“I’ve said too much already. I need to go. Stay safe, Jericho.”
He takes off before I have a chance to say anything else. I still have so many questions and so few answers.
“Aren’t you going to eat your food?” JoJo points to the remains of my pasta.
“I’m not that hungry anymore.”
“You shouldn’t waste it.”
When I glance at her plate, I see that she’s eaten everything. She’s right. I shouldn’t waste food. I just don’t have the stomach for it right now.
“I’m tired.” She yawns.
“I am too.”
“Let’s go back to our rooms.”
We head over to the return cart and place our trays on the shelves, then head out of the cafeteria. As we make our way down the corridor toward our rooms, I make a mental note of where all the security cameras are located.
“So you play the violin?” I ask.
“I’ve been playing since I was a little kid. My grandfather taught me how to play before he died. He was a jazz violinist. Spent most of his life playing in Kansas City and Chicago.”
“That’s cool.”
“It is, isn’t it? That’s why I took the job with Optimal Mind Institute. I had to get the money to buy my grandfather’s violin back. Before the pawn shop sold it to someone else.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police and file a report? Tell them that the instrument was stolen so that they could recover it?”
She laughs as if my suggestion is completely ridiculous. “The first thing a white girl thinks when she sees a police officer is that he’s there to help her. The first thing a half-black, half–Puerto Rican girl thinks when she sees a cop is ‘please let me not get shot.’ Do you think I’m going into a police station voluntarily? That’s just asking for trouble.”
“Well, we both got more than we bargained for at the Optimal Mind Institute.”
“You’ve got that right.”
“My room’s right here.” She points to a door directly across the hall from mine.
“I’m right here.” I point to my door. “I’d say good night, but there’s nothing very good about this situation, is there?”
“You’re not the worst person to be stuck with in this hellhole.”
I’m glad to see that she is getting back to her old self. The JoJo who hates me a little less than everyone else in the world. “See you tomorrow.”
I’m awakened by a soft knock on my door. When I unlock it and slowly crack it open, I don’t see anyone there.
Was I hearing things? Am I still dreaming?
When I glance down, I notice a small box at my feet. I bend down to pick it up. Someone left animal crackers.
I’m pretty sure that someone was Falcon. I can’t help but smile. My stomach growls just holding the box in my hands.
I close the door and lock it again. Then I plop down on my bed. Just as I’m about open the box, Falcon appears in front of me.
He’s there but not really there.
“Thanks for the cookies.”
“How did you know they were from me?”
I laugh. “Is that a trick question?”
He shakes his head.
Sarcasm seems to be lost on him. “Why don’t you ever enter my room like a normal person?”
“I’m not a normal person anymore.” There’s a touch of sadness in his voice. “And it’s not allowed.”
“But you’re allowed to visit me telepathically or whatever it is that you’re doing?”
It’s hard to believe those words are coming out of my mouth. After eighteen years of being skeptical of the paranormal, it’s difficult to imagine any of this is happening.
“I’m not supposed to have any contact with you, telepathic or otherwise, outside of the program. But I want to. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do that I wasn’t supposed to. I’ve always been a good soldier and followed orders. But I can’t with you.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve learned too much about what’s happening. What they’re doing. What they’re planning to do. And I learned it because of you.”
“I don’t understand. I don’t even know what’s going on.”
“When I connected with you, I was able to see things about your past and the future that you aren’t aware of yet.”
“What things?” I press.
He shakes his head. “They need to unfold when you’re ready to learn them.”
“Tell me. Please.”
“I can’t.”
I can feel anger bubbling up inside of me. Why should he know things about me that I don’t know about myself? It’s not fair. “Maybe you should leave.”
“I don’t want to go.” He sits down on the bed next to me. “You don’t really want me to go either.”
He’s right. I like having him around. Way more than I should. I just wish he was physically here. Not just his spirit body or whatever it is that has manifested in my room.
The warmth he’s generating melts some of the anger away. But not all of it.
“Please don’t be mad.” When his eyes lock with mine, my breath catches.
Okay, it’s hard to stay mad at him even if he is frustrating.
“I received a message from Sergeant Snow. He has a plan. To get you and JoJo out of here.”
“You too.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t go with you. It’s too risky and dangerous.”
“I won’t go without you.” I pull away from him and fold my arms in front of me for emphasis. I want him to realize I’m serious.
“You have to do what Sergeant Snow tells you to do. It’s the best chance you have of getting out of here. If you don’t, they’ll kill you, or you’ll wish you were dead.”
“You obviously don’t know me as well as you think you do. I don’t take orders from anyone. I’m not going to do what Sergeant Snow tells me to do just because you say I should. I don’t even know if I can trust him.”
“Do you trust me?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“This isn’t a joke, Jericho. I’m not playing around. They. Will. Kill. You. And not even think twice about it. They’ll order me or one of the other soldiers in the program to snap your neck in the middle of the night. You’ll never wake up again. They’ll tell your aunts and your friend Gunner that you ran away. They’ll say they have no idea what happened to you. Then they’ll incinerate your body until nothing remains of you but dust.”
