by S. S. Segran
Aari ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s think this through. Why would they drive all the way out to Deming, New Mexico—a place that’s pretty much in the middle of nowhere—just to pass through it if their destination wasn’t nearby? I think they were closing in on their final stop not far from here. Their destination must lie either on this road or the other. When was the last time they stopped for gas?”
“Gila Bend, where Gwen refueled as well,” Marshall answered.
Aari looked down at his phone. “Okay, that’s nearly five hours from their last fuel stop, but if they were making good speed, it would have taken them three and a half hours, maybe four to get to Deming. A midsized car like that would run for about six hours on a full tank at the speed they were doing. That would put them within a hundred to a hundred-fifty-mile radius of Deming.”
Kody looked lost. “So?”
“So, that means it’s very likely that they’re not far from here. They would have around two hours’ worth of gas left. Our search grid should be, as I said, within a hundred or a hundred-fifty-mile radius.”
“They wouldn’t have used this road to go past Hatch, then,” Marshall said slowly.
“Don’t think so. The road to Hatch leads to Canam Highway, and Canam actually merges with the highway all of us traveled on. It would be really dumb to use this route when they could have just stayed on the original highway. Their destination can’t be too far from here.”
“Back toward Deming we go, then.” As Marshall turned the car around, he added, “Great deduction, Aari.”
Kody took notice of Aari looking a bit surprised and even pleased by the praise, though he didn’t respond to the Sentry.
Marshall floored it all the way back to the fork and continued on North Gold Avenue this time. Kody, although worried sick about the girls, couldn’t hold back a large and noisy yawn. Aari and Jag yawned shortly after him.
“If you guys need to grab a nap, feel free to do so,” Marshall said. “You’re gonna need your energy.”
“You can probably expect Kody to pass out, but not Aari or me,” Jag said thickly.
“I’m not going to,” Kody grumbled. “I may be tired, but if you think I can sleep with Tegan and Mariah missing, you’re mistaken.” He slouched down in his seat. “I just hope we find them sooner rather than later. If something horrible happens to them, so help me God I’ll make someone pay. We’re family and you never, ever mess with family.”
22
A shrill cry of devastation severed the peace and quiet of the house. “Hugo!”
Hugo Sanchez scrambled upright in his bed as his wife came barreling into their room. He yanked off the blanket and nearly fell in his haste to push away from the mattress. He rushed to hold her. “Julia! What—”
His wife curled his nightshirt into her fists and wept against his chest. She was still in her sleepwear and her hair fell messily around her shoulders. “The crops, Hugo . . . they’re . . . they’re all dead.”
Hugo guided her to the edge of the bed and sat her down. His first instinct had been to hurry outside and take a look for himself, but he knew that he needed to keep Julia calm for the sake of her health. “They’re not really gone?” he asked as he passed her a tissue.
She took it from him, hand shaking. “They are. I—I woke up a few minutes ago, before the alarm was set to go off. Something didn’t feel right, I don’t know what it was. I went outside with the dog and . . . and I saw the crops, completely destroyed. I couldn’t believe it, Hugo, I just couldn’t.” She had wiped her tears away but more still spilled down her cheeks. “The outbreak got us after all.”
Hugo gently rested his hands on either side of her face and leaned over to kiss her forehead, resting his lips against her for a few moments. Julia shut her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself.
“Let me take a look,” he said softly. “Rest, meu amour, catch your breath. I won’t be long.”
She opened her eyes slightly and nodded. Hugo rubbed her shoulders gently before walking out of their room. He grabbed a light jacket as he slipped his sandals on. The couple’s Labrador was curled by the front door and stared up at him with big brown eyes as he approached. Gently shooing her away from the entrance, he pulled the door open and stepped outside.
