This was a live alien being held prisoner underneath his grandmother’s house. The exposure of this could revolutionize The Crew’s research moving forward, but he didn’t know if it was his place to let this secret out quite yet.
Kyle sat on the ground and flipped open the first file to start reading, in hopes of finding the answer he needed.
24
Chapter 24
Colonel Griffins pored over the new day’s briefing, a tremor slowly working its way from his stomach to his chest. He knew this day would come, but not so soon. The boy had just officially joined The Crew and was still on his post-graduation vacation.
Small progress had been made on the tracking devices. More Exalls sprouted up on the map when turning one on, but there were still hundreds unaccounted for across the world. During these times of peace, The Crew was normally able to keep tabs on every Exall since their population on Earth had shrunk to under 1,000.
As of the recent updates to the software, only half of those could be located. They’d never discovered a trend in the past where more than half of their peaceful population left, so everyone believed the tracking devices remained lumps of faulty equipment.
The Crew had to resort to a more . . . traditional method for finding the doctor and his young companion: stalking. They had Crew members going into every bar and gas station that ran along the path from Denver to Kansas City to Washington, D.C. The colonel knew they were coming, but he didn’t want to alert anyone without proof.
It had become obvious after the attacks at the country music festival that the time had arrived for the Exalls to make a move on The Crew, more specifically on Kyle Wells. Susan had put that writing on the wall, leaving behind all sorts of hints and clues on what to look for. Griffins always questioned how she seemed to have a sense for what the Exalls were up to; it sometimes felt as if she had an insider feeding her information.
Colonel Griffins pulled out one of the last notes Susan had left him, reading it for the thirtieth time this week to make sure everything was as it seemed.
Not all remaining Exalls are peaceful.
They will make uncharacteristic attacks.
These new kind of attacks will have the goal of infecting as many humans as possible, growing their population of violence-crazed individuals.
The Exalls are coming for me and my grandson. They know I have the capability to bring them down, and will fight to the death to hurt me and Kyle.
If any of these events happens, prepare to defend the city.
Colonel Griffins checked his watch to find the time was just past eleven at night, and sighed at the thought of having to sleep in one of the dormitories for the third straight night. The days were starting to take their toll on him, making him drag himself out of bed in the mornings because all he wanted was more sleep. But knowing what was coming in the next couple of weeks meant sleep would have to wait, or else the entire world might be put to rest.
He dreaded the phone call he had to make, but it was time to make arrangements for the pending attacks likely headed directly for the Pentagon.
Colonel Griffins pulled open his drawer and took a quick swig from his flask before picking up the phone, his fingers running on autopilot as they dialed Kyle’s number.
The phone rang and rang, and Colonel Griffins was about to slam the handpiece down when a teenage voice answered, “Hello?”
“Kyle Wells, it’s the colonel. How are things going out there?”
“They’re going fine.” The boy sounded exhausted.
“Were you napping, son? It’s only three o’clock your time.”
“I haven’t got much sleep the last couple of days, Colonel.”
The colonel held the phone between his shoulder and ear as he flipped open his laptop to pull up the tracking software. He zoomed into Denver and found Kyle at Susan’s old house, just to be sure.
“What’s keeping you up at night?” He figured it was just teenage drama. Maybe Kyle ran into an old crush from high school and couldn’t sleep, the way teenagers obsessed over those they dreamed of dating.
Kyle cleared his throat and a loud ruffle came from the phone as he adjusted himself. “Colonel, have you ever been to my grandma’s basement?”
“A couple of times, yes.”
“I mean have you really been into it. All the way?”
Colonel Griffins was too tired for questions. “Yes, yes, I’ve been down there. Is there something you need to tell me?”
A long pause.
“Kyle?”
“I think you need to come here. There’s something you need to see.”
“I surely can’t go there right now. I was actually calling you to let you know we need you back in D.C. first thing in the morning.”
“I can’t leave yet, Colonel.”
“What the hell do you mean you can’t leave?!” Colonel Griffins stood from his seat and slammed a free hand on top of his desk as he spoke. “I need you back in D.C. immediately, and that’s an order.”
“Sir, I don’t think you understand.”
The colonel’s head itched with fatigue and he felt his tipping point fast approaching if this teenage boy continued to refuse to come back to work.
“Whatever you have, you need to bring with you. We are on the verge of a crisis here and you’re needed. In fact, forget about tomorrow morning, we’ll get you on a flight tonight.”
“Colonel, whatever is going on, I might have the answers here. It’s not something I can bring back to Washington with me. But if you come look, you might find a way to make that happen.”
“This isn’t a discussion, Wells. Get your ass on the next flight to D.C. and we can discuss whatever you need in my office.”
Colonel Griffins slammed the phone down, hanging up on Kyle, who was surely taken aback by the sudden burst of rage. They had just finished their last war four years ago, and it didn’t end well, with Susan losing her life. The past few years had been peaceful, but ever since the attacks at the Colorado bar, everything seemed to be falling apart, his sanity included.
