“Good work, Bill,” Saul said.
“Why couldn’t we just tell him?”
“Because he’s hunting Believers.”
“So?” Bill tensed. All those comments he’d made to the military guard a couple days ago...
“I’m a Believer, Bill. Haven’t you figured it out?”
6
Marcus was wide awake, while Jessica slept in the seat beside him. He’d considered how he could escape this situation countless times over the last day, but nothing seemed plausible. Two Believers sat in the front, guns in holsters. They were dressed in suits, two big men who looked more appropriate for the Secret Service than for protecting a cult leader. He supposed they might have worked for the Vice President at some point.
The SUV still emitted that new car scent. It grew stronger when he turned the AC on, using the controls behind the console. They were well into Louisiana, circumventing the populated southern part of the state. He didn’t know where they were heading, but he assumed it was Texas.
Grady had told them they had five days to accomplish their mission, before he’d died at the mansion in Georgia. Turned out they’d been close to Savannah, in some rich suburb an hour from the city center. Bev was still there with the kids. He felt like he’d abandoned them, but there was no other choice.
“How much longer? I have to use the bathroom,” Marcus said, loudly on purpose. Jessica’s eyes sprang open, and she peered out the window, then at her armed escorts.
“Where are we?” The sun was setting, and she yawned, sticking her hand over her mouth.
“Hour north of Lafayette,” the driver said.
“We’re making good time. How about we take a break?” she ordered as they passed a sign for a rest stop two miles ahead.
Their SUV slowed and exited for the run-down gas station. The lights were off, but the driver tested the fuel pump, finding it was an upgraded one that still operated using a hidden generator. He set to filling the tank, while Marcus wandered off in search of the bathroom.
“Barry, go with him,” Jessica told the other Believer.
“Yes, ma’am.” Barry walked after Marcus.
He couldn’t get a moment alone. Marcus tested the lock on the side of the gas station and found it unlatched. He went into a stall and started to panic. The door opened, and he heard the man enter.
It was dark inside, with the dim light of dusk carrying through a greasy window above the sink. Barry ran the water, and Marcus listened as he splashed his face.
He needed to find a way out. This might be his only shot. What would Rex do? He tried to picture his good friend in his shoes, and visualized him kicking the door open, striking Barry over the head with the toilet tank lid. Rex would grab his gun and dash off into the forest behind the highway.
Marcus flushed and tested the toilet tank. It was bolted to the wall. A dirty plunger sat on the floor. Not an ideal weapon.
“Hurry up,” Barry called, and the door once again went wide, sending a block of light into the bathroom. Then it closed. Marcus waited a moment, and when he decided Barry had exited, he turned the partition lock.
The window would lead him outside, where Barry was waiting, but there was also a wire grate across the bathroom. That led to the gas station’s convenience store. He hopped onto the sink ledge and tugged at the grate. It was loose. He used his fingers, grasping at the screw on the left, and he undid it enough to yank the grate free.
With one last glance at the door, Marcus launched into the vent, and was glad to see it was only a foot deep. He stepped through, into the employees’ room. He climbed past the ancient microwave and almost fell in the overflowing garbage can. The table was stacked full of used dirty magazines.
“I said hurry up!” Barry’s voice boomed, causing Marcus to sweat. He hustled out into the main business. The lights were off, and he surged to the front doors. They were locked, and he saw Jessica standing near the front seat, leaning on the SUV. He couldn’t leave that way.
He ran through the building, finding a tiny warehouse dock at the rear. A metal door awaited him, and he used the deadbolt, rushing into the evening air. He was still barefoot, but he didn’t care. Marcus ran.
It reminded him of that time in Florida when he was a kid, and his friend stole a six-pack from the shelves. When the business owner shouted for them to stop, they’d ran for it. They’d escaped, only to have warm shaken-up beer an hour later. He’d never forgiven his friend for pulling that stunt.
