My hands were shaking, and I wasn’t sure if that was from being cold or from nerves. More likely a combination of the two. “Do you think my dad found Opor?” The thought came out of left field.
“I hope so,” Veronica said softly. “He was in love, wasn’t he?”
I stared at her, remembering that I’d told her I loved her, but she hadn’t reciprocated the sentiment. “He was.”
“We’ve lost a lot getting here,” she said.
“We’ll find my sister and Marcus.” Saying it reaffirmed the plan.
“I know we will. Tripp has the Case, and if Jessica wants it, she can have the Bridge. We’ll stop this Umir hub, and…”
“What about the Believers?” I asked. “The Objects are still coming. The cult isn’t slowing down either.”
“One thing at a time. The Rodax will help.”
I glanced over at Baska and saw the console had blinked to life. An icon glowed from the corner of the screen. “Let’s hope they aren’t in over their heads. Sending a dozen soldiers along with us? Seems short-sighted.”
The lights in the cavern burned from above, and Baska wiped his palms on his black jumpsuit. He looked at me with eyes so strikingly human. “Don’t fear, Rexford Walker. We will do our best to prevent the Zalt from invading.”
The ships powered up. They were each fifty meters long if an inch, and a ramp lowered from the closest to us.
Baska led Veronica onto the nearest ship. The entrance was invisible from first glance, but the door recessed into the craft, and they stepped on. “Let me show you how to navigate. We must go to the coast for our allies. Then we’ll track the hub.”
I followed them on board and sat on a bench while they discussed the mechanics of the Rodax vessel.
My thoughts drifted back to Marcus and Bev. I hoped they were okay.
____________
Marcus stretched and felt something pop. He’d spent countless nights sleeping on an uncomfortable mattress at the dorms at college, but he’d grown spoiled in the couple of years since.
The window in his room was small, but he slid it open, letting the morning air refresh him. It was too hot in here at night. He still didn’t know exactly where they were, but they’d been driven, and judging by the time, he estimated Georgia or even Florida. The weather was warm, but not tropical, and there was no snow on the ground. All he could see from here was the ocean. The house was butted up against the coast, and he was on the second floor, maybe third. It was tough to tell.
They’d been hiding out in Hunter’s place near Boston. Evan had skipped town, heading off to investigate what he thought was another Believers convention, probably to replace the one they’d set up in the Colorado Rockies. Marcus had asked him to stay, but Evan had been adamant on leaving.
The cult had come the very next night.
The kids had been sleeping, and Bev was outside on the porch watching the snowfall. She’d grown distant after Saul’s death, and the moment her brother and dad went to Portugal, she’d become even more withdrawn. Carson and Edith were suffering. They never asked about their dad any longer, both old enough to understand that he was dead.
Marcus had been sitting in the kitchen, working on his computer, when he’d heard the car door close. He wasn’t used to this protection business and had left his gun inside his bedroom. He ran for it but didn’t succeed before the doors were busted down and the toxic gas was tossed into the house.
He woke up two hours later, tied up in the back of a van. Bev and her kids were out cold, and Marcus didn’t even bother to attempt to free himself. The bonds were too tight.
This was the second time he’d been kidnapped, and he felt helpless. All he could do now, as he paced the bedroom he’d spent the last three weeks locked inside, was wait. He’d find a window of opportunity, and instead of being the powerless victim like he’d done so far, he’d escape. He’d free Bev, and hopefully kill whoever held them captive.
“Marcus, you up?” Bev asked through the wall.
He walked across the room and slid to the floor. “Yep.”
The room was painted white, and only his cot adorned the corner of the space. He thought he saw footsteps outside the door, then they were gone.
“It’s a nice day,” she said.
“Looks like it.” Marcus and Bev endured a lot of small talk about mundane things, back and forth across the studs and drywall. Carson and Edith joined in sometimes. Other occasions, they stayed quiet, preferring to sleep the dreaded days away.
“It’s been a month.” Her voice was quieter.
