“What about your reward?”
Reward? Assuming he meant monetary, who would charge Duncan to care for my sister and me? Perhaps the person who had originally arranged this time travel fiasco demanded cash. “Put the money in the twins’ account,” I said, tapping a finger on the dome in Duncan’s hands. “Trust me, they’ll need it.” I left before anyone would remember what I would look like in the near future—my present day. The goggles alone might incite utter chaos.
The dark office materialized around me. The time travel ended before I could finish what I intended to accomplish. I jumped to my feet and shoved the computer chair into the wall. “Bloody hell!” I forgot to warn Duncan not to interfere with the zygotes—with Ariane and me. Why so forgetful? I slumped into the chair to think. Did I really intercept the zygotes, or had I imagined it? Dreamt it? Did our transformation happen because I forgot to warn Duncan about the consequences? If he used the zygotes’ DNA to alter Ariane and me, then what happened to the zygotes? Did they perish or were Ariane and I direct descendants of the zygotes? A realization struck me cold. This entire mess was quite possibly my fault.
24
ROUTE 66
T wo weeks had passed since my run-in with Sabree. As for retrieving the next flash drive, my plan to go it alone had crashed and burned. The big party crasher—Eric—announced that he would be attending a laboratory class in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I refused to leave Ariane home alone even with Jesse, doubting the metro marvel could survive Sabree’s wrath.
The new plan required Ariane and Jesse’s attendance. They would join me and stand watch while I retrieved the drive. Persuading Jesse to hand over the clue without involving Eric or warning Wayde could pose a problem. In my favor, Jesse rarely confided in Eric, believing his attitude toward him brusque. Too bad my sister fell for Eric instead of Jesse.
Luck was on my side. Jesse’s thirst for travel surpassed the norm, joining the Route 66 groupies, who spent hard-earned vacation time along the cult highway. Odd how his passion for travel developed after his best friend died while road tripping the Grand Canyon. Maybe Jesse felt closer to him when he traveled, daring the Fates to take him as well. He couldn’t have found a better place to bury his flash drive than at one of his favorite scenic stops. The decoded anagram read, “Jesse Rivers. Amboy Crater. Buried dead center in metal box,” instructing me to go to Amboy Crater outside Twentynine Palms Marine Base in California. Good thing I brought a metal detector.
In a strange way, I envied Jesse for finding the free time to pursue his hobby. He leapt at the opportunity to tag along. My lips parted while the backseat passengers chatted and pointed at the tourist sites. Ariane received the grand tour from Jesse’s vacation experiences.
Not paying attention to the road, my foot jammed the brake. I almost missed the turn onto Crater Road that led to a parking lot adjacent the footpath. The chatter stopped when I braked the jeep hard. “We’re here.”
“About time,” Ariane said, poking my shoulder. Then she nudged Jesse. “I can’t imagine you hiding anything in this godforsaken dust bowl.”
As instructed, the passengers stayed inside the jeep until I announced the coast clear. Wary eyes peered through the windshield, glanced at each side-mounted mirror, and then eyed the rearview mirror for signs of Wayde and his men. Sabree’s red Jag would stand out like a blood-fattened tick crawling up white pants. Same with Ariane’s lime Ford Fiesta, which is why I opted to rent a desert-camo jeep. The parking lot and nearby desert were clear.
Before I killed the ignition, the DJ announced a northerly breeze kept the heat down. “Everyone out,” I said. “Today’s itinerary calls for a short hike up the crater to retrieve the flash drive. Then drive home—all without incident.” Abso-bloody-lutely. What were the odds?
When my remark didn’t spark Ariane and Jesse into action, I ordered, “Out of the jeep now. Let’s do this.” Sure enough, my bravado on overdrive, I had already jinxed the scavenger hunt.
“Good luck with that,” Ariane said. She and Jesse got out of the jeep while I leaned into the hatch to dig out the packs. I tossed Jesse a pack embroidered with a large 66 and then retrieved the metal detector.
The morning sun warmed the earth from its low position in the sky. As promised, a cool breeze, like opening a freezer door, rolled across the volcanic field. January was the perfect time of year for a desert hike. I threw on a light hoodie over my tank top. Like me, my sister wore a long-sleeved Henley to protect her fair complexion. But there the comparison stopped. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing when she snubbed her nose at me and reached inside the backseat to pull out the yellow sombrero she had purchased.