The trees were thin and jagged things, not providing much cover. If Barry searched back here, he’d have no problem tracking Marcus. He prayed the sun would set faster today.
A minute later, his breaths were labored, and he heard shouts from behind him. They knew he’d fled. This pushed him to go faster.
It might not have been what Rex would have done, but it still worked. Marcus had to remember that sometimes there were multiple paths to the same result. It was like that with computers, and with sports. Basically anything.
His feet ached, and he stepped on something sharp, the piercing pain jutting up his arch and into his ankle. This didn’t stop him.
Marcus broke free from the trees onto a road. It was darker. A miracle.
He stood in the middle of the street, trying to catch his breath, and a car’s horn blasted through the air as the screech of the brakes echoed down the way.
“What do you think you’re doing, son?” an old man asked, shaking his fist out the window.
“I…” Marcus walked past him, trying to keep pushing. A metal sphere rolled up, bashing the van at an intense speed. The van crumpled in half, and the man was squashed inside.
Marcus watched as the Umir unraveled from its ball and stood on the destroyed van. The guns extended, and it shot the man in the driver’s seat, who’d been barely hanging on as it was.
Marcus raised his hands, fighting the urge to run. If he moved, the robot would end him. Its red eyes bore down on Marcus, and its head tilted slightly, as if trying to register his next action.
“Stand down!” It was Jessica. She emerged from the trees, her high heels dangling in her fingertips.
The Umir jumped off the van, cracking the cement as it landed. Its eyes blinked once, and the weapons receded before it returned into a sphere shape. The ball rolled protectively toward Jessica, and stayed there.
“You have some nerve, Marcus.” Jessica’s chest was heaving, and the guards arrived, guns at ready. She’d outrun them. No surprise there. She was clearly a supervillain.
“I don’t want to help you,” he said.
“Too bad. One day you’ll recall this moment, Marcus, and you’ll thank me for sparing you. When our saviors arrive and fix this world, you’ll understand,” she said, smiling as genuinely as he’d ever seen.
It became abundantly obvious. Jessica Carver believed her own ideologies. She thought the Unknowns were actually going to be a good thing. She was determined that her organization would be responsible for ushering in a new era and a better Earth.
Marcus’ shoulders slumped as he crossed the road and let them lead him to the SUV at the gas station. He didn’t take his gaze off the Umir.
They returned to the SUV, the Umir settled into the back of the vehicle. The tires almost rubbed the wheel wells as they drove off, heading into the dusk.
____________
“Mexico.” Tripp smiled. “That’s more like it.”
“If you think this will be as simple as tossing a rope around an unsuspecting robot, I doubt that’ll be the case,” I told him. “Do you see the way Gren and Lewen discuss this? They’re scared. Veronica, tell me you don’t think they realize they’re in over their heads.”
“They hadn’t been expecting the Umir to be here so soon. We were late.” Veronica was hanging on better than I was. “At least we’ll be on the proper side of the world. When we finish up there, we can make the bargain with Jessica.”
“And then what? The Objects are still coming. We only have a few days
before they attempt their mass attuning,” I groaned.
“Without the hub queen, the Umir will fail,” Tripp reminded me.
“The Zalt will try to do whatever they can to take Earth.” I paced up and down the ship’s corridor. The soldiers were with their Rodax leaders, speaking in their own language.
“Rex isn’t wrong. We saw what they did to my dad.” Veronica hugged her arms around herself as if she felt a draft. “What are the Zalt?”
“Another thing we need to ask the Rodax. We were so rushed in bringing them to Earth, we didn’t receive answers.” I peered at their meeting, and Lewen’s lavender eyes met my gaze. I waved for her to join us, and she whispered something in Gren’s ear before exiting the cockpit.
“Yes?” Lewen had short brown hair, only slightly longer than her male counterparts. She swept it to the side, tucking it behind her ears. The lobes were wider than ours, and she squeezed one. I must have been staring.
Tripp took the lead. “We want some answers while we’re waiting.”
