I remained in my seat, thanks to the straps. We circled the island and watched as the entire top end of Ball’s Pyramid slid into the ocean. Veronica kicked the rear thrusters on and flew directly above the crumbling volcano, heading for the coast.
“He said to stay low. Less chance of being spotted, or something,” Veronica said.
“Can you imagine seeing one of these in the skies?”
“It’s going to create some panic, but I expect everyone is already scared.” She glanced over and smiled at me. “I’m glad you made it.”
“Me too.”
“I’ll be honest, when the Umir shot us down earlier, I didn’t think we had a chance,” she admitted.
“Neither did I, but we managed to secure the weapons. The ships. Not that we’re much closer to winning this thing.”
“I wonder what’s going on out there.”
“The world?” I asked.
“We’ve only seen a small city off the Australian coast. What’s the US look like? Europe?” Veronica’s voice constricted. “I wish we could contact someone.”
Something dug into my chest from inside my breast pocket. I slid the strapping over my shoulder and pulled the alien device out. I pressed play and heard Mezpa’s voice as she spoke to her mate, Rewa.
“You held on to it.” Veronica snuck a glance but maintained her focus on flying the Rodax spacecraft.
“I lost my gun, but I had this zipped up.” I flipped it in my fingers and returned it to the safety of my pocket. “We’re almost there.” I pointed out the window. The cabin was basic. It smelled stale inside, and I wondered how many centuries this thing had sat beneath the old volcano.
Baska lowered his ship. The thrusters went from orange to yellow as he descended to the beach.
I spied a helicopter coming from inland, then another. “I think we’ve been seen.”
“Then we’d better hurry.” Veronica copied Baska’s path as best she could and almost threw us into a roll. She managed to recover, but not before my eyes went black from the force. This time, she didn’t bother to apologize as she nearly crash-landed on the sand. The sky was getting dark, marking the end of the day, and that might work to our advantage.
“Stay put. I’ll open the doors.” Baska had shown me how to drop the ramp and let the Rodax on board. I rushed down the hall, feeling insignificant in the spacious corridor. The Rodax were taller than us, giving me ample room.
The controls were simple, but the fact that they were in another language was a challenge. I’d been half drowned, and my shoulder ached when I moved my arm, so my memory was foggy at best.
My finger wavered over the controls, and I finally recalled. I hit the series of buttons, and the metal doors screeched open. The ramp was thin, and it expanded from the bottom of the ship into short steps.
I ran to the beach, searching for our allies. I noticed Tripp before any of the Rodax. They appeared from nowhere, as if they’d been hiding like chameleons. Tripp was the first up the ramp, and he clasped hands with me. “You look terrible, Rex.”
“You’re not much better,” I assured him. Tripp’s hair was longer these days, with shaggy bangs obscuring his eyes. He swept the dirty hair away and mumbled something about being stuck on a beach with aliens all day.
Gren came next, and he almost smiled when he saw me, but the sound of the incoming helicopter rotors wiped it from his face. Half of the Rodax went onto Baska’s craft, including Lewen, and the others came with us.
I sealed the ramp and doors up, and Gren had already replaced Veronica at the helm when I arrived in the cockpit. The area gave way to the benches, and the soldiers sat silently, each of them holding their large weapons in their grips.
“Are we expecting trouble?” I asked Gren.
“We’ve detected another Umir.” He pointed at the dash, where a screen showed a blinking icon a short distance from us.
“And we’re going to run?” I asked, remembering the one I’d disposed of at Ball’s Pyramid. I didn’t want to confront a red-eyed demon again.
“No. We’re trapping it.”
“Why would we do that?” Tripp exclaimed. “Let’s fly to the States, find our friends, and stop Jessica.”
“This is imperative. The Umir are controlled by a hub. A queen, if you will. It is the link for all the Umir. If we disable it, we can stop the Zalt army from paving the way for their entrance.” Gren used the wing’s thrusters, kicking up a sandstorm on the beach as he lurched from Australia. Baska’s craft was ahead, and I nearly lost my footing as I stood behind Gren.
