by J. R. Rain
He said, “At least let me go first. Oh, and get a kitchen knife.” He raised a hand in peace at her protest. “Just in case, Anna. Maybe it’s not your uncle, or maybe he’s in trouble. Either way, we’re stupid to not have a weapon.”
Anna crossed to the counter, still tiptoeing, and retrieved the largest knife she could find. “Don’t you dare hurt my uncle. Maybe I should go first.”
“Let’s go together. Side by side.”
It didn’t help that the door creaked open. They both jumped at the sound; indeed, the creaking seemed to reawaken the groans from below, too. Anna always hated the fact that the chain-pull for the light was at the bottom of the stairs. She hated it even more now.
Who the hell puts the light pull at the bottom of the stairs? she thought for the hundredth time.
And so they descended the shadowy stairs, afraid, touching shoulders, and very nearly holding hands. Only the ambient light from the kitchen above lit their way.
Halfway down the stairs, the shadows of two figures stopped the teenagers dead in their tracks. Now, in the faint light, Anna could see, amazingly, astonishingly, that the figures were her uncle and his friend.
“Oh, my God!” she said and, to Jared’s surprise, hurried down the steps to the dangling light chain-pull below.
Anna hadn’t taken the time to think of what she might find down here, but she sure as hell wasn’t expecting the horror waiting for her.
“Holy shit!” said Jared behind her when the light splashed across the square-shaped room made of brick and sporting various support beams.
And secured to two such beams was, to her utter shock, her Uncle Joe and his friend Mike. Both recoiled from the light, trying to shield their eyes, and neither showed any signs of recognizing her. Mostly, they looked horribly ill with skin that was a deathly gray, and vomit and foam dripping from their mouths and onto their clothing. Although shielding their eyes from the single bulbs, Anna noticed two things about their eyes: they were blood red...and angry.
So angry.
Additionally, both were handcuffed, which meant her dad had something to do with it. She was beginning to see why her didn’t want her coming back alone.
Yeah, she got it now.
“Uncle Joe!” Despite her fear, Anna took a step toward him. He cocked his head. Listened for a second, then bared his teeth and lunged. Anna screamed and jumped back. If Jared hadn’t held her up, she would have fallen.
The chained men regarded the young pair and yanked on their handcuffs harder, the metal cutting into their wrists. Their eyes...so red, so filled with hate.
Not hate, she thought. They’re sick. Just sick...
“Anna,” said Jared behind her, his voice barely above a whisper, “we’ve got to get out of here.”
“No!” she said loudly, tearing free of his grasp. “We’ve got to do something. Look at them!”
“Oh, I am,” said Jared softly. He didn’t know Anna’s uncle or this other guy, and right now he didn’t care if Lady Gaga was chained only a few feet away. “Anna, you can’t touch them. Let’s get out of here. Now.”
“We have to help them! Look, the light is hurting their eyes.”
Jared grabbed her hand, tightly. “There’s something wrong with them, Anna. Something bad...and if they weren’t chained up...Jesus, look at how they’re looking at us. They want to friggin’ kill us.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Yes, you are. I’ll turn out the light for them, but we’re getting the hell out of here and away from them.” He took her hand and pulled her back toward the stairs. She resisted, but not by much. Just then, one of the men—her uncle maybe, he didn’t know—literally lunged at them like a caged animal.
Jared didn’t like the thought of switching off the light, but he figured it was best to leave things the way they had found them—with the lights off.
He pushed Anna ahead of him, up the stairs, then reached back. As he did so, he looked for a final time at the two men chained to the support beams. They stared at him with reddish eyes, swaying slightly...and making low, growling noises insides their throats.
No, not men, he thought, yanking off the light. Not any more.
The teens bolted up the stairs.
Chapter Sixteen
For the most part, I trusted my instincts. Every good cop does. And, yes, despite Carla’s occasional teasing, park rangers are cops, too. Most officers feel their way through any situation, trusting their training and equipment. But mostly, they trusted their instincts.
