The Dark of Other Skies (The Others Book 2)
Page 12
“I imagine so. I’m hoping one of my credentials will get us through.” Mark held up a fan of ID cards. He placed them in the cup holder between the front seats before backing out of the parking space. “After all, I’m officially required to keep tabs on Myron. I intend to use that information to its full advantage. As far as I know”—he flashed a quick smile—“Myron hasn’t returned from a day trip and my agents were sidetracked. So now I must try to hunt him down. Don’t know if that’ll work, but it’s worth a try.”
“And if it doesn’t work? What then?” Karen leaned back in her seat and stared out the side window. The streets were eerily empty.
“Still thinking.”
Karen closed her eyes. Concentrate, Douglas had said. But on what? She could only imagine Douglas meant Alex, who undoubtedly could read her mind, at least in some fashion.
I’m in trouble, she thought, then laughed to herself at the absurdity of employing telepathy. That was a skill she only possessed in her dreams.
“So what exactly did Douglas think you could do?” Mark asked.
Karen’s eyes flew open. “Are you reading my mind?”
“No. Not one of my talents, I’m afraid. But what you said, about the Oneiroi’s skills—you meant something to do with Alex, of course.”
“Don’t worry about not possessing telepathy, my dear. You do quite well without it. Yes, I meant Alex. He spent ten years with their technology, accessing their accumulated knowledge. I assume he learned a few of their tricks. Knowing Alex, that’s the first thing he’d do.”
“No doubt.” Mark glanced in the rearview mirror. “Already being followed. So predictable.”
Karen turned and looked out the back window. There were no vehicles to be seen, except for the car following them. “Yes. Rather obvious since no one else is on the road.”
“I don’t suppose they care about being obvious at this point. So, getting back to Alex, what new skills has he acquired? Anything I should know?”
“I’d have told you before, but with you dashing off like that and the business with Alice and Douglas …”
Mark shot her a quick glance. “No need to be defensive. I don’t actually expect you to tell me every detail of your interactions with Alex.”
“I do tell you. I mean, I always will, eventually.” Karen fanned her face with her hand, cursing the heat that had risen in her face. She and Mark had always been honest with one another, and any hint that she’d kept something from him made her feel guilty. “I realized at breakfast yesterday Alex must have mastered some form of telepathy. What else he can do, I don’t know.”
“Oh, yesterday, you say? At breakfast?” Mark spun the steering wheel hard to the right, heading the car down a side street.
Karen peeled her braced hand from the door. “That doesn’t sound exactly like understanding.”
“I’m just absorbing the ‘eventually’ part. Now, please continue. Alex revealed he can read minds? At least yours? Suppose that could be seen as a handy skill, though I’m not sure how it might help us now.”
“Neither am I.” Karen glanced behind them. “Still following.”
“Didn’t think I could shake them. But now they know I realize they’re back there.” Mark made a sharp left turn. “Well, my love, I’d suggest you take Douglas’s advice and attempt to reach Alex. What he can do for us, I don’t know. But I’m not going to be picky about any form of assistance at this point.”
“All right, I’ll try.” Karen sat back and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and focused her mind on a single thought. Alex, we need your help.
She heard nothing for some time, except for the steady hum of the engine and the sound of car wheels turning sharply right and left as Mark maneuvered their vehicle through the town. Then a series of thoughts flashed into her mind. They felt alien, as if someone had inserted them into her brain.
“Mark, something just popped into my head. A message, I think.”
“From Alex?”
“Maybe. Probably. Anyway, here’s the idea—Vance won’t want me harmed and also doesn’t want the government to have me. He’d rather his own people take me. That’s who’s following our car. Ask the guards at the barricades to call the Exocorp liaison—there must be one on site—and get their authorization to let us go. They’ll give that order and assume they can overtake our car outside town.”
Mark glanced at Karen with concern. “And if they do?”
“They won’t, will they, with you at the wheel?”