“What do you mean by ‘paving the way’?” I asked.
“If what you say is accurate, these Believers will already have the Zalt inside their minds. The Umir create a frequency. When emitted, it will open your entire population up to the Zalt,” Gren said.
Tripp scratched at his head. “You mean those things are going to enable a network that consumes our minds?”
“That is correct. No one will be safe if this happens.” Gren continued to pilot us north.
“You had your chance on the beach. Why didn’t you bring it?” Veronica asked our guide.
“That thing was too far gone. We need it intact to track the hub’s location,” Gren said.
“Wait. You need it alive?” Tripp pulled on his straps, glancing at a big female Rodax beside him. He eyed her snub-nosed gun for a second.
“Yes. We have to capture it.” Gren seemed far less worried about this than he should have been.
Veronica sat next to Gren, and she zoomed out on his radar ping. “I think I know where we’re heading.”
“Where?” I saw the land forming on his map and recognized the gulf. “Thailand?”
Veronica met my gaze. “Thailand.”
Tripp had a cell phone in his hand, and he shook it. “We can’t get a signal. No word from your friend at the FBI.”
“Damn it.” I settled into the seat and belted in. There were so many things happening, and my allies back home were so far away.
____________
Another day of paddling. The oars endlessly dipped into the water. Dirk’s muscles bunched at the movement, his neck straining from overuse. The sun had long ago set, leaving the pair of them alone in the middle of nowhere, the glint of starlight the only means of guidance.
Opor had pointed out the star to follow, and he did so without question. She dozed across the bench ahead, her chest rising and falling smoothly. This was her. The flesh and blood of the woman he loved. How strange to have her occupied by a being from the Zalt. Rewa.
There were many moments when Dirk questioned whether or not he could trust the alien, but he had to believe in something: a resolution for their current plight.
Dirk stroked the oars, forcing the boat toward their destination. He stared at Opor. Could he possibly live out his days on Rimia with her, and let the Zalt win their invasion on Earth? Or was the proper move to fight on, defeating the Zalt, conceivably losing both of their lives in the process?
Dirk assumed there was a way to exorcise her inhabitant, Rewa. He didn’t have the knowledge and doubted there was anything he could currently do to help her. He’d need to wait, heed Rewa’s suggestions, and trust the being to vacate her as promised when the chance came.
His thoughts drifted to Rexford. At first, it had been bizarre to find his son a full-grown man, over forty. It was like he’d blinked, and his children had gone from carefree kids to nearly his own age. When he was in the middle of the action, it hadn’t sunk in, but now, with time to spare in the middle of the giant body of water, it was all flooding back.
He daydreamed about his wife, Rebecca, and their wedding. It had been a minor affair, only attended by their closest friends and her parents. He’d chosen not to tell his own family. Some bridges were too burned to cross again.
He pictured Rebecca: wavy hair, and a smile that couldn’t hide her excitement, no matter what. It had been magical. They were married. Wedded bliss.
Dirk slowed
his paddling and rubbed his eyes. Beverly looked just like her mother—and Rebecca was dead.
Dirk had made a lot of bad choices throughout their marriage. He’d rarely been home for more than a week at a time, and even though the kids had pretended not to mind, he’d endured their constant disappointment at finding his packed bags by the front door.
Maybe it was for the best. He wouldn’t be here with Opor, with one of the Zalt controlling her mind, if he’d done it any differently. It did little to ease the guilt as he continued paddling, even if some cosmic puppeteer had forced him to meet Brian Hardy. To befriend Clayton Belvedere. To contact with the eccentric Hunter Madison. He’d still felt a breath of relief each time he’d slammed the car door and driven away from his house.
Most men wanted nothing more than the white picket fence. The beautiful wife. Two adoring children. One boy. One girl. From the outside, Dirk Walker had been living the American dream. Inside, all he’d wanted was to search the seas for sunken treasure. To climb Kilimanjaro, and quest for long-lost clues in the Amazon.
