Harley Merlin 11: Finch Merlin and the Lost Map

by Forrest, Bella

  Bryce shrugged. “I sure hope so. Definitely wouldn’t do us any good if they started breeding stronger.”

  He glanced around at us darkly, and I knew what he was implying. The Bureau was stretched to the max for personnel as it was.

  There’d been an increased number of redbill sightings over the past year, around North America particularly, for reasons that were still unclear to the Bureau. It was as if the birds had spiraled into a breeding frenzy. Recruitment agents, my mom among them, were working overtime to keep up with the demand for new officers, and younger, less trained recruits were starting to be allowed into ground missions as a result. Which explained our motley crew.

  Some state and city departments simply didn’t have enough people. Our branch here in Chicago, for example, sometimes had to send out squads as far as Oklahoma to help deal with threats. It was lucky that tonight’s sighting had been local… well, not so lucky for the revelers of Navy Pier Park.

  A secondary, albeit unrelated, factor didn’t help the Bureau’s staff problems. The demand for soldiers, and law enforcement workers in general, had grown slowly but steadily over the past half-decade or so, thanks to a slight but continuous rise in the regular human crime rate. It meant there was a smaller pool of officers the Bureau could recruit to their specialized force, since more soldiers were out dealing with ordinary human problems.

  I just hoped things would smooth out sooner or later, for all of our sakes.

  “Anyway,” Bryce said, casting another strong look around the room. “Don’t any of you take this as an excuse to start whining. Even a bird thrice the size of that one is nothing like the bloodsuckers we used to hunt.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” Roxy mumbled from behind. Too loud.

  Bryce spun on her again. “And what was that, my wee lass? Care to speak a bit louder, so we can all hear your precious thoughts?”

  Roxy gave a soft sigh. “I find that hard to believe,” she replied sullenly. “There’s no way vampires were as strong or dangerous as these freaking monsters.”

  Bryce’s lips formed a hard line. “Mm-hmm. And what, precisely, makes you say that?”

  I turned over my shoulder to glance at Roxy’s half-flustered, half-incredulous expression. She didn’t know how wrong she was.

  “I mean, how could they even compare?” she started. “Vampires didn’t fly, for one thing, so it couldn’t have been half as difficult to catch them. They had small fangs, compared to huge, snapping beaks. They kept way more to themselves, too, from what I’ve heard, and weren’t a big threat to public places. Plus—”

  “And what about their brains?” Bryce interrupted.

  Roxy stuttered. “Their… brains?”

  “Their brains,” Bryce repeated, his eyes widening.

  Roxy’s brow furrowed. “Well, yeah. Vampires were smarter. But still—”

  “Exactly.” Bryce took a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Vampires were cunning devils. They could outsmart a human in almost any situation, and usually the only way to match one was to put many human minds together. Bills are just dumb brutes, and any comparison is frankly offensive.”

  He gave an almost wistful sigh and sank back into his chair, facing us. His eyes grew distant.

  “Honestly, if vampires hadn’t been such a menace, I would’ve been sad to see them go. Watchin’ them was like… pure poetry in motion… put any martial artist to shame. They could distract you by just the sheer skill and speed of their movement, and the way they used your own strength against you, you’d barely realize you were bleeding until it was too late.”

  He tugged at his collar and pulled it down to reveal the beginning of a massive scar on his upper chest.

  “Aye.” He grinned, watching our stunned faces. “This was done with my own weapon. But I’m not going to lie. As risky as the job was, it was more of a thrill hunting a vampire. You never knew what could happen. Would they lure you into a trap? Attack the moment they saw you, or wait a while, and lull you into a false sense of security? Or maybe they’d do neither and instead slip away into the night, let you try to trail ‘em some more until you tired out… But they were worth the chase. And when you finally caught one? Oof. The thrill was indescribable.”

  He finished with a crooked smile, and the whole room stared in rapt silence; even Roxy’s brow had softened.