“Yeah. They should be here soon.” He didn’t tell her he meant Rex or Tripp. She’d assume he meant the Objects. So would anyone else listening in to their conversation.
“I hope so. Let’s get this over with.”
The lock on Marcus’ door rattled, and he quickly climbed to his feet. The Believer that entered was a thickset man, eyes dark as midnight. “Come with me.”
Marcus sized the guy up and surveyed the room. There was nothing to strike him with, not to mention he was far bigger than Marcus. “Finally serving that brunch you’ve been promising?”
The man moved fast, his palm slapping Marcus across the cheek. Not too hard, but solid enough to sting. “No more jokes.”
Marcus hadn’t left the room yet, and he eyed the exit suspiciously. “Seriously. Where are we going?”
“She wants to see you.”
She. That could only be one person. The Sovereign. Jessica Carver.
Marcus had been blindfolded on arrival, but now he was free to see the surroundings. They were in a big house, the hallway floors an old refinished hardwood. They walked down the hall, finding a staircase with ornate cherry wood railings. The big cultist descended the steps, and Marcus searched for anything to use as a weapon. Even if he managed to club this guy, Bev and the children were still upstairs. He’d never be able to free them before reinforcements arrived.
The foyer had tall vases on expensive stands, and Marcus was led to the kitchen from a butler’s pantry.
“Marcus. Come. Have a seat.” Jessica wore an apron, white with pink flowers on it. She was rolling dough, a spot of flour on her nose.
“What do you want with us?” he asked.
“I’ve made a bargain with your friend.”
Rex? Was he back? Marcus held his questions inside, waiting for her to speak again.
“Rex is on his way.” She smiled and kept rolling. A timer buzzed, and she pulled a tray from a double wall oven, setting it on the quartz countertops. The sweet smell of chocolate cookies filled the room.
“I don’t buy that,” Marcus said. He peered at the exit and saw the shadow of her henchman. There was a knife block behind Jessica, but she didn’t seem too worried.
“I spoke to him last night, from your phone. He’s coming for the trade.”
“You actually talked to him?” Marcus’ pulse raced. If Rex was back, maybe they had allies with them.
“He’s bringing me the Bridge. Though with the outages, he won’t know where to find me.” She glanced up at him and started to ball the dough, placing the cookies on a fresh baking sheet.
The entire scenario was unsettling. Especially seeing Jessica so calm amidst the invasion.
“What happened last night?” Marcus asked. There had been a few hours of a raging storm, and he’d endured Edith’s crying for most of it.
He’d pulled the cot to the window and watched the event. It was akin to hell raining down on Earth.
“The meteor storm? A little gift from our friends, the Unknowns.” Jessica smiled again. She slid the baked cookies onto a plate and reached it over to him. Marcus shook his head, but he was hungry, and they did smell good.
He snatched one and blew on it before biting into the warm cookie. “What were they? The meteors?” he asked with his mouth full.
Marcus noticed Jessica’s eyes and wondered if they were always that shade of brown, or if one of the Unknowns was in there. “Something t
o help our cause. We’ve been trained to attune for their arrival, but not everyone has. With the advanced scouts, we’re able to link the Unknowns to the people.”
Marcus stopped chewing. “Wait. You can download the aliens into the general population’s minds?”
Jessica didn’t answer, but her expression was enough of a giveaway. She changed the subject. “Where did Rex go?”
“When?”
“He vanished. It took weeks to contact him on your phone. Why?” Jessica stuck the second tray into the oven, and removed the apron. She picked up a chopping knife and walked closer to Marcus.
“No clue. He was in Portugal. Things are messy everywhere. People are scared. Governments are shutting things down,” Marcus said.
“I think you’re lying. You know exactly where he was.” The blade was at her side, but it was no less threatening. Marcus stole a glance across the kitchen and saw another guard. He was cornered. If he tried fighting Jessica, he’d be killed.
“What does it matter? If he’s coming to bring the Bridge, you get what you want.” Marcus backed away.
She followed. “But I need to understand what he was doing. Where did he go? Did he cross the Bridge? Does he have friends with him?”
