“What do you mean, ‘that’s all’?”
“I mean that your message got dropped onto the net mid-stream. There’s no domain because there never was one to begin with. It just…appeared out of nowhere. Which could mean that this ‘Muriel’ is a genius at email spoofing.”
“Or she’s for real,” Jason whispered. “Oh. My. God. Muriel could be for real…”
“Hold on, Jase. That’s a pretty big leap of faith there.”
“Not if you take into account what’s been going on here,” Jason said, and quickly outlined the appearance of Henrik Rascher. “He said he was from the government. Could his agency be legally tapping my email account?”
“If he’s a Fed, sure. He could use Carnivore, Magic Lantern, or some other kind of policeware to tap you. But it’s funny. From these emails, it doesn’t sound like Muriel or her brother are shipping drugs, laundering money, or plotting to blow up anything, though. Sounds more like they’re the ones in need of help.”
“Yeah, but Rascher said something about why his people were interested in who I was communicating with. That this was the first time this kind of communication had ever taken place.” Jason stopped, his eyes wide. “The first time…could it be the first time we’ve gotten messages…from another world?”
Thaddeus let out a snicker. “Oh, sure. And this Rascher guy is from some covert ops group. One that watches for extraterrestrial emails showing up in our inboxes like spam for discount mortgages and cheap Viagra.”
“Come on, Tad. What else could this be?”
“I hate to break it to you, but this ain’t one of your books. I’ll follow up some more on my end tomorrow. This is some world-class cracking that Muriel pulled on that message. But I’ll find her fingerprints.”
Tad hung up, leaving Jason staring at his screen. He absently nibbled on one knuckle for a moment, and then sat straight up in his chair. He opened a new email message to Muriel and typed a single line.
Coming to help you. Tell me how to get to where you are.
- Leetah
Jason hit ‘Send’, and then checked his watch. A little less than three hours before Muriel could reply. For the first time in years, Jason felt a little heady over what lay ahead. The possibility of visiting a world that no one had even known about before, let alone been invited — begged! — to come visit.
He was lost in his own thoughts when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. Startled, he would have jumped had it not been for the inexorable power in the arm that turned him and his chair around. The cop’s silver badge was so close to his nose that he had to cross his eyes to see it clearly.
“Jason Summer,” the cop said. “You’re to come to the station with me.”
“Not a chance,” Jason said, trying to rise. The man’s arm didn’t budge.
“Mister Summer,” the officer said tiredly, “we can do this the easy way, or I can take you there in restraints. Now, which way is this going to go down?”
Chapter Eight
Jason sighed and idly tested the hinge on his handcuffs.
The police station bustled with activity. He slumped in his chair as the arresting officer hunted and pecked his way through the computer records with agonizing slowness. An officer with a double gold bar on his uniform paused at the door.
“You look familiar,” the man said, as he frowned at Jason. “Do I know you?”
“Not unless you read a lot of pulp fiction,” Jason replied coolly. “Have I been charged with anything? Because I want a lawyer.”
The arresting officer looked up from the computer. “What is it, Captain?”
“Nash, why’s this guy in your office?”
“You said he looked familiar to you,” was the reply. A look went between the two men. A second of uncomfortable silence. “Sir, could I speak with you for a moment?”
“Of course.” The Captain addressed Jason again. “Be right with you, sir.”
“I’m not exactly going anywhere,” Jason shot back.
The Captain frowned but let the remark pass. Nash joined him in the hallway and they strode off in the direction of a conference room.
A few moments later, the office door opened with a click. Jason’s heart leapt in his throat as Sonja entered. She wore a freshly pressed, buttoned down-collared shirt and matching gray jacket, skirt, and closed-toe heels. A pair of wire-rimmed glasses, leather purse, and pearl necklace completed the outfit.
“Sonja?” Jason asked, amazed.
“Quiet,” she said. “I saw them take you out of the coffee shop.” She shook her head as she saw the cuffs. “Why did you fight with that cop? That wasn’t going to do us any good.”