Why are the Exalls attacking us again? Why don’t our trackers work? Why does no one seem to know what’s going on these days?
Colonel Griffins found himself asking these same questions dozens of times each day. There was a time when The Crew seemed to always be one step ahead of the Exalls. But lately, everything had been a reaction to their savage attacks on human life. Attacks inching closer to Washington. Many within the Crew grew wary of what a showdown would look like. It was no secret the Crew no longer held an intelligence advantage. The two members who were killed in Michigan during their private raid sent a fresh wave of worry throughout the organization.
If two of the finest Crew members couldn’t contain one Exall in isolation, what could that mean for the supposed army the Exalls were building as they moved east? No one liked discussing the possibilities, but Colonel Griffins certainly thought about them every day, all day long. The day was coming, he sensed, where he’d have to make the unfortunate trip to the Oval Office to discuss Plan D with the president.
Griffins always suspected the day would come. The Crew simply couldn’t keep up with the way the Exalls advanced every thirty years when they returned. Eventually the aliens would reach a break-even point and pass them. He imagined this time would come well after he was a pile of bones in the ground, not in the middle of 2020 with a teenager as their freshest recruit.
Kyle was supposed to be groomed over the next two decades, The Crew filling his head with all the knowledge of hundreds of years of research on the Exalls. Only once he had that knowledge would he be fully equipped to go out into the world and destroy Exalls just as his grandmother had.
Dr. Klemens had chucked the rulebook out the window, and knew by doing so, The Crew was vulnerable. Preparations for battle typically took five years to solidify, including new combat training for all soldiers who would go out into the field and put their lives on the line.
Now, there was no p
reparation, and the leadership argued with each other about every little thing. Everyone had an opinion on what to do next as the Crew scrambled to stay afloat despite the glaring doomsday that lie ahead.
Griffins sent a text message to the head of intelligence, Brandon Grady, to come to his office. Within two minutes, Grady knocked on the door and let himself into the room.
“Close the door and have a seat,” Griffins said, the whiskey he had sipped earlier now settling in and making him the slightest bit of relaxed.
“Something wrong, sir?” Grady asked as he made his way into his seat.
“Something is always wrong, you know that. I wanted to ask you about our plans for an attack here in D.C. We know they’re coming east, and we know they want Wells. There’s no denying any of that at this point. My concern is that they will not be subtle with their intentions, and we can’t afford chaos in the streets. This is the nation’s capital, for fuck’s sake. If there is an attack by the Exalls in this city, the news will be to Hong Kong within five minutes.”
Grady nodded as he listened, as if he knew all of this already.
“We’ve had teams going at it around the clock in Colorado, Kansas City, and Louisville. We can confirm that at least 250 people were infected across all three attacks—very likely more. We still don’t know where they’re all hiding. Just about everyone in that Louisville restaurant was attacked, but not one person can be found. It’s like they disappeared off the map.”
“Any word on the trackers?”
“The technology team is saying the trackers are fine now, but there are still hundreds of Exalls unaccounted for, so they’re going back to the drawing board to see if they can find a way to get the devices to read even lower thermal outputs without having to redesign the entire device.”
“Jesus Christ. We don’t have time for starting from scratch.”
“I know that, sir. They know that, too. But there really is no choice at the moment. If they don’t find a way by starting over, then we are stuck with the devices we have and can only hope the Exalls don’t discover they can no longer be tracked.”
“Of course they know it already. Why do you think they’re coming this way so aggressively? We can’t read a damn thing about where this doctor and kid are. Do we have a tail on them yet?”
“No, sir. We thought we found them, but it was a false alarm.”
“I want them shot on sight. I don’t care who comes across them, just shoot them and get it over with.”
“I’ll get the word out immediately.” Grady whipped a cell phone out of his jacket’s inside pocket and started typing on his screen.
“Do you know anything about Susan Wells’ bunker? Anything special about it?”
Grady scrunched his face as he ran through the mental files in his mind. “No. All bunkers should be built the same except for the president’s. Hers might even be a bit outdated, considering when it was made. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. That’s all I needed for today. If you can get that word out and keep doing what you’re doing, we just have to take this one day at a time.”
“Thank you, sir, let me know if you need anything else.”
Grady let himself out of the room and left Griffins to lean back in his chair and stare to the ceiling. The colonel knew Susan liked to keep a lot of secrets to herself.
What could have Kyle found in that basement?
25
Chapter 25
Kyle felt his brain on the verge of physically splitting down the center. He had rushed out of the secret lab to receive the call from Colonel Griffins. When his phone had buzzed in his pocket, he was standing over the greatest secret in the country. Sandra didn’t say anything as Kyle left the room, shouting that he’d be right back.
He probably shouldn’t have answered the call, his mind in a state of shock. But the colonel didn’t seem to suspect anything, and he clearly didn’t know about the secret Exall.
