Apollo Project

by Brittany E Brinegar

  “I’m coming with you,” Barb said reaching for a saddle.

  “We’re keeping the search party small,” Reagan said. “Scotty and I can move faster on our own.”

  “I had dealings with Nate too,” Barb said. “I spent time with him when he saved Gus. Perhaps I can get through to him.”

  Granddad and Kelly descended from the loft. “Tucker and I were discussing possible ambush scenarios. We could…”

  Reagan swiped her arms across the air and tightened her lips. “Enough. We aren’t going. I don’t want to put all of you at risk. Nate Campbell killed Junior right in front of me and I’m not underestimating him this time. We only have two guns. Only two people are going.”

  “I can’t believe you’re leaving me out again.” Kelly’s eyes cast downward to her feet. “Just when I finally earned a promotion to the A-team, the rug is yanked out from under me.”

  “This isn’t about being included on the trek, Kate.” Reagan calmed her breathing. “If something happens, you three are here to protect and lead the group. Contact my dad and fill him in on the beacon and what we learned from Scarlett.” Reagan addressed Kelly and Granddad. “When Jasper wakes up, he’ll go for the horses and try to follow. Don’t let him.”

  “Fine.” Kelly sighed and returned to the house.

  “Be careful,” Granddad said stroking Reagan’s arm. “I’ll secure the loft. If anyone comes, I got two shells in the shotgun.”

  Barb, the last challenger, held a saddle. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Barb, you can’t.”

  “Please don’t invent some job to keep me here.”

  “I’m not concocting a made-up position to patronize you. You’re our Caribou Crew whisperer. Before you joined the group, they did nothing but complain.”

  “They still complain.”

  “You weren’t here when Jasper whined incessantly about locating their RV,” Reagan said. “And Meredith with his smokes. Dawn and the germs. And Olivia with everything in between.”

  Barb crossed her arms. “I have a plan to catch Nate. Can you say the same?”

  Reagan gazed out the window, as the sun peaked over the horizon. “We don’t have time to argue. Saddle up.”

  Chapter 24 – Flapjacks & Theories

  Tom

  As he grilled breakfast on the fireplace in the toasty room, Emerson tested another half-baked conspiracy theory. With everyone hungry and waiting for the hot meal, the old crank guaranteed their attention. “No doubt in my mind we’re Guinea pigs for sure. I know I keep saying it, but we’re trapped in one experiment after another. The fire in my neighborhood was real. This one here in Montana doesn’t ring true. The army has psychedelic drugs to work on people. Like LSD. This is an experiment to test the ability to drop it on a population. I can give examples of what are hallucinations because some of you are skeptical.”

  While Bull listed items and flipped flapjacks, Tom tuned him out and observed the group, proud they worked together.

  Hunter shoved into a chair next to Tom. “About half of what he says is nuts, but with all we’ve seen, I believe some of it. How do we explain the fire?”

  Bull lost another pupil as Robin peeled off after snatching a sausage patty. Hunter gave her the eye and she returned the glance.

  The old man ignored the preliminary flirtation. “We need a good plan going forward, Yank. What are you thinking?”

  “We’ve got a good crew here. You three proved your worth for sure. We can outgun the Merry Men. I’m not sure what to make of the birds, the tornadoes, and the fire. This group can’t be beaten. We’ll fight. We’ll survive.”

  Emerson fired another round of how it was all connected to a fake moon landing and the Kennedy assignation or Vietnam.

  Genevieve eased away from the riveting conversation. “Not to interrupt all of you, but have y’all discussed what we’re going to do since we lost the beacon?”

  “Did you get London Fog to tell you anything?” Tom asked.

  Genevieve picked at a manicured nail. “I’m trying to get him to make sense. William’s constant bullying is making it harder. I’m not understanding how this works. Does this beacon let us travel anywhere?”

  “A decent question. Work on Doc to get some reasonable answers. If you can unlock him, it would go a long way. Barb was making progress.”

  The mention of Barb was a slap to Genevieve’s face. An edgy laugh escaped through the hand pressed to her mouth. “Hibbert always had a ginormous crush on me. I can make him do anything.”

  “Well then, make him get a clue and help us,” Robin said.

