Undone: The Dark Skies Trilogy

by Lysa Daley

  “Are you sure? We’re just desperate to find him.”

  “Afraid so.” Then he hands her a business card. “Sure hope you find him. And if you happen to see anything — unusual — out here give me a call.”

  “Unusual?” She plays dumb. “Like what?”

  “Just anything out of the ordinary,” he answers being intentionally vague. “You guys be careful. And have a good night.”

  When he drives away, I turn to Agent Simmons. “So now we know they’re looking for Tom, he’s injured, and someone reported him.”

  “It would seem so,” she nods gravely, then points across the street. “Let's check the metro station and subway tunnel. If he’s injured, then I would expect him to look for someplace quiet to hide.”

  Farragut West Metro Station is a big underground half dome with a honeycomb white ceiling arching from one side to the other. Other than a few waiters and young suit-wearing politicos heading home late, along with a handful of homeless people, there's no one around.

  “Do you think he went into the tunnels?” Ruby asks, gazing into the gloomy darkness at either end of the tracks.

  “I hope not,” I say. “We’ll never find him if he did.”

  “There must be hundreds of miles of track spider-webbing out from the city center,” Agent Simmons says. “And the trains are still running so we can’t go into the tunnel even if we think he’s there.”

  Suddenly, the power unexpectedly flickers and goes out leaving us in complete darkness. Ruby let’s out a scream and clutches my arm. It's incredibly creepy to be standing in a pitch black subway tunnel.

  “What the heck?” Chad asks, spinning around. We’re standing shoulder to shoulder. For a second, I think he’s going to put his protective arm around me.

  I don’t know why I do it, but I take a step away from him. Out of his reach. As soon as I do, he turns his head away.

  Awkward.

  After a couple of seconds and before anyone can go into a full-blown panic, the lights blink back on. They couldn't have been out for more than three seconds.

  “Just a little power surge.” Agent Simmons reassures us. “Nothing to worry about. Let’s keep going.”

  Everyone heads back toward the escalator that’s powering up. Everyone except for Waylon who is still standing there.

  “Waylon!” Ruby laughs and calls out to him, “Waylon, what are you doing?”

  But he still doesn't move. Doesn't even turn his head towards us.

  “Waylon?” Ruby asks, concern creeping into her voice. She approaches him. “Are you okay?”

  He looks frozen.

  Agent Simmons snaps her fingers in front of his unblinking wide eyes. “Waylon? Can you hear me?”

  Nothing.

  He’s rigid. Staring straight ahead.

  “It’s like he’s in a trance,” Chad says.

  “What should we do?” Ruby asks at the same moment that the lights flash and go out again.

  A split second later, they’re back on.

  “Whoa! Something’s up with the power,” Waylon says, no longer frozen. He laughs. “How scary would it be to get stuck down here in the dark?”

  We’re all startled.

  “Waylon!” Ruby wraps her arms around him. “You're okay?”

  He looks perplexed. “Of course I'm okay.”

  It sure seems like the lights going on and off triggered and untriggered his frozen state. But how?

  The rest of us exchange confused looks. Agent Simmons calmly asks him, “Do you remember me calling your name a moment ago?”

  “What? When?” he replies. “You called my name?”

  We explain to him what happened, but he has no memory of going into a weird trance.

  “Are you guys trying to punk me?” he laughs.

  No one laughs back.

  Waylon has an alien implant, or bug, in his brain. The Eye in the Sky doctors are pretty sure it’s inactive.

  Maybe they’re wrong.

  “I think maybe we need to go see Dr. Maggie as soon as we get back,” Agents Simmons says as we ride the escalator back up to the street-level.

  And, for tonight at least, that’s the end of the search for Tom.

  Chapter 9

  Waylon and his mom were abducted by the Grey aliens when he was sixteen-years-old. That was in 1972.

  Yes, that should mean that Waylon is nearly 50 years old.

  He was found wandering alone in the mountains of Washington State a couple of years ago. He’d been gone 40 years but had aged less than half a decade.