“I’m not superhuman, but it’s worth a try.” After a few minutes of silence, he added, “Not sure I like this development.”
“I’m not planning to hold long conversations with Alex in my head if that’s what you’re worried about. It gives me a headache, to tell you the truth. And it just feels… wrong somehow.”
“Does it?” Mark laid his right hand over her left arm. “I thought … Oh, never mind. We’re approaching one of the checkpoints. Is that car still following?”
“Yes. Farther back but still there.”
“All right. Here we go.”
A rough piece of lumber balanced between two sawhorses was placed across the median markings, and two police cars with lights flashing were parked on either side of the road. As Mark slowed the car to a stop three men in National Guard uniforms approached the driver’s side. Mark rolled down the window and reached into the cup holder, feeling around for one of the cards.
“You need to turn around, sir,” said one of the men, who looked far too young to be in any position of authority.
“I’m in pursuit of a fugitive.” Mark handed over one of his ID cards. The young guardsman peered at it for a moment, then pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket and shone it into the car window.
“Both of you? Who’s this, then?”
“My wife.” Mark’s voice was perfectly steady. “She was traveling with me. I didn’t want her caught up in my business, but you know how it is, things happen.”
“And she has ID too, I suppose?”
Karen blinked as the guardsman focused the light on her face.
“Of course.” Mark casually reached up and pushed the flashlight toward the man’s chest. “Now, as you can see from my credentials, I do have authority to travel wherever I wish, despite quarantines and the like.”
“Yes, sir, you do.” The guardsman turned off the flashlight and pocketed it. “But your wife does not. I’m afraid she’ll have to stay with us.”
“That isn’t going to happen. Why don’t you call headquarters and ask your superiors to speak to the Exocorp representative who must be hunkered down there. Ask them for clearance for Karen Foster Hallam. See what they have to say.”
“I’m not sure I’m authorized…”
“No, but I am. Do you want me to call my superiors?”
The guardsman hesitated, examining Mark’s implacable face. He glanced back at his fellow soldiers. “Give me a minute.”
Karen turned in her seat. “That car’s idling some ways behind us.”
“Yes, I’m sure it is. Listen, when we get clearance, and I think we will, you need to prepare yourself for a rather rough ride.”
“You mean worse than before? Oh, wonderful.”
Mark grinned. “One of the perils of being married to me.”
“Well, at least I’ve faith you’ll get us out of here. Maybe a bit battered but still in one piece.”
“I’ll try my best.”
The young guardsman returned. His face was a study in contrition. “Sorry, Mr. Hallam. You’re both free to go. I hope you understand I was only following orders.”
“Of course,” Mark said. “Now, I’ll wish you a good day. Or night, as you’re probably stuck here all evening.”
“Yes, sir.” The young man backed away from the car and raised his hand is if to salute, but Mark waved him off and started up the car.
“Someday you’re really going to have to explain your position in the government to me,” Karen sai
d.
“Difficult to do.” Mark maneuvered the car around the barricades. “It changes depending on the circumstances. Now, brace yourself, sweetheart. I’m going to try to lose our tail.” He floored the gas pedal.
Karen spent the next thirty minutes with her eyes closed and her fingers wrapped tightly about the locked door handle. “They’re still following?” She squeezed the words out from between her teeth.
“Unfortunately.”
Karen opened one eye and looked at Mark. His attention was fixed on the road, which, considering their speed, was for the best. She opened her other eye and turned her head slightly. Two bright lights cut through the darkness behind them. “Damn. They must’ve received training similar to yours.”
“I doubt it. They’re just desperate. Probably afraid Vance will have their heads if they fail.”
“Why the hell does he want me so bad?” The lights bobbed, closer than before. “He has others who can communicate with the Oneiroi.”
“Yes, but not others he can leverage to control Alex.”
Karen turned to stare at Mark’s profile. He appeared calm, but his jaw was clenched. “Is that what’s been worrying you recently? That Vance would kidnap me as leverage?”