“I can so outdo you one better,” Ariane said. She curtsied.
Jesse chuckled. “Guess it’s better than nothing. I can’t believe you forgot to bring a hat.”
I chimed in. “So much for covert mission. You and your bloody hat will stand out for miles.”
“It’s all the truck stop had. Come on, let’s get this over with.” Ariane huffed in disgust and stomped toward the trailhead.
With the metal detector strapped to my pack, I let her take the lead for now. We hiked along the mile footpath that meandered toward the ten thousand-year-old volcano. Minutes had passed by, and already my sister fell back, especially after I suggested they stay close in case someone was waiting up ahead to ambush us.
She shook her head and folded her arms across her chest. “Paranoid as always, Brian. Where would they hide? Inside the restrooms we passed minutes ago?”
Next to her, Jesse stopped to unfold the guidebook. He read aloud, “Amboy Crater is a perfect example of a symmetrical volcanic cinder cone. The inside of the crater contains two lava dams and behind the dams, small lava lakes formed. They are now flattened, covered with light colored clay, creating the impression of small-scale dry lakes.” He closed the book and added, “We’ll ascend the west side where basaltic lava covers the ground. The total hike is three and a half miles round—”
“We get the idea, Jesse,” I growled. “Save your breath for the climb.” Neither one of my hiking partners seemed to take this hunt seriously. Danger lurked. From a distance, my intuition sensed someone’s eyes upon us. More than one set coming from opposite directions. Couldn’t see them but sensed that they observed us with cruel intent. The drive top priority, my suspicions took a back seat.
After a playful shrug, Ariane grabbed Jesse’s arm, making sure not to hit him with the sombrero’s wide rim. She whispered that my ability to hear as good as a bat annoyed her too. Jesse’s halfhearted smile egged her on. “Give me that guidebook so I can toss it at his head. Knock the foul mood from my brother’s noggin. Damn his fifty shades of pissed off.”
I ignored their tug-a-war over the guidebook and examined the trail ahead. Unlike traditional volcanic lava flows with steep mountain-like cones, this one looked like a fat-ass giant sat on it and squashed the cone into the earth. According to the guidebook, the footpath ascended approximately 250 feet up the west side where the crater breached. A piece of paper ripped in my ear. I almost slapped the guide from his hands. Still clutching it, Jesse almost fell back. Enough silly business, the break over with, I waved them onward.
We started on our way and trekked over a mile until we reached the bottom of the cone. From there, I pivoted west and followed the thin trail lined with loose lava scree. It turned into an upward ascent right away. Ahead, I climbed as if I were a gazelle, light and quick on my feet until I reached the rim of the crater. I paused to scan the perimeter and signal a thumbs-up. “The top,” I hollered down to them.
Before me, the view spanned for miles. Mountains aligned the horizon. In every direction, the desert looked the same: layers of sand peppered with black lava and dotted with dried brush. Route 66 and Roy’s Motel Café were the only landmarks.
With Jesse at her side, Ariane quickened her pace until they reached the rim. “No sign of Wayde and his men yet?” she asked. “What’s next?”
/> The metal detector wielded in my grasp like a battle-ax, I stared at Jesse. “Well?”
“Head for the middle of the crater. I buried it dead center. Guide it over the sand until the damn thing wails like a banshee.” Under his baseball cap, he tightened the bandana to keep the long hair out of his eyes. Jesse tossed a bottle of sunscreen to Ariane. “Hey, paleface, you need this more.”
“Coming from a half Navajo, half black wise guy, I guess I resemble that remark.” She squirted some in her hands and tossed the tube back.
Bloody hell. And still neither one had a clue. An ear-piercing ding shrieked across the crater when I kicked the metal detector down the volcanic dip. “Wake up people. We’re on a mission, not a weekend hike.” My shaky finger pointed at the detector. As far as I was concerned, the bloody thing belonged where it landed. “This is absurd. You must have a grudge against me.” I glared at Jesse.
“Professor Colton told us to hide the drives in the most isolated locations imaginable.”
Ariane whipped the sombrero off her head and let it drop at her feet. She lowered her sunglasses and flashed me a silent warning and mouthed, “Bite me.”
