by R. D. Brady
“And where is that?”
“Dulce, New Mexico.”
Greg’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “That place exists, too?”
Tilda nodded. “It was created in the 80s. One of many DUMBs created back then.”
“Dumb?” Maeve asked.
“Deep Underground Military Base,” Greg said.
“So you think Alvie’s in an underground base?”
“Yes.”
“Why there?” Chris asked.
Tilda hesitated. “I’ve learned that Martin Drummond has been made the new head of D.E.A.D., and the facility at Dulce has just been declared a D.E.A.D. facility.”
Maeve shivered at the name.
Greg slumped back in his chair. “So Alvie and your buddy Agaren are in a federally protected facility sitting underneath a mountain.”
Maeve looked around at the serious looks on everyone’s face. Oh God. How are we going to do this? “How many levels deep does the facility go?”
“Seven. It links up with the underground tunnels Greg just mentioned.” Tilda paused. “Do you guys know about the tunnels?”
The tunnels—giant tunnels far below the Earth that linked military bases along the western portion of the United States. Maeve pictured the last time she’d been in one. She, Chris, Alvie and the triplets had been in a desperate race through the tunnels to escape the bombing at 51. She swallowed, her stomach rolling at the memories.
“Yeah. We’re familiar with the tunnels.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
WALSENBURG, COLORADO
Everyone was up and ready to go before Maeve had even opened her eyes. Adam and Tilda had taken off for the safe house near Dulce with Penny and Nadine an hour before she’d awoken.
Last night, they had discussed what the next steps would be. The first step was gaining as much information on Dulce as possible. Tilda said she already had people working on it and resources put into place, although she didn’t elaborate on either. But Maeve at least trusted that she was committed to getting Agaren and Alvie out.
They had all headed to bed shortly thereafter, but Maeve tossed and turned. The U.S. government had been working with aliens and then had taken one of those aliens captive. At the same time, they’d been creating or recreating aliens in their labs. To say the revelations had shattered Maeve’s already tenuous faith in her government was an understatement.
And then there was the immediate problem facing them—Alvie was being held in an underground base hidden under a mountain. How were they ever going to get him out? And even if they managed to rescue him, then what? Where could they possibly hide him and the triplets that would be safe?
Maeve’s thoughts circled around and around in her mind, growing more dire as the night wore on. And it wasn’t until just before dawn that she dropped off to sleep. By the time she’d stumbled down the stairs, her gang was already in the car. Greg handed her a bagel and a coffee and steered her to the backseat of Chris’s car, where the triplets were already sleeping. It was way too early for them to be up.
Maeve polished off her bagel and drank just a little coffee before curling up with her little ones on the backseat.
Two hours later, Maeve’s eyes popped open as Chris hit a particularly deep pothole. He glanced over his shoulder. “Sorry about that. But we’re almost there. Only another thirty minutes.”
“Okay,” Maeve said, straightening slowly so as not to wake Snap, who was sprawled across her lap. Crackle lay curled up on the other side of the seat with Hope, while Pop had crawled into the passenger seat and laid on Greg’s chest. Both of them were sleeping.
For a moment, Maeve met Chris’s gaze in the rearview mirror and they shared a smile at the peacefulness of the moment. But then Chris’s gaze shifted back to the road and Maeve’s shifted to the scene outside her window.
The mountain in the distance looked ominous with the gray storm clouds above it. It was the Archuleta Mesa, and underneath all the towering rock was the base that held Alvie. There were no lights, no indications of any sort of activity. Doubts crept through her. What if they were all wrong? What if Alvie wasn’t here? What if he was halfway across the country? Across the world?
She took a breath. No, he was here. He had to be. Besides, Guardian said he was. And that pint-sized girl was scary smart.
The mountain itself had been the subject of speculation within the UFO world. Cattle mutations were reported in the area surrounding the mesa. Strange lights were also reported in the sky along with black helicopters.
Something was going on around the mesa, but the government adamantly denied any involvement. Although if Drummond was involved, it was possible those denials weren’t lies. They just didn’t know what Martin was up to.
And how exactly did he fit into all of this? She knew he’d resigned from his position as the director of BOSAC after 51. But somehow despite all the devastation he’d caused, he was back in the government’s good graces. The man was a cockroach.
How, though, did he manage to be in charge of the Dulce facility? Did that happen before he became the head of the D.E.A.D. or after? Was it a government facility? A private facility? The more Maeve learned about the country’s involvement in the space program, aliens, and UFOs, the more she realized was hidden from view. Take Tilda. She knew a great deal and yet she was no longer with the government. Yet it was obvious she still knew what was going on and had significant resources. So who exactly did she work for? And what did they want?
God, it was all overwhelming and terrifying and mind numbingly confusing. And my strange little family is caught in the middle of all of it. A tremor ran through her as she looked around the car. She would trade her life for each person here, and she knew they would do the same. She just prayed it didn’t come to that.
CHAPTER SEVENTY
DULCE, NEW MEXICO
Martin had been watching Orion1 through the window in his office for the last hour. Last night he had woken up hours later, confusion his first emotion. The lab’s lights had been dimmed. He’d made his way to his couch after downing more painkillers and slept until morning.