“Okay. I understand we were quick to depart Kabos, and that was because of the pressing invasion. Gren will be lifting off soon, so let’s have a seat. I will respond to all your inquiries,” she said. I don’t know why I’d expected resistance from her. She was always kind, as were the others. One of the Rodax had been killed at the Thai village, and my heart ached for their loss.
We took our seats along the benches, and Gren lifted off, telling us we were heading for Mexico. The trip would take three hours. The soldiers across from us kept their eyes averted from our conversation, but if they knew English, they’d have a hard time ignoring our words.
“The Zalt. What are they?” I asked. “We understand that they can hop into our minds, and feasibly control us. Are they flesh and blood?” I pinched my own arm for emphasis.
Lewen sat to my right, with Veronica on the opposite side. Tripp was next to her. The Rodax woman gritted her teeth and finally reacted. “The Zalt are organic, but not as you’d assume.”
“How can that be?” Veronica asked.
“They have a body, housing a destructive energy. Long ago, perhaps they were beings as you and I are, but they’ve evolved, or maybe some type of mutation occurred. They rely on hosts, but their energy is caustic. It takes a powerful and qualified host to house one, and even then, the vessel can burn out quickly.” Lewen’s mouth moved swiftly as she explained. “You said your father, Clayton, had a Zalt inside him, correct?”
“Yes. For a few years. Dirk thought it was sporadically present,” Veronica told her.
“I doubt that. It was more likely that your father fended the invader off for periods of time. The Zalt lock in, and it is difficult to remove one, at least until the host dies. Then they are sent back where they came from.”
“And where is that?” Tripp leaned forward, so he could see Lewen.
“I haven’t encountered them personally, and there is much we haven’t learned, but we suspect their essences are stored on the very Objects you’ve described to us. They are homeless, seeking refuge. We’d actually believed the Zalt were extinct before you told us they continued.”
“Extinct?” I prompted.
“Yes. They’ve had a few rough patches in their last couple of takeover attempts.” Lewen rested her hands on her knees, and I saw her nails were long and white.
“Then they’re weak?” Tripp asked.
“I can’t say. They still have their Umir, and the queen, which will make the Zalt invasion much simpler if the network is finished. Your people will either be fried or subjugated, depending on how things go,” Lewen said.
Tripp sighed. “You’re not giving us a lot of hope here, lady.”
“We were hasty. Gren did not believe we were truly going to face the Umir, and he expected a small group of Zalt. If these Believers are as strong as you suggest, we might be at their mercy,” Lewen finally admitted.
“Can we return to Kabos? Recruit more soldiers?” Veronica asked.
“No. It will do no good. If the network is activated, we are also susceptible to the Zalt.” Lewen’s tanned skin paled slightly.
“Great. So your brains may turn to mush beside ours. One thing at a time?” Tripp cracked his knuckles. “Let’s shut off this hub, then regroup. Find out where Agent Young is. I’ll track down Colonel Jerkins, check out what the military is doing, and how deep the Believers go.”
“And I’ll get this damned Book,” I muttered.
Lewen grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my arm. “What book?”
“Jessica, the cult’s leader, kept referring to some book that she thought I was after. I hadn’t been aware of its existence. Hunter Madison never mentioned it, and my dad didn’t seem to know anything, besides thinking he’d heard a passing reference or two.”
“I wish Saul was around. He would have information for us,” Tripp said.
That brought on a moment of survivor’s guilt in me. I’d made it from the caves that fateful day, with Marcus and our parents intact. Saul had died saving us. I rubbed at my chest where the tattoo sat. PT. Promissa Terra. It was a saying that bonded our group, me included, even if I hadn’t realized its significance at the time.
Her eyes grew distant. “The book. What do you think it does?”
“I think it might give us access to their ship. The Objects,” Gren said from ahead. Clearly, he’d been eavesdropping.
“Wait. We can use this book to get into space?” I asked.