Jason shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“You’re an idiot, you know that? But that’s a discussion for later. Right now I’m going to try and finagle you out of here.” She looked down the hallway, then said, “I don’t know if this’ll work. But don’t make the situation any worse, okay? Just shut up, say as little as possible. If anyone asks, I’m your attorney.”
“You think I’m an idiot?” Jason said. “You’ve got a bachelor’s degree in psych, not a doctorate in law. There’s no flipping way you’ll be able to—”
“Just sit tight.” She closed the door. He listened to the clicking of her heels on the tile fade away as she walked off.
Jason rattled his cuffs again in annoyance. He craned his neck so that he had a clearer view of the conference room. The muffled sound of conversation went on for a couple of minutes. The Captain came out and headed back towards the office. Sonja followed in his wake, her expression carefully neutral.
“My apologies for the restraints, Mister Summer,” the Captain said. He pulled out a key and quickly removed the cuffs. Jason glared at him and rubbed his wrists. Sonja set her jaw and shook her head warningly. “You’re free to go.”
“Just like that?” Jason asked. He threw a quick glance at Sonja and added, “My…attorney…set the record straight for you?”
“Yes, Mister Summer. You seem to have friends in high places.” The Captain led him around to the station’s reception area. “The desk sergeant will give you your personal belongings back. Please wait here until you’re picked up.”
“Picked up?” Jason asked. The desk sergeant placed a wallet, key ring, and cell phone on the table, and then slid them into Jason’s waiting hands.
“Your brother and Dr. Rascher are on their way. Have a safe evening,” the Captain said pleasantly, and then turned away. Sonja nudged Jason with an elbow. She nodded toward the restrooms off to one side of the reception area.
“Nature calls,” Jason said to the desk sergeant. “I need a key or anything?”
“No, just turn the light off when you’re done,” the man said disinterestedly. He picked up his newspaper and, with a rustle, opened it to the sports section.
Jason went down to the men’s room. Sonja followed and locked the door behind them. Next to the sink, a large window of frosted glass hung half open. It creaked as she slid it all the way up.
“Sonja,” Jason said, “are you sure about this?”
“Yes. We’re not going back with Corey and Rascher. That means at best, house arrest. At worst…” She let the silence hang.
“I find you damned hard to argue with, sometimes,” he said with a sigh. Jason hefted himself through the window first, and then turned to help Sonja. He carried her over the section of soft dirt before putting Sonja’s high heels down on solid pavement.
“Very gallant of you,” she said. “Come on, this way.”
Trying to move quickly without attracting attention, they walked briskly along for several blocks. Eventually, they stopped on one of the side streets, opposite a raucous nightclub.
“What now?” Jason asked. The music throbbed dully from across the way. Sonja took a seat on one of the wooden benches that lined the sidewalk.
“Now is where we decide how far we’re willing to go with this. You were willing to ditch Rascher when h
e came for us. And I just broke us out of police custody. I don’t know where this all leads, but I’m sure of this: We go any further, and we’re going to face some very hard choices.”
“We’re not the only ones,” Jason said. He filled her in on his conversation with Tad. “Look, I know it sounds insane. But someone needs help or they’re going to die. No one else can help them. And Rascher…it sounds like all he cares about is studying whomever I’m talking to, like it’s some experiment in a lab.”
“I’d never call you insane,” Sonja said softly. “But if you want to do this, consider what you might bring upon yourself. Your career.”
Jason blew out a breath into the night air.
“I couldn’t live with myself. Not if Muriel’s brother died because I was concerned about meeting a publisher’s deadline.”
“What about Corey?”
“If he’s coming along with Rascher, I don’t think he’s on our side. Not anymore.” Jason stopped and knelt in front of Sonja, placing his hands on her knees. “This could get dangerous. You’re not in this, not deep. Walk away from me. Take a cab to San Francisco, catch a plane home.”
“Jason, you’re being foolish.” She looked at him. Her eyes glittered like emeralds in the light of the streetlamps. “I’m in this as deep as you are. I go where you go. I love you, babe.”