The heat within made me count to ten. She and Jesse had volunteered to help, not put up with my spiteful attitude. But still, it’d help if they took this hunt seriously.
“Hope you didn’t break it,” Ariane said. “Check it out and I’ll catch up.”
The overhead sun could barely compete with the cool westerly wind. Behind me, my sister pulled the baseball cap off Jesse’s head and replaced it with her discarded sombrero.
“We’ll switch hats on the way down. I can’t see where I’m going in this oversized banana peel. Holler if you see anything.”
“Nothing but a bird’s-eye view from here,” Jesse said as he stepped onto the rim.
When Ariane reached my side, she was still grumbling. Best ignore her until we found the drive. The reason for us being here. For endangering ourselves. I switched the detector on and held it steady. The base hovered an inch above the ground. My biceps rippled as I drove it toward the center. Ariane followed in my footsteps. Every so often, we both glanced behind to check on Jesse. She waved back every time he signaled a thumbs-up.
Near the center, the rhythmic beeping whined a constant whirl, signaling we hit the jackpot. I tossed the heavy detector aside and dropped to my knees. The top layer of white sand felt smooth against my fingertips. Ariane landed next to me and dug into the sand matching my frenzy.
A siren in the distance startled us. The clamor sent a few curious ravens in flight. She and I glanced at Jesse when the flock flew in his direction.
Again, Jesse signaled a thumbs-up. I pushed my sunglasses higher on the bridge of my nose and scanned the crater. The peaceful void along the shimmering edge eased my nerves. The siren receded and blasted one last time before it stopped. I cocked my head, recalling the nearby base. Although a morning drill, I took the warning to heart. Never ignore an alarm whether false or true. “It’s the military base.”
“Got it,” she said as she pulled out a small shovel from her pack. “This could be the spot.”
We both spun around when Jesse whistled from the rim, jumping up and down, and waving the sombrero over his head. “Hurry! Looks like we might have company.”
“Bloody hell,” I growled. Frustrated with the way things progressed, I stabbed the dirt with my shovel like a serial killer stabbing a victim. “We’re almost there.”
At its zenith, the sun shadowed the lookout. Ariane signaled Jesse to join us. Metal striking metal drew her attention to my progress.
“We struck gold,” I announced. Slender fingers brushed loose debris from the small box. Further inspection revealed a lid, which I pried open and pulled out the drive. The florescent-yellow rectangle held between my thumb and forefinger, I squinted to read the attached message. “Brian, prep Ariane to quell her shock, enter tomb. Herein: get drive, find cuff, use smart portals. 939-737-1276.” I exchanged glances with my sister. “No idea which number drive this is, but it looks like they’re color coded. Can you memorize the number?”
“I can do one better.” She snatched her cell phone and snapped a picture, texting herself and me the image.
Why didn’t I think of that? Nerves? “Smart,” I said, slipping the anagram and drive inside the protective sleeve and stuffing it in my pack.
Scree trickled a few hundred feet away; the sound undetectable to human ears. My peripheral vision perceived irregular movement. Almost detected the image of Sabree in mist form. Panic settled in my gut. On the opposite crater’s edge, three men appeared over the rim. “Jesse!” I saw no sign of him. “Bloody hell,” I yelled, throwing the shovel at the intruders.
Ariane stood up as if she meant to go to his rescue. “If they hurt Jesse, so help them.”
The armed figures pointed at us. I grabbed her arm when they dropped their heavy packs and ran in our direction.
“What do we do?” Ariane asked me.
“They’re not getting it, not this time.” Using superior strength, I kicked the detector in their direction. It tumbled across the lava bed and almost hit one of the men. “Run, Ariane!” I cried, shoving her in the direction where I spotted Sabree.
Behind me, my sister ran as fast as she could, probably thinking I was right behind her. She scrambled up the steep terrain and slipped onto all fours. She glanced back, surprised to see me in the same spot. I waved her on before I charged Wayde’s men.
The instant gunfire exploded over the crater, a voice ordered, “Stop!”