  His mother was never found.

  One thing that all abductees seem to have in common is the fact that they all have a “bug” in their head. It’s a mysterious alien implant made from living organic material that attaches itself to the brain.

  Over the years, the doctors that work with the Eye in the Sky organization have attempted to remove the bugs. Chad Olson was the first successful patient to have a bug deactivated.

  And by successful, I mean the first patient who didn’t die.

  Waylon has the bug too.

  “I don’t think we should jump to conclusions,” Dr. Maggie says, leaning on the counter of the makeshift clinic she threw together when we arrived in Washington D.C. “It may have nothing to do with the bug in his head. A temporary or momentary blackout could be caused by a lot of things.”

  We're lucky Dr. Maggie even came with us, truth be told, because most of the students from St. Benedicts have been relocated to a new place somewhere in the Pacific Northwest.

  No one officially told me, but I suspect it was decided that as long as I'm still here on this planet, the doctor should probably come with us.

  “But the one thing we know about his brain is that it has one of those stupid alien bugs in it,” Ruby says.

  Waylon listens silently, sitting on the edge of the exam table. “I wish you guys would just check my brain and get it over with. This whole thing is freaking me out considering I have no memory of what you're even talking about.”

  That's when Dr. Maggie grabs what looks like an oversized handheld thermometer and motions for him to lay down. It’s not a thermometer. “Let's take a look.”

  She slowly scans the little device over the top of his head as a 3D image of his brain comes up on a little screen. This is a high-tech CAT scan-like device given to us by our aliens friends.

  One area, in particular, seems to catch her eye, and she scans it several times. She zooms in closer getting a more detailed reading of it each time she goes over it. Then she stops and looks that all of the scans in order. Her face falls. “Well, I'll be damned.”

  “What's wrong?” Ruby asks with alarm.

  “You were right, Ruby. The bug is active.” She turns to Waylon. “I guess we were wrong, buddy. We've been operating under the assumption that the bug in your head was no longer living. In fact, from past lab work, I would've sworn that the organic material in the bug was dead.”

  “But it’s not dead now.” Waylon’s face falls.

  “It's almost like it was asleep. Dormant. And now it's awake again.”

  “Can you tell if it's related to his blackouts?” I ask.

  “No,” she shakes her head. I can see the wheels turning as an idea forms in her big doctor brain. “We might be able to try to do the same thing we did with Chad’s brain. He was the first patient we were able to successfully monitor via a fiber optic probe. It might allow us to collect enough data to see what's going on.”

  “Inserting an alien probe in someone’s head sounds like the beginning of a horror movie,” Ruby argues.

  “These probes act as a relay device,” Dr. Maggie continues, ignoring the horror movie comment. “We’ve long suspected that the bugs may be capable of implanting thoughts into the brain.”

  “Like mind control?” Waylon asks.

  “It’s possible,” Dr. Maggie replies. “To find out for sure, it would require brain surgery where the patient remains awake and alert.”


  “No way,” Ruby shakes her head. “That’s way too dangerous.”

  “Hang on, now,” Waylon says. “I think this is up to me. If I’m in a position to help, then I want to help.”

  “Do you think you would be up for something like that Waylon?” Doctor Maggie asks. “You need to think about it. It’s a very dangerous procedure.”

  “Yes.” He doesn't hesitate before he answers. He’s made up his mind. “If it would help I'm up for it.”

  “You know this is crazy, right?” Ruby angrily interrupts. I've never seen her care so much about any guy. “No one has elective brain surgery. You only have that kind of surgery when you don’t have a choice when your brain is going to explode if you don't do it. You only have brain surgery when it's a matter of life and death.”

  “But it is a matter of life and death,” he says with a softer tone. “I'll do anything I can do to help stop these bastard aliens from inflicting any more harm. They took my mom. They stole my family. They took my whole life away. If I can stop them from doing that to someone else, you damn sure better know that I'm going to.”

