Silent Siren (Climatic Climacteric Book 1)

by L. B. Carter

  The air tank made a loud clunk as it hit the inside of the small metal rowboat Tom had loaned, momentarily pausing the frogs’ symphony in an eerie silence. Nor hoisted himself in next, loaded down with an underwater flashlight, gloves, a small net, and of course a few sharp tools for those always-be-prepared just-in-case moments. He leaned over the rim and shoved off of the sticky shore, propelling the little boat toward the middle of the inlet. Nor rinsed the mud off his hand in the water, confirming its bathtub-lukewarm temperature, while recounting what he knew about the accident in his head. He was not thinking about the feel of clay combined with warm, soft fingers.

  Two missing: Lynn Chavez, from their team and an anonymous researcher, their client. Their team, minus the important Jason, hadn’t found any missing persons reports. Either the researcher was so careful that they had no significant other worrying about where they were, or their family/close colleagues were informed of the prudence of laying low. The researcher had carried no identification and taken with him or her only cash for the bus ticket he or she spontaneously purchased and the specimen Lynn had been enforced to protect.

  Lynn had confirmed pick up at a bus stop in a location undisclosed to anyone except herself, with both using disposable cell phones after the researcher boarded. Then they would have been en route back to headquarters, having trashed their burners. From there their scientists would assess the danger and Father would determine their next security step. Normal protocol.

  Communication wasn’t encouraged beyond formulating their en-route overnight host, which again they arranged confidentially. Father had only been made aware that Lynn had pinpointed the closest members of their net as Barb and Tom when the couple contacted him after the arrival window was missed. This was one way they ensured their clients’ safety.

  Lynn wasn’t the best. Hell they hadn’t really had anyone to spare at that time. Nor and Reed had been as indisposed, as had Father. Nor’s damp fingers slipped a bit on the smooth wood of the oar. He managed to row a bit further into the middle of the river, aiming for maximum depth. There weren’t many others left, not fully trained. Father was amending that weakness to restock their security as fast as he could while his sons were gone. Likely, Father had been distracted enough to not vet the contract succinctly enough before Lynn was sent out in the first place. The client may have not followed their rules and, subsequently, trusted the wrong person.

  The boat bobbed in the gentle current, the sun just beginning to rise and dissipate the slight fog hovering over the water. But Nor’s queasiness didn’t arise from the rolling motion.

  Before he could dwell on it, the calm of the landscape was ruined when Reed yelled, from the bridge. “Dropping in!”

  Nor looked up in time to see his brother fall backwards from the bridge and smack into the water with a loud splash. It was only a drop of about ten feet or so. The impact had to hurt nonetheless. Idiot.

  The frogs went silent again, anticipating a predator, and, without Reed surfacing, everything stilled. Nor felt exposed. He scanned the tall grasses, the forest on one side of the inlet, the gravel slope, on which they’d parked the borrowed car and boat trailer, on the other side, and the empty bridge. No one else seemed to be out and about this early in the morning. The bridge was also fairly distant from any dwellings and out of the way of traffic heading to the center of town. However, a sniper could easily take him out in his position.

  With no real cover, Nor hunkered down a bit to don his gloves and flippers. Then he shrugged into the tank, pulled the goggles down from his head, popped the mouthpiece in and followed suit, dropping backwards into the water.

  Everything went green thanks to the floating algae particles, as though his goggles were designed for night vision. Nor allowed himself to sink deeper, bubbles cascading around his vision as he exhaled. A fish darted past, making him cross-eyed as he followed the little silver and green guy close to his nose. It veered into the distance, fading into the gloom, before he could identify it. His feet pedaled in a lazy bicycle motion as he unlatched the large flashlight from his suit and turned it on. It cut a wide beam of light, making small bugs and dust flash like sparkles as they drifted.

  He flipped and kicked toward the bottom. The floor finally came into view, and the light scanned over the surface. Glimpses of a bright rock with a few dots of green life clinging to its craggy sides popped out between swaying grasses, some short like a lawn, some tall like a field. The rest was more of the brown muck, and—

  Nor started then flipped up a middle finger as Reed’s alien mask materialized from his right. He looked like some comic book villain or sci-fi, dystopian government enforcer.