I knew it was the right decision to send Anna to Brice’s house. And, as difficult as it was, I was at peace with my decision to chain up my brother and his friend. They were out of their minds, delusional...and violent. I would deal with—and accept—the consequences of my actions…later.
You cuffed your brother in the basement, in the dark.
I had to, I told myself now as I pulled into the driveway of my ex-wife’s fairly secluded Los Feliz home. The light was hurting their eyes...
Yes, I trusted my instincts—except for now. I turned and looked at the woman next to me. A cop, yes, but she was also a woman I was interested in. Perhaps more than interested. Why had I allowed her to come?
The answer, of course, was obvious: I hadn’t so much allowed her to come as she had insisted. She was a force of nature in her own right and so I had relented.
Bad idea, I thought.
Then again, what was a good idea? The police would shoot first and ask questions later. For now, I needed to find medical help for him. First and foremost. Truth was, I could use the help.
I cut the engine. I’d always enjoyed the peace and quiet here. The sycamores, maples and eucalyptus, along with well-groomed gardens, provided a priceless privacy that I just couldn’t get when Anna and I slept at the zoo or observatory.
Admittedly, the house now appeared ominous. It seemed taller, too, and I could almost sense the dark secret lurking inside.
“Maybe I should handle this on my own, Carla—”
“For God’s sake, Carter, can it.” She took my hand in hers. It was warm and gave me back a little strength.
She noticed the bright red mark on my knuckles, a wound that had only seemed to be getting worse. “What’s wrong with your hand?” she asked. She leaned and looked at it a little more closely. She wrinkled her nose. “It’s infected.”
“It’s something,” I said, and gently pulled my hand away.
I didn’t have time to worry about my hand. Maybe Carla could make some sense of all this where I couldn’t. Although we both worked in the same field, my line of work—working within the park system—was a little more sheltered. I think a part of me wanted someone to tell me that I wasn’t crazy.
So crazy, I thought. All of this. Maybe I’m the one who’s sick. Maybe I’m the one in a hospital somewhere.
But...no such luck. Unless I was having the mother of all delusions, I was presently sitting next to the woman I cared about, outside of my ex-wife’s home, where my brother and his friend were currently chained in my basement.
Jesus.
I took her hand with my good one and squeezed it, briefly reveling in the warmth. “All right, come on.”
We stepped out, and as we headed up the wooden porch, I heard a door slam from within the house. No, not within. Below. It sounded suspiciously like the cellar. Carla drew her gun. I can’t believe I did the same.
“My brother is in there,” I reminded her.
“Nothing wrong with playing it safe, Carter.”
I nodded. She was right, of course. I unlocked the front door and we eased inside, our guns held loosely in front of us.
* * *
I motioned for Carla to follow me as we crept toward the kitchen, which was where the door to the cellar was located. We had just crossed the living room, when we heard the back door slam.
Despite myself, I jumped. My instinct was to rush blindly forward. Rushing blindly forward was never smart. I reached behind me and
held Carla back. She and I had to be on the same page. She was, and moving closer to me. She was a good cop, no doubt about it.
We cleared the kitchen, and then headed to the back door. It was unlocked. I went through first, gun held out before me, wondering if my brother and his friend had escaped the cuffs—and if they were waiting for us, knowing that I was thinking crazy thoughts.
I inspected some recently trampled grass. Footprints and tracks were a specialty of mine. There had been two of them. One smaller than the other. A girl and a boy, if I had to guess.
Anna and a friend. Undoubtedly, she had been with that Jared boy.
I scanned the hillside above the house, but it was coming on dusk, and all was dark. The back gate, I saw, was also partially open. Had they heard us coming and run?
Maybe, but it seemed so unlike my daughter. Not only to disobey me...but to run from me.
Maybe she didn’t run, I thought. Maybe she fled. In fear.