  “Took your whole life?” Ruby says, hurt by his words. “What about me? What about all of us?”

  “Don’t you see? That’s exactly why I’m going to do this.” He takes her hand. “My family might be gone. But you’re here now. And I don’t want to lose you.”

  Ruby falls silent for a moment. Eventually, she nods. “I understand. I swear you are the most honorable guy I've ever met. I just can’t stand the thought of something happening to you.”

  They're looking deeply into each other’s eyes. I suddenly feel like a third wheel. I think Ruby might be right. Waylon may be the most honorable guy any of us have ever met.

  “I have to talk to Fitz and the rest of the group,” Dr. Maggie explains. “If they think the risk is worth it, maybe we’ll give it a try. In the meantime, let me know if he experiences any more of these blackouts.”

  Chapter 10

  Because we're basically confined in the upscale basement of a hotel, Fitz tries to make sure there's a few group activities that keep everyone’s spirits up. Tonight everyone is gathering to watch the latest “Star Wars” movie. It's not even out in theaters yet, but somehow Fitz scored a BluRay.

  I guess being the head of a secret undercover government agency with international ties has its perks.

  I wouldn't mind seeing the movie, but I'm super worried about Tom. Instead, I make an excuse and tell my uncle and everybody else that I'm too tired.

  I head to my suite and shut the door. On my laptop, I open an app that can tap into different radio frequencies. It only takes a couple of minutes to tune into the Washington D.C. police scanner.

  Sounds like a wild night out there on the mean streets of the city. Already, there's been two shootings in Anacostia, and there's a nasty four car pileup on one of the bridges coming into downtown. Other than that, it's just reports of domestic abuse and a couple of false alarms for home robberies.

  Nothing about giant intergalactic beasts freely roaming the city.

  While I'm listening, I grab my uncle's iPad and flip through Pinterest checking out different dorm room decor themes. I'm about to nod off when I hear something interesting come across the airwaves.

  “Uh… dispatch, we got reports of something in the old trolley station at Dupont Circle,” says a female officer’s voice.

  Dispatch responds, “C’mon? Gotta be just another homeless guy?”

  “Eyewitnesses report an animal of some kind.”

  Dispatch says, “Send it over to animal control. Not our jurisdiction.”

  “Um, no. I think this might be for us.”

  “What kind of animal?” Dispatch queries impatiently “Raccoon, stray dog?”

  “We got three separate eyewitnesses who swear they saw…and I’m just quoting here… a dragon.”

  I'm fully awake and out of bed like a shot pulling my shoes on.

  “A dragon?” Dispatch responds, and I can hear snickering in the background.

  A dragon in the subway tunnel can only be Tom.

  “Yes, sir,” the young officer replies, her voice wavering. They think she’s either kidding or crazy.

  But I know she's dead serious.

  I pull on my sweatshirt and take the iPad with me, bringing up maps of the transit system as I head out.

  The problem with having great security to protect you is that it makes it really difficult to sneak out at night.

  For a moment, I consider texting my uncle to tell him what's happening. He and Fitz can pull together a crack team of agents to come with me to check out this lead.

  But something's bothering me.

  It's unlike Tom to leave and not come back. Yes, he wanders off by himself all the time. When you can turn yourself into any animal from the size of an elephant down to a little tiny mouse, no one pays much attention to you. Not to mention the fact that he's immune to the weapons of this planet.

  But his job is to protect me, and if he's not coming home, and there was blood on the sidewalk, then something is wrong. I'd rather find out what it is by myself before we call in the whole damn cavalry.

  “Hey, Dale.” I grin brightly, approaching the guard stationed near the elevator. I decide the best strategy is to just tell the truth. Well, pretty much tell the truth. “How’s it going?”

  “Aw, you know, same old,” he says lazily while eyeing me. “What’s up with you?”

  “I was just heading down to the docking bay to see if Tom came back,” I say. “Bella and Ruby are going to meet me.”

  “You guys aren’t watching the movie?”