“He’s left you alone for many years, with only a few attempts to lure you back to the Morpheus Project. But Alex knows too much and has acquired some dangerous skills. Vance must realize the renegade Oneiroi only returned Alex because they wanted his assistance in thwarting Exocorp. Vance is panicking, as well he should. With the assistance of Alice and her cohorts, Alex won’t be easy for Vance to control.”
“Without me as a bargaining chip.”
“Exactly.” Mark glanced into the rearview mirror. “If we’re overtaken, reach into the glove compartment as soon as I slow down.”
“What’s in the glove compartment?” Karen closed her eyes for a moment. “A gun, I suppose.”
“Yes. Always a last resort for me, I promise. But I’m not going to let them take you, if there’s any way I can prevent it.”
“They undoubtedly have guns as well.”
“Undoubtedly. But I’m not such a bad shot, when all’s said and done.” Mark flashed a brief, humorless smile.
“But there are two of them, at least.”
“That doesn’t necessarily give them the advantage. Now, what’s this? Are they flashing their high beams?”
Karen turned to look out the rear window. “No, I don’t think so. It’s too bright, and just one light source.” The speed of their car changed. “Are you slowing down?”
“I’m not doing anything.” The headlamps and dashboard lights flickered. Mark swore and gripped the wheel to control their trajectory as the engine died. “What the hell is that?”
Karen burst out laughing.
Mark maneuvered the car to the edge of the road and turned to stare at her. “Have you lost your mind?”
“No,” she said, breathing deeply. “Look. It’s a UFO.”
Mark turned. Brilliant light flooded the car and illuminated his astonished face.
“It’s hovering between us and them. I think it’s stopped them dead as well.” The light moved away, gliding closer to the other vehicle. Karen jumped as the lights on their car’s dashboard flared back to life.
“Well, that’s unexpected.” Mark grabbed the steering wheel as the engine revved. “It seems we’ve been provided a distraction. I wonder if Alice was involved in this. It wouldn’t surprise me.” He pulled the car back onto the road.
“Distraction?” Karen giggled uncontrollably as Mark drove down the road. As her laughter disintegrated into silent shaking, Mark cast concerned glances her way.
The beam of light faded, then vanished from view as they rounded a curve. After several more miles Mark slowed the car to a stop and pulled over. He took Karen in his arms. “It’s going to be all right now,” he whispered in her ear. “I think we’ve lost them.”
Karen sobbed into his shoulder for a few minutes before speaking. “Guns.” Her voice shook. “And UFOs, and Alex, and everything …”
“I know.” Mark stroked her hair. “But it’s over for now. And I’m here.”
“Thank God.” Karen choked back a final hiccup. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I think you’d manage just fine, but I don’t intend to let you find out.” Mark kissed her gently before releasing her. “Let’s rendezvous with Myron and the rest of our merry band. Come to think of it, now that our pursuers are unlikely to trace our calls, perhaps you should give Myron a ring. Our friends are probably anxious to know we got out safely.”
“Why do I suspect Ariel already knows?” Karen rummaged through her purse for her phone. “And Alex too, for that matter.”
“Probably. But they’ll still be relieved to hear from you.”
Karen pressed the key that dialed Myron’s number. “I never thought about my value to Vance in terms of Alex. I wonder if Alex has considered it.”
“I imagine so. I thought of it some time ago, and I’m not vain enough to think I can outsmart Alex Wythe.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. You constantly surprise me. And he has his weaknesses, just like everyone else.”
Mark smiled as Karen laid her hand on his knee. “Yes, but his major weakness is you. Tell Myron we’ll see everyone soon. I think I might push the speed limit a bit, since we’re out in the middle of nowhere.”
Karen then had to explain to Myron why she was swearing when he answered his phone.
