by Jill Cooper
“If it’s important enough. What’s going on, Jenna?”
“I have information to clear our names. The plot to kill Wendy, the Chief, goes straight to the top.”
“Well,” Rebecca said breathlessly, “seems like I’m going to clean house.”
“We’re on our way to the kids now,” Jenna said and slid into the driver’s seat of the van. “Having Dirk send the location to your phone now. Has my mother’s compound been mobilized?”
“They’ve already begun to move toward you.” Rebecca paused. “What if they’re too late?”
“Then we’ll have a little talk about me.” Jenna snapped her phone shut. In a moment the van was on the open road. “You want to tell me where we’re going, who we’re up against?” she asked Dirk.
“A corrupt nurse from New Haven 52 and an assassin.”
“Oh,” Jenna said with her eyebrows raised. “Is that all?”
“Did you mean what you told Laurel? If Wendy and her baby don’t make it, will you really out yourself?”
She gripped the steering wheel. “I’d owe it to them, I think. If I fail to save them. If I fail to protect the chief’s daughter, I see little choice. Otherwise all these deaths and destroyed lives mean nothing.”
Dirk touched her hand. “I’m sorry, Jen. For all of it.”
She nodded. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.”
“Then when?”
Jenna thought about it. “How about never?”
A lot of New Haven police officers drove through town and Jeff tried to remain calm so not to set off their alarms and detection units. He took deep breaths and parked his car in the full lot of the Bowl-A-Rama. Reaching into the back of his sedan, he picked up his bowling ball case and carried it inside the dark alley. The smell of beer permeated the large, dimly lit room, but everything was silent and there was no one at the front counter. Stepping through the small entryway, Jeff entered the bowling area and saw the area filled with people standing in a circle.
Everyone’s eyes were nervous and their hands were jittery as they sipped their beer. They acknowledged Jeff with a nod of their heads. He took the offered beer from Billy and sipped it. “It’s a good day for some bowling. I finished my list.”
“Me too,” a haunted voice rang out.
“I dropped my kids off with Megan. They are going to run some errands. In the city square.” The furthest point from Outpost, just in case. “She’ll be heading toward Dolores’s Scoops Ice Cream Parlor in thirty minutes.” It was close as a glistening could get to the Outpost without actually being inside the enemy’s den.
Jeff nodded and lifted his glass. “To our fallen family and friends, then. Who are all in a better place.” They clinked their glasses together. Jeff finished his drink, thinking of Susan, his son, and then placed the empty tall glass down on the counter.
“We should start our errands,” Frank said. “See you there.”
Single file, they headed outside, one by one placing their glasses upside down on the counter. Each exited the Bowl-A-Rama and marched through the parking lot. Across the street, Jeff saw an officer in a checkered rim hat, watching them with concerned interest. He then talked into his shoulder, as if he were radioing in for assistance.
Jeff gave him a half-smile at him, then started his car and pulled out toward Main Street. At a red light, he unzipped his bowling ball bag and looked inside, not at a bowling ball at all, but of treasured mementos for the journey: pictures of his family, silverware his wife loved, and his daughter’s favorite books. He had nothing else. With no possessions that were truly his, or money, Jeff was going in blind.
He hoped his rage, his anger for everything they took from him, would be enough.
Dolores’s Ice Cream Scoop was a pink building with a pink-and-white-striped overhang. The window was decorated in glass drawings of ice cream sundaes and a neon sign flashed Open in swirly purple. Jeff pulled to the curb when he saw it and sat in his car, but the engine still purred. His eyes focused on the photo of his wife. How scared she must have been. Jeff blamed himself for being so big on the rules that Susan felt she couldn’t come to him. Instead she did it alone, and she got herself killed.
Never again would he retreat after a long day to her warm embrace. Hell, Jeff didn’t even know what they did with her body, but it was somewhere in there, inside Outpost. Maybe they cut her open, did an autopsy to see what made her tick, or would do experiments on her to find what certain chemicals would do to her insides. Irate, Jeff cut the engine, got out, and slammed the door.
