"What’s this got to do with geese?" Erin asked.
Rowan ran his fingers over his face, sighing.
Angie watched Tavi. In one day, she’s lost her boyfriend, her soldiers, and now we’re bailing on her only hope.
"I’ve changed my mind. We should look. But in the morning, when the sun's up."
"Angie’s right," said Erin. "Let's take a quick look in the morning. If nothing else, maybe there's something we can salvage."
Rowan frowned but shrugged. "Doubt it, but we'll do a quick once over, and then we need to get going. There were another two platoons of Norties following us. We gave ‘em the slip, but maybe they’ll turn around and come back."
"Thank you," Tavi said to Angie.
They laid out their blankets. Rowan insisted that only he or his siblings would take sentry watches, stating that if the chupacabras did come back, he’d feel better knowing someone who could see in the dark was on duty. Angie didn't object. She was bone tired after the last few days. She lay down on a bed she had made of broken pine branches, pulling her blanket over her head, and was fast asleep in moments.
Thankfully, there were no nightmares.
When dawn came, they ate a cold breakfast around a smoldering fire and then spread out, sweeping through the ruins. Angie cautiously entered one of the old buildings, the concrete shell of what had once been an office but was now filled with rubble and garbage, the ceiling having long ago fallen in. She couldn’t make her way more than a few steps, but it was enough to confirm there was nothing inside of interest. She climbed back out and then searched another building, finding it much the same.
Rowan was right, she soon realized. This place was picked clean decades ago. Despite Elenaril’s suspicions, there was nothing here. She saw the others doing the same thing as her: entering and just as quickly exiting the broken shells of buildings. Tavi looked distraught, as if her world was falling apart, and maybe it was.
Angie tried her life-sense magic again, hoping something—anything—might help, but other than Tavi and the Seagraves, she detected only small rodents and birds. "This is pointless," she said to herself. "I’ll never find it."
FIND WHAT, SOURCE MAGE? The Other’s voice rumbled in her head.
"Jesus!" she exclaimed, holding her hands against her ears.
It had communicated with her before, but never so loudly as if it didn’t know how to speak. Shades—normal shades—didn’t communicate at all, in any way. This one did whenever it felt like it, or whenever it could. She had no idea. Ephix had claimed it was a shade but vastly more powerful than others, unique. Perhaps it was only capable of speech. She had never really tried to speak with it before. In truth, it scared her.
"What have you got to lose?" she asked herself.
She exhaled, her heart pounding, and willed herself to be brave. She closed her eyes and voiced a thought, willing it to the entity she shared her body with: What … what are you?
This time, it didn't speak. Instead, she saw a series of images flash before her: a desert storm with sands blowing so hard they blocked the sun, tornadoes of flame cascading and veering across a rocky landscape in an intricate dance, and the sand-swept ruins of an ancient civilization with massive statues of a vaguely humanoid race but with lionlike features. Sand gusted about, slowly burying the statues and ruins. Soon, only windswept feline heads were visible. And then the sand covered those as well. Loss and sorrow washed through her, leaving her shivering.
What kind of answer is that? I get it. You’re old, but what are you?
LOST, ALONG WITH MOST OF MY KIND. MANY ARE NOW LOST TO THEMSELVES, EXISTING IN THE HALF-LIFE YOU CALL SHADES. THEY HAVE FORGOTTEN, BUT I REMEMBER. I WHO WAS AS A KING TO THEM. A SHADE KING.
She felt its mirth, as if it were amused by the notion of kingship. She frowned, half wishing she hadn’t tried to communicate. And what is a Shade King?
No reply, only the wind whistling through the pine trees atop the summit.
Okay. Be like that. You asked what I was looking for. I seek a base, a secret base. Somewhere here … maybe. Can you help?
And then, so quick that she thought she might have imagined it, a cloud of sparks appeared in the air around an old storage shed standing a hundred meters away amidst the pine trees. This shed, rusted and falling apart, was so small she had barely noticed it before.
That? You want me to search that?
The Other—no, the Shade King—was silent once more, so she approached the shed, her nerves tingling.
