A loud crack announced Dad had gotten out of the front though he didn’t have to move a rock to do it. Mom’s face had streaks of blood, and bruises were darkening around her eyes. Dad didn’t look much better.
“Any landing you can walk away from,” Dad said then spit out a mouthful of bloody saliva. “I’ve seen worse, but I hadn’t been a passenger at the time.”
Mom came over and checked each of us for wounds. Lots of bruises and a broken tablet. We’d survived, but for how long? The Reclaimers would search the surrounding area as soon as they could.
“Can everyone walk?” Dad asked. Slow nods answered. “Abby, can you carry Oliver?”
“Sure thing, Ranger.” She hoisted our old teacher over her shoulder, fireman style. Dad did the same with Blaze. We headed down the mountain, away from our past lives and into a new future.
I hoped it would be better than what we’d just left.
40
A couple of hours later, we found a small town, which was a godsend. The North Carolina mountains were cold enough that we worried about Blaze and Waxenby being exposed for overlong. The nice part of small towns is how trusting they are, leaving cars unlocked. It turned out Mimi could hotwire a car in under a minute. We took advantage of their trust and her unusual skill and traveled to Harker with the heat going the whole way. We spent a full night and into the next day finding the Harker entrance since it had been built into an old oil silo in the Adirondacks.
Dad and Mimi took the car and drove back to where an old dirt road cut through the hills. About an hour later, they returned. Marcel’s phone had survived, allowing him to access his remote backup server. It took a while since the signal in the mountains left a lot to be desired.
When the door hissed open, musty air escaped from the mildew-laden silo. I missed Castle. After a tour, we all missed Castle.
Harker consisted of an old kitchen, a main area with a table and chairs that belonged in a Western movie, eight small bedrooms, and one bathroom. At least the hot water still worked.
“There has to be more than this.” Marcel stared at his phone screen as if it could magically produce a new hideout. “According to the records, there is a medical bay and the Cellular Regeneration Immersion Device.”
Mom’s bruised face had molted into a camouflage pattern. “Everyone pick a room and search. See if you can find anything out of the ordinary. Mimi and Marcel, stay with Oliver and Blaze. We don’t want any surprises.”
I took the far bedroom and started moving furniture around. It took two minutes since there was a bed, a nightstand with a lamp that had a moth-eaten shade, and an old chest at the foot of the bed. Opening the chest only made the smell worse. The dust had to be an inch thick and dotted with tracks of things I didn’t want to think about.
Blaze is going to die. If Pepper could have shed tears, she would have. My eyes welled up for her. After all we’ve gone through, he’s going to die.
I didn’t know what to say. Without the machine, we had no chance of saving him. I’m sorry.
It’s not freaking fair. After everything we’ve gone through, to end up in this dump is infuriating.
I left the room; no sense wasting time searching the same area twice. The bedroom across the way held the same awful furniture. There must have been a sale at Ugly-Mart. The same setup, the same results. Like Pepper had said, it was time to face the fact that Harker wasn’t what we thought it would be.
I stepped into the kitchen where the rest of the team stood, eyes downcast. Blaze laid on the table and Waxneby sat in a chair, eyes blank.
Whatever Parasite had done to him had messed him up. I wondered if the soft-spoken teacher I knew would ever come back.
“Anything?” Dad asked, already knowing the answer.
“No.”
Marcel scratched at his chin, the faintest wisps of hair starting to grow there. “How could the data be so wrong?”
Pepper’s hopelessness washed over me. We had failed, through no fault of our own, to save Blaze. My teacher and friend. When he died, part of me would go with him. I kicked the refrigerator.
The door sprang open, and the smell of rot filled the air. Flashbacks of melting faces froze me in my tracks.
“Tommy, we checked in there; it’s covered in mold. Close the door before I puke,” Abby said as she pinched her nose to the smell.
I snapped out of the memory, grasping the door to shut it, but something wasn’t right. The mold looked like plastic.
“Oh my God, do I need to do it for you?” Abby stomped toward me, intending to slam it shut.
I held up my hand to stop her. On the bottom shelf, where the growth thickened, I could make out a shape. I breathed deeply, just in case I was wrong, and I pushed my hand into the slime. Relief flooded me when it felt more like petroleum jelly than anything alive. My fingers found an indent in the metal. I pushed my fingers in deeper until I had a lever in my grip. I pulled. Nothing happened. I stepped back, examining the room, certain I would find a change.
Abby noticed it first. “The refrigerator moved.” She pulled on the back, and the whole unit glided across the floor, revealing a small door with a keypad. She turned to me. “Even a broken clock is right twice a day.”
I returned her smile as Marcel pushed past us. He stroked the phone screen a dozen different ways until he found whatever he had been searching for and opened the door. Dad entered first; I followed.
What the hell was that memory from? Biology experiment gone wrong?
Her mentioning it brought it back into my mind. I let the full scene play out for her, “hearing” her gasps of horror as the soldiers melted into the green slime.
That is all sorts of messed up!
A short hallway opened out into a sizable living space. The full-sized kitchen sat off to the right; there were couches and chairs to the left and a large dining table divided the room.