Carla was at my side. She immediately deduced the same. I was torn between going after her and checking on my brother. I decided to do both. I pulled out my cell and dialed my daughter while we re-entered the house. No answer. Shit.
Carla was right behind me as I cautiously opened the cellar door. Had my daughter been down into the cellar? Had she seen her uncle? Jesus, was her uncle even still down here?
We descended cautiously. I heard a rustling from below. Damn, the person who had designed this cellar was a lunatic. Why on God’s green earth would they put the light switch at the bottom of the stairs?
I reached back briefly for Carla. She caught my hand and squeezed my fingers. My gesture was small but it spoke volumes: be prepared for anything. Her reassuring squeeze told me that she was.
At the bottom of the stairs, I found the hanging chain and switched on the light—a chain that I was certain had been swaying. A draft? Or had Anna and her friend been down here?
Either way, the flood of yellow illuminated the captives. That I would think of my own flesh and blood as a “captive’ was almost enough to make me weep. What had I become?
My brother and his friend winced at the light, raising their hands like two ghouls from a horror movie. Their eyes were redder. Their skin was pastier. They looked less and less human.
“Oh, my God,” was all Carla could say. Honestly, there wasn’t much more to say. I wanted desperately to go after Anna. But I didn’t quite trust Carla with my brother. What if she shot him? There was no time to waste.
I knew this was a critical moment. Although Carla had wanted to help me, I suspected she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot to kill if threatened—and I didn’t blame her. Still, my foremost thought was for my daughter. Anna would be wild with fear after witnessing this scene just moments ago, if she had been down here.
She was down here, I thought. Which is why she ran.
Carla flinched as I put my hand on her shoulder. I couldn’t afford for her to be trigger happy. “Carla. This is my brother.”
That’s when my close friend finally stated what I could not. “He’s not human, Jack.”
“Maybe not.” I touched her again, and this time she remained calm. I stood by her as she processed the two inconceivable beings in my cellar.
“They’re safe. Contained. I have to find Anna.”
She stood a minute longer, taking in their conditions, calculating. I didn’t have time to wait. “Come with me,” I pleaded. “My daughter. I have to get to her.”
Carla gave one final nod and, still pointing her gun, and backed up the stairs with me.
Chapter Seventeen
Anna ran and ran.
Tears streaked down her face. She raced up the little-known trails through the hills, the brush scratching her face and arms.
She ran as fast as she could until she could run no more. It was a considerable distance. Jared did his best to keep up with her, but even he fell behind. Anna ran because she was terrified, but also because she was angry. How could her father chain Uncle Joey up like that? She ignored his numerous calls on her cell. Her uncle needed a doctor. Anna burst up and around the path with a new rush of anger. Her father was killing her uncle. Anna would call the police if she had to.
She finally ended up in a close-knit grove of scrub oaks. Boulders formed a nice shelter from the elements. No one knew about this place except her and now, Jared. She was thirsty from running and crying. Her hair was tangled, and her shoes were muddy from the recent rain. She didn’t care. All she could think of was what to do about her uncle.
Jared found her sitting with her arms around her knees. He knelt beside her. Jared knew he didn’t need to say anything; with them, sometimes words were not necessary. Still, he wished he’d brought some water, but there hadn’t been any time.
Even with the horror she’d just witnessed, Anna wondered when Jared would take her hand. Whenever they were together, she always waited for him to hold her hand. And every time he did, she felt her stomach flip-flop. She took that as a good sign. Now, more than ever, she needed his comfort.
Jared was getting pretty good at sensing Anna’s needs, and so he moved a little closer and put his arm around her. He took one of her hands as she leaned into him. Jared was surprised to discover that Anna was shaking.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked her gently.
“He’s a monster!”
“We don’t know what happened—”
She spun out of Jared’s embrace and turned on him. “How could he just lock them up and leave them down there! In the dark. Without even water or blankets.”
