Chapter 10
They pulled up to a cottage. Rye’s brows furrowed. Dave reached down and tossed Rye a set of keys. “It’s safe. It’s one of our newest acquisitions. Complete with steel doors, insta-bars and a basement with its own tunnel out.”
Bailey asked, “Insta-bars? What the hell is that?”
Dave gave her a tepid grin. “It is a design feature we developed, a one touch operation next to the light switch in every room. Depress it anywhere within the house and bars slide down and lock in place over every window and the exterior doorways. This feature was created to buy the fugitive, or shall we say, the renegades, time to escape.”
Bailey grinned, thinking of their theme song and then it hit her. “We’re considered renegades…”
Rye bent and kissed the top of her auburn curls. “What else would you call us? Those who were taken against our will, experimented on for some kind of machine or country destroyer and locked behind bars where we escaped the detention facilities? Guests?”
“I never put a name on it besides, the lucky ones. We have no idea how many others are still locked away undergoing experiments.” Bailey said, frowning.
Dave replied. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
Rye glared at him from the backseat as he tried to usher Bailey out of the car before the questions came firing like a machine gun.
“Hey, what did he mean by that,” she demanded, as Rye gently pulled her from the car.
“Let’s get inside and we’ll talk more. We don’t want nosy neighbors being able to identify us.” He unlocked the door as they made their way, by any observations, into nothing more than a cozy cottage.
“I thought that guy was your roommate? How does he have access to all these high-tech homes?” Bailey asked, looking puzzled.
“He was my roommate in the sense that I located a place to go while searching for you—and the others. Look, it’s a long story. Let’s explore this place first, and then I’ll explain everything I know. What we don’t know, is how pissed Geoff and the others are going to be when they discover us gone. You, I don’t think they would worry about, but me? They’re going to want to find me and drain the reasons as to why I took you from them. They’ll drain my blood for that.”
“Hey, I go where I want to go. They don’t own me.” Her eyes narrowed in defiance.
“That may be true, but I’m thinking about Geoff and his secret hideaway. He made it abundantly clear he didn’t trust to leave anyone alone in his house while he was away, at least not anyone he didn’t know.”
“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. Yeah, and he wasn’t thrilled with you being there in the first place. He’s bound to be pissed that we left together.”
“You mean because he has the hots for you?”
“Give me a break. He’s just a wild flirt.” She tried to brush it away, but even she knew he was eager to get to know her better. A lot better.
“Yeah—right. You might fool yourself into believing that, but I know better. I’m an alpha male and I can certainly read another alpha male’s intentions, for what they are worth.” He chuckled under his breath. “Let’s find the entrance to the basement. We need to see how to use it if we’re in a hurry.”
They walked through the entryway and into the living room with its cozy rock fireplace and bookshelves stacked with books. He leaned over to the bin of fireplace tools and lifted each one slowly, waiting for a secret to show itself. Nothing happened.
He stood back and looked at the bookshelves. With his enhanced condor sight, he picked out the illuminated letters on several books. His eyes darted from one letter to the next one. R-E-N-E-G-A-D-E-S. On the book with the red ‘S’ lettering on its spine, underneath the title was a publishers emblem that looked very similar to an arrow. He tilted the book out and a hidden latch made a muffled ‘pop’ sound. He pulled on the edge of the case and it swiveled outward, exposing a stairway leading down.
They noticed when they triggered the bookcase to open, it must have also triggered the lights to come on. A dull yellow light filled the opening enough to navigate the stairs, but not much more light than that. The wooden stairs creaked as it bore their weight. Rye walked one step ahead of Bailey and stood sideways, to hold her hand as they traversed the old treads. At the bottom stair, Rye looked out over the small enclosed room littered with old work benches and dusty jars of forgotten home canned vegetables. There was a fine film of dust on the floor.
“It doesn’t look as if anyone was been here in a long time,” Bailey observed.
“You’re right, it doesn’t. Which means there must be more hidden than what we know.”