When morning dawned, he’d felt like his old self. He’d ordered a large breakfast and finished every bite before grabbing a shower and a change of clothes.
Refreshed, he returned to his office to see the reports from yesterday awaiting his attention. As suspected, the Gray had attacked the medullas of all the people in the lab—over twelve people simultaneously incapacitated. The scope of its ability was mind-blowing. It had been kept under sedation since then.
Belinda had not been released until this morning. An overabundance of caution on the doctor’s part as far as Martin was concerned, but since he could see her in the lab now, he supposed it was all right. After all, Martin had been in no shape to observe the experiments yesterday, and missing them would have been a shame.
He moved closer to the window. This time the big Gray did not look up at him, his attention completely focused on the container holding Subject One.
Why is he so important to you?
Martin headed for the door, promising himself that today he would find out.
A few minutes later, Martin walked into the lab. Orion1 sat there quietly, unmoving as he watched Belinda. Although she looked a little paler than normal, she still moved efficiently through her tasks. The creature was tense, which Martin could not ever remember seeing before. Each time Belinda or one of her assistants went near Subject One’s containment unit, the large alien tensed even more.
Why are you so protective of him? he wondered as he met the Gray’s gaze. Of course, there was no response. For years, it had failed to respond, no matter the provocation. Martin narrowed his eyes. Until yesterday, until you saw Subject One.
But as interesting as that development was, it was not the subject of today’s experiment. No, today’s experiment was all about Subject One. And Martin had made sure controls had been put in place to prevent the large Gray from attacking them like it had done before. But Ma
rtin still wanted it here. He wanted to see how it responded.
“Are we ready?” Martin asked as he came abreast of Subject One’s container.
One of Belinda’s assistants—Martin had never bothered learning the man’s name—nodded. “Yes, the subject has begun to stir.”
Martin peered through the glass window on the top of the container. Sure enough, Subject One was opening his eyes. Martin met his gaze and smiled. The creature reared back and Martin smiled wider. Fear. Good. He gestured to the unit. “Open it up.”
The assistant called over another assistant as Belinda joined them.
“Get readings before you open it,” Belinda said, taking a seat tiredly on a stool.
“Yes, Doctor,” assistant one said, turning to his tablet.
“How are you feeling?” Martin asked Belinda as the two assistants continued to document the subject’s physical state.
“Fine, fine. Although I had no inkling of Orion1’s abilities. I’m caught between admiration of his ability to hide his skill and concern as to what else he is hiding. Not to mention, the attack clearly shows a vulnerability in both our defenses and our testing.”
And this was why Belinda was critical to his mission—she always understood what was important.
“We’re done, Doctor, Director,” assistant one said, turning to them.
With a nod from Martin, Belinda waved her hand toward the containment unit. “Let’s begin.”
The assistants unsnapped the container, and Subject One’s head whipped from side to side, his whole body shaking, his fear an almost tangible thing.
The assistants reached in and lifted out the stretcher Subject One was tied to and placed him on the gurney that had been set up. More straps were added when he was placed on it.
As soon as Subject One had been lifted from the container, the Gray lunged from his bench but didn’t touch the glass separating him from the room. Orion1 knew from experience how painful the electric jolt would be if he did so. But he stood there, his gaze on Subject One, his face a mask of concentration.
Subject One stopped shaking his head, turning toward the Gray. Martin frowned. What was happening? “Dr. Piatto?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure. It appears to be some sort of telepathic connection. The Gray is calming him.”
“How is that possible? The case should block any signal.”
“Yes, but again, we don’t know everything about these creatures. What is happening now is unique.”
Martin watched the two creatures. Subject One’s heart rate slowed and some of the tension seemed to have eased out of the big Gray. “Interesting,” he murmured. “Well, let’s get started. Are we recording?”
“They’ve been going since we brought the subject in,” assistant one said.
“Good. Commence,” Martin said.
The assistants placed electrodes on Subject One. The subject began to squirm, making a mewling noise. Martin stepped forward to get a better view.
The assistants stepped back and Belinda nodded at Martin. “We’re ready.”
Belinda stepped to the console. “We’ll start with a simple shock and see how he responds.” She turned the dial.
Subject One didn’t even move. He looked completely unfazed.
Martin frowned. “How much was that?”
Belinda stared at the console. “300 volts. There should have been some response.”
“Raise the voltage.”
“Clear,” Belinda said.
She pressed the button. Subject One didn’t respond, but the Gray reared back, sitting heavily on the bench. Martin tilted his head, watching it.
Belinda frowned, looking between Subject One and the panel in front of her. “I don’t understand. He has to have pain receptors. It would have been documented if he didn’t. Check the leads.” The assistants jumped forward, but Martin shook his head, speaking quietly. “It’s not him. It’s the Gray.”
“What?” Belinda asked.
“Go again. Same voltage.” Martin turned his back on Subject One and watched the Gray. As soon as Belinda initiated the shock, the creature tensed and shook, its hands curling into fists.
