Terminal

by Kathy Reichs

I tried to sharpen the image, but it remained hazy. The faces kept slipping away, like smoke though my fingers. “Honestly, I’m not sure. He was definitely picturing a girl in a Bolton Prep uniform. After Chance’s hint . . . I thought I recognized Ashley’s face. But now I wonder.”

  Was it really her? Or did I see Ashley’s face because Chance planted the idea?

  Please let that be the case.

  Even a mile from school, the thought of Ashley Bodford’s shark-like smile made me shiver. She’d been playing at friendship for a few months—her and that ditz Courtney, two girls I had zero in common with—but I’d never felt comfortable in her presence.

  Something in her eyes. The lilt of her voice. The way Ashley would talk past me—almost through me—as if she didn’t expect or need my response.

  The whole thing never sat right. Not for an instant. It felt like a prank waiting to happen.

  And if Ashley’s part of the Trinity. If she’s behind these brazen challenges . . .

  “We need to nail this down.” I began pacing the sidewalk, thinking out loud. “But how? Confront her? Corner Ashley somehow, and get her to confess?” One hand came up. “But what if she isn’t part of the Trinity? She’d learn our secret for no reason.”

  “I once read a book on hypnosis.” Hi flared an eyebrow and waggled his fingers. “We could pry open Ashley’s mind. Examine her darkest secrets. Get her to stop being completely awful to everyone all the time.”

  Ben tapped his lip, as if deep in thought. “Do you need another head smack?”

  “Come at me, bro.” Hi bounced on the balls of his feet and beat his chest twice. “I’m ready this time. Can you smell what the Hi is—”

  Hi cut off abruptly, gawking at something over my shoulder as the color drained from his face. Moving woodenly, Hi elbowed Chance, who was standing beside him checking email.

  “Claybourne.” Hi tried not to move his lips. “Gray stone building. Ten o’clock. Who’s that on the roof?”

  Chance’s head snapped up. He squinted, then his eyes rounded. “I see two.”

  “Two what?” Shelton spun like a top. “Virals?”

  “Don’t all look at once!” Chance hissed.

  Too late. Ben and I had also swiveled to see.

  I spotted them immediately—a pair of men in dark clothing, peering down from atop the adjacent building. One held a camera. An instant later they ducked behind a parapet.

  “You see that!?” Shelton’s voice cracked as he backed up a few steps. “Spies! Spies are spying on us! Oh hell!”

  A hand gripped my shoulder. Ben. He pointed up the street, to a black sedan idling at the mouth of an alley two blocks away. As if on cue, xenon lights blazed to life. Tires squealed as the car lurched into the road and swung toward us.

  “Move!” Chance pulled me in the direction of the admin building. “Back to Ben’s car!”

  For once, no one argued. We bolted along a path leading back to the courtyard.

  Behind us, I heard brakes screech, then car doors open and slam shut.

  The surveillance pair getting in? Or riders getting out?

  I had no intention of finding out.

  We bombed across the common and reached Coming Street. Ben clicked the doors and we scrambled into his Explorer. Something was blocking the windshield. I jumped out and snagged it, then fought down a fit of nervous giggles.

  “Parking ticket, Ben!” Tossing it on the floor mat as I slammed home my seat belt. “Told you!”

  “Bill me.” He shifted into drive and stomped the gas. “Hold on.”

  We shot down the block, then swerved left onto Calhoun Street. Speeding east across the peninsula, Ben’s eyes darted to the rearview mirror. Once. Twice. Three times.

  “Anything?” I checked the side mirror. Saw nothing.

  Ben shook his head, still death-gripping the wheel. “I don’t think they followed.”

  Hi’s voice sounded from a tangle of arms and legs in the backseat. “Because we lost them, or because they didn’t try?”

  “How would I know?” Ben snapped.

  “If they were watching us at all.” Chance righted himself and shoved free of Hi’s sweaty limbs. “Those guys might have nothing to do with us.”

  “Oh, right!” Shelton snatched off his glasses, breathing hard. “We find out that shady government types are interrogating folks about you and Tor, and then some other random dudes just happen to be hanging out on a nearby rooftop, snapping selfies. And that town car that came barreling out? What was it doing?”