Rye stepped down to the concrete floor. Bailey followed his lead as he moved through the room, looking for the next trigger to the passageway that would lead them out of the basement. Rye smirked. A book lay flat on a shelf that held old toys. The book’s title was “Alice Down the Rabbit’s Hole.” He could not lift it so he turned it to the side, popping an old oval mirror, mounted on the side wall.
Bailey’s eyes went wide. “It’s like our own fairy tale.”
“Maybe a Grimm’s fairy tale—” Rye smirked.
Crawling through the opening behind the mirror, Bailey caught the edge of her shoes on the stone and stumbled into Rye, pushing him further into the dark musty tunnel. He fumbled along the wall, looking for lights, but couldn’t find a switch.
“Maybe if I pull the mirror closed,” Bailey said, as she reached the back brace of the mirror and sealed them into the darkness. “Oops. I don’t think I should have done that yet.” She grimaced as she tried to shove the mirror open.
“Hmm, I don’t think they would have made this tunnel without a way to see our way in or out. Run your hands around that far side and I’ll check on my side.” The surface was rough and cold. Bailey moved her hand from as high as she could reach, down to the bottom edge where it met the ground. Then she worked her way up once again.
“Any luck?” Bailey asked, over her shoulder.
A sigh echoed in the void as Rye stepped back towards the stairs. His foot hit a bump, a small round dome-topped metal disc. Lights came on at ten-foot intervals, casting a yellow glow along the path.
“Lights!” Bailey shouted, relieved.
“Now, we need to find the way back in. Neither one of us are dressed to be traipsing down this tunnel right now.” Rye turned to explore closer to the stairs and found what he was looking for, a spring-loaded button under the stairway landing. He depressed it and the mirror unlatched.
“Back up we go. Let’s see what they stocked the closets with. I really hope to find something more for exploration instead of party-goers.” Rye moved up the stairs and saw another small pulley next to the wall where they entered the tunnel. It was a small metal ring. He pulled it, but didn’t hear anything ‘pop’. He stepped through the mirror opening and called out, “Hey, look what happened.”
Bailey stepped through to stand next to him and surveyed the small room. As far as she could tell, everything looked the same.
“Okay, I give. What changed?”
“Look at the floor.”
“Yeah, so?”
“You don’t see what I see?”
“Well, I don’t know what you see, but all I see is a dusty floor.” She said, slightly irritated.
“Precisely. A dusty floor. There are no footprints except the ones we just made coming back in from the tunnel. The metal ring I pulled must operate some mechanism in the ceiling that drops dust to cover our tracks.”
“Whoa, that’s insane! I love all these gadgets.”
“When the time comes they might just be enough to save our asses. Come on, let’s see everything else.” Rye reached and grabbed Bailey’s hand as they went upstairs to the living room.
Chapter 11
They discovered two bedrooms, with the closets full of random wear. Mostly jeans and t-shirts, a few jackets, and a floor full of sneakers and boots in various sizes. The chest of drawers also revealed undergarmen
ts, socks, and several scarves.
“I’m going to change. I’ve found jeans I think would fit as well as boots. I’ll take this room,” Bailey called out without turning.
When she grabbed the things out of the closet and turned, Rye was still there with an amused look on his face.
“What?” Bailey asked, her head tilted with question.
“Oh, I don’t know. I thought we might be better in one room. You know, people out on the hunt for us and all.”
“Right—yeah, I think I’m good. You forget, I can turn into a dragon and flame any perpetrators.”
“Trust me, Bailey, I haven’t forgotten. You are mesmerizing in all forms you take.” He smiled enough to light the room.
She sauntered close to where he was standing and leaned her hand on the button next to the light switch, triggering the bars slamming shut over the windows. Rye whirled to see what happened.
“Besides, we have the insta-bars. Now, I just need one installed over my bedroom door,” she teased, lightly pushing Rye towards the door. “See you in a few.”
He grumbled something incoherent as he moved towards the other room, divided by the bathroom between them.