The worst part was, he saw the exact same thing when he watched his son. Rex was him. He was Rex. Dirk set the pace even faster, determined to help Opor lead him to the Objects. If there was any chance to assist the deflection of the Zalt invasion, Dirk would do it. For his children. For the wife he’d left behind. For everyone out there that still had hopes and dreams. They deserved for their stories to be told.
Some time later, Dirk awoke, and Opor grinned at him. “You did well.”
He didn’t recall falling asleep, but the sun was up, cresting above the distant treeline. They’d almost reached the shore. Dirk drank from their canteen and passed it over to her.
“Tell me why you chose Hunter.” He searched his pack and took a piece of smoked fish.
“It doesn’t exactly work like that,” Opor said.
“Then explain,” Dirk urged. He guessed they were about twenty minutes from the shore.
“We visited long ago. One named Erilios. It means ‘defender’ in our tongue. He left knowledge of our people. It prepared us for the eventuality of our arrival. You must know something about my people. The Zalt are nomads. A mere five thousand of your years, and we devour the planet. Our energy is powerful. We cannot be contained.”
“What are you?” Dirk asked, still unsure.
“It is difficult to describe.” Opor smiled again, and he found himself relaxing.
“And Hunter?”
“Mezpa and I made a choice. We understood the others were leaving our latest home. The ground was dry, the water depleted. Trees, animals, the local beings we inhabited, were all dead. We were reverting to our natural forms, and they made the decision to depart. To a planet we hoped was prepared. Earth.” They neared the shore, and Dirk offered to paddle the rest of the way. Opor passed him the oars. “I left. The trek was perilous, dangerous even for a being as experienced as me. It was also lonely.”
Dirk could appreciate that.
“When I arrived, I sought purchase across the globe. Only one mind was prepared for me, a strong individual. He’d learned to attune from the Believers, the very same cult he’d abandoned a few years before. Hunter practiced, finding it more of a meditation than an alien calling. I locked in. But I was too aggressive, and I shattered his own mind. Even if I’d wanted to exit his body, he would have been left in a coma. I understand this now, which is why I entered Opor with care.” She kept smiling, but Dirk’s stomach clenched at the words.
“Do you remember our first interaction?” Dirk asked.
“You were so young. The real Hunter had hired you for a job on Baffin Island. I convinced you to start seeking the Tokens. Of course, I was aware of the Rodax and their Seedling worlds. The Zalt seemed less than concerned about them, as most of their planets never come to fruition. I thought that if I could just access the Bridge, I would be able to help your world. To stop my people from continuing their destructive habits. Don’t forget, this is their nature.”
Dirk’s oars struck the lake’s floor, and he stood, using the paddles to push their boat closer to the shore. “If the Zalt didn’t worry about the Rodax, why were Jessica and the Believers so determined to keep the Bridge closed?”
“They didn’t know where it led,” Opor said. Dirk knew he shouldn’t think of her as Opor, but he couldn’t call her Rewa, not to himself. She would be returned once this was done.
They both climbed out, the water sloshing to their knees, and they dragged the small boat up to the beach. It was rocky, and Dirk trod cautiously, careful not to roll an ankle.
“But you did?” Dirk asked. “You knew it led to Rimia?”
“I had my suspicions.” That was all the answer he’d receive.
“Why are you being so circumspect? You know me. We’ve been friends since I was in my twenties.” Dirk used his hand as a blind, blocking the rising sunlight. The trees on this side of the lake were skinny, dying. He guessed these had once been rising hills, covered in grass. Dirk listened for signs of animals, or the large birds common at the Rimia village. Nothing but silence, and the gentle lapping of the lake water.
Opor turned to face him, and she grimaced. It was a look he was too familiar with. “There is much you won’t understand.”
“Try me,” he pleaded.