  “I will.” Genevieve twirled, bumping into Travis Wayne. “Watch where you’re going. Keep your hands to yourself.

  “I’m sorry Mrs. Davidson.” Travis Wayne unloaded various radio parts onto the table.

  “Hey, buddy, why did you wreck our radio?” Hunter poked at the empty plastic shell.

  “The antenna is on the inside, like with smartphones. It bothered me why these circuits work. I peeked at the wiring. There’s a long wave-medium wave switch. At the radio tower, I can boost the signal.”

  “Alright, it’s settled. If we can boost the signal, I feel good about our chances to reach Reagan and Barb,” Tom said.

  “And Scotty,” Hunter said.

  “Kelly too,” Travis Wayne mumbled.

  “I guess the reunion of me and Jon wouldn’t be quite as sweet.” Robin dropped her hand to the rifle near her feet.

  “Hey, Yank, if all of you are through gabbing, breakfast is ready.”

  “Thanks, Bull.” Tom clapped him on the shoulder. “Sorry I stole a few of your students but we outlined a plan for moving forward.” While eating breakfast, Tom detailed the next leg of the mission. “I’ll lead a group to the radio tower. It’s outside of town.”

  Davidson hitched his belt, one foot on a chair. “I’m going this time. You’re not cutting me out of the pocket.”

  “What’s that even mean?” Dixie asked. “I wanna go too. I’m tired of sitting here babysitting Gus and waiting for him and Hibbert to turn into walkers.”

  “You aren’t going,” Davidson growled. “I don’t want to hear one, single, solitary word of backtalk from you on this topic.”

  “What are you gonna do, ground me? Because I’d really hate to surrender my cellphone, TV, the internet, and oh, my car. I don’t know what I’d do in this world without those things.” Dixie shrugged as Davidson burned. “It wasn’t one, single, solitary word of backtalk, Dad, it was a bunch of words.”

  Davidson’s blotchy red face smoldered. “Eat your pancakes.”

  Letting the family argument boil, Tom slipped beyond range and caught Hunter filling a backpack. “Listen here Big Game, the brunt of the electrical charge got you. I fully recovered, but you’re not a hundred percent. You stay.”

  “Is Robin going? She has a bum knee.” Hunter darted his eyes at his crush. “I say you, me, Robin and Travis Wayne go.”

  “Leaving no gunfighters here. Travis Wayne is the radio repairman and Robin is handy in case we encounter T.C. or some of the less friendly variety of Merry Men. Leaving you to stay and manage the situation.”

  Hunter relented and stopped packing. “If you talk to them, make sure my brother’s okay. I’ll do the whole resting thing and make sure I’m ready for what’s next.”

  Emerson waved a spatula at the side of the room packing. “Just remember the Feds listen in on all radio conversations. They have recording devices filling enormous rooms. They have a fleet of worker bees monitoring and tracking every word you say. I heard about a project to compile voice recording. They say you only need a minimum of two hours speaking to capture every sound in the English language. From there the Feds could cobble together any convenient explanation for what they did to us here.”

  Dixie leaned her elbow on Emerson, a head taller than him. “Yeah, I’m sure this billion-dollar project dabbling in wormholes was created for the sole purpose of getting us to talk on a radio and
record our voices to later explain why we were taken.”

  Even with the tension, the group burst into laughter. Emerson joined in with a belly laugh. “You sure do remind me of my daughter. She always tried to put me in my place. Often told me to shut my trap about my knowledge of how things work in this world.”

  “But are we really in our world anymore?” Hibbert hunched at the table with a pancake on the end of his fork resembling a drooping umbrella. He studied outside the window. “I fixate on one aspect. Whoever developed this nightmare is going to be a very, very wealthy man.”

  Chapter 25 – In the Room

  Reagan

  “I don’t like this plan,” Reagan whispered on the two-lane streets of Paxton, Texas.

  “It’s our only chance,” Barb said.

  “Why can’t I be the bait?” Scotty thumped his chest.

  “Because neither of you has any reason to trust him. Nate Campbell didn’t hurt my group,” Barb said. “He doesn’t know I know about his violent tendencies.”

  Scotty’s eyes searched the street. “What if he shoots first?”

  “I need to stall long enough for y’all to surround him. This will work,” Barb said.