  “I didn’t say they weren’t spying on us,” Chance growled. “I just said they didn’t have to be. They could be surveyors.”

  “Surveyors who bugged out the moment we spotted them?” Hi gave him an incredulous look. “That seems reasonable to you?”

  “Fine.” Chance jerked the ends of his sleeves back into place. “Whatever.”

  Ben steered onto the James Island Expressway, taking the bridge across the Ashley River and heading toward Folly Road. Traffic thinned. Five sets of eyes monitored our trail.

  No black sedan.

  “Wait.” Chance sat upright. “I don’t live out here.”

  “Call a driver, your majesty.” Ben smirked as he drove on without pause. “This line has only one stop—Morris Island.”

  Chance shook his head, muttering something under his breath.

  Ben’s grin widened.

  • • •

  Ben parked in his usual spot and killed the engine. The sun was setting, painting the western sky in a staggering array of oranges, pinks, and purples. I stumbled out, still shaking off the surge of adrenaline that had accompanied our headlong flight.

  Chance closed the back door, then stood with his arms crossed, a look of annoyance on his face. “Does this place even have an address?”

  Hi yawned and stretched, rotating his arms in wide circles. “Tell them to find where the sidewalk ends, then keep going. We’re the neighborhood at the end of the world.”

  “Helpful.”

  Chance began dialing, but I motioned for him to stop. “We’re all here, so let’s decide what to do next. I can’t be the only one thinking time is short.”

  “We didn’t learn much.” Shelton shirt-wiped his glasses, then popped them back onto his nose. “Ashley Bodford knows Will Speckman, and she might be Viral, but we can’t say for sure. And it’s not like we can just ask her. Also, some creepy suit-wearing dudes may or may not have been following us today. Can’t ask them, neither.”

  “The girl with Speckman goes to Bolton,” Hi pointed out. “That’s something, at least.”

  Ben grunted, but otherwise kept quiet. My eyes found Chance.

  “We have to confront Ashley,” he said. “I see no other way. And maybe finding the Trinity will help unmask whoever else is watching us.”

  I agreed. When you only have one lead, that’s the one you follow.

  Headlights flashed across the parking lot. A second later Kit’s 4Runner appeared, waited for our garage door to rise, and pulled inside.

  “Let’s talk more tonight,” I whispered quickly. “I’ll set up a video chat, and—”

  “Tory?” Kit’s voice floated on the calm evening air. “That you, kiddo?”

  “Yeah.” Ugh. Go inside. “Hey.”

  Footsteps approached. I could make out my father’s skinny frame in the dying light.

  “I just want to give you a heads-up.” Kit nodded toward the boys, then did a double take upon spotting Chance among them. “Claybourne. It’s been a while. Didn’t know you came out this way.”

  “Sir.” Chance extended a hand, which Kit shook. “Just stopping by.”

  “We crossed paths at the library,” I said quickly. “Chance is interested in a book Shelton mentioned, so he hitched a ride out here. His driver is coming to get him, but it might ta
ke a while. Okay if he waits at our place?”

  “His driver. Right.” Kit chuckled. “Not a problem. I’ll have my butler take care of you.”

  Chance feigned a laugh at my father’s lame joke.

  Please, please go inside.

  Kit refocused on me. “I came over to tell you—you’ll need to feed yourself tonight. I’ve got a pile of work to do and Whitney’s at her bridge club.”

  “Okay.” My curiosity got the better of me. “Something wrong?”

  “Too many morons in the world.” Kit’s lips curled into a frown. “Some day-tripping yahoos visited Loggerhead Island this morning and stirred up trouble. Smashed things, made a mess. Now I have to write a dozen incident reports for the environmental commission. As if I don’t have enough to do.”

  Shelton’s eyes narrowed. “Smashed things?”

  Kit nodded tiredly. “They took out the wolf-pack feeders. Painted hooky symbols on a few trees, which got the monkeys all riled. H-troop bolted their territory in the northern woods and won’t go back. You wouldn’t believe the howling.”