It was six in the morning and the air was only a little crisp. He could see from afar that the wheat stalks were plainly visible and standing. Julia’s mistaken, he thought as he walked toward the crops. However, as he neared the field, it became clear that his wife was right after all. The stalks may have been untouched, but the heads of the wheat were gone. He quickened his steps and strode along the tramlines in the field. All of the wheat heads—ripe and ready for harvest—were gone. Distraught, he kept walking.
It looked as if the stalks had been cut off right below the heads. Hugo crouched down to see if the heads had fallen but only found fine, yellow-green dust covering the soil by the bottoms of the stems. He picked up a handful and let it fall from between his fingers before standing up. What kind of an ungodly infection could cause such destruction? He slowly turned around, taking in all of his lost crops, before continuing down the tramline in a daze.
His feet carried him mechanically through the field. He extended his arms, letting them brush each and every stalk that he passed. He didn’t look left or right and watched, uncomprehendingly, as the rising sun cast its golden tint onto the land below, illuminating the ruined wheat field with a surreal glow. It was both strangely beautiful and appallingly devastating.
The sun doesn’t care that whatever its rays touch have been ruined, Hugo thought as he fought against the mounting lump in his throat. This can’t be really happening. Our crops cannot all be gone.
He carried on with his arms reaching out, gently bending the stems and letting them bounce back upright once he’d passed. His hopes of seeing even one stalk of wheat that still carried its head were cut down soon enough. There was nothing salvageable.
He combed his fingers through his gray hair as he came to a stop. What were he and Julia supposed to do now? More importantly, how was he going to comfort his wife? She was particularly sensitive to stress and did not respond well to anxiety. He needed to be strong for her above everything else. He needed to show her that they would be able to pull through this dreadful situation.
When he returned to the house, he headed straight for the kitchen where Julia was making breakfast for the two of them. He could tell that she was doing everything in her power to distract herself but there was tautness in her face, showing that she could not push her fretfulness aside.
She heard him enter and turned around to look at him. Hugo did what he could to put on a smile for her, but she saw right through him and found the shattered man behind the futile mask. Tears spilled anew from her eyes and she leaned back against the counter, hiding her face from him. Her body lurched violently with what Hugo thought were sobs, but he realized in terror that she was actually gasping deeply for breath. Her hands slid down to her chest and she pierced his gaze with a frightened stare before collapsing onto the floor. Her wheezes and her weeping sounded like a haunting call to Hugo’s ears.
He ran to her and with some effort lifted her into his arms. Her body kept heaving painfully against him as he laid her down on the couch and hurriedly picked up a phone to dial 911. Once he’d completed the call, he sat on the coffee table in front of the couch and took one of Julia’s hands. She didn’t notice him, lost as she was in her world of torment.
“Help will be here soon, Julia, just hold on,” Hugo whispered. He felt the moistness in his eyes forming wet streaks down his face as he watched his wife wheeze in agony. “Hold on . . . please just hold on.”
23
A groan made Tegan look up from her efforts to remove the bindings from her wrists. Her eyes, which had long since adjusted to the darkness, caught sight of Mariah turning over. Tegan scooted over and gently prodded her friend with her knee. “Hey,” she said.
“Teegs?” M
ariah sounded drowsy.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. Some guys jumped us, and the next thing I know, I woke up in here. It’s like some kind of storage room.”
“How can you see anything?”
“Your eyes will get used to it. But listen, you’re not going to believe who’s involved in all of this.”
Mariah was wriggling into a sitting position, not seeming to have heard Tegan’s words. “Ugh, my arms are sore . . . Oh, great, I’m tied up. That’s why.”
“’Riah. There’s someone here who’s behind our abduction.”
“Who?”
Tegan had to force the name out. “Tony.”
“Right. Sure.”
“I’m not joking. I heard him. He was on the phone talking to someone and I heard his voice. And I saw his shoes and striped socks. That’s pretty much signature Tony.”
“Anyone can wear striped socks, Teegs. I don’t know who you saw, but it can’t be him. Tony’s a really sweet guy. He drove out all the way to meet us when we needed him. He went after the guy who threw the smoke bomb into our car. Whoever you saw, it wasn’t Tony.”