“That’s graphic.”
“If they find out who you really are, you’ll be considered an enemy of the state, a threat to our nation’s security. They won’t hesitate to eliminate you.”
“But I’ve never done anything wrong. I never skipped class in high school. I never cheated on a test. I never even went faster than the speed limit on my Vespa.”
“It’s not about what you’ve done. It about who you are. Where you came from.”
“I don’t even know where I came from.”
He places a soft, lingering kiss on my forehead. One that completely takes my breath away.
“You need to go with Sergeant Snow. Before it’s too late.”
“I want you to come with me.”
“I wish I could, but I can’t.”
Before I have a chance to protest further, he vanishes.
Chapter Seven
“Do you keep a supply of animal crackers around here somewhere?” I ask Dr. Palmer.
He furrows his brow. “Animal crackers? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Small boxes of vanilla wafer cookies that are shaped like zoo animals.”
“Why would you ask that?”
I shrug. “No reason. I just like them.”
“The mess hall serves chocolate chip cookies for lunch sometimes. And occasionally oatmeal raisin.”
“It’s not quite the same thing.”
“Are you ready to start?” His impatience is showing through his phony, well-mannered exterior.
Sergeant Snow slipped me a note at breakfast. He said we’d be leaving at lunchtime. I should be ready for anything.
If I’m lucky, this will be my last session. If I’m not so lucky, it won’t matter because I’ll be dead.
If I escape from the military, will that mean I’m a fugitive? I imagine a pack of bloodhounds and men with guns tracking me through dense woods like they do in the movies.
“Jericho.” Dr. Palmer’s voice yanks me back to reality. “Is everything okay?”
“Sure,” I lie.
“Would you like for me to play some music? Maybe that will help to put you into a relaxed state.”
I shake my head. “I’m fine.” Then I close my eyes and take in a few deep breaths. “I’m relaxed.”
“When you’re ready, please tell me what you can about the target.”
“I feel like I’m in a cave. Underground. It’s cool and damp. But there’s lighting. It’s not overhead, though. The lighting is coming from the ground. The pathway is lighted with crystals.”
“Crystals?”
“White quartz crystals.” They’re like the ones my aunts have all over their house. Only these are much larger. And they’re illuminated.
“What else do you see?”
“There’s someone ahead of me.”
“What can you tell me about the target?”
As I get closer, I realize it’s a woman. That’s strange. The other targets have been male.
“She has shoulder-length blonde hair. She looks like she’s in her midthirties, maybe late thirties. She’s dressed in all black.”
I feel like she’s trying to communicate something to me. She’s shouting, but I can’t hear her. I try to read her lips. Go back. Stay away from here.
I don’t recognize her, but she seems very familiar to me. Like I should know who she is, but I don’t.
Then I notice something around her neck. A horseshoe pendant. Just like the one I got from my mom.
“Is there anything else you can tell me about the woman?” he asks.
“She’s petite. Attractive.”
“Anything else?”
She’s still yelling at me. It looks like she’s saying, Go home, or maybe, Get home.
“Is there anything else you can tell me about the location?” Dr. Palmer prods.
“No.”
“What about something more general? Can you zoom out?”
A man comes up behind her. He’s big and scary-looking. Dressed in all black. Raven-dark hair and coal-black eyes. He looks like Nico. A lot like Nico. They could be brothers. Except this man’s face is scarred.
I remember what Colton Clark told me about the guy my mom was dating in high school right before she took off. The biggest guy he had ever seen. Scary as hell. Huge dark eyes. Black as onyx. And scars on his face like he’d gotten into a knife fight.
The guy who is staring at me fits that description to a T.
His gaze is so intense and unwavering it sends a shiver right through my body.
Then, in an instant, everything goes black. I’m surrounded by darkness.
No more moving pictures. No more sensing anything other than the chair I’m seated in and Dr. Palmer looming over me.
“What happened?” he asks when my eyes pop open.
“I think he blocked me,” I mumble before I think to censor myself.
“Who? I thought you saw a woman.”
“There was someone else with her. A man. I’m pretty sure he blocked my viewing.”
Dr. Palmer bites his thumbnail. “What can you tell me about him?”
“Not a lot.” I give him a basic description. Of course, I leave out the part about him most likely being my father.
“We’ve never had one of our viewers get blocked before. Of course, we’ve never gotten so close to any of the most powerful targets either.”
“I need a break.”
He glances at his wristwatch. “It’s almost time for lunch anyway. We can break early. Be back by twelve forty-five?”
“Sure.” My plan is to never come back here again. We’ll see if it actually works out that way.
It’s still early, not quite noon yet, so the mess hall is quiet. I don’t see any signs of JoJo, Sergeant Snow, or Falcon.
I head over to the kitchen area and grab a tray. I don’t have much of an appetite, but I need to grab something to eat; otherwise, it will look suspicious. Why would I be sitting in the cafeteria if I’m not eating anything?
The server eyes me warily, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at me.
“I’ll just grab a sandwich,” I tell him.