My sister’s bloodcurdling scream resounded across the basin. I stumbled to a standstill, swayed, and fell spread eagle into the sand. Beneath me, the hoodie felt sticky and wet. A sharp stabbing pain spread from my sternum to my limbs. Numbness coursed through my veins. This scavenger hunt, like the last, had taken a nose dive. Quite literally, I scoffed as my breath wheezed into the sand. Footfalls stopped short of where I had collapsed. As darkness veiled my consciousness, I hoped Ariane and Jesse escaped.
3 3 3
The horror in her eyes hindered Sabree from responding. He hoped her stares resulted from the shock of witnessing Wayde’s goons shoot her brother and not from his deteriorating magnetism. A tap on the brim lowered his baseball cap. He had transformed from angel to zombie, ever since Scotland, ever since Brian shot him three times. He had lost his vitality. He dared not seek help from the Caderen while his system reeked of ghoulish blood. The clan would find seven brethren to see him destroyed. Like his friend Turian, Sabree was now cursed.
Loose scree warned him of someone’s approach. He covered Ariane’s mouth and whispered in her ear. “Stay low.” Tears welled in her eyes. Sabree covered her body with his and misted halfway, letting the shimmer resemble the lava around him, a chameleon trick he learned long ago on covert missions.
A voice called out from the ridge above them. “She’s long gone.”
The men packed up their gear. Excited voices reacted to the leader’s orders. Sabree resumed solid form. An approaching helicopter in the distance made Ariane squirm beneath him. He rolled aside and stooped low, so he could peer over the rim.
The sound of Ariane dusting off her pants reached his ears. She steadied herself by grabbing his arm, but quickly let go. “It’s Wayde,” she hissed. “We have to go after Brian.”
“Too late to save your brother. Wayde’s men outnumber us. But I can rescue your human friend.”
“Jesse? Please, save him.”
“Only if you promise to stay here until I return. The three of us will help your brother.”
“How?”
“For starters, you should lay off the anti-vamp serum to claim your Fallen gifts. You’re useless as a mortal. Stay here, otherwise Wayde will end up with both of you. Understand?”
The whop, whop, whop of rotor blades grew louder as the helicopter prepared to land in the crater’s center. Ariane’s eyes widened. “Yes, yes, just save Jesse.”
Sabree m
isted behind one of Wayde’s goons where he last saw Ariane’s friend. The man called Mohjo stared at the helicopter, his gun pointed at Jesse who sat on a boulder cradling his skull. Which of the two deficiencies gave Jesse a worse headache? The yellow sombrero or his idiocy for letting Mohjo catch him.
He tapped the bald man’s shoulder, who whirled around, his weapon aimed high. Sabree snatched his wrist and squeezed until he dropped the gun. A quick yank pulled Mohjo closer and he plunged his fangs into the sinewy throat. The warm blood tasted salty with a metallic aftertaste, not sweet like the twins’ blood. He drank the human dry and let his limp body drop.
A quick snack never hurt. Sabree stepped aside to fetch Jesse. All that remained was the yellow sombrero atop a boulder. Twenty-five feet ahead, he saw Jesse crawling on all fours. Sabree crossed his arms and shook his head. “Where do you think you’re going?” He overtook the mortal in seconds, lifting him off the ground as he sped back to Ariane.
She had disobeyed his orders and crawled to the crest of the crater where she peered over the ridge. Sabree dropped Jesse on the ground next to her and landed on his stomach to flank her other side. Ariane wrapped an arm around her friend and inquired about his condition while Sabree took in the view below. Wayde’s men lifted a gurney into the helicopter.
“Both of you stay low.” He lowered his hand toward the ground to stress his point before misting inside the helicopter and kept transparent enough to eavesdrop.
Brian’s chest oozed with the sweet ambrosia Sabree so craved. His constant misting taxed his system. He needed to stay vigilant. Apparently, he had given Ariane an inaccurate report about them tranquilizing her brother. Blood changed into dust at a slower rate because of the copious amount that flowed, despite the gauze applied over the wound. The pilot requested permission to land at the DanJal base camp. Sabree let his body fade and reappeared next to Ariane.
“I know where they’re taking him. Not good.” No need to worry Ariane about her brother’s condition. Although severely wounded, Brian would recover. Sabree wondered if he would ever mend. What impaired the healing process? He had his suspicions. “We had better go. We have a rescue mission to plan.”
Amongst the Fallen Page 16