At that moment, they heard the sound of the door buzzing quietly and opening. Brightness flooded the room as an overhead light came on. Tegan and Mariah looked away, shielding their faces from the intense glare.
“Oh, good, you’re both awake.”
Mariah met Tegan’s eyes and Tegan saw a look of horror darken her friend’s features. Slowly, they turned to the source of the voice.
Tony stood at the entrance, sliding a keycard into the back pocket of his pants. As usual, he was smartly-dressed, his hair was immaculate and his face carried a certain rascally charm.
“Tony . . . ” Mariah said weakly.
“Hello again.” He smiled a little. “How are you doing?”
“What's going on?” Tegan asked, ignoring his question.
“Ah, yeah . . . Apparently, you guys have piqued the interest of my employer. The boss seems to think that the five of you are—how do you say—significant, in a way that I definitely don’t understand. Got a few questions for you, you see.”
“What questions?”
Tony shrugged. “Beats me. But”—he shut the door behind him and, to the girls’ surprise, sat on a chair he’d dragged in, legs crossed—“if the boss wishes something, then I will make it so. And here you are. Pity my men couldn’t get the others, though.”
Tegan’s back straightened. “You mean the guys escaped?”
Tony studied her with an intensity that unnerved her. “We’re going to get them back, not to worry.”
“I still don’t understand what’s going on,” Mariah cut in. “Why are we wanted? Were you just playing us the entire time, with that story of taking time off work to see your girlfriend? Were you actually following us?”
Tony turned to her with an almost pitying look. “It was my assignment to meet you and get to know you. I take orders and follow through with them. What the boss wants, I deliver. There’s always a good reason for it. But I do like you guys—you’re bright and funny.”
“Then what are you doing?” Tegan asked. It didn’t matter what he said, she felt betrayed. He’d seemed genuine. He’d given her hope that not every stranger was someone to be wary of.
“As I said, it’s just my job.” Tony lightly ran his thumb under his chin. “Strange, though, that the boss would take such interest in you five. Stranger even that the boss may decide to question you personally.”
Mariah glowered at him. “We’re not talking to anyone. We were kidnapped. That’s a serious crime. If anything, we ought to be questioning your boss.”
Again, Tony smiled. “You’re spunky, aren’t you?”
Mariah’s anger remained plastered on her face.
“You cannot begin to fathom what’s at play,” he said. “It’s huge. It’s going to fundamentally transform the entire world. It may take a few more years before the last piece is put into place, but it’ll be worth it. It’ll be nothing short of astounding.”
Tegan leaned away from him. “I don’t know what it is, but you sound calmly fanatical about it.”
“If the boss permits, maybe you’ll discover what the final outcome of this vision will be. Then maybe you’ll understand why so many are heavily invested into this organization.” As he picked some lint off his shirt, Tony continued, almost as if to himself, “But this is very unorthodox. Even the people high up in this organization have never seen the boss in person, and yet you soon may.”
The girls watched, stone-faced, as he got up and took out his keycard. “I don’t know when exactly we’ll pull you out for the interrogation. When the men come to retrieve you, don’t fight them. You’ll only give them reason to hurt you, trust me.”
He exited the room, then closed and locked the door behind him. The girls didn’t move after he left, and remained still even as the lights went off in the chamber, submerging them in darkness once again.
* * *
Tony drove slowly through the cavern where the storage room was located and into a concealed underground tunnel, being careful to avoid the dirt-stained vehicles driving into the cave as he exited. The tunnel was lit by bright LED lights to allow the drivers to see their way over the packed dirt roadways.
The SUV rolled out into broad daylight onto a makeshift road that was part of a restricted area of the mine site. He rounded a huge waste rock dump to leave the zone and was nearly flattened by the thirteen-foot tall tire of a four-hundred-ton mining truck.