  I’d heard plenty of tales of vampire chases before, but I’d never seen this side of Bryce. He spoke with such awe of the creatures that had snuffed out so many innocent lives, it was almost hard not to wish I’d seen one, too… even if they were the reason my uncle needed a permanent walking aid.

  After all, Zach and I had grown up expecting to track the predators, just like our parents had done in their early careers. But by the time I turned sixteen, vampires had disappeared.

  “It is weird how they died out so quickly,” Zach mumbled, as if he’d followed the same line of thought.

  Bryce leaned back in his seat, nodding slowly. “Aye. It was unexpected for a lot of us. Guess there couldn’t have been as many as we thought there were to begin with, and once all countries started cooperating, we managed to drive them to extinction. Amazing how destructive we humans can be when we put our minds to it.” He chuckled, though it sounded halfhearted.

  “Where do you think they came from, Captain?” I asked. The origin of vampires was more of a mystery than their disappearance, and everyone and their mother had an opinion about it. I’d never heard Bryce’s before, and I was genuinely curious.

  The captain puffed out his cheeks. “I’m not sure what you’re expecting to hear from me, when an entire research department couldn’t come up with anything better than ‘they just existed’. The honest answer is I don’t know. But if you held me at gunpoint, I’d probably say the same—they just always existed. A so-called ‘supernatural’ creature living among us, perhaps since the dawn of time, for one reason or another. Who knew? Bram Stoker was on to somethin’.”

  I nodded, having basically come to the same conclusion. Some folks liked to swerve toward fictional vampire lore and present theories about vampires’ ancestors having once been humans who went on to—somehow—develop unnatural abilities. But the science simply didn’t back that up. Vampires had been caught, dissected, and studied in labs, and there was no proof that they were ever part of our gene pool, or that they could spread their condition to others. They actually showed no genetic commonalities with any earthly creature. Which led to others suggesting they could be a species from another planet. I wasn’t even going to get into that.

  “And what do you think about the redbills’ origin?” Grayson muttered. “Given there’s no record of their existence anywhere up until half a decade ago.”

  We all turned to glance at the blond man. It was the first time either he or Louise had spoken since Bryce’s… exposé on Grayson’s feelings—a fact that the captain’s sardonic smile not-so-subtly acknowledged.

  “Aye,” Bryce replied. “We all thought vampires were an anomaly, the only species of their kind out there, until the redbills came along… right around the time vampires stopped showing up. I’m not going to try to speculate about that one. All I know is they’re somehow made of the same stuff as vampires. Not natural.”

  “Do you believe in reincarnation, sir?” Zach asked.

  My brother’s smile clearly indicated that it was a joke, but Bryce’s expression looked oddly strained.

  “Not sure about that, lad. But karma, maybe? I mean, it is odd, isn’t it, that we get rid of vampires, only to be saddled with this other huge, heaving problem.” He cast Roxy a look. “Not that it’s necessarily of the same caliber. But it’s a problem nonetheless. And it appears to be getting worse.”

  He finished on a quiet note that seemed to infect the room. My brother and I exchanged glances, and the tension in Zach’s jaw reflected what I felt in my gut. Hopefully not too much worse. Or at least, not too quickly. We struggled to keep pace as it was.

 
Unlike vampires, redbills could not be concealed from the public. Vampires had been discreet, and they had always attacked in seclusion—one on one. They rarely left witnesses. That had been the government’s major advantage in preventing the mass fear and panic among citizens which would surely have followed a declaration that vampires walked among us.

  With the redbills, the authorities had been able to get away with explaining them as an abnormal breed of stork, a strange fluke of nature—possibly even the result of past nuclear plant accidents—and that research was ongoing to determine their origin and the best way to subdue them. But if they bred too much and attracted too much attention, that explanation would become harder and harder to swallow. Our saving grace was that they hadn’t spread to other countries yet—or at least, there’d been no reports.

  We needed to keep it that way.

  “Landing in five.” The pilot’s announcement broke through the quiet.

