The Dark Above

by Jeremy Finley

  “It caused a pretty big rift in my family,” Quincy said. “I obviously never met my great-grandfather Rex. He was dead long before even my dad was born. My dad grew up listening to his father grumble about his crazy father Rex, who told stories about people disappearing and reappearing into lightning. In fact, my grandfather took all of Rex’s notes that were stored in boxes and tossed them, but my dad secretly dug them out of the trash. And Dad really got into it, carefully keeping them in fact. Boy, did it piss off my grandfather when he found out. Said it was a bunch of crap that ruined Rex’s life. It was the beginning of the end for my dad and his father. As a final middle finger to his father, my dad made sure my first name was Rex. Being antagonistic is a family trait.”

  “So those letters from your great-grandfather … you’ve read them before?” William asked.

  “No. I just have his private scientific notes. In them, he made several references to the fact that he was hesitant to keep anything about his actual discoveries at his home, for fear that it could be discovered and his family would be in danger. You can imagine my fascination in reading that. And I only found out about his technical notations when your story came out, Will. I was just a kid too. Maybe ten years old. I clearly remember talking to my dad about the kid from Tennessee who was abducted by aliens, and my dad said, ‘You should read what your great-grandfather believed.’ I devoured it. And by the time I made my first million, I knew how I’d be spending my money. My business goal was to get your name on the dotted line for the new campaign, but honestly, this is what I really wanted to know: If my great-grandpa Rex was right.”

  William felt the uncomfortable prickling of doubt. “Campaign?”

  Quincy shifted his feet. “Yeah, about that. My company pioneered the app that projects hologram images from phones. We are about to launch a new version that allows you to project your image to whoever you’re talking to. I regret the name, now. Beam Me Up.”

  William winced. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. Bad taste. I get it. But the idea all along was to tell you about my great-grandpa Rex and his studies. I had no idea the connection to your great-grandparents and your grandmother. When I got that tip that you were living in Arkansas in a trailer, I figured you could use the money and might be a spokesman for it. Don’t punch me, I bruise easily.”

  William then turned to Steven. “He received a tip?”

  Steven held up his hands. “Full transparency: We knew we would be sending our people to try and keep you safe and bring you here. But we wanted a dual approach. If Rudd had failed, and you’d gone safely with Mr. Martin, then our plan was to reach out to explain that we needed to meet with you both.”

  William shook his head. “I am getting the very distinct feeling that we really all are just pawns for your organization.”

  Steven’s expression was grim. “We suspected when you surfaced, the SSA would not be far behind. Knowing what is happening here and around the world, we feared—and rightly so—that people were being abducted and returned again. But truly, all your great-grandmother wanted was to keep you safe. And so did I.”

  “And you can’t blame him,” Quincy said. “If you were my grandson, I’d want you safe too.”

  William flinched. “Excuse me?”

  Quincy’s eyebrows raised, turning to Steven, who had closed his eyes in obvious frustration.

  “Well, this is uncomfortable,” Quincy muttered.

  * * *

  The fan above the bed whirled slowly. William knew he should sleep, even if the nightmares were waiting. For once, the panic attacks were dormant, replaced by burgeoning anger.

  And it was a petty anger, too. After everything that had happened, everything he’d learned, it was the smallest, most unimportant revelation.

  He turned over, looking out the window of the upper bedroom of the house. After he had abruptly walked away from the fountain, he’d heard Steven call out that he would stay the night if William wanted to talk. He hadn’t responded.

  The two burly guards had directed him to his room. He’d paced for a good thirty minutes.

  Everything. Every whisper, every rumor, every suggestion that surrounded him his entire life was true.

  “I can barely hear you above the violins,” he could imagine Roxy saying from the plush chair in the corner of the room.

  I think I’m due a bit of rumination, Roxy.

  “Really? Shall I introduce you to your grandmother? Who risked the exposure of her darkest secrets to find you? She’s the only one who gets to sit around and brood. And she vacuums instead.”

  She should have told me the truth. I deserved to know.

  “That’s crap, William. She and your parents and your Grandpa Tom gave you a normal life. Now that you’re in the middle of this mess, take a minute and be glad you lived in the bubble. Your grandmother risked everything to stabilize her family. And she did.”

  William rolled over to his other side so he couldn’t see the chair.

  I wonder how many other twentysomethings project their grandmother’s best friend as their voice of reason.

  The sad part was, he wasn’t that surprised about Steven. Of course he’d heard the rumors. Once, a girl he dated had called him over to her laptop to show him a picture of Dr. Steven Richards from when he was arrested. William had gotten angry, asking what she’d been looking up. She’d just casually leaned back, pointing to the photo. “You know, you look a lot like him.”

  The fact of the matter was, of all the rumors, William cared the least about the one concerning his grandmother’s affair, because it just didn’t seem at all possible. His grandparents were in love. It was obvious by the way that Grandpa Tom doted on Nanna. He’d heard his mother say several times that it wasn’t always that way, that it was practically a new development in their relationship.