Dream Journal, June 15th:
I stood over the sink in my home studio, rinsing cerulean paint from a natural-bristle brush. The diluted paint splashed into the sink, but as the water circled the drain it took on a rusty hue. I looked at my hands. They were covered in blood. I scrubbed furiously to remove all traces of red from my fingers, then lifted my hands and examined them carefully. I saw no marks of any kind, except for the old scars that etched the inside of my wrists.
“Why so much blood?” I asked, sensing a presence behind me. “Whose is it?”
“No one yet,” said a familiar voice. “This is a premonition.”
I turned to face the speaker and raised my dripping hands. “Alice, what does it mean?”
She regarded me with her alien eyes. “The time is coming when differences of opinion will become disputes, and disputes will flare into battles. It is best to be prepared for such an eventuality.”
I blotted my damp hands against my paint-streaked jeans. “Whose differences? Ours with Vance and Exocorp, or yours with others of your kind?”
“Both, I am afraid. We are now linked inexorably together. The Oneiroi, as you call us, are choosing sides. Our fragile bridges have collapsed under the pressure of recent actions.”
“You mean the epidemic at Dulce?” I considered altering the dreamscape to a more neutral location, but my studio was too comforting to erase.
“Yes. Many humans died. And for no reason except to protect Exocorp and its backers. There was no scientific value to this action. No knowledge was gained. It only benefitted Ian Vance and his supporters. This is not acceptable to many of my people.” Alice stared at the painting on my easel. “You have seen much.”
I examined the canvas. It showed a scene of great devastation—a forest stripped and flattened to the ground, with the carcasses of birds and animals piled against the corpses of trees.
“This isn’t my work.” I crossed to the easel and touched the canvas. When I drew back my hand, the tips of my fingers were soaked with blood.
“It is not your creation,” Alice said. “Merely what is foreseen.”
I grabbed a rag from an adjacent worktable and methodically wiped my fingers. “But I don’t possess such abilities. I leave that to people like Ariel Tarrow.”
“Who is tied to you,” Alice said, “in some fashion. You are drawing what she sees.”
“I hope not. She’s only a child.”
Alice closed her eyes for a moment. “She se
es this in her nightmares. Fortunately, she does not remember these dreams. Not yet.”
I shook my head. “It’s inevitable that many must die? My people and yours?”
“No, nothing is inevitable. Every action branches onto another path. But without significant change, current actions may swiftly lead us toward destruction.” Alice held out her hand. “You must not falter. Whatever the price. You must not allow your fears to rule you.”
“My fears?” I grasped her hand. The studio disappeared. We stood on a hilltop, overlooking a city. At least I assumed so, although it looked like no place I’d ever seen on Earth.
“Your concern that you cannot love enough. Your fear one form of love will destroy another.”
“Are you speaking of Alex Wythe? I do still love him, just not the way he desires.”
A light ascended from the city into the midnight-blue of the sky, like a falling star returning home.
“His desires are of no consequence. You must love him the way he needs. Do not abandon him. He is vital to both our futures.”
I slid my fingers from Alice’s loosened grip. “I don’t plan to abandon Alex. I will remain his friend, if I can. But I won’t sacrifice my own happiness for his. I did that before. I won’t do it again.”
A smile flitted across Alice’s pale face. “To see you so changed is to know change is possible. I find hope in this. No, you should not give over your entire life to Alex Wythe, no matter what he desires. Your life is your own, no one should lay claim to it. But I believe there is much you can give, Karen, without losing anything of yourself, or betraying anyone else. Your human love, it is meant to be shared, is it not?”
“It is.” I contemplated the strange scene before me. “You’re obviously deeply concerned for Alex’s welfare, Alice. Does he mean so much to the Oneiroi?”
“No more than you, Karen Foster Hallam. No more than your husband and your friends. You are all part of something that holds promise for both our societies.”
“But what should we do?” I asked, as Alice flickered and faded before my eyes. “We’ll try our best, but what can we really do?”