Bailey sighed deeply as she sank into the bed. A feather mattress? She slipped off the first stiletto shoe and let it thud against the hardwood floors, followed by the second. She sprung up to the dresser and grabbed a pair of socks and slid those on as she wiggled out of her skirt. The pair of bleached denim jeans fit fairly well. Even though they looked like they were designed for some skinny dude, at least they were long enough. She grabbed a shirt from some old rock band and threw it on. She laid a jacket out on the bed in case they decided to go exploring. It was chilly in the basement.
After pulling on a pair of sneakers, she fluffed her hair and returned to the living room, snooping around. Rye came up behind her and grabbed her around the waist. She squealed and turned to hammer on his chest. He had a half-smile with glimmering eyes, the kind that made her heart race. She peeled away from him and cleared her throat.
“Are you hungry? I thought I’d see what’s stashed in the kitchen. All I had at the party was alcohol and even that is wearing off,” she said.
“We can’t have that. You search for food, I’ll search for alcohol!” He wiggled his brows at her, suggestively.
Bailey balanced some packages of precut cheese and a bag of mixed fruit she set on the counter top. She searched the drawers for a knife and pulled a couple of plates out of the cupboard. Rye had a bottle in each hand when he met her at the bar.
“Your choice. Tequila or Fireball?”
“What do you think? I’m a dragon so—”
“Fireball it is!” He returned with shot glasses and poured two glasses to the brim. He waited while Bailey filled their plates with sliced apples, pears, and cheddar cheese.
“There is also frozen pizza and stuff in the freezer part, but I thought this would do for now.”
“It’s perfect. Now, come over here. I want to make a toast.”
“A toast, huh? To what?”
“Not, to what, to us. Pick up your shot glass.” He waited until she had hers, then announced, “To the Renegade Shifters!” They clinked their glasses, threw back their heads and drinks. Bailey broke out into song. That was Rye’s cue to pour the next shot. After the third, Bailey decided they needed to find a flashlight and follow the tunnel to see where it ended.
Picking up their jackets and a flashlight from the kitchen drawer, the renegades returned to the living room. They tripped the marked book to open the passageway to the basement. Bailey left the doorway open until Rye reached the lower step, then she closed the doorway.
She joined him as he worked his way to the next book that would trigger the antiqued mirror to ping its latch. Rye looked for the rounded disc at the bottom and depressed it, gaining them light as Bailey pulled the mirror back into place. The mustiness of the tunnel filled their lungs as they took prudent steps across the uneven ground. The surface was a mixture of hard packed earth and rounded river rock, mostly packed into a fairly level pathway. Bailey shivered and slipped on her jacket. They were deep enough that even the distant road noise was smothered.
In Rye’s right hand he carried the flashlight, which gave off more precise lighting than the soft yellow glow of the exposed bulbs dangling overhead. He scanned it from right to left as they made their way down the path. Bailey kept a firm grip on his left hand as they made their way along the tunnel. It widened out about fifteen feet in, making it large enough for several people to traverse side by side. Or, as Bailey figured, a dragon could squeeze through without much effort. The ceiling now stood at least twenty feet above them as they still shuffled along in a downward direction. Faint sounds brushed their ears. A slow dripping of water along the edge of the rocks appeared and made thin rivulets seeping between the rock sides and meandering down the edge of the walls.
Bailey suddenly jerked Rye’s hand back and held her finger to her mouth. She tilted her head, listening. In the distance she heard a shuffling, muffled sound mixed with the occasional thud sounding like a boot heel hitting stone. Rye turned off the flashlight. They hugged against one side of the tunnel out of reach of the dimly lit overhead bulbs. By this time, Rye heard it also. It sounded like a labored shuffle—perhaps some wounded animal?
Bailey held her breath, her heart racing, adrenaline coursing wildly through her veins. She felt the sweat beading up on her forehead, a precursor to shifting. Rye shook his head no, his eyes wide. He hoped Bailey could subdue her instinct to shapeshift, at least until they knew from whence the sound came, and what it was. Suddenly, there was a loud clatter and the tunnel echoed with the sound of a man cursing.