Kyle had started reading through the documents Susan left behind. Most of the information came directly from Sandra instead of Susan’s observations. Susan was working on finding a cure for any infection received by a human through Exall blood. Notes and charts stuffed the file with different combinations of potential chemicals to counteract the blood, but the experiment appeared incomplete, the notes abruptly stopping in late 2008.
Nothing suggested what Kyle was supposed to do with all of this information. Sandra had told him that Susan knew he would do the ‘right’ thing, but what did that mean?
His natural instinct to keep secrets kicked in, but this wasn’t so much a secret as it was a discovery. Nowhere did it say he shouldn’t tell anyone about what he found. Susan had left him personalized notes, knowing he would uncover this. If she meant for it to remain hidden from The Crew, then wouldn’t she have mentioned that?
The right thing to do was tell Colonel Griffins. Kyle was too new to The Crew to take this on alone. Maybe the right thing to do depended on when Kyle found the secret. If he discovered this twenty years later, as a seasoned Crew member, it might be a different scenario. But as of today, this was way above his head and pay grade.
The colonel wouldn’t listen, however, and demanded Kyle return to D.C. immediately, hanging up the call before he could respond. Kyle knew better than to disobey an order, and rushed back into the laboratory.
“I need to leave,” he told Sandra, stuffing papers back into files and returning them to their cabinet drawers.
“You just got here,” she replied, turning her head to watch as Kyle paced frantically around the room. “When are you coming back?”
“I don’t know, but hopefully soon. They just called me and said I need to get back to Washington.”
“They did that to Susan quite a bit. Seemed like she was always having to drop everything and fly to some other city. But she always came back.”
“I’ll be back, I promise. And I’m probably going to bring someone else with me.”
“Don’t let them kill me,” Sandra said flatly, almost uninterested in the conversation. “I know lots of your kind only want to kill us. I don’t mean any trouble for you, and I’m willing to help however you need.”
“No one is going to kill you.”
Kyle didn’t know this for certain, and had a fresh wave of doubt about telling the colonel. His internal clock ticked, despite not knowing the actual time. He had come into the basement shortly after noon, and a quick check of his cell phone showed that it was already three o’clock.
“I really need to go. I’ll see you again very soon.”
Kyle ran out of the lab and down the twisted hallway to the panic room. He arranged the ladder and climbed out of the freezer, returning to the pantry, quiet and undisturbed, slamming the freezer door shut, mind racing.
A real Exall, living under us the whole time.
The thought sent a chill up his back, all the hairs on his body stiffening. He desperately wanted to ask his father if he knew, but didn’t want to frighten him in case he didn’t. Kyle owned this secret until he returned to the Pentagon and told Colonel Griffins in person.
Kyle turned off all the lights in the basement before sprinting upstairs, through the kitchen and into his bedroom.
“The quicker I get to D.C., the quicker I come back here with the colonel,” he said to himself, throwing his suitcase on the bed and stuffing clothes into it with no sort of organization.
He pulled out his cellphone and called his dad.
“Where are you?” Kyle asked as soon as Travis answered.
“Just finishing up at the gym. Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know. I just got called back to D.C. I need to leave now.”
“Well, shit. Do you need a ride to the airport?”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay, I’ll be right there. Ten minutes.”
As soon as he hung up with Travis, Kyle called his mom.
“Mom, I’m leaving right now.”
“Leaving? I thought
you had another week?” Her voice instantly broke at the news.
“I know, but they called me and said I need to get back immediately. I should be able to come back soon.”
“What are they making you go back for?”
“I don’t know, but it sounded important.”
“Goddammit,” she snarled. “I’m stuck at work or I’d stop over to say bye. Will you let me know when you get to D.C.?”
“Of course.”
“Okay, have a safe trip. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Kyle hung up and tossed his phone onto the bed, sitting down at the empty desk next to the room’s only window that overlooked the front yard, oblivious that it was the final conversation he’d ever have with his mother.
The secret grew like a brain tumor, pushing against his skull, begging to be let out.
Kyle craned his neck to look out the window and saw his dad’s convertible Audi crawl up the driveway, the engine a steady hum in the quiet neighborhood. His stomach plummeted at the sight, not knowing for sure when he’d come back to visit his new friend stashed underground like a prisoner. He hoped whatever the colonel needed him for would distract his mind enough. If not, he just might lose all of his sanity.
The backdoor creaked open as Travis entered. I should have just stayed down there, Kyle thought. Stayed there until they came to find me, if the tracking device even works that well underground.
He knew they would check the bunker, but if no one knew about the secret lab, he could have hidden there forever.
Stop talking about hiding. Cowards hide. There’s not even anything to hide from.
“Kyle?” Travis asked from the bedroom doorway, startling his son. “I’ve been calling your name. Is everything okay? You look a bit off.”
“I’m fine, just a little nervous.”
“About going back?”
“Yeah. The colonel sounded pretty fired up. I’m not sure if he’s mad at me or just mad at the world.”
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