A flaking painted sign proclaimed the shed to be the AUXILIARY GENERATOR FOR DOME 6. As Angie approached, she saw the door was long gone, leaving the interior exposed to the elements. A rusted-out generator the size of a fridge sat in the center of the shed, so corroded it was falling apart. Dirt, pine needles, and debris surrounded the generator, blown in by the wind and trapped. The shed stank of rot and animal feces, but she saw nothing else there. Had she imagined the sparks? Had she imagined the entire conversation with a being that referred to itself as the Shade King?
If she were going crazy, would she even know?
She sighed, using her boot to brush away the debris in front of the generator—exposing the scuff marks on the floor, long circular curves that ran from the generator to the inner wall of the shed. Excitement surged through her like a caffeine buzz, and she gripped the generator and pulled on it. It didn’t move. She redoubled her effort, straining and grunting. Again, nothing. She stood back, hands on hips, breathing heavily and glaring at the rusty hunk of metal.
"You pissed about something?" Jay asked from right behind her.
She jumped in place, making a noise that sounded entirely too much like a squeal, and rounded on the young man, punching him in his good arm. "Goddamn it, Jay, don't sneak up on me like that!"
"Sorry, sorry," he said with an easy smile, raising his hand to ward off any further blows. "I didn't mean to spook you. Sometimes we just … you know, move a bit too quietly."
"Never mind." She dragged him closer to the generator. "Can you move this?"
He barked in laughter. "No. That thing probably weighs a ton. Even with two good arms, I couldn’t move it. Well … as a werewolf."
She dropped to a knee and trailed her fingers over the scuff marks. "Looks like it scraped the concrete, doesn't it, like it's supposed to move?"
He grunted, staring thoughtfully at it. "Step back." He gripped the generator’s housing with his good arm and braced himself.
"Maybe we should ask one of the others, Casey maybe." Angie’s eyes darted to the bloody bandage around his injured shoulder.
Jay frowned. "Puh-lease. Casey couldn’t pull himself." Then he gritted his teeth and hauled on the generator. At first, nothing happened, and Angie began to suspect she had been wrong, but then with a screech, the entire generator assembly swung away, following the marks on the concrete pad and revealing a metal hatch on the floor with a submerged handle.
"Well, color me surprised," Jay said, wiping his hand on his pants. "That shouldn't be there, should it?"
She smiled, patting his cheek affectionately. "No, sweetie, it shouldn't. I think we've found Tec's secret base."
Angie moved out of the way as the Seagraves and Tavi examined the hatch. "I think it's a survival bunker," Casey said, kneeling before the hatch. He looked up at Angie and the others, all crowded into the cramped shed. "You know, the sort of place the old survivalist crazies used to keep in case of nuclear war."
"I don't think so," Rowan said as he stroked his mustache. "This is an old U.S.A.F. complex. No way a survivalist could build here, even if the site was shut down. And someone went to a lot of trouble to hide this hatch. Professionally."
Casey looked up at his older brother, the confusion clear in his features. "Why?"
"Don't know," Rowan said uneasily. "But it smells like secret government bullshit to me."
"You think this is black ops?" Casey asked.
"I do."
Angie, leaning back on her elbows
against the generator, frowned. "What was this place, exactly?"
"Exactly? I don’t know," Rowan answered. "I was a gunfighter, Casey a pilot, and Lewis a marine. We flew around blowing up shit that needed to be blown up. To the best of my knowledge, this was a radar surveillance site."
"I know a bit about radar sites," Casey said. "You put them on the highest peak you can find, but there are higher mountains than this in the region."
"I don’t understand any of this," Tavi whispered. "But this must be Tec’s secret base."
Angie looked from Tavi to Rowan and Casey. "Why hide an underground bunker, or whatever is down there? And why build an entire radar site as cover? That would be ridiculously expensive, even before the world fell apart."
Rowan shrugged. "You’d be surprised. World was different back in the day, Angie. All sorts of crazy shit got stuffed under the umbrella of government secrecy. Besides, we don’t know if the base was cover or not. Could be someone built this hatch before the base went up—or after it was shut down."