At this moment Rye wished he’d have at least grabbed the poker from the fireplace basket. He had no weapon on him, and really didn’t want to meet whatever was out there without some protection. And he really didn’t want Bailey to be their protection by using her dragon form. They were in a small enclosure and if whoever was down there had a gun, it could end badly. Soon, the shuffling sound returned and was coming directly towards them. They still couldn’t see far enough in the dim light to see who was coming. Another loud bang and a man’s voice yelled out, “Shit!”
That was the last straw. Bailey’s chest expanded as she breathed rapidly. In a flash she filled the space between the walls, and stomped forward with Rye fast behind her. The path made a gentle turn to the right. Bailey came face to face with the stranger and roared, blowing his thin smudge of hair back.
“Son of a bitch!” His scream filled the space around Bailey and the tunnel walls. Rye wedged himself between wall and dragon, shining the flashlight straight ahead to virtually blind the man.
“Dave? Is that you?” Rye asked in a daze.
Dave couldn’t speak. He was paralyzed by the shock of what stood in front of him. He stuttered a breathless, “What the F—?"
“Bailey, see, it’s Dave. No need to charbroil him.” He tried to flash a smile at Dave, then asked, “What are you doing down here? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“Damn it, man. You know the shit I go through. I knew you guys were in hiding and I didn’t know if anyone saw me bring you here. I took the tunnel from the far end to bring up some supplies. There’s only odds and ends in the kitchen, and I knew you’d need some food… You didn’t mention a freaking dragon—”
“Well, now you can add that to your growing list of shapeshifters, Dave. Don’t freak out. It’s Bailey. She won’t char your ass unless you do something to tick her off, which I advise you not do.”
Abruptly, Bailey turned and pounded down the tunnel the way they came. Dave stood still, leg-locked and shaking. His face was pale and his mouth open.
“I think Bailey went on ahead because, well, when she suddenly shifts, her clothing gets shredded to pieces and when she shifts back—”
“Uh, yeah, I follow. Damn it, Rye. A dragon?”
“Yeah, Dave. A dragon. The sa
me dragon that saved my ass and helped me escape. If it weren’t for her, I’d probably be dead by now.”
Dave still hadn’t moved. He just stared straight ahead as he slowly came to grips what he’d seen.
“Here, let me help pick up these spilled groceries and get them into the house. By the way, where does this tunnel come out at?”
He pointed loosely behind him and muttered, “Park. Grate on the storm drain. I have the key. It leads to this tunnel.” His thoughts came out fragmented. “Anyway, at the end of this tunnel before the grate, there’s a hidden key to open it.”
“Okay, let’s get this stuff in the house and pour you a drink. You look like you could use it.” Rye picked up some of the scattered cans. Dave finally was able to move his legs and stooped to retrieve the canvas bag with his shopping supplies.
Chapter 12
Once back in the living room, it was noticed Bailey was absent. Rye and Dave slipped into the kitchen to drop off the groceries. He pulled down another shot glass and filled the first one to the brim. Dave, with shaking hands, took and downed it immediately.
“I’ll leave you with the bottle while I go to check on Bailey.”
Dave poured another shot and nodded.
Rye tapped on Bailey’s door and listened. “Are you decent in there?”
“Yeah. I found some other clothes. Come in.”
Rye slowly opened the door and watched as Bailey tied her boots. She stood up. “Care to explain what the hell all that was about in the tunnels?”
“Sure, I was getting to that. Let’s go grab a shot and discuss it.”
They sauntered out towards the living room. As Bailey glanced towards the living room, Dave darted his eyes to her and then to Rye, as if asking, “She’s not going to shift on me, is she?”
Her eyes narrowed watching Dave. She didn’t know anything about him, but to think he could slip in underneath them was unnerving. She almost wished she had flamed him, yet he looked at her as if she were the problem.
The Renegade Shifters Page 5