  An hour later, Reagan shifted positions as she glared through the dusty window. Her post was a dank, one-room law office. The room trapped the balmy air like a sauna. Barb stood across the street under an awning of the Texas State Bank. According to the beacon, the wormhole hid inside the bank.

  Scotty holed up in a building on the opposite side of the street, a barbershop with a red, white and blue pole in the front. The second Nate Campbell arrived, the three would spring into action. Reagan’s eyes grew heavy as the hour ticked by. She blinked several times, begging the dry contacts to focus. If she lost those pesky lenses, she’d be useless in their sting. Reagan sipped a bottle of water and opened a package of Goldfish crackers found in the lawyer’s desk. Stakeouts weren’t nearly as exciting in real life. She dropped the crackers and her fatigue faded when Nate Campbell’s husky frame scurried through town. His head swiveled like a fugitive running from the law. Reagan gripped her weapon and inched toward the door. He froze a few feet from the law office and Reagan dove to the floor. Nate Campbell didn’t spot her but instead saw Barb. He tilted his park ranger hat and strolled forward at a snail’s pace. Barb engaged him in conversation and Reagan split from the building with her gun. Before she could take two steps outside, something smacked her in the head. Knees wobbled and her vision blurred.

  “Where’s the beacon?” A southern twang.

  “The what?” Reagan managed a glimpse at her attacker and his suntanned face.

  “Now don’t give me the old innocent act,” he said wielding a large hunting knife. “I’d hate to have to carve out one of those sparkling honey eyes.”

  Reagan scrutinized the man, trying to find a way out. When she fell, her gun skidded across the pavement, under a dumpster. “Who are you?”

  Deep-set raven eyes surrounded by crow’s feet challenged her. “Quit stallin’.” He smoothed the scraggly goatee.

  Reagan lunged for the knife and grabbed the man’s bony wrist. With surprising strength, he jerked and elbowed her in the face. Her mouth stung as she landed on her backside. The man ripped her backpack and spilled the contents. The beacon rolled a few feet before the man stomped it under his boot.

  “No,” Reagan screamed.

  “Reagan?” Scotty yelled from across the street.

  The attacker wrapped an arm around Reagan’s neck and held the knife at her throat as he dragged her to her feet. “No funny business.”

  Scotty and Barb sprinted around the corner with Nate Campbell tied and dragging behind them. When he saw the predicament, Scotty drew his weapon in record time. “Drop the knife.”

  “Not until we make an exchange,” the man said.

  “Captain Scarborough?” Barb asked.

  Scotty’s eyes widened as he jerked Campbell’s rope. “From your boat?”

  Barb nodded. “We thought you were dead, Lucas.”

  “Guess again,” Scarborough quipped. “Now hand over Campbell before I kill your girl.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Nate Campbell said. “He’s been trying to kill me for the last few days.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a bad thing to me.” Reagan stilled as the knife relaxed.

  “I see you’re still making friends.” Scarborough cackled.

  “What are you doing, Lucas?” Barb asked. “This isn’t you.”

  “Lady, you don’t know the first thing about anythin’ in this world. How do you suppose my boat came to be so isolated? You half-brains didn’t even notice.”

  Reagan seized the opening to kick the boat captain in the knee and elbow him in the stomach. The knife sliced against her throat as they fell to the ground. Scarborough recovered and scurried down the alley. Scotty fired after him as he charged forward, dragging Campbell. His eyes danced between their prisoner, Reagan, and the escaped captain. “We don’t have time to chase him.”

  Barb knelt next to Reagan and applied pressure to the wound. “It’s superficial. I don’t think it’ll even require stitches.”

  Warm, sticky blood trickled from Reagan’s shoulder as she accepted the rag from Barb. “The boat captain, Scarborough, destroyed the beacon.”

  “What?” Scotty kicked at the dumpster.

  “I’m sorry. He clonked me over the head when I charged outside.”

  Scotty waved her off. “I should have known something was fishy when you didn’t show to ambush Campbell.”

  “We thought you might have fallen asleep during the stakeout,” Barb said. “It’s our fault, honey.”

  “Let’s get him back.” Reagan smacked Nate Campbell’s face with her Stetson. She collected the items from her backpack and retrieved her Glock. “You’re gonna talk.”