  “Not a space opera fan,” I say with a shrug. “They bore me.”

  He chuckles at the irony. I suppose as a daughter of Lyria, I shouldn’t be bored by an intergalactic princess story.

  He stands and holsters his futuristic weapon, “Okay, I’ll walk you down.”

  “I hate for you to leave your post when no one else is on duty. Just radio down and tell them I’m on my way if it’ll make you feel better.”

  He thinks about it for a moment, then nods and picks up his radio. “This is Dale. Tiger Lily is on her way down.”

  “Tiger Lily?” I frown. “That’s my new code name?”

  “Sorry.” Embarrassed, Dale just shrugs. “What can I say?”

  It changes every month. My code name started out as Zena then went to Buffy. But now they’re choosing the name of a minor princess in a Disney movie about a boy who refuses to grow up?

  “Tell whoever comes up with the code names I’d be happier with Cinderella. At least she has the tenacity to get her ass to the ball in a decent outfit and great shoes.”

  “Will do.” Dale opens the elevator for me, inserts his key and presses the LL button. As the door closes, he says, “And you’ll always be Daenerys to me.”

  “Thanks, Dale,” I say as the door slides shut.

  He doesn’t know that I know that once he’s selected a floor on the elevator panel, then I can pick a different one. Like the floor right above the lower level.

  Five minutes later, I’m ducking out the side staff entrance and slinking along the side of the hotel out onto a quiet street. It’s a cold, foggy night.

  The police scanner said that the dragon sighting came from near Dupont Circle which is about a mile away from the hotel.

  With my hood up and my hands stuffed into the pockets of my sweatshirt, I make my way up to Connecticut Avenue while googling old trolley stations on my uncle's iPad.

  The tablet is unwieldy in my hands, and I'm wishing I had my phone, but the second they realize I'm not in my room, they’ll track me to my phone which is currently plugged in and charging on my bathroom counter.

  Eventually, they'll figure out that the iPad is missing, but hopefully, I'll be back by then.

  According to a short documentary on YouTube, the trolley station was built after World War II. I stand inside the doorway of a dry cleaner and watch it. Back in t
he day, the trolley just slingshotted up-and-down around what is now the area called Dupont Circle. The trolley was closed sometime in the 60s and walled off.

  When I get to the circle, I casually make my way around the park on the sidewalk. A few people stroll past or sit on the benches, but it’s pretty quiet. I walk the circle twice looking in both directions, but I don't see what could be an entrance to a trolley station. According to the documentary, everything has been walled up for 50 years, but the entrance still stands.

  Instead, I decide to check out the current metro station.

  The entrance to the modern-day metro is just a little bit north of Dupont Circle. It's a sleek half pipe of white honeycomb tunneling. I stand on the platform looking back-and-forth. One train is headed out, and I see the lights of another approaching from the opposite direction.

  Is it possible that Tom is in one of these tunnels?

  Did they mean metro station but accidentally said trolley station? No, I’m sure she said “old trolley station.” Frustrated, I'm just about to give up when I hear shouts coming from outside.

  Heading back up to the street, I see a police car, lights twirling, racing to a stop on Connecticut Avenue. I wander over to see a hysterical woman in a transit uniform talking to a second pair of police officers. The woman looks like she's about to hyperventilate.

  My guess is she just had a run in with Tom.

  If it is him, I can't help but wonder why is he appearing as a mythical creature like a dragon? He's usually something like an owl, a mouse or a raccoon. Harmless and cute. So why would he take the form of a terrifying dragon in the middle of a major urban centers?

  I see another pair of officers emerge from what appears to be an old-fashioned subway entrance. Bingo!

  There's no way I'm going to be able to get into that station without someone's seeing me unless I can create a diversion. From the shadows, I pick up a rock the size of a quarter and throw it as hard as I can at a glass shop window behind the group.

  Unfortunately, I don't know my own strength and the window violently shatters. Oops. That was not my intention. I just meant to create an itty-bitty diversion.