“Anna...he’s your dad. One of the good guys. Something must have happened—”
“Don’t tell me I’m wrong. I’m not.”
“Baby,” he said softly, trying out a new nickname for her, “I don’t know what’s right or wrong. Your dad’s a good guy. One of the best.”
“Well, he’s got a hell of a way of showing it!”
“Remember what he said about keeping this a secret? Just hours ago, you were visited by some strange men. Dangerous men, I think. I think there’s more going on here than we know. You have to trust your dad. He wouldn’t do anything to purposefully hurt his own brother, or you.”
When she raised her eyes to meet his, Jared’s heart almost broke. She was crying softly. He reached out and took her hands again. They had never let the world get in the way of their closeness, or their rare and wonderful ability to be completely honest about everything. So he prayed she would listen to him now.
He said, “Anna, those men, if they find out where your uncle is, he could be worse off than he is now.”
“I can hardly believe that.”
“It could be a secret government agency. Like in the movies. They can do whatever they want, and nobody will ever find out.”
“Maybe...”
“Your dad could get arrested right now. In fact, he might have been arrested already.”
“No.” She calmed herself a little. “He’s called me a zillion times in the last half hour. If he was arrested, they would only give him one call, right?”
That seemed about right to Jared. He nodded and said, “Then call him back. If he’s calling you like that, he probably knows you were home and saw your uncle. Anna, it’s important that you talk to him and hear him out. Something really weird is going on. Just let him explain. That’s what he wants to do because he has called you so many times.”
Jared came close enough to take her into his arms. Even with the day’s incredible events, Jared couldn’t help but take in the sweet scent of her hair. It gave him strength.
“All right,” she wiped her nose on his shirt—hell, he didn’t even care. “I need to calm down.”
“You need to call your dad.”
She shook her head. “There’s no reception up here. I’ll call my dad when we get to the observatory.”
Her agreement was music to Jared’s ears. Holding hands, they headed up the hill.
Chapter Eighteen
It was early aftern
oon when the Agent in Black slipped into the base’s private medical facility. A doctor greeted him at the isolation room and handed him gloves and a surgical mask.
“He’s handcuffed to the bed,” the doctor stated, “but don’t get too close.”
The Agent in Black donned the mask and gloves. “I want privacy,” he said, his voice slightly muffled.
The doctor nodded uneasily, then unlocked the patient’s door.
The patient was part of the CREW, a scientist assigned to inspecting and researching the mysterious meteor. Dr. David Stetson had been briefed about the rock, but had torn his glove when handling it. He’d shown signs of infection approximately eight hours later. The Agent in Black took in the signs of illness: gray pallor, dehydration, blood-red eyes. Stetson also had bouts of confusion and rage.
He was certainly in no condition to be up and about, nor to even care for himself. The Agent in Black figured that Carter and Mendoza, whose whereabouts were still unknown, were either being cared for somewhere or, more likely, were dead.
He approached the infected man. “Dr. Stetson?”
Stetson didn’t seem to hear him. Instead, he looked off to the side, absently yanking on his restraints.
The Agent in Black tried again. “David Stetson?”
The man looked up, blinked once or twice, then swallowed hard. A hint of recognition crossed over his blood-red eyes. “I guess I’ve done it now.”
“You’re under the best of care, Dr. Stetson,” said the Agent in Black, although, admittedly, no one had any idea what to do with him. The man had refused food and water, and when base doctors had tried IV fluids, Stetson’s condition had worsened so quickly that the IVs had been stopped. Presently, he was on the strongest antibiotics, antifungals, antivirals, anti-everything—but nothing seemed to help.
Stetson’s gaze wandered to his bound wrists. “Take them off,” he pleaded.
“Out of the question, doctor.”
“Take them off and I’ll tell you everything I know.”
His interest piqued, the Agent in Black leaned in a little closer. “How about you tell me what you know, David, and then I’ll see what I can do for you?”