“It’s protecting him,” Martin murmured.
Belinda stepped next to him. “I’ve never seen that before. I’m not even sure how it would work.”
“Let’s see if it works when the Gray is farther away. Maybe it requires line of sight,” Martin suggested.
“Possibly.” She waved her assistants over. “Move the Gray to position one.”
The assistants moved the case thirty feet away. The Gray could not see Subject One or even his container.
“Have a camera trained on the Gray,” Martin ordered.
The assistants hustled to get the camera set up, and after checking the feed, nodded at Martin. “Good to go.”
Martin moved over so he could see the Gray in its container. Its eyes were closed and it sat on the bench at the back. Martin signaled for Belinda to begin. The Gray jolted, its mouth opening as a sweat broke out on its forehead.
Martin smiled.
Well, now, aren’t you just full of surprises?
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
DULCE, NEW MEXICO
The sky was overcast as Chris pulled to a stop in front of the safe house Tilda had set up. It was an old, white farmhouse with a long porch, a barn, and a garage. A fire pit sat thirty feet from the front door and the yard had no grass, just dirt, although there was a ring of trees offering cover.
Maeve stepped out of the car and stretched as Adam stepped from the barn. “Is it okay for the triplets to run around?”
“Yes. I’ll keep an eye on them.”
“All right, guys. Don’t go too far.” The triplets bounded from the car, Hope traipsing after them, her tail wagging feverishly. Maeve watched them as they somersaulted across the drive with a smile.
“I’ll go with them and see what security Adam has set up.” Chris kissed her on the cheek before heading out. Maeve frowned, watching him go. They still didn’t know why the other security protocols had failed.
“You made it.”
Maeve turned to Tilda as she stepped outside. “So it seems. Penny and Nadine all right?”
“Nadine’s sleeping. I don’t think she got much sleep last night. Penny was working on pulling out some information on the base.”
Greg walked up to them, wiping his mouth and twisting his back. “Man, that was not a comfortable sleeping position.” He rubbed his chest. “Did someone sleep on me?”
Maeve smiled. “Yes, Pop.”
“Huh, well, that explains that dream. So, what’s new?”
“Not much. Come on in.” Tilda waved them inside.
Maeve and Greg followed her in. The house was a wide-open ranch that looked like it hadn’t been updated since the 1970s. Even the kitchen looked original.
“Stylish,” Greg murmured. “Well, I’m going to check out the plumbing.” He headed down the hall.
Maeve caught sight of Penny sitting at the dining-room table. “Hi, Penny.”
Penny said nothing. She just continued typing away on her screen.
Tilda bustled in, her arms full of blankets and sheets. “Just got these out of the dryer. I’m going to drop them in the bedrooms down the hall.”
“Great. Thanks.”
Maeve turned back to Penny, glancing at the screen. It was a satellite image. “What are you working on?”
“Checking the security measures I established. They’re working.” She shifted screens and rows of computer code appeared.
Maeve nodded, her mind still on Chris’s comment. “Hey, Penny. Back when Alvie was taken, Adam said the security protocols failed. That somehow they had gone down. Do you know what happened?”
Penny didn’t look up as Tilda slipped back into the dining room. “The protocols didn’t fail.”
Maeve frowned. “But they found us. And we had no warning.”
Penny stayed silent, her fingers flying over the screen
.
Maeve looked from Tilda to Penny and it all clicked into place. The security not working. The perimeter alarms being down. Their eye on the sky failing to catch the government forces sneaking up on them.
“Penny,” Maeve said slowly, “you didn’t let them find us, did you?”
Penny looked at Maeve without expression. “Of course I did.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
Maeve stumbled back and Tilda gasped next to her. The sheer magnitude of what this young girl had done robbed Maeve of her voice for a moment before the memory of Alvie falling to the ground brought her voice back with a vengeance. “Why? Why would you do that? They took him. You sent them after us and they took him.”
Penny tilted her head as if she didn’t understand Maeve’s confusion. “It was the only way.”
Maeve was barely holding on to her anger. “The only way? The only way for what?”
“To save my friend.”
Tilda narrowed her eyes.
Penny’s eyes were magnified behind her thick lenses. “He’s been there for years.”
“Years? Then how did you meet him?” Tilda asked.
“Through the cameras. People don’t understand him. They don’t understand me.” Penny returned her attention to the computer.
Maeve stepped forward, but Tilda grabbed her arm, shaking her head. She nodded toward the doorway. Maeve followed Tilda out, her whole body shaking. Penny had intentionally let Alvie be taken. Tilda led Maeve through the dated kitchen and out the back door.
Shock was splashed across Tilda’s face, but Maeve had to ask. “Did you know?”
Tilda shook her head. “No. I wondered why Guardian hadn’t warned us Drummond people were near, but I never imagined she had somehow befriended one of them through the cameras. I never imagined she would risk all our lives to …”
Maeve felt a chill crawl over her skin and wrapped her arms around herself. My God, the power Penny has is incredible. She had moved all of them like human chess pieces to get them here. And she displayed no understanding of how horrific those acts were.