  Kit yawned, apparently missing the electric tension that had infused our group.

  “What hooky symbols?” I asked, as casually as possible.

  “Triangles.” Kit snorted in disbelief. “Big black-and-white triangles all over the place, and a red-eyed dog face on one of the feeders. Like these bozos were taunting Whisper’s pack. People can be such idiots.”

  My eyes flicked to Chance. Then Ben. No one needed to say it.

  The Trinity.

  On Loggerhead.

  “Anyway, I’ll be in my office for the next few hours. Whitney won’t be back until late, so eat whatever you can find.”

  “Okay.” Struggling to keep my voice calm. Then a mad impulse. “I may go out for dinner instead, then. I mean, we may. The five of us. That okay?”

  Kit waved as he turned for home. “Fine. Have fun. If it’s pizza, bring me some.”

  He walked into our garage. I waited impatiently for the door to close.

  “Damn it, Tory.” Shelton was already tugging an ear.

  “You heard him.”

  “But why go out there?” he whined. “Just to see more pictures?”

  Hi tapped Shelton on the temple. “Use your head, dummy.”

  “Well, I don’t understand either,” Chance complained. “I’m not going home now?”

  Ben snapped his fingers. “The camping gear.”

  I nodded, impressed. “Exactly.”

  Realization dawned in Shelton’s eyes. “You think Speckman’s still out there. Maybe all of them.”

  “Why else would he need the gear?” My voice sped up as I spoke. “And why hit Loggerhead Island, the one place besides Morris we’re most connected to? A place where we’d definitely hear about their handiwork.”

  “It’s a challenge,” Ben growled. “They want us to come.”

  Chance and Hi muttered their agreement. Even Shelton conceded the point.

  My fists found my hips.

  “I say, game on.”

  Sewee wound through the sandbars surrounding Morris Island.

  Cooper crouched beside me in the bow. The wolfdog didn’t love boats, but I wanted him along. Another set of eyes in the darkness.

  Ben nosed the runabout clear of the shallows and set course for Loggerhead.

  What will we find out there?

  Oddly, I felt calm.

  My hair fluttered in the breeze as we rode the ocean swells. A nearly full moon lit the sky like a paper lantern. A postcard night for poems and soft dreams.

  Shelton and Hi were in the stern, watching for any sign we were being followed. Though Ben was busy piloting, I noticed an occasional glance over his shoulder.

  Yet I was confident.

  The Trinity had made a mistake. These new Virals were too impulsive, too eager to prove something. They’d given away their position. Soon we’d know who they were.

  That would level the playing field.

  And, hopefully, restore order.

  Chance sat across from me, a bemused expression on his face. “You guys do this often?”

  “Do what?”

  He waved a hand. “Spontaneous, dangerous, gut-based midnight treks.”

  “Ah, those.” I scratched behind Coop’s ear. “Yes. Yes we do.”

  Chance snorted. “Must be exhausting. I hope they’re actually out there. I’ve got a meeting in the morning, and would hate to lose a night’s sleep over nothing.”

  That dampened my enthusiasm.

  What if the Trinity weren’t still on Loggerhead?

  Doubts crept in. Upon reflection, borrowed camping equipment wasn’t much to go on. Yet I’d cajoled my friends into a tiny boat speeding out to sea.

  We reached the midway point, where, ever so briefly, land dropped from sight in all directions. That moment always gave me a chill, but it went double tonight. I had a sudden jolt of perspective: how small our vessel was in the wide, wild Atlantic.

  This is necessary. We need to solve the problem.

  But misgivings had taken firm root.

  The Trinity weren’t even our biggest concern. Not anymore. My mind flashed to grim-faced men in dark suits, staring down from above. An unmarked sedan careening over downtown streets.

  Deal with what you can. Table the rest.

  Baby steps.

  So I watched the eastern horizon. Minutes ticked by, then a smear of black separated itself from the shadows. Moonbeams reflecting off the waves provided just enough light to see.

  Beside me, Coop’s ear perked. He began to whine.