Marcus shook his head. “Look, lady, I’ve been holed up in a tiny bedroom for a month. How would you expect me to have this kind of information? Ask him yourself when he comes.”
A knock came from the butler’s pantry. The big man that had ushered Marcus downstairs entered the kitchen. “Sovereign. He’s here.”
“Thank you, Grady. Tell him to meet us in the back yard.” Jessica returned the knife and pointed to the door leading outside. “I want you to see this, Marcus.”
He didn’t question her, just went to the exit and stepped out onto the patio. The morning was crisp, and he hugged his arms to his chest. He was in a black t-shirt with jeans and no socks.
Jessica wore a form-fitting pencil skirt and white blouse with an oversized collar. She looked like a million bucks. It was the ultimate juxtaposition. How could someone so evil be so easy on the eyes?
The sky was clear after last night’s storm, and Marcus let the sun beat down on his face. He’d been deprived of sunlight for weeks, and the simple act reminded him of the basic needs in life. A man walked closer, and Marcus recognized him: not only from the speech in the cavern near Boulder, but the countless news feeds.
It was Vice President Alan Black.
“Hello, Sovereign.” He bowed his head in deference, and Jessica didn’t react.
“About time you came.”
“We had some delays.” Alan looked at Marcus and squinted, as if trying to understand who he was and why he was present. Marcus wondered the same thing.
“Freedom Earthers?” Jessica asked.
“Of course. Those bastards have gone rampant,” Alan said. “They blocked off the interstate. Had to take some 4X4 paths through some sketchy fields to get here in one piece.”
Marcus stood taller at the news. The Freedom Earthers were rallying. That was good news. They’d heard about them on Bill McReary’s show. At the time, Evan Young had thought they might be an underfunded militia group, but maybe he was mistaken.
Marcus hoped Evan was working with them. That would be one positive synchronicity for their side of the conflict.
“Soon they won’t matter, Alan.” Jessica pointed to a shed at the rear of the yard. Grady, the big guard, came with them, his hand resting on a holstered gun. He wore a gray suit, and Marcus saw a patch of sweat seeped into his jacket.
Ocean water sprayed as the waves hit the rocks near the property line, and Marcus glanced at the house. It was gigantic. He looked at the rooms where he and Bev were staying imprisoned, and he waved in case Bev was watching him. He wanted to show he was okay, even if he wasn’t.
“I hope you’re right, Jessica, because I think these Freedom Earthers know I’m here,” Alan said.
“How could they?” Jessica asked. She kicked off her high heels and left them on the grass. The yard was damp in the shade, and she kept following the guard until they reached the shed. It was a sturdy structure, and Jessica went to the door. She gazed at the keypad lock, blocking the code as she entered it.
She stepped away as Grady opened the shed. They stared at a metal ball about three feet in diameter. The material was dull like a brushed chrome, but slightly darker.
“This is it?” Alan didn’t seem excited by the ball. Marcus was curious, though.
Jessica smirked at the Vice President. “Alan, you have no idea what we’re dealing with here.”
“Don’t give me attitude. You’d be—”
Jessica walked over to him and grabbed his throat. She squeezed, and his hands wrapped around her skinny wrist. “Don’t speak back to me, Black. I am the Sovereign. If I didn’t need your authority to succeed here in the US, I’d kill you where you stand. A short, fat, balding man with a penchant for power. That’s all you are.” She let go, and he gasped, rubbing his neck. “Don’t forget that I was chosen to lead us. They picked me. Out of everyone.”
“Yes, ma’am. I apologize. I’ve been under a lot of stress…”
Marcus couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. He felt like a fly on the wall.
“No one cares. We have a job to do, and we will accomplish our goals. We have a week. Less. Six days now. The Unknowns requested we connect their Umir. It will allow them to arrive with ease.” Jessica’s gaze drifted to the metallic ball.
Umir? What was she talking about? This sphere was some kind of a beacon? Marcus stared at it. He jumped when it beeped.
“So this is what they sent,” Alan said, appraising the Umir.