The bowling ball bag firmly in his grasp, he marched toward the tunnel leading to Outpost. There were two guards on either side and the entrance was blocked with red and white flashing lights intended to warn glistenings away. Not that many made it this far. Just the idea of Outpost was enough to send most glistenings to the shopping centers in need of new draperies or duvet covers.
Jeff marched with determination, heart racing like a storm of elephants. But so far the officers weren’t afraid. They were composed, authoritative with their wide stances and arms clasped in front of them. “Is there something we can help you with, Mr. Monroe? Did you take a wrong turn?”
“Pretty sure you don’t want in there.”
Behind him, Jeff heard the rocketing chorus of a dozen and then two dozen car doors slamming. The sound echoed toward him and spun down the tunnel. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I do.” By the time he finished the sentence, he lost all human thought and his large claw swatted the officer in the head. His large tail swiped against the other, breaking the man’s vertebrae as he slammed into the rock wall with the force of a dozen elephants charging through open terrain.
Jeff continued into the tunnel, his wings flapping in time with the others behind them. Halfway through, their pace turned to a gallop and then a full-on run, as sirens blared and red lights flashed. Jeff tore off and was inside Outpost. A flap of his wings sent him high in the sky. His lungs expanded with new air that smelled dirty, unrefined, and not filtered like the air of New Haven. It felt like something in his mind snapped open, filling with painful memories, and his desires were stronger.
Even the air was laced, drugged, Jeff thought, to keep him tamed. But now he was out of control and nothing was going to be able to stop him.
At his side were a dozen glistenings. Others took refuge on top of the large buildings, scoping out the area with their hungry eyes. Officers were coming with weapons and guns. Jeff knew it was time to strike. He dove through the air like a missile, diving and spinning toward the exit where the guards were posted. His mouth opened to receive its first taste of gristly human flesh.
****
They drove for hours through the mountains, Jenna pushing the gas as hard as she could without careening off the road. When they arrived at the cabin, it was already dark out and rain clouds were forming over the horizon like a looming threat.
Jenna and Dirk exited the van with their weapons drawn. Dirk went around the front while Jenna took the rear, to secure the perimeter. She wished she had their analyst, but that time was past. Now they were going to have to do things the old-fashioned way. She crossed a small wooden deck toward the windows that faced the front desk. And she smelled fresh blood.
Jenna looked down and saw her boots were slick in it. She followed the smear of red and found two bodies piled together. Each had a single shot to the head, execution style. She guessed they were Marshall Crane, the assassin; and Rachel Montgomery, the corrupt nurse expelled from New Haven 52 for smothering babies.
If they were dead, the assassins who killed the Chief were here. Which meant the kids were in danger.
Jenna slid the glass door open and stepped in. Her gun was at her side as her eyes swept across the lobby. It was dark and empty. Dirk came down the stairs. He shook his head to her unspoken question. “No one’s upstairs.”
“Shit.” Jenna said and they headed back out the front door. It was raining now and they both surveyed the landscape.
“Can you tell which way they went?”
“That way, heading west.”
Deeper into the mountains. Maybe they were being pursued. Maybe they were scared and had no idea what they were doing; that seemed the most likely. “Let’s move.”
“It’s not a lot to go on, Jenn. Most of our equipment is gone. Jameson isn’t here to run his complex algorithms. All we know is we head that way.”
“Then we head that way.”
“And pray we just run into them?”
“Pray they were headed toward the rental cabins. It’s all we have to go on, and if that’s not where they were going, then they were headed toward a dead end. And might already be dead.”
“Geesh, you’re as upbeat as usual.”
Jenna shrugged. “Nothing’s much changed.”
“Maybe not for you.”
She cringed and Dirk apologized. “Forget it. Let’s just move before we lose any more time.”