“Rimia was once a prospering world. Ages ago, the Rodax settled here, leaving their Seedlings behind. Those people thrived, growing faster than most. About ninety percent of the Rodax worlds die off within ten thousand years. The founders on Rimia were much like the humans of Earth. They were entering what you would call an industrial revolution, on the precipice of a great movement for their people. I suspect that within five hundred years, they would have had space travel.” Opor glanced past him, staring at the lake.
She reached into the boat and passed him one of their two packs. He slung it across his shoulders and followed her up the rocky beach, toward a break in the hills. The ground crunched under his weight.
“The Zalt came.” Opor was ahead, and her voice was small. “We used this place like most, but quickly found we were not compatible. We dominated the locals, killing most in the process. The Zalt were the ones to destroy their cities, but not physically. These people did it to themselves, much like humans will eventually do to Earth.”
Dirk felt sick at the idea of alien beings mind-controlling his people, causing them to turn on their own race. “What happened?”
Opor kept walking, moving east. “We left some of them behind. Ten of the Zalt remained inside them. That is the great sacrifice. They were there to ensure that the people of Rimia offered a link for the Zalt to connect to Rimia if necessary. We didn’t know there was a Bridge here.”
“Threshold,” Dirk reminded her.
“Yes.” Opor adjusted her pack and strode on. “Generations passed, and without the Umir available to link us to the people, they used drugs from a root we planted for them to harvest. They thought it was spirit walking, that they were talking to their ancestors, but it was us.”
Dirk shook his head. “Why did your people leave Rimia?”
She pointed at the dry, gray ground. “We absorbed it too quickly. This planet wasn’t old enough. That happens, but it causes us grief. We lose some of our people with each move.”
Dirk stared at her back, wondering what the hell the Zalt actually looked like. He supposed he’d find out eventually. “And you left a path to the Objects?”
“Yes. We always do. Our Exodus has been trying, Dirk. We’ve searched for so long. The Zalt believe Earth is this place.”
“Why Earth?” They crested a hill, and he could see for miles in each direction. It was desolate. Consumed.
“It has the perfect conditions, though we should have gone two hundred years ago, before your world globalized. The Zalt don’t suspect any issues. That will be their downfall,” Opor said.
“Where’s the link to your ships?” Dirk asked, scanning the horizon.
She pointed to the north. �
��Twenty miles.”
“Okay. Let’s get moving.” Dirk was done waiting. His son and daughter were counting on him, even if they didn’t know it.
“Since we’re being honest here, Dirk, I do have something else to tell you.”
Dirk noticed her wriggling her fingers like Hunter used to do. It once again reminded him that this was not Opor. “Then spit it out.” The words erupted with more anger than he’d intended.
She didn’t seem fazed. “There’s another reason I wanted to get the Bridge so badly.”
Dirk had suspected this might be the case. “Other than saving humanity?”
“Yes.”
“It’s her, isn’t it? Your mate. Mezpa. The one from the recording?”
Opor glanced back to him, her eyes misty. “I have to see her again. Then it will all be worth it. We can die together.”
“But not before stopping the Zalt, right?” Dirk ensured.
“That is the plan.”
They walked on in silence, Dirk understanding Rewa more than ever. His motivations had been murky before, but now they made sense. He shifted his focus to the twenty-mile journey on this lifeless ground, and set foot after foot.
5
The Umir crashed near a hidden village in the middle of the jungle. This was just as well. No one would see us coming or going in alien spacecraft. And if we ran into any locals, the power was out, so they wouldn’t be able to alert anyone.
It was pitch black when we arrived, and we occasionally saw the glint of outdoor fires through the jungle canopy.
“There’s no city within a hundred miles of here,” Tripp said.
“I hope they have a good plan, because I don’t think I want to face one of those robots again.” Veronica concentrated as she lowered the ship, following Baska’s landing as well as she could. There wasn’t much space between the trees, and she clipped a couple of them on the way down.
When we exited the ship, letting the Rodax soldiers go first, I noticed the wing’s thrusters had burned some of the jungle around us. A few leaves were still on fire, but they quickly snuffed out in the humid night.
Lost Hope (The Bridge Sequence Book Three) Page 6