  I closed my eyes, listening. Teased out a discordance over the whirring motor.

  Hooting monkeys. Lots of them.

  “The troops are flustered,” I called back to the others. Chance began rubbing his hands together. Ben nodded, then dropped Sewee into a lower gear as we approached shore.

  A thin silver line appeared dead ahead. Chile Beach. Named for its sinuous shape as it ran along the western edge of Loggerhead, its loose white sand stretched back a dozen yards to the island’s dense interior forest. LIRI old-schoolers called it Dead Cat Beach—because of a yowl the surf made as it slid over the rocks—but that night another sound predominated.

  Howling. Loud and outraged.

  Ben steered south, hugging the shoreline as he aimed for Loggerhead’s lone dock—a thin concrete span jutting into the island’s natural harbor. Here, silence reigned. No lights burned.

  Security is tight at the LIRI compound itself, but not at the landing. No cameras. No fences or gates. Loggerhead Island’s isolation—and its absence from most maps—provided the greatest part of its protection.

  Someone found it anyway. And now we’ll find them.

  “No other boats,” Chance noted glumly.

  “The Trinity wouldn’t dock here.” Ben slowed to a crawl as we drifted closer to the pier. “Not if they’re trying to avoid detection. There’s shallow water all around Loggerhead. You can anchor in a dozen places and simply wade ashore. We do it all the time.”

  Hi and Shelton grabbed tie ropes and vaulted onto the dock. After quickly securing bow and stern, they helped haul the wolfdog over the side. Coop hit the ground running, scampering down the pier and into the woods before I could so much as whistle.

  “Where’s the dog going?” Chance whispered, voice edgy.

  “To find his family.” I took the hand Ben offered, and he pulled me up. “Cooper was born out here. He always checks in with his mother’s pack first thing.”

  Chance shook his head. “I thought he was going to help.”

  “He’ll be back. Now let’s get moving.”

  We hustled up a steep rise, then along a beaten-earth trail leading toward the LIRI facility. Shadowy woods closed in around us, swallowing
our group like an inhaled breath. I heard swishing overhead, knew monkeys were shifting through the canopy, tracking our progress and passing warnings to one another.

  Hi halted at the first junction. “I’m no monkey scientist, but the troops definitely seem discombobulated. They’re tweaked.”

  I peered up into the murky branches. “No doubt. Something has them riled.”

  “It’s way too dark in these woods.” Though flat toned, I recognized an undercurrent of excitement in Ben’s voice. I knew what he was asking. And agreed.

  “Light ’em up.”

  SNAP.

  The world spun, then shifted to hyperfocus.

  My brain was bombarded by sensory input. Muscles throbbed and tingled.

  I paused, gathering myself. Slowing my pulse and respiration.

  Then I couldn’t help but smile.

  I could feel my packmates. Closing my eyes, I visualized the lines connecting our minds. Knew the exact location of each.

  Somewhere across the island, I sensed Coop stalking through the brush, intent on surprising his older brother. He paused a beat, then howled in joyous recognition. Coop was always happiest when I unleashed the wolf.

  Ben stood a pace to my left, flexing and unflexing his fingers. Satisfaction billowed from his mind. No one enjoyed flaring more than he did.

  Shelton was pocketing his now-unnecessary glasses. Then he cocked an ear, straining to hear every rustling leaf.

  Behind me, Hi spun in a circle, eyes blazing as he scanned the forest for trouble.

  I could even sense Chance. There was no bond between us, but I could feel his presence. Foreign, almost alien. Yet somehow familiar at core. Like an identical jigsaw puzzle, but with the pieces cut differently and switched all around.

  Opening my golden eyes, I found Chance’s red ones locked onto me. The intensity of his gaze made me shiver. Then he looked away, just missing the scarlet flush that infused my cheeks.

  Some things never change.

  Shaking off jitters, I tested my pack’s connection.

  Hello, boys.

  Yo. Hiram.

  Here. Ben.

  Still not cool. Shelton.

  Sister-friend. Coop, far away.

  I glanced at Chance. Raised an eyebrow.