In the van, Dirk seemed contrite, and booted up the small laptop. He used it to power the van’s night vision scopes on the road. The rain was quickly washing away the muddy tracks and following them via technology was going to be impossible soon. Jenna was going to have to rely on luck and instincts to find these kids. But if she could find them, that meant that the people who pursed them could too. All of which added up to two dead teens and a dead baby.
Dirk tried to read her expression. She could feel his eyes all over her, and it made her feel dirty.
“Keep an eye on those tracks. If they change I need to know.”
“Sorry,” he muttered and went back to gazing at his screen, but Jenna could tell he was distracted.
“Just say it,” she blurted out with impatience. “Whatever it is, just say it so we can go back to work. I need you focused, Dirk.”
“Excuse me, I’m still trying to digest a lot of things, all right? A lot of things make sense, but others? That we could be so close and yet you could keep from me that I was a dad? Awfully cold, Jenna.”
Her fingers went rigid around the steering wheel. “I know that. That’s why I kept pushing you away. That’s why I didn’t want to have this conversation.”
“Because you were ashamed of the baby.”
If he stabbed her with a rusty blade, it would have hurt less. “No,” Jenna’s voice cracked. “Because I was ashamed I was weak and handled it badly, all right?”
His voice was flat. “Were you sad? Or were you glad when she died?”
His words cut her deep and Jenna nearly slammed on the brakes so she could slap him. Instead she blinked back her tears. Everything she always said and did, well how could she blame him for feeling that way? “Did I hate that the part of her that was glistening was me? Yes. I hated that I have evil in my blood and that damned our daughter to death. But no, I wasn’t glad.” Her chin trembled. “I carry her with me every day, always will. I was far from glad.”
“I didn’t mean to ... I just needed to know.”
Jenna nodded, she understood it, but she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She slowed the van down and they crossed a wooden bridge. Crashed against a bent tree was a pickup truck, its hazard lights blinking erratically. Behind it was a van, just like their old one. “Shit.” Jenna said, putting the van in park and hopping out.
She tore open the truck’s doors. Both airbags were deployed and the windshield was cracked. The crash had been a bad one. She doubted either Wendy or Jake had driven before and their panic, combined with the rain, might have been a lethal combination. They likely left on foot, knowing they were being pursued.
“I updated our location with Rebecca.” Dirk said at her side.
“Check the back of their van for flashlights. We’re going into the bush. We have to find those kids.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven Wendy
Wendy tripped over a tree root and fell. Her sneakers were thick with muck and she couldn’t find enough purchase to stand. She was exhausted, but terror drove her on. In the back of her mind, she was aware of a pulsating pain through her abdomen and the scream for relief from her lower back.
Scurrying up the hill, Wendy grabbed at a root to pull herself up. Her limbs shook and her hands were so slick with mud, she slipped. She screamed, and Jake grabbed her wrist to stop her descent. Wendy clawed at his shoulder and he dragged her back to solid ground. “I can’t do this anymore,” she sobbed.
But they had no choice as they heard footsteps behind them. Streams of light zig-zagged through the trees. Jake took her hand, leading her further through dense woods and searing fog. The rain didn’t let up, washing away the trail behind them and in front of them. In time they leapt over rocks and logs, and raced across a ravine. Ahead the mountain curved and grew even more steep; the rocks of the cliffs were razor-sharp. Wendy knew they had to find a way down the mountain. If they couldn’t, her life was over.
She braced herself on the trunk of a tree. Leaning over and moaning loudly, she grabbed her belly. “Jake, I think something’s wrong. I can’t. It hurts too much.”
“We have to.” Jake gripped her side, a look of terror in his eye.
“You go.” She whispered.
“Not without you.” Jake clasped her hand again, only harder. He yanked on her arm until she cried and followed.