“Hello, may I help you?” A voice filled the room.
Dad glanced around, but there wasn’t anyone visible. “Yes, we are looking for the Cellular Regeneration Immersion device. Our friend is very ill and needs medical attention.”
“Please follow the blue pathway, and it will take you to the med bay.” The female voice had a friendly tone to it.
Tommy, I could kiss you. Pepper’s happiness burnt away the earlier despair. We’re going to beat this yet.
I most certainly hope so.
Dad returned to the kitchen and carried Blaze in; everyone but Mimi and Waxenby, who waited outside the door, were on his heels. We followed the blue lighted strip embedded in the flooring. Down a short flight of stairs, we found the med bay. It had three curtained areas like in a hospital, and an array of equipment unlike anything I’d ever seen before.
The voice came on again. “Please take the patient to the machine at the far end of the room. The doctor will be right with you.”
Marcel glanced around. “Doctor? Here?”
Dad found the machine and waited. A disk in the ceiling slid open, emitting a bright light. After a moment, an older man dressed in a lab coat stood next to Dad. He wore glasses and had long gray hair curling in interesting ways around his head. “Hello, I am Gideon. How may I be of assistance?”
“Our friend has cancer and is dying. We were told the Cellular Regeneration Immersion Device could save his life,” Dad said to the hologram.
“Accessing.” A soft whirring noise came from above us. “Accessing.” Gideon froze in place; my palms started to sweat.
“Yes, it may, but there are side effects we should discuss before we choose this course of treatment. Our facility can provide a full range of chemotherapy and radiation treatments that have a relatively high rate of success. Can I detail these options for you?”
Dad shrugged; this wasn’t his area of expertise. Mom stepped in. “Gideon, can you tell us if this device can remove the cancer from our friend?”
Gideon froze again, the noise picking up as he stood there immobilized. “Yes, it can eliminate can
cer, but the side effects can be extreme, and I will need authorization before beginning.”
Mom touched her face and winced. “Gideon, can you diagnose our friend?”
He didn’t freeze this time. “Certainly, please place him…” The light winked off and Gideon reappeared by an examination table near the center of the room. “Here.”
Dad set Blaze on the table. I could barely make out his chest rising as he breathed. A sweep of lights cascaded over his body as we looked on. When they turned off, Gideon faced Mom. “Your friend has a late-stage Carcinoma that has metastasized to most of his other organs. He is currently experiencing renal failure and has brain activity indicative of a coma.”
“What is our best course of action?”
“Cellular Regeneration Immersion is the only option available to you at this stage, but we need to review the side effects.”
Mom interrupted the hologram. “Gideon, I give consent to begin treatment and to take any measures you deem necessary to save this man’s life. Understood?”
“Understood. Please return him...” Gideon reappeared at the device. “Here.” An audible snap preceded the top of the chamber opening. The machine had an inner chamber, and Dad laid Blaze inside. The bottom had metal studs rising out of the white material of the lining. Once Blaze had been put in, the top swung closed. The lid held an array of monitors and switches.
“The machine will do its work. I will have Glenda inform you when the procedure has completed.”
“Glenda?” I asked.
“The facility has an AI to control all non-medical functions. Ask for what you need, and she will provide it. Good day.” Gideon blinked out of existence as the projector shut off.
Mom shrugged. “Glenda, a member of our team needs medical attention. The rest need showers, food, and a place to sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am. Please place your wounded member in bay three for assistance. You can follow the blue lighted path to the commissary. Yellow to the living quarters.” Glenda’s voice was soft and soothing, like a mother reading a bedtime story.
Abby had to pull Marcel away from examining all the equipment in the med bay. We went back to get Waxenby. We located bay three easily. Mom and Dad helped us make Waxenby comfortable in the bed. Gideon appeared and began to work.
“A medical workup will take hours. Glenda will notify you when it is complete.”
The four of us walked out of the bay. Marcel lingered by some machine that did something. “I think I’ve died and gone to geek heaven.”
I don’t think he meant to get an answer, but Glenda provided it. “Harker is a state-of-the-art medical facility created to ensure all members could receive healing in a secure location.”
Marcel’s mouth pursed. “Members? Members of what?”
“The Dark Brigade.”
We all stopped. We were in the safehouse of the worst terrorist organization known to man. “Do they come back here?” Dad asked, shocked at this revelation.
“This facility did not come online when the Freedom Initiative began. The members who oversaw the construction were eliminated during the mission.”
I took a stab. “No one knows about Harker?”
Glenda didn’t answer for a moment. “Beyond those already present, unknown.”
I guess that was the best we would get. We continued back to the main area. “The yellow band will take you to the bedrooms. There is a food replicator in the kitchen, should you need anything to eat or drink.”
We followed the yellow lit path to a hallway of doors. We each grabbed a room. Mine had a queen-sized bed, a dresser, two nightstands with lamps, and a full bathroom. I fell on the bed and was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
I don’t know how long I slept, but it wasn’t long enough for someone to be shaking me. I pried my eyes open to find Marcel’s face floating before mine. “Bruh, you need to see this.”
I pulled the pillow over my head. “Can’t it wait?”
