”

  Emery looked at her best friend, her mouth agape. “Where did you get this? And why do you have it?”

  A sly grin spread across her face. “Your mom actually gave it to me two years ago, as a Christmas present.”

  A small smile tugged at the corners of Emery’s mouth as she shook her head in disbelief. “That’s my mom for you. Always looking out.”

  Torin gave her a playful punch in the shoulder. “Come on, that’s pretty incredible. It’s almost like your mom knew this all along—that lethargum would make people ill, that we’d find the journals, that we’d enlist Riley’s help—”

  “Let me stop you right there,” Emery cut in. “My mother was a chemist, not a fortune teller. She couldn’t see into the future.”

  He shrugged. “I’m just saying. It’s pretty amazing.”

  “It’s a coincidence. That’s all.” But as much as Emery wanted to believe the words, something told her it wasn’t coincidence at all—that her mother had somehow known that all of this would happen. Trying to shake the unsettling thought, she turned her attention back to Riley. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s tap these trees.”