  “Can I bandage your cut?” Barb asked.

  “Later.” Reagan ripped a piece of material from the sleeve of her torn plaid shirt and blindfolded Campbell.

  “Barb, I don’t know who you’ve teamed up with but this isn’t necessary,” Nate Campbell said.

  “Our camp isn’t far.” Reagan shoved the park ranger.

  Scotty assisted a blindfolded Nate Campbell onto Spirit. “Up you go.”

  “I’m going to fall off with my hands behind my back.” Nate Campbell teetered in the saddle.

  “It’s either this or riding unconscious,” Scotty said. “Captive’s choice.”

  The posse rode to the ranch with their prisoner in tow. Reagan jumped off Bailey to swing the gate of the Lost Countryside Ranch. Granddad waved from the loft.

  “Get Ranger Bob settled in the garage,” Reagan said to Scotty. “Barb and I will take care of the horses and fill everyone in.”

  A few minutes later Reagan entered the living room. Wide eyes awaited answers.

  “Nate Campbell is secure,” Scotty said upon exiting the garage and entering the house.

  “Who’s torturing him?” Meredith asked.

  Torturing Nate Campbell wasn’t off the table, but Reagan planned to use other methods first. “I want Kelly and Barb in the room with me.”

  “And you girls are what, going to talk him to death?” Jasper’s old attitude returned when he was excluded from the expedition.

  “If that was the plan, you’d be going in,” Kelly said.

  Jasper’s face fumed. “I’ve had just about enough.”

  “Jasper, forget your ego for a second and examine the situation as a professional. He killed your son. And at the right moment, we can use your anger to scare him into talking. But first, we’re going in with a different approach.”

  Jasper plopped on the couch. “You have twenty minutes.”

  Kelly, Barb, and Reagan headed inside the garage. Reagan dragged a screeching chair across the floor and removed Nate Campbell’s gag. Scotty tethered him to a sturdy dining room chair and bound his hands. “It’s been a while since we’ve crossed paths.”


  Nate Campbell stretched his face. “Do I know you?”

  Reagan tilted her Stetson. “Is that really how you’re going to play this?”

  “I’m not going to beg for my life. If Nottingham sent you people to kill me, so be it.”

  Reagan arched a brow. “Really? We aren’t working for Nottingham. Are you?”

  “Of course not. I’m trying to stop him.”

  “How? By traveling through the wormholes and killing people?” Reagan asked.

  His eyes widened. “I haven’t killed anyone. Barb, tell them about the kid I saved. Gus.”

  Kelly waved her hands as she spoke. “You admit to knowing her, but not us?”

  “It’s the truth,” Nate Campbell said. “I met her and a different group of people when they were hiding in a store. The kid was shot by a man named Gilbert. He works for Nottingham. I stitched the kid and saved his life. Is Gus alright?”

  “Cut it out,” Reagan said. “This act isn’t fooling anyone. I watched you snap Junior’s neck.”

  “No.” His voice cracked.

  “I shot you when you tried to kill me.” Reagan lifted his blood-stained pant leg to reveal a bandage. “If you don’t start answering my questions honestly, I’m not going to be able to stop Jasper.”

  “Who?”

  “The hot-head father of the kid you killed,” Kelly said. “He’s retired from the FBI. The government would never admit it, but Jasper is a trained interrogator.”

  “I don’t appreciate being threatened and accused of nonsense.” He lowered his head and squeezed his eyes. “What kind of mind games is Nottingham playing?”

  Reagan slapped Nate Campbell’s cheek. “We’re not buying what you’re selling. We’re Nottingham’s lab rats. If you truly are working against him, tell us about the wormholes. Why were you leading us to them when we switched sides?”

  “I don’t know how a bullet hole got in my leg,” he muttered. “It appeared in the middle of the night. I woke up screaming and it was there. I assumed one of the Merry Men found me.”

  “Lame. Even your fallout story was more believable,” Reagan said.

  His eyes found Barb. “Alright, I admit to fibbing about my weather experiment story. While the information was in line with the truth, I didn’t reveal all I knew. I wasn’t sure if you, Tom, Hibbert, and the others were part of the experiment or caught in the crosshairs.”