  Reed signaled in front of the light, like making shadow puppets, indicating to Nor his time limit and direction: one hour, upstream. Reed would head downstream to the mouth. Simultaneously, the brothers both turned back to the riverbed and began to make passes from one bank to the other. Reed’s light began to fade from Nor’s periphery after a few turns. Nor kept his focus on the few feet below and in front of him, occasionally obscured by a cloud of bubbles with each breath. It would help if he knew what he was looking for exactly. They assumed the specimen would be contained in a vial or petri dish, maybe even a plastic baggy within a cooler. Mother always sealed up her samples when not staring at them under a microscope. She’d scolded Nor on the first day he begged her to let him assist for transporting a clod of dirt without wearing gloves or putting a lid on the tupperware it was contained in.

  Something caught his eye as man-made when the inlet began to narrow. Gently uncovering it with gentle digging and waving his hand to spur a little current across the surface moving the detritus and making the water murky. When it cleared, he was disappointed to unveil an old beer can. It could’ve been tossed overboard by a fisherman, or perhaps it had drifted there from some upstream secret teenage drinking spot in one of the storms. Litterers annoyed the hell out of Nor. If they could carry the thing there, they were capable of the effort to take it back, especially when it was light and empty after drinking. The trash in the net bounced gently against Nor’s hip as he swam.

  The lack of results was expected. It was unlikely anything from the crash had made its way upstream, against the current. Just in case, Nor doubled back, crossing his path. A piece of fabric was tucked against the side of another boulder, caught on a settled branch. The edges were ripped and frayed, small dangling threads dancing in the flow. The color was impossible to tell underwater. Nor pulled it out too, adding it to his net to inspect later.

  After an hour, Nor clicked off his light, reattached it to his other hip and headed upward. He broke through, the now-risen sun hitting his face and making him squint. He reached up to pull out his mouthpiece and lift off the mask. He sighed at the relief of pressure where the edges had dug into his skin, replacing the stale air with a cool, fresh breeze just starting to carry an autumnal scent. One glove clutching his goggles, Nor kicked for the boat bobbing a few feet away. It had slipped under the bridge, catching on one of the pillars and bumping repeatedly against the concrete. Hopefully it hadn’t scratched. He didn’t spy Reed yet. His brother was punctual, so he was sure to appear soon.

  Nor heaved, muscles straining, and ungracefully rolled over the metal rim onto the floor of the boat. Pinned down by the weight of the oxygen tank, he pulled off the straps before attempting to sit up. He shook a lock of wet hair from his eye and swept the surface. Still quiet. Where was Reed?

  While waiting, Nor set the soggy net on his lap. Keeping his gloves on to inspect the cloth in a futile effort to avoid contaminating it more than it already was, he untangled it and held it up in the Sun’s rays. It was about the size of his head, jagged on one side, cut smoothly and folded along a seam on the other. It was textured, unlike cotton, and brown with dirt. Clothing perhaps. It could’ve been white originally. Either way, it wasn’t what they searched for.

  “Whatcha got there?”

  Nor jumped again, dropping his treasure wit
h a wet splat into the hull. He scowled at Reed, who grinned and draped crossed arms on the edge of the boat, dropping the mask dangling from his fingertips to join Nor’s tank.

  Nor shrugged. “Maybe a piece of clothing. I didn’t find anything else of note. You?”

  Reed’s smile dropped, though the red marks on his face made him look like a weird racoon and hard to take seriously. “A chunk of car. Nothing else. If we’re lucky, the cops bagged it and we just need to do some more pressing. If we’re screwed, it got washed far out into the ocean. You were right; the river opens into a little cove. There was a strong riptide there from the waves hitting the rocks. It was tough swimming getting back and I didn’t even go out far. I think as a final check we need to come at it from the other side.”

  “We’ll need a different boat for that.”