  Plus, it was miniscule. Grandpa Tom would always be his grandfather. Nothing would ever change that. It was simply just a final kick in the pants on a day that left his head spinning—

  He heard the door handle turn quickly, and he sat up. Lily slipped through, wearing a nightgown, the whites of her eyes shining.

  “Lily—”

  She scurried past him to the windows. She was practically shaking.

  “What is it?” he asked, sliding out.

  “They’re here,” she said, pointing.

  William looked through the glass. The moon was full, so the entire backyard was awash in pale light. He saw nothing but the fountain and the scattered gardens. Then, forms dressed in the color of night began to emerge from the trees and move towards the house.

  TEN

  By the time William shoved his feet into his shoes and grabbed Lily’s hand, Steven was at the door, still dressed in his clothes from before.

  “Get to the basement. Now—”

  The sound of gunshots interrupted, and Steven waved them on.

  “Just go!” he ordered, moving stiffly around the banister of the upper floor. “Quincy! Get up!”

  “What’s going on?” Quincy muttered as he emerged from another room looking disoriented, his shirt unbuttoned.

  “Get out of there! Don’t stop!” Steven barked as another round of gunfire erupted from outside.

  William swept Lily into his arms as he bounded down the stairs to the first floor, remembering the elevator was just off the kitchen. As he looked back up the stairs to see if Steven and Quincy were close behind, the glass in the French doors leading to the porch shattered, inviting in the sound of a landing helicopter.

  “Go!” Steven yelled. William headed for the kitchen, seeing the night revealed in the missing glass splintered by the firing of pistols from the two guards. Both were crouched behind pillars, firing repeatedly into the dark.

  William ran, carrying Lily through the butler’s pantry and to the large, heavy doors that concealed the elevator. He set the girl down and pulled opened the doors. Steven arrived, sliding aside the small painting and punching in a code on the keypad, then setting his th
umb on the tiny screen.

  They heard the scream of a man from the porch and booted feet rush up the outside stairs.

  Stumbling inside as the elevator doors opened, Steven repeatedly pushed the button to descend.

  As the metal doors began to close, a man in black arrived outside, sticking his foot in the opening.

  William felt the heat in him, the familiar panic. He saw Lily raise her arm.

  “No!” he said, yanking her hand down.

  The closest to the doors, Quincy used his sizeable weight to slam his foot into the agent’s shin, just as the man swiveled his weapon towards them. When he yanked his leg back in pain, the doors abruptly shut.

  “Listen,” Steven said as the elevator began to lower. “Do exactly as I say and we may be able to get out of here.”

  Before they could respond, the elevator doors opened, and Steven motioned them out. As their eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, Steven turned to the keypad on the side of the door. As the doors to the elevator closed again, he held down his finger on the screen for several seconds, until it began to flash red.

  “It’s inactivated,” Steven said. “William, turn around.”

  “What?”

  Starting at William’s neck, the old man began to pat him down. When he’d reached all the way to his feet, he tore off William’s shoes. As he turned them over, something small tumbled out from inside one of them.

  Lily reached down, holding up what appeared to be a microchip.

  “Dammit,” Steven said.

  William’s stomach sank, remembering how the agents had frisked him, even taking off his shoes.

  “They must have slipped it in when they took me,” he stammered.

  Quincy took the tracking device from Lily and threw it to the floor, crushing it with the heel of his shoe. From above came the sound of harsh slamming on metal.

  “We don’t have much time.” Steven hobbled across the room, opening a cabinet. Pressing a series of buttons on the top of the safe inside, he lifted out a single flash drive on a metal chain. He then moved to the only other door in the room.

  Again, he pressed his thumb on a keypad, and a thudding sound came from behind it. He pulled it open, revealing only darkness beyond. “Now.” He motioned them in.

  They didn’t hesitate. Once in, Steven closed the door. A dim light flickered on, revealing a long, dark, earthen passage stretching out before them.

  “What in the world?” Quincy said softly. “Where does that go?”

  Steven reached for a glass case embedded in the wall. Lifting the cover, he pulled out a hefty flashlight hanging beside a single red button. Taking a deep breath, Steven pushed the button.

  “Run,” he said, thrusting the flashlight towards William. “Run and don’t stop. You have eight minutes. You will reach a ladder about a half mile down. Climb it and follow the path outside. It will lead you to a boat. Take it and don’t stop. Do you understand? Take this flash drive. Give it to your grandmother. It must get to her.”

  Even in the earthen tunnel, the sound of repeated battering could still be heard above.

  “Ok, let’s go,” Quincy said.

  “Take it,” Steven said, forcing the chain with the attached flash drive around William’s neck.

  “William, let’s go!” Quincy said.

  “Come on,” William motioned to Steven.

  The strain on the man’s face was apparent, even in the dim light. “I wish we had more time, William. Tell you grandmother—”

  “No,” William said. “Quincy, take Lily and run.”

  Quincy took the flashlight from William and pulled the girl to follow.

  “Let’s go.” William reached out for Steven’s shoulder.

  “There’s no way I can keep up—”

  “Then I guess you’re going to die on the way instead of here.”

  “I cannot, William. I had a heart attack ten years ago—”

  William ushered him down the passageway. “You’ve got too much to explain for me to just leave you.”