He drew her in close and kissed her forehead. “Love you too, you know.”
Sonja brushed a lock of her hair back and regarded him. “If it were up to me, I’d go help Muriel. And if that gives Rascher heartburn, then it’s a cherry on this sundae.”
“It’s settled, then.” Jason spotted an ATM further down the block. He went to the machine, and then came back with a wad of twenty-dollar bills in hand. “When Rascher finds out we’ve flown the coop, they’ll kick off a search. Be pretty easy to keep track of us via multiple credit card or ATM transactions. So this money will have to last us until…”
“Until what, exactly?”
“Until we get to wherever Muriel and Zander live. And until she tells us the where and how, our best bet is to head is towards Arizona.”
“Then say goodbye to your cell phone. It has GPS. Means they can track us.”
“I agree.” Jason tossed the phone away.
Sonja nodded her approval, and then added, “No airport or train station here in Napa. And the rental car companies are closed this time of night.”
“I wasn’t thinking of renting a car.” Jason said. Sonja raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment as they went around to the back of the nightclub.
The night was warm. More than a few of the cars had their windows cracked open. Jason found an SUV with a window down far enough for him to stick a hand through and unlock the doors. He slipped into the driver’s side, and then yanked off the cover of the steering column, exposing the wiring beneath.
Another minute went by while Sonja got in the passenger seat and watched tensely for anyone coming out of the club. Suddenly, the engine turned over with a lusty roar. Jason smiled, threw the vehicle into gear, and then pulled out of the lot.
The route out of Napa’s downtown and towards the freeway passed the police station. Right then, Jason saw what he least expected. His brother leaned against a lamp post by the station entrance. Corey held his head in his hands as if he were in pain. Rascher stood nearby, touching Corey’s shoulder and speaking quietly as if consoling him.
Jason hesitated. His foot came off the gas pedal and the car began to coast to a stop.
“Babe…” Sonja warned.
“I know,” Jason said, distractedly. “The freeway entrance is up ahead.”
“That’s not what I meant. We’re being followed.”
He glanced in the rear-view mirror. A long black sedan accelerated towards them. It pulled up almost even with their right rear quarter. Jason squinted as the driver’s window rolled down. He saw a metallic flash.
Wait a minute, he thought, Was that a gun I just saw?
Jason cringed as he heard a bang! The passenger-side rearview mirror exploded in a shower of glass.
He stomped his foot on the accelerator. The SUV leaped into motion and the sedan followed in its wake.
“Keep us steady, Jason!” Sonja admonished him.
“Steady?” Jason replied, between a string of curses. “What the hell for?”
Sonja fumbled in her purse. She pulled a handgun out and slapped in a magazine.
“So I can shoot those sons of bitches, that’s why!”
Jason looked on dumbfounded as she rolled her window down. Sonja turned in her seat. She braced her arms against the door frame. She fired twice. A pair of bullet holes spiderwebbed their pursuer’s windshield.
“Hang on!” Jason cried, as they came up to the freeway entrance ramp.
He threw the steering wheel hard to the right. Their rear bumper crunched into the sedan’s driver’s side. Jason leaned harder to the right. Forcing the sedan to turn with him.
Together, the vehicles cut the corner. They smacked into the raised cement lip of the sidewalk. Jason felt his vehicle slew around. With a heart-stopping screech, the SUV skidded off the pavement and into the air.
(…continued...)
To read the rest of Shards – The Darkfell Saga,
please visit your favorite online bookseller.
Print edition to come in Fall 2011.
Meet Michael Angel
Michael Angel is a professional writer whose books have been published internationally by mainstream ‘dead tree’ publishers in Italian, Portuguese, French, Dutch, Korean, German, Russian, and Chinese.
One of his nonfiction books was selected as a textbook for upper division biology courses in the California public university system. Nothing thrills him more than to know that somewhere, right now, there are bright young people who are required to read his work.
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