  “One no one will miss if we dash it against the rocks though,” Reed said. “You clearly don’t know how to park them.” He heaved out a breath and then hoisted himself over the side a lot less floppily than his little brother had. The boat teetered like a drunk, clunking against the bridge’s brace. He sat across from Nor and slapped his large, rubbery, webbed flippers onto Nor’s knees. “Row me home, Patsy,” he declared.

  “You just said I suck at maneuvering the boat.”

  “Well then, there is something to be gained from joining the sailing team, isn’t there?”

  “You’re the one sitting in the bow and facing the right direction,” Nor pointed out, smugly.

  Reed made a face. His feet slid off and slapped to the floor, then his tank clunked to the floor too. Reed began to row, humming a nursery song under his breath.

  “I rowed it out here. Equal effort,” Nor added.

  “Don’t think this counts as exercise, my young naive trainee.” Damn. The thought had crossed Nor’s mind. “And before you try anything, swimming doesn’t count either. Not with these bad boys making it way too easy.” He wiggled his toes in the flippers. “You should have weights on your ankles before I would count it towards your daily cardio.” This was why Nor had been following in Mother’s footsteps. Asshole.

  They hit the bank with a soft thunk and Nor was quick to remove his flippers and grab his shoes from the small rock he’d left them on. He hopped out and crossed the noisy gravel to open the car door. He turned back to get an armload of gear. Reed hadn’t moved.

  “I need my shoes,” he explained.

  Double asshole. Nor ground his teeth but twisted and marched up the path to the road. He looked both ways, even though he knew no cars would be passing. It was still early, especially for a Saturday and double especially on a long weekend. The high schoolers at least would be still sleeping off their hangovers in town. He located Reed’s sneakers by the newly replaced railing and headed back toward where the road, turnoff and forest all met. The loud rev of an approaching car disrupted nature’s sounds, turning Nor’s head.

  A dark sedan was headed for the bridge, going way too fast for the narrow road. The bridge had no real shoulder. Nor shifted closer to the railing. The car didn’t slow. At the last second, when it didn’t look like it was going to swerve around him, Nor broke into a sprint and dove over the railing. He rolled with the landing though the mud made for a fairly cushy fall. Momentum kept him tumbling down the incline. His head knocked on a few hard rocks. Finally leveling out, the ground became his bed, as he dropped flat, pausing to let his brain stop spinning.

  “Shit!” Reed ran over, his feet squelching. He’d evidently overlooked the lack of shoes. “Are you all right?” He squatted next to Nor.

  The sky stopped spinning. Nor lifted his head, grateful when it didn’t ache, grumpy when it came up with the extra weight of mud caking his hair. He made eye contact so Reed could check for concussion. Reed shook his head and offered a hand. Instead, Nor handed over the shoes he’d protected close to his core. They were a bit muddy. Reed shook his head in incredulity and took them in one hand, using the other to pull Nor up with him as he stood.

  They both turned to look up the bank, though the car was long gone.

  “That car almost clipped you. Would’ve nailed you if you hadn’t moved. Jesus,” Reed marveled.

  Nor shook his head. “Probably didn't expect any pedestrians on that bridge at this hour.”

  “Or they’re podunk idiots who need to learn to drive,” Reed said with disgust.

  Nor had to admit it did look like the many cars in the high school lot. Maybe the driver had been hungover or worse: still drunk.

  Reed looked down at his bare feet, which had sunk a bit, then with remorse at the shoes in his hand. “So much for these.” He gave Nor a once over, some amusement pushing away the anger. “Although muddy feet seem to be the least of our problems.”

  “I’ll wash off what I can. Tom won’t kill us if we get mud on his seats.”

  “But Barb might,” Reed agreed.

  Reed backed the trailer up and hooked up the little rowboat while Nor took off his own shoes and traipsed down to rinse in knee-deep water as best as he could. His irritation with that driver sunk to match Reed’s with every bare-footed, muddy step he took toward the car. Even if they hadn’t seen him, reckless driving on such a narrow lane was dangerous. This bridge had a history. Unless it hadn’t been an accident, given that history. Nor shook his head. No one knew they were going to be there, let alone on the bridge at that particular moment, besides Barb and Tom. They could be trusted. The disaster of the last mission was making him paranoid.