“No, you need to see this now.”
I debated stunning him, but my reserves were low and, oh yeah, he’s my best friend. I dragged myself out of bed and let him pull me down the hallway. We traced our steps back to the med bay, but instead of going to where Blaze was being healed, or Waxenby examined, he took me to what looked like the freezer door at the Secret Lair.
“Glenda, open the door.” Marcel virtually vibrated with excitement. If this was a new video game console, I would be forced to kill him on principle.
The door swung open, revealing long tubes lying on gurneys. “What are these?”
“Come here.” He led me to a container that he then moved to an open space near the front of the room. My heart stopped. The card on the side read “Raychel Downs.”
That’s me.
I peered through the glass window and saw shocking orange hair and a cute face. How did you get here?
I was dead. How the hell would I know?
Marcel rolled the capsule out into the med bay. “Gideon, can you revive the person in this stasis tube?”
The projector came to life, bringing Gideon back. “Unknown without examination, sir. Please move the capsule over…” He flickered into view on the far side of the freezer. “Here.”
We pushed the capsule over to where he indicated. Divots in the floor held the gurney in place as a disk protruded from the wall, connecting to the stasis chamber. A click and the tub lit up, the readouts flashing vital signs. “The patient is in a brain-dead state. She will not function off life support.”
“Understood,” I said clearly. “Open the chamber, Gideon.”
“Tommy, opening the cryogenic capsules is against standard protocol. She will die if you take her out of stasis.”
I didn’t hear Gideon. Something within me knew what I needed to do.
“Gideon, open it now.” The lid popped slightly as the latches opened. I reached out and lifted the lid. Pepper Spray lay there perfectly preserved.
Stop looking at me. I’m naked!
I reached out and put my hand on her forehead. Her skin was soft and warm. When I absorbed energy, it swirled in me like a hurricane waiting to be unleashed. This felt different; a low hum of a song you know but can’t remember. The touch of dew when you run your hand through the morning fog. A flowing of silk across your hand, cool and shimmering.
Nothing changed; I could still sense Pepper. I pushed further into the experience, making it part of me. I realized I could sense Pepper’s body. The way the cold table felt against her back, the sensation of pressure from where I touched her. Sounds came to me as if echoed, produced from two separate sets of ears.
I focused on the melody of the energy that was Pepper. The music swelled as if an orchestra had joined in, each note a memory or a feeling. I could tell she danced as the song progressed. Then it stopped, and I was alone.
Pepper’s eyes snapped open. “Tommy, you did it. I’m alive.”
I stared at her, unable to speak. Pepper had no such limitations. “Well, stop staring at my boobs and get me something to cover up with.”
It was the last thing I heard before I did what any sensible man would do in this situation. I passed out.
THE END
The Unbreakable Storm will continue…
To keep up with all the news about The Unbreakable Storm and other releases from Patrick Dugan, plus get a free Unbreakable Storm short story, please join his newsletter - https://mailchi.mp/cde71d8d5863/patrick-dugan-newsletter-sign-up
Acknowledgments
Any published book takes countless hours of work once the story is written. Editing, proof reading, cover design, formatting and publication takes an inordinate amount of effort. I’m lucky to be surround by the amazing staff at Falstaff Books. John Hartness, the publisher, took a risk on Storm Forged and I hope I haven’t let him down (too much). Erin Penn works amazingly hard to make the words and ideas flow together. Paul Barrett did the copy editing to ensure what I missed got caught. Alisha Bulkley did the proof reading so that
the typos the rest of us missed don’t end up in the final version. Melissa Gilbert does all my ads that you see them on Facebook or Twitter. Davey Beauchamp did another brilliant cover. I’m running out of wall space to hang his artwork. I am continuously amazed at the quality of the work that comes out of Falstaff’s authors and am humbled to be counted among them.
A special thank you to my Gifted team of beta readers helped strengthen the story and offer lots of moral support. They are Chuck, Jon, Regis, Catherine, Cheri and Joe. If I’ve missed anyone it is completely unintentional.
My family deserves an award for putting up with my long nights of writing and traveling schedule. Emily and Nicholas are terrific kids and have inspired many of the virtues in the Darkest Storm characters. We’ve weathered a lot and they’ve always been by my side.
We lost Emerson last year and our family had been diminished without him. I miss having him lay under my desk while I worked and he always made sure I took breaks to get him treats. I’m sure he’s happy to have the spotlight in Unbreakable Storm and he certainly deserves it. Our new puppy Blaze (yes, named after the character) hasn’t learned to chill yet, but he will, I hope.
My wife, Hope, is the bedrock of our family. She is my first reader, edits my work so that Erin doesn’t kill me and is always supportive. She picks up the slack when I’m buried in edits or burning the candle at both ends. I couldn’t chase my dream of being an author without her love and support. I’m a very lucky guy to have such a family.
And a special thank you to the readers who bought, read, left reviews, read my newsletter and come see me at conventions. I appreciate you more than you’ll ever know.
Falstaff Books
Want to know what’s new
And coming soon from
Falstaff Books?
Try This Free Ebook Sampler
Unbreakable Storm Page 31