  I shifted in my seat, wanting a distraction, and glanced out the nearest window as the aircraft tilted. I watched the thousands of lights of downtown Chicago rise to meet us. The evening felt so clear and calm, so comfortingly normal, that if it weren’t for my still-damp hair and sore thigh, it would be hard to believe we’d just been battling monsters.

  This was what we were fighting for, I reminded myself. A world where we could all sleep peacefully at night, where families could vacation without fear, where couples could enjoy their late-night dates and children could play out on the streets. The world as it should be.

  I was among the first to unbuckle when the aircraft touched down on the roof of our base. I stood up slowly, testing out my right leg, and winced slightly. It hurt more than when I’d sat down, probably due to swelling where the beak had caught my suit. I was going to have one ugly bruise. But it could have been a lot worse. Like, no-leg-at-all worse.

  “You okay?” Gina asked from beside me, obviously noticing my grimace.

  I nodded. “Yeah. I can still walk and run. I just need some rest.”

  I moved toward the door, wanting to get ahead of the crowd. I was definitely looking forward to resting. It wasn’t that late, but my little swim had taken more out of me than I’d realized.

  The door drew open, letting in a chilly waft of air, and I was on the verge of leaving when Bryce called, “Hold up, folks.”

  We all turned to see him staring down at his comm screen.

  “We’ve just had another summons,” he announced.

  My breath caught. “Another one?” Our team had never had two calls in a single day.

  “In Chicago?” Sarah asked incredulously.

  “Nope. Washington, D.C. They’re short-staffed because New York State borrowed from them. They’re requesting any recruits available.” Bryce glanced up at us. “Satellites flagged an unnatural frequency at a closed church, and the D.C. chief needs a team to investigate. Suspicion is there’s a bird trying to nest there, because it hasn’t posed a threat yet.”

  “And we have to leave now?” Roxy asked.

  “First thing in the morning,” Bryce replied. “They’re keeping an eye on the building for the moment, but I need you all here by four a.m. sharp. Go to bed as soon as you get home, and you’ll be bright and fine.” His face twitched in a dry smile.

  I glanced at my watch—21:45—before Zach grabbed my arm and pulled me down the stairs after him.

  “No rest for the wicked, eh?” Gina murmured from behind us as she followed.

  No… No, I guess not.

  Darklight Chapter 2

  Captain Bryce gave us his usual cold “goodbye” grunt as my teammates and I hopped from the chopper to the air pad. He stayed behind to discuss the next morning’s strategy with the pilots.

  We entered the Bureau through sliding steel doors and were greeted by familiar obsidian-black walls. The tired shuffling of our boots echoed from the vaulted ceilings. After a night like this, the main hallway always seemed never-ending.

  Everyone stayed silent until we reached the elevators. Roxy hit the down button.

  “Have a good night,” I called in her direction.

  “Yeah, sweet friggin’ dreams,” she muttered. The rest of the crew shook their heads, trying to laugh through their sighs.

  As they filed into the elevator, my brother, Gina, and I split from the group, heading toward the giant metal door that always reminded me that my bed was close.

  Zach pulled his ID from his suit’s breast pocket and pressed it against a dark gray pad on the wall. Three low beeps rang out, and a clunk sounded through the hall as the door unlocked. I reached to pull down the handle, but Zach slapped my hand.

  “Take it easy, gimp.” He grinned.

  I rolled my eyes while he pulled the massive door open, and we started down a much smaller hallway into the residential staff apartments. I wonder if Mom and Dad are still awake.

  The narrow white walls of the base’s family housing were lined with sporadically placed numbered doorways. Zach and Gina pulled ahead of me. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, my pace was a little slower than usual.

  Gina glanced back over her shoulder. “Want an arm?”

  “I’m good,” I assured her.

  We finally reached 237. Zach once again pulled out his ID, pressed it to the pad, and opened the door to our family’s apartment. I faintly smelled casserole. Zach made a beeline for the kitchen and started making himself a plate.

  “I’ll have a bite and then head to my apartment, if there’s enough,” Gina said, unlacing her boots beside me in the entryway.