“Why don’t you take a closer look?” Jessica asked him. Marcus saw a glint of amusement in her face.
Alan walked nearer and set a hand on it. He stumbled backwards, falling onto his seat when it began to unravel. The ball rotated, and the metal sheet rose higher and higher, stopping at around ten feet in height. Marcus’ breath caught, and he didn’t trust himself not to scream. Angry red dots gaped at him, then at Grady, and finally at Alan. The head was small, like a shiny coconut. It had no mouth, just glowing lights for eyes.
Alan scrambled away. “You could have warned me!”
Marcus was frozen in terror. This was a real live alien robot.
“Relax, Alan. He’s not going to hurt you—unless I want him to.” Jessica walked over to it. The Umir had two appendages bordering its torso, and one of them hinged up. They were weapons. “We’re going to test this. See if it works on the localized level.”
All eyes settled on Marcus, and he looked around, wondering if there was any chance to outrun this metal monster.
“Not him. Grady, would you do the honors?” Jessica asked her henchman.
“Me? I thought…”
“You haven’t attuned yet, correct?” Jessica sauntered over and unclasped his gun from his holster, taking it. The weapon was large in her grip.
“I haven’t, as you requested.”
Marcus assumed that meant she had attuned. Was there an alien inside her now? She seemed quite human.
“Good. Then let’s see if it works.” She turned her attention to the Umir and spoke softly. “Teeri repolir calinan.” The bright eyes pulsed.
Grady’s posture stiffened, and he jabbed his arms in the air. A vicious scream tore through his throat as he closed his eyes. When he opened them, they’d turned a pale blue.
“Sovereign. You honor us with your sacrifice. The hub has been damaged. You must activate it and link the Umir network. Five days remain.” The voice was Grady’s, but it held a strange accent to it.
“If you’ll tell me where the—”
“This Umir will guide you there.”
Jessica nodded in reverence. “Yes, Unknown. Can you…”
Grady’s hand flew to his face, and he mopped it across his brow. His eyes’ capillaries burst before he fell to the grass in a heap. He was dead.
�
��Alan, it seems like there’s a bit of an issue. We have to repair the Umir hub,” she said.
“Send me. I can do that.” Alan didn’t look confident as he stared at her guard’s corpse.
“No. I have other plans for you. You will stay, finish what we worked on. Ensure order in our country using any means necessary. When I link the hub within five days, we’ll be ready for their arrival.” Jessica started to walk away, and the Umir shifted, compacting into a sphere. It rolled along behind her. Alan Black and Marcus watched each other, as if neither knew what to do.
“Marcus?” Jessica asked. “Rex told me you were a whiz with computers.”
“That’s right,” he said.
“Good. You’re coming with me.”
4
“You sure you’re able to fly this?” I asked Veronica. She’d only had an hour of instruction from Baska, but Veronica nodded and laughed, as if my concern was unfounded.
“I’d tell you otherwise. Not that we have a choice.” She pressed a round button on the console. “Baska, we’re prepared for departure.”
“Stand by.” Baska’s communication ended, and the ground beneath us rocked violently. The cockpit was wide, and I took the seat beside Veronica. The interior of the ship was unadorned, with black and gray fabric, flooring, and bulkheads. The overhead cabin was lighter gray, connecting to the windshield that curved around the ship’s nose, giving us a good view outside our spacecraft.
The cavern under Ball’s Pyramid started to spread apart, and ocean water poured in, rising between our two vessels. Water trickled down our windshield, and the ships began to float to the surface.
“This is so weird,” I mumbled.
“I think I prefer the helicopter,” Veronica said. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, and a few errant frizzy hairs framed her face. Despite her comments, I could see she was in her element. It gave me trust in the situation. “Here goes nothing.”
She powered the wing’s thrusters as she’d been directed, and water churned nearby. We bucked and shook, but rose from the ocean, following Baska’s path. Veronica swore when the nose started to dive, but she regained power, playing with the controls. “Sorry about that.”
Lost Hope (The Bridge Sequence Book Three) Page 5