“Moron!” Tony yelled, then got an unsavory amount of dust whooshing through his open windows which he hastily wound up. He glared at the monstrous vehicle as it lumbered past and bitterly thought, I’ve been here for a few hours and I’ve already developed a hate for mining sites.
Why the boss had wanted the five brought to the company’s copper mining facility in New Mexico was not his concern, but it irritated him how loud and raucous the place was, not to mention dirty. The workers were hardly any better, with their shouting and general unkemptness.
He refused to look anywhere but forward as he made his way to the main office complex. Once in the parking lot, he braced himself and opened the car door. A blast of hot air and diesel fumes assaulted him. The rumbling of rock crushers sounded in the distance of the open pit mine.
Tony quickly dodged into the slightly cooler office building and went straight to the receptionist behind the counter. “I’d like to speak with Mr. Ajajdif, please.”
“He’s at the main security post checking up on things,” the woman said nasally, not looking up from her work.
Tony pulled a face. “Of course he is. Thanks.”
The woman didn’t respond as he headed back into the heat. Getting into his vehicle, he wound down his windows again and pulled out of the lot.
Just when he thought nothing could annoy him further, he found himself stuck behind a large truck that was spraying water to keep the dust down on the dirt road. Tony made an obscene gesture toward the driver of the tanker even though the man would not be able to see him. Oh, yes, thank you. Muddying up this place makes things a whole lot better, doesn’t it? I need to get out of here.
Five minutes later, he made a left turn to the main security post. He saw two men outside; one was medium-built and auburn-haired, and the other was a giant who had his back to Tony. The giant was holding a cigarette between his fingers.
When Tony parked beside them and got out, the men looked over. “Well, well,” said the Lebanese-born hulk, sneering, “if it isn’t Tony Cross, the tiger who failed to capture five kids. I’d say you’re more of a kitten, truth be told.”
Tony’s lip curled back as he looked up at the towering man. “How’s the weather up there, Elias? Getting enough oxygen for that tiny brain of yours?”
Elias Hajjar’s lips twisted downward.
Tony masked his satisfaction. “If the boss is right, those kids were in
league with the group that gave you that disgusting injury. It improves your looks, truth be told.” He mimicked the big man’s voice.
Hajjar, the nearly seven-foot-tall head of security for the mining site, looked as if he wanted to squash Tony under his boot. Instead, he blew a thick cloud of smoke into the young man’s face. He was a heavily tattooed ex-mercenary with black holes for eyes and tree trunks for limbs. Tony appeared tiny and malnourished by comparison. Hajjar’s face had been severely disfigured in a horrible accident the year before when a large shard of glass had fallen onto his face. There was an untidy, jagged scar that extended from his forehead down to his chin. He was partially blind in one eye but was doing remarkably well—well enough to be reassigned as the head of security for Quest Mining, a division of Phoenix Corporation.
He’d had to go through intensive surgeries just to regain the semblance of a human face. It was a miracle that the man was even alive. Or a shame, as Tony saw it.
Tony held his breath until the smoke abated, then muttered, “Classy.”
“What is it you’re here for, Tony?” Vladimir Ajajdif asked. For some reason, the hint of a heavy Russian accent struck Tony as funny but he didn’t dare show it. He knew, as many did, that Ajajdif was one of the very few people who had actually seen the boss—indeed, Ajajdif claimed that the boss had personally saved him from a life on the streets of San Francisco nearly two decades ago.
Sliding his fists into his pockets, Tony said, “I have an assignment to complete because the men I hired were unable to do so.” He heard Hajjar snicker but continued, “I’ve got the girls safely locked away in the storehouse underground.”
Ajajdif looked toward the direction of the tunnel, which was hidden by a huge pit at the center of the site with tall mounds around it. While the mining activity was legitimate, it was merely a cover for the massive project that was being worked on beneath their feet.
“I might be tempted to check on these girls myself,” Ajajdif said. “See if they’re actually the ones who took part in wrecking my operations last year.”