  “Mom always makes a full tray. Lyra, you want a plate?” Zach called.

  “Not really hungry,” I said, carefully bending over to untie my own boots.

  Gina eyed me. “You need to lie down.”

  I nodded to acknowledge her concern but said nothing—I didn’t want her going into mothering mode.

  She half-smiled. “You and your brother. So damn stubborn. I’ll see you at the ass-crack of dawn, Lyra,” she said, accepting the plate of casserole Zach handed her.

  I waved over my shoulder as I headed toward my bedroom, assuming my parents were asleep.

  I was aware that most twenty-one-year-olds in America didn’t live with their parents, but most people in America didn’t grow up as second-generation OB agents. Bureau base housing was limited, so until Zach and I had families of our own, we shared quarters with our parents. Honestly, we were all so busy that we didn’t see much of each other on a daily basis.

  Halfway down the hall, I noticed a light shining under the closed living room door—and heard voices.

  The sound of my mother’s sharp tone halted my breath and footsteps. She rarely spoke above a gentle hum, albeit a hum that commanded respect. When I could hear her through a closed door, something was wrong.

  I couldn’t make out her words, so I inched closer. I heard my father’s voice interject, lower and slower than my mother’s, but just as severe. I held my breath, now able to make out the words.

  “I don’t understand how the Board hasn’t taken action on this yet,” my mom snapped. “It’s unacceptable. This is not how the Bureau is supposed to conduct itself.”

  My heart jumped at another familiar voice, calm and thick as caramel. Uncle Alan. “Don’t be so quick to judge, Miriam. We’re dealing with something we don’t understand yet.”

  It was hard to hear what they were saying over Zach and Gina chatting in the kitchen. Quiet. Quiet! I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on the living room door—after all, it wasn’t like I could shush my brother and his girlfriend so I could snoop better.

  Uncle Alan dropped his voice, and Zach’s fork scraping his plate from the kitchen drowned out my uncle’s words. Several moments passed, but I remained frozen.

  My mother gasped. “Unbelievable.” My heart pounded so loudly in my ears that her higher timbre was the only thing I could distinguish.

  Uncle Alan raised his voice an octave in response to my mother’s concern but then cleared his thr
oat and returned to his hushed tone. “These are the facts we have. Like I’ve explained, even these vague details are strictly secret.”

  My mother didn’t like her brother’s response, apparently, because her voice peaked again, cracking this time. “People’s lives are at stake! How could the Bureau keep something so dangerous a secret?! You and your damned red tape—papers and signatures aren’t more important than human lives!”

  This time my father joined in. “How many more soldiers need to throw themselves at these monsters before we get this under control? These are our children—your niece and nephew, Alan.”

  “Miriam, Russell,” Uncle Alan replied calmly. “We all know why the Bureau has to do this. Something like this getting out could be catastrophic. I understand your concern. But letting this information reach anyone else’s ears is out of the question. There’s a reason it took me so long to tell you. And that only happened because of your promotion last month, Russell.”

  I bit my lip, and my eyes widened. My father was the new Head of Defense Technology.

  “You are the only ones not on the Board who know anything about this at all,” my uncle offered.

  A heavy silence fell in the room. I started to feel lightheaded from holding my breath.

  Uncle Alan continued, his usual sweetness now turned slightly rigid. “Stability and calm are the most important things for the Bureau, this country—and the globe—right now.”

  Guilt knotted my stomach. I was beginning to get uncomfortable about eavesdropping for so long.

  I cleared my throat and knocked softly on the living room door. My mother’s voice became a hurried whisper, and my father called out, “Yes, we’re in here.”

  I pushed the door open to reveal three weak attempts at smiles.

  “Hi, everyone,” I said cautiously.

  My uncle sat in the armchair to my left, across the coffee table from my parents. His platinum hair was slicked back in its usual fashion, his trim gray suit predictably impeccable, even at this late hour. He whisked two papers from the coffee table and into the depths of his shiny leather briefcase, but not before I recognized the emblem in the header—Bureau non-disclosure paperwork.