He shakes his head. That’s odd.
“I don’t want a sandwich?”
He places a piece of mystery meat on a plate and slathers it with brown gravy. He adds a heaping pile of mashed potatoes on the side and drenches it with the thick gravy as well. Then he hands the plate to me.
It’s not something I would ever eat. It makes me queasy just looking at it. But I place it on my tray anyway. “Thanks. I guess.”
He glances around, presumably to make sure no one is watching us. Then he says very quietly, “Make sure it lands in your lap.”
That takes me by surprise. “Okay.”
“You’ll know when. And get a large soda. No lid.”
Mashed potatoes. Gravy. Sticky soda. All stuff that could make a big mess.
I grab one of the extra-large cups and fill it with cola. Something else I would not consume if I had a choice.
My aunts raised me on natural, healthy foods. For the most part, that’s what I stick with.
As I head over to the tables, I catch sight of JoJo entering the cafeteria. A few soldiers are walking in behind her. One of them is Falcon.
When she glances in my direction, I gesture toward a table on the other side of the room. She gives me a quick nod before she heads toward the kitchen area.
I head over to the table and take a seat. There’s nothing remotely appealing about the meal in front of me, but I grab my fork and play with it anyway.
JoJo joins me a few moments later. She has a similar meal on her tray. Potatoes drowned in gravy. Unidentifiable meat. And a large soft drink.
Unlike me, she takes a bite of her meal.
“Is it any good?” I ask.
She scrunches her nose. “Have you ever seen a dog eat its own poop, vomit up the poop it ate, and then eat the vomit?”
I shake my head, completely disgusted.
She thrusts her fork into the mountain of potatoes on her plate. “I think that dog-poop vomit would taste better than this.”
I’m surprised when Falcon slides into the seat next to me. I was so distracted by the image of dog-poop vomit that I didn’t even sense his presence.
“Ready?” he whispers to me.
“I guess so.” I’m still not sure what’s going to happen other than a lunch landing in my lap.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Sergeant Snow marching toward us. He stops right in front of Falcon and crosses his arms in front of him.
“I thought I told you to stay away from Ms. Jaxon.”
Falcon glares at him. “You did, sir.”
“Then what are you doing at her table?”
“Eating lunch, sir.”
“You’ve disobeyed a direct order.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I suggest you get up now and find another table. As far away from Ms. Jaxon as possible.”
“No, sir.”
“No?” Sergeant Snow’s voice rises an octave. If I didn’t know this was staged, I’d really think he was furious.
“No,” Falcon repeats defiantly.
“You will get up now, or I’ll make you get up.”
Falcon laughs at him. “I’d like to see you try.”
Sergeant Snow moves behind Falcon and attempts to forcibly remove him from the chair.
It doesn’t go well.
Falcon squirms from his grasp and, in the process
, kicks the table hard enough that our trays slide toward us.
All eyes are on Sergeant Snow and Falcon as the two wrestle for control of the situation. Every time they bump into the table, our trays get closer to spilling all over us.
As Sergeant Snow and Falcon continue their scuffle, a jolt of the table is finally enough to push our trays over the edge and onto our laps.
Under normal circumstances, JoJo and I would most likely jump out of the way to avoid getting covered in food. Instead, we both stay planted in our seats and allow the food to spill all over us.
It’s a disgusting mess. The gravy is still warm as it soaks into my pants. I’ve got gobs of mashed potato in my hair. And sticky soda covering my arms.
JoJo hasn’t fared much better. Her shirt is soaked with cola, and she’s got meat and gravy all over her pants.
The two men stare at us, stunned by what they’ve done.
“You’re coming with me.” Sergeant Snow grabs Falcon’s arm. “I expect you to help Ms. Jaxon and Ms. Rodriguez get cleaned up.”
“Yes, sir.”
JoJo and I follow Sergeant Snow and Falcon out of the cafeteria and down a long corridor. It’s one I haven’t been down before. I’m wet and sticky and feel disgusting. I can’t wait to get these clothes off and get cleaned up.
Sergeant Snow pulls Falcon into a room with a sign over it: “Storage.”
Once JoJo and I are inside the room, Sergeant Snow closes and locks the door behind us. The space isn’t very well lit, but it looks like it’s filled with canned goods and other nonperishable food items.
Sergeant Snow removes two changes of clothes that were hidden behind cereal boxes and hands them to me and JoJo.
“There’s a small sink over there.” He points to a utility basin in the corner of the room. “And paper towels. You can toss the dirty clothes in this bag.”
He hands me a heavy-duty plastic garbage bag.
The men turn around so that they are facing the wall and can’t see us while we get changed.
JoJo and I strip off the filthy clothing and toss everything except our shoes into the garbage bag. We wash as well as we can in the small basin.
Then we put on the new clothes. Khaki pants. Matching T-shirts. Fresh socks.
“Ready?” Sergeant Snow asks.
“Yup,” JoJo replies.
The guys turn around. “We need to hurry. We’ve only got a small window of opportunity to get you out of here.”
Alien Hunter Page 12