Voices and the rush of footsteps tightened Wendy’s chest with anxiety. Jake quickened his pace, but Wendy trailed behind. He took her by the shoulders and hurried her along. Step by step he guided her, and in the distance, they saw an old abandoned shed surrounded by a fence with a simple lamppost outside. It was long burnt out, the bulb broken. Wendy and Jake rushed toward the building and barricaded themselves inside.
Their pursuers would find them. But Wendy couldn’t help collapsing to the ground, using an old tire to support her back. She groaned, holding her belly taut, and felt what she knew was a strong contraction. She didn’t think it would matter. They’d be dead before the baby was born.
Jake was frantic as he searched a nearby table. He came to a small metal box and laughed manically. “It’s a CB crank radio! A CB radio! I had one of these as a kid. I used it to talk to the neighbors. We can call for help. We can get someone out here to help us.” Wendy heard him crank the handle and then utter the words, “Mayday Mayday.”
But she didn’t hear anything else. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body began to seize.
****
“Mayday Mayday!”
Jenna stopped in her tracks when her phone beeped. She had set it to roam all open channels in the facility, but this was the first time it picked anything up. She didn’t think they would get lucky enough to pick anything up. Especially a distress call. Her phone told her it was a CB transmission. “This is Jenna Morgan. Go.” She said into her phone and nodded to Dirk. “Find the signal.”
The boy’s voice was rushed and panicked. “I need help. My girlfriend’s gone unconscious. There are guys after us and there getting close, I can see lights getting closer. You have to help us, please!” His voice was shrill, which meant only one thing.
“Calm down, Jake. You need to take a few breaths and pull it together, understand? Are you hurt?”
“A little. How do you know who I am? Over.”
“That’s not important right now. I’m going to help you. Is Wendy breathing?”
“Yeah but she’s in bad, bad shape. I didn’t want to tell her. I wanted to be supportive—” The boy was beginning to ramble.
“It’s okay. Deep breaths, remember? We have doctors waiting to help her. We just need to get you out of this alive.”
“I’ve got it.” Dirk said. “They’re less than two miles away.” He pointed toward a cliff. Too bad Jenna left her hiking boots at home.
“We’re coming fast as we can, but Jake, you are might ha
ve to fend those men off until we get there.”
“I can’t,” Jake whined. “I’m looking and looking, and there aren’t any weapons. I don’t know what to do!”
Jenna’s steps slowed down. “Jake, you are a weapon.”
Dirk did a double take toward her. “Jen...” He whispered, but she held up a hand to silence him.
“You know what you’re asking me to do?” Jake nearly screamed. “If I do that, if I go after them, I might never come back. NEVER.”
“I know and it’s horrible. I shouldn’t have to ask, but I do. You are the only thing standing between them and Wendy, the baby. If you want them to survive, you have to become a weapon.”
“How, I don’t know how. I’ve never...shifted.” Jenna swore she could hear vomit rising in the kid’s mouth.
“With the amount of time you’ve been off the juice and the amount of fear you’re going to feel when bullets start flying, I think it’d be a miracle if you didn’t.” Jenna added softly. “Good luck, Jake. Hold them off, as long as you can.”
“I sent a message to Rebecca,” Dirk said when Jake cut his final transmission. “Hopefully the cavalry will be around soon enough.”
“We better make a run for it. If we’re going to make it up over that cliff, we’re going to need all the time we can get.”
Jake kissed Wendy’s hands before placing them on her belly and then kissed her cheeks. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but didn’t think the words would come out right. Besides, she still wasn’t conscious. Beads of sweat clung to her face. Each breath seemed labored and he thought her time might be running out as quickly as his.
His fingers stroked her cheeks and remembered the first time he “accidentally” brushed against her. How Wendy once gave him money for lunch when he forgot his at home; and how she would smile at him during football practice. Back then it had all been a game and one he loved to play. The first time they snuck a kiss in the back of the school library had been the first time Jake felt alive. Every day they tried to sneak something and it was exciting, thrilling, but had been a game before the night on the field.