  They grabbed some old towels in the back and put one on the passenger seat for Nor. The one Sirena had used to towel off only a day prior. The other they used to brush the clumps off their feet. They’d have to rinse down the foot mats when they got back, unless they wanted Barb’s wrath. That was a scarier encounter than facing down any speeding car. After he took a shower.

  After all, Nor had his first high school party to attend that evening.

  ◆◆◆

  The event was in full swing by the time Nor dropped out of the passenger side of the truck. Someone’s car was thumping bass loudly from the edge of the parking lot that abutted the wooden paths to the beach. The cacophony of boisterous male and chittering female voices drowned out all of the song’s vocals, from behind the shrub-dotted dunes, if it even had any.

  Reed came around the truck, shoving the keys into Nor’s hand as he passed, and then giving a faint punch to his arm. “You’re DD. Don’t let me see you with a drink in your hand.”

  Nor tried not to grimace. The punch had hit a sore spot from his tumble that morning. He shoved the keys in his jean pocket and gave his shoulder a secretive rub as Reed ambled ahead of him past the cars already clogging the sandy lot. He already knew Reed wouldn’t let him drink.

  “You coming, Mat?” Reed tossed over his shoulder.

  Nor jogged after his brother. Reed ducked under his swing, anticipating the retaliation for the nickname referencing the amount of time Nor spent on his back the training room mat at home. Reed was a good trainer, but ruthless and brutal with the smackdowns.

  Reed chuckled. “We’ll work on your stealth tomorrow.”

  “Ass,” Nor muttered, but kept pace with his brother. Nor knew he had a lot to live up to.

  They tromped down the path bisecting two dune mounds, stepping carefully to avoid slipping between the old wooden slats. The smell of bonfire came first, then the beacon of light spilling into the night sky, embers flicking up like fireworks before getting caught in the ocean breeze and drifting sideways. The fire’s glow didn’t spread far across the beach due to the undulating mass of silhouetted bodies huddled around its warmth. It wasn’t particularly chilly out, but, as anticipated, a girl stumbled past them in a tiny bikini, heading toward the vegetation, which was probably the closest makeshift bathroom. Reed watched her breasts pass with interest. Nor cleared his throat.

  Reed led the way toward the crowd, estimating at least fifty people amassed in this central location and several groups sat around cool
ers dotted across the sand. A few more brave bodies were hesitantly toeing the water’s edge in the distance. The tide was out, and the water was clearly cold, because the figures stepped hesitantly in only to turn and run back to their less-daring audience.

  The music from the car was coming from another gap in the dunes on the other side of the fire. It had shifted to a slower throb, and, as they got closer, Nor could distinguish individual couples grinding together in varying degrees of being clothed. Girls in bikinis, guys in hoodies. It all depended on how keen they were on showing off some skin or how much they’d already consumed from the red cups and beer bottles adorning most hands. The sign they’d passed in the parking lot prohibited glass. Where was the local PD?

  “Hey, man! You came!” Justin bounded over, his girl stumbling barefoot through the sand behind him in a red one-piece though most of the suit was missing, huge cut-outs showing the curve of her waist. Justin was in board shorts and a t-shirt. He still wore his yacht shoes, making the term seem unfitting, like trying on a cooler older sibling’s leather jacket. Not that Nor knew about that.

  He lofted his red cup at Reed. “Glad you could make it, too, bro. Lemme introduce you to some of the alum. Nor, the team’s mostly over at Ben’s cooler.” He nodded to a spot just sea-ward of the fire, where a few guys and girls were huddled, laughing.

  Reed gave his brother a stern look of warning before turning to follow Justin and his clearly inebriated girl around the flames to where several tall guys were bunting a volleyball back and forth.

  Nor detoured around people he didn’t yet recognize from only one day at school, heading where Justin had suggested. The loudest laughter, he recognized. Surfer perched cross-legged on the cooler, entertaining the small group of guys and girls with some tale. Nor came up behind him, hoping not to interrupt.