Casey bobbed his large head. "I heard the Russians kept an entire mock-up of an American town to help train their spies so that they’d fit in better."
"That was a movie, dumbass," Rowan said.
"Well, this ain’t a movie. Building a radar complex over another secret site maybe ain’t as crazy as it sounds."
Angie shrugged. To her, they could have been talking about ancient Greece. "If you say so. What are we waiting for?"
"Open it," Tavi agreed. "This is why we came."
"Why you came," Rowan said, but he nodded to Casey. "Do as the lady says. Let’s go down the rabbit hole."
Casey lifted the handle in the hatch until it clicked into place. Then he wrenched it clockwise. Air hissed as the hatch opened, blowing dust and dirt. The hatch swung up on a hydraulic mechanism, revealing a dark tunnel opening with a sturdy metal ladder bolted to the inside. Casey lowered his head into the opening, holding his hand out behind him. Rowan handed Casey one of the tactical lights they had stolen from the Norteno armory, the kind that attached to rifle forestocks, and Casey used it to illuminate the bottom.
"Tunnel down there. Deep. Maybe twenty meters." He pulled his head clear. "Air's fresh. Too fresh for an abandoned bunker."
"Overpressure system," Rowan mused. "That’s why it hissed when we opened the hatch. That means working machinery. How is that possible if this place has been abandoned for half a century?"
"Not abandoned," Tavi answered. "This is Tec's base of operations."
"I thought he worked for you Norties," Casey said.
Tavi shook her head. "He's never worked for us. But he's the one who warned us of the Tzitzime, told us they were the power behind the Aztalan boy emperor. If not for his help, the Aztalans would have invaded years ago. It's this Q, the powerful Fey lord he serves. Whoever he or she is, they've been working through Tec to help us for years now. He always seems to know about shit before it happens."
"That would explain his knowing about the Tzitzime plan to kidnap and sacrifice you guys," Angie said. "Maybe he’s like a crusading angel or something."
Casey grunted, a frown on his features. "Don’t much trust do-gooders."
"If not for him…" Erin’s voice trailed off.
Rowan sighed. "I'll go first." He slung his rifle and climbed into the opening, testing the ladder before putting his weight on it. "Seems solid enough." He took several steps down on the rungs, dropping below the hatch.
"Be careful," Erin said.
"Always careful, sis." he answered. "That's why I'm an old sailor."
"Not so careful the Tzitzime didn't catch you," she shot back.
"Ouch," said Casey, making a pained face. "Harsh but true."
Rowan climbed the rest of the way down the ladder, at least twenty meters. Then he stepped away from the ladder, shining his light about. "There's a tunnel with air vents on the wall, still blowing in fresh air. Come down one at a time, but leave Jay up top to watch the hatch. I don't want to get locked in."
"Why should I stay?" Jay demanded.
"Because I said so," Rowan yelled. "Stop arguing!"
Red-faced, Jay moved to stand watch just outside the shed, his good arm resting on an assault rifle that hung from its sling over his neck.
Casey went next, followed by Tavi and then Erin. Angie came last. The climb down was easy, and soon, she was on the bottom with the others, examining her surroundings. The air was much cooler here, and a wide concrete tunnel led away from the ladder for about fifty feet before stopping at a large, vault-like metal door that Rowan now stood before. A series of lights ran along both sides of the floor, illuminating the walkway. A white sign affixed next to the ladder proclaimed this to be the SECONDARY ACCESS HATCH GAMMA-2.
"There's power down here," Angie whispered, wonder coursing through her. "How is that possible?"
"Same way it's possible with the Home Guard’s Bunker," Rowan called out from where he was examining the metal door. "This place is shielded, with its own generators."
"Damn," muttered Casey, a trace of awe in his voice. "And nobody even knew it was here. This is a treasure."
"Someone knew," Tavi said. "Tec. It's his base."
They joined Rowan before the door. A keypad with a series of buttons lit by an internal light was affixed to the wall. Unlike the hatch, there was no handle on this door.
"It's locked, isn't it?" Angie asked, already knowing the answer.
"Look for buttons that don't have dust or dirt on them," Casey offered. "Or fingerprints. Maybe we can tell which buttons have been used."