“Not like that. If you follow the instructions, one might be able to reverse the link.” Lewen smiled.
“We can take over a Zalt?” Veronica clapped her palms to her thighs.
“It is not simple to connect. You must be trained—”
“Rex can do it,” Tripp blurted.
The soldiers all looked up, staring at me.
“You can?” Lewen asked.
I cast a glare at Tripp. “I don’t know about that.”
“Sure. He’s already linked to his father once,” Tripp said.
I realized there was more we hadn’t told him. “Tripp, you missed a lot. I linked with Jessica when we were on Rimia. My dad had some of the drink they used at the village. Then I was Hunter. He sent me a message from the past. It was… surreal.”
Tripp stayed stoic, then broke into a grin. “See? I told her you could do it. You have… what’s the word for it? Aptitude.”
“Maybe. Lewen, even if we locate this Book, reverse the link… then what?” My heart rate picked up, and my skin flushed. I was nervous. I didn’t want to be the one to attempt such a feat.
“The Zalt will destroy you. Your cult thinks they will be amiable and work with them, but it’s never been done. The Zalt will enter your minds, and they will rot from the inside out. The Zalt will seep into your ecosystem, devouring it until there is nothing remaining but ruin. Your planet will be destroyed, along with every single living thing on it.” We stayed quiet while Lewen painted the dramatic picture. “You must find a way to destroy the Objects.”
7
The three hours flew by. We didn’t encounter so much as a seagull on our journey, and that scared me more than anything. Flights around the world seemed to be on lockdown, but I expected some form of military presence. We were blind. There was no news to read. No television media coverage on the state of the world. I presumed it wasn’t going well. Already, before the storms, Tripp had said things were growing dire.
Dozens of protests around the globe had turned violent, and thousands of casualties from nearly every country had been claimed. Tripp informed us the US was one of the first to go south. The Freedom Earthers had moved in shortly after we’d departed, going so far as to plant their flag at monuments around the nation.
He told us about the news reports showing the red, white, and blue flags, with Freedom stitched in the center, and a circle of stars around it. They were placed outside the White House, the Liberty Bell, on the Statue of Liberty, and anywhere else you could think of that would garner
worldwide attention.
As far as Tripp was aware, no one dared to take them down. The government was a hodgepodge of disasters. The California governor had vanished. There had been numerous resignations throughout the senate, and police forces had literally disbanded after they were blamed for the results of the widespread panic.
And of course, the President was nowhere in sight. People stormed Washington, but Alan Black had disappeared, only to resurface with a message from an unknown location. Tripp said it was all a bunch of crap, urging people to stay home and to wait out the storm. Black assured everyone the asteroids would skim past Earth and continue on their merry way. That was a week ago.
Some cities had done a good job of ensuring a curfew or stay-at-home orders, suggesting to me that their leaders might be with the cult, trying to keep their cattle safe for the invasion. But there was no proof.
“Did you have any news of Mexico?” I asked Tripp.
“Not much. Borders were closed after a bunch of Americans attempted to flee south.” Tripp closed his eyes.
“Things must be bad,” Veronica mumbled.
I tried to imagine being at home, with the news endlessly scrolling information on the approaching Objects. Everything would be terrifying, with no incoming answers. Would I have tried to calm my students or told them to hunker down? I couldn’t even predict how the normal version of myself would react. Then, all of a sudden, a storm had come. The day we’d returned from Kabos, lightning and meteor showers had overwhelmed the planet. Were the Umir attacking? The one in Thailand had killed those villagers. They might be on a rampage.
“Lewen, how many Umir landed?” I asked.
She checked her clear tablet device. “Sixty-seven,” she answered.
“That’s not a lot,” Tripp said.
“Maybe from the comfort of a spaceship, but on the ground, one is plenty.” I’d already faced three of them.
“With the hub gone, we can sleep easier,” Veronica said.
Lewen made a noise but didn’t speak.
Lost Hope (The Bridge Sequence Book Three) Page 8