  “I’m already worn out—”

  “Then get on,” William ordered, turning around.

  “You can’t—”

  “Do it, Steven!”

  He hesitated a moment, and then climbed onto William’s back. The old man was lighter than William thought, hitching him up.

  “We don’t have much more time.”

  William ran as fast as he could, heedless of how much the man jostled on his back.

  The flashlight had stopped. Quincy and Lily waited.

  “Don’t stop!” Steven called out.

  William tried to motion them to keep running, but Lily appeared to be straining to hold Quincy back until William was closer. As they met, William heard Quincy mutter something about Luke and Master Yoda.

  “This is my worst nightmare,” Quincy huffed. “Please don’t cave in. Please don’t cave in.”

  For several minutes they ran, with seemingly no end to the tunnel, the sound of Steven’s labored breathing in William’s ear.

  “Hey,” Quincy said, now completely out of breath. “How much further—”

  “There,” Steven pointed. The tunnel abruptly stopped about a yard away. When they reached the end, an iron ladder extended up. “Shine it up there.”

  Quincy raised the flashlight. The tunnel reaching to the surface was relatively short and ended in a circular, metal cover.

  “We only have a minute or two left,” Steven said.

  “Before what?” Quincy asked.

  William scrambled up the ladder, grabbing the lever beneath, straining to release the lid. It groaned open, and the sounds of crickets and tree frogs spilled down.

  He climbed out, finding himself on a small hill. Through the trees beyond, he could see the lights of the Corcillium house. The floodlights from the helicopters flashed through the branches.

  He began to order the others to follow, but already Lily was climbing out. Quincy shone the flashlight with one hand, bracing Steven with the other to help him climb. William reached down and pulled Steven the rest of the way. Quincy was immediately behind, taking a deep inhale of the night air.

  “We have to keep going,” Steven whispered. “Turn off the flashlight. I have to go by memory.”

  The abundance of moonlight helped, but it also meant that if any of the agents were nearby, they could easily be seen.

  Steven led them from the hill down a path. Not nearly as manicured as the rest of the property, it was surrounded on both sides by tall grass. As they saw the glittering of water in the near distance, the earth rocked beneath them. They stumbled, and turned to see the metal cover fly into the air, propelled by flames bursting from the ground.

  “Jesus!” Quincy said.

  The explosion was followed by another in the distance, so loud and jarring it sounded as if a plane had crashed from the skies. Black smoke ballooned above the treetops, beginning to obscure the stars.

  The lights from the Corcillium house were gone, replaced by angry flames.

  In the distance, they could hear more helicopters approaching. “Come on,” Steven said, trudging down the path.

  “Blue. Where is Blue—?”

  “My home is isolated. Rudd is with her. He’ll know to take her and run.”

  The path veered off to split the tall grass, leading to a tucked-away dock and a small fishing boat.

  “Untether the boat,” Steven whispered, leaning heavily on one of the wood pillars, motioning for them to get inside.

  William lifted off the rope as Quincy stepped in, lifting Lily in and helping Steven as he practically collapsed into the boat.

  “There’s the oar,” Steven said, slumping into the seat, his head thrown back in exhaustion.

  As they drifted into the water, William set the oar in, propelling them away from the dock.

  “Which way?” he whispered.

  “Head south. The direction we’re heading.”

  “Shouldn’t we fire up the motor?” Quincy ask
ed.

  “We can’t risk them hearing.”

  Another geyser of flame erupted from the mansion, sending a plume of smoke into the sky.

  Steven lay with his eyes closed now. “It was Blue … who insisted upon it. Have an escape route, she said. Make sure if we’re ever compromised, nothing remains. They cannot have our records.”

  “But all that research. All of it gone,” Quincy said. “My great-grandfather’s letters…”

  “No,” Steven said, raising a trembling finger towards William. “It’s all there.”

  William reached up to touch the flash drive on the chain around his neck. “But if they get to Blue…”

  “Rudd is among the few to be notified when there is a security perimeter breach. They were long gone as soon as he got the alert. The one thing the Corcillium knows best is how to hide.”

  “How do we get in contact with any of them now?” William asked.

  Steven slowly opened his eyes. “We don’t.”

  * * *

  Lynn gripped the side of the chair with such ferocity that her knuckles whitened, the veins in her age-spotted hands rising. She pushed herself to stand once again and resume her pacing in front of the French doors that overlooked the stately eastern white pines.

  “If you’d like,” Roxy said, flipping through the Country Living magazine for the twentieth time while propped up with seven pillows on the bed, “I can call for a vacuum. Best form of therapy for you.”

  “How could I have been so stupid?” Lynn asked.

  “Stupid had nothing to do with this, at least this time.” Roxy put the magazine down on her lap. “When armed government agents say for national security reasons you have to fly to DC, you go. Especially when your daughter signs the order.”

  Lynn’s eyes flashed. “How could she?”

  “Listen,” Roxy said, attempting once again to position the pillows to support her lower back. “Kate is a lot of things, and things have gone extremely south in the last few years, but she still loves you. She wants you close—”