"That's not going to work," Angie said. Now that she was closer, she recognized the vault door and the keypad. It was identical to the system in place in the Home Guard's Bunker. She had been the intel officer, but the job came with the secondary duty of unit security officer. "Look," she said, touching one of the nine buttons in three rows on the keypad. The keypad chirped as the buttons lit up, each one now glowing with a random digit from one to nine but in no discernible order. "The numbers change each time the keypad is touched. Without the combo, we’re never getting in."
"Definitely government," Rowan mused. He pointed to a small black lens sitting in a corner over the door. "Camera. Smile, everyone."
"Well, we're sure as hell not getting through this door," Casey said. "Grenades wouldn’t make a dent."
"Agreed," Rowan said, stepping back, hands on hips. "I think this is a bust."
"We can't just give up!" Tavi’s voice rose. "Not after losing so many people. There has to be a way in."
As Angie considered the vault door, the keypad, and the camera, an undercurrent of excitement coursed through her. She shoved Casey out of the way, forcing the much-larger man aside, and then dropped down on a knee, running her finger from the bottom of the keypad to the floor and then along the baseboard and away from the vault door.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Angie-baby," Casey said in a mocking tone. "Was I in your way?"
"Shh." She waved her fingers at him without looking. "And I’m not your baby."
"What's going on, Angie?" Rowan asked.
"This isn't like the Home Guard Bunker, it's identical. What are the chances the same contractor built both sites?"
"If they hired the cheapest bidder, then the odds are better than you might think," Rowan said. "But what does that do for us?"
"I'll show you." Angie found what she was looking for: the strip of rubber running along the base of the tunnel, again, exactly like the Bunker. "Anyone have a screwdriver?"
"Here," Tavi said, pulling a multitool from her belt. She placed it in Angie's hand, and Angie snapped it open, looking for the flat-blade tool.
"Ha!" she said, finding a playing-card-sized indentation beneath the rubber strip about three feet to the right of the door. She jammed the screwdriver in between the concrete wall and the rubber, exposing a corner of the metal plate beneath it. She worked the screwdriver in, pushing the rubber away. "Little help from someone with stronger f
ingers," she said.
Erin bent over, gripped the rubber, and with a grunt, yanked a foot of it away from the wall, completely exposing the metal plate. The plate covered the circuit breaker, or at least that was what it covered back in the Bunker. Angie tried to use the multitool to undo the screws holding the cover in place, but the tip was too large.
"Oh, goddamn it," she muttered, quickly becoming exasperated.
"What are you trying to do?" Rowan asked.
"Remember a couple of years back when we had all those problems with circuits failing?"
"Vaguely," Rowan said. "I remember the techs and security staff whining about working overtime because the doors were screwing up."
"My staff," Angie said. "And it was more than doors screwing up. The electronics were failing, one of the keypad circuits, the same one that randomizes the keypad settings. For a while, it looked like we were going to have to cut our way through all the doors, which would have taken us weeks. But the government contractor built a failsafe in case of prolonged power outages. Took us forever to discover it in the old security manuals, but when we did, we were able to reset each keypad to the factory setting and use the same code for all of them—a code I still remember. No way I'd ever forget that number after all the trouble we ran into with these doors." Her screwdriver's tip scored over the small screw. "Shit, this isn't going to work. I need something much smaller."
"Smallest I have," said Tavi.
"Here, let me," Erin said, dropping onto a knee beside Angie and holding her hand out.
Angie gave her the multitool and moved aside. "Go ahead, but it's too large for—"
Erin jammed the tip of the screwdriver right through the metal plate. Then, working it back and forth, she snapped the entire panel off, breaking the screws and exposing a series of four tumblers.
Angie frowned at Erin but knelt beside her, peering at the tumblers. "Light," she said, and Rowan knelt behind her with his flashlight. At present, all four tumblers were set to zero. "Screwdriver," she said to Erin, holding her hand out. When Erin handed it to her, Angie inserted the tip within a recess at the rear of the tumblers, the reset switch. "Here goes nothing," she whispered. She pushed the tip until she felt a soft click.
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