by Lysa Daley
I know he’s right. The sun has already dipped behind the trees, so the temperature is falling. Jax sees me shivering.
“Where’s your jacket?” he asks.
“Back in the truck,” I say.
Before I can protest, Jax is on his feet. “I’ll go grab it.”
For a moment, I’m alone. My mind is blank as I slowly sip the cool water. The horrible sight of the mutilated bodies has left me feeling numb.
Behind me, there's a rustling in the woods. I freeze. Then it occurs to me it’s probably Tom. It wouldn’t surprise me if he left the stables and followed us here. He was nearly recovered this afternoon when I went to visit him.
“Tom?” I stand, taking a couple of steps toward the clearing as the rustling moves closer. Finally, a massive head appears, staring at me from just inside the forest.
It’s not Tom.
It closely resembles him, except it's bigger and looks a whole lot meaner. With his horned head and his armor like skin, this can only be Calliope’s guardian.
“Hello,” my voice quavers as I look at BrightSky leaning on the chair twenty yards away. “You must be Calliope’s guardian.”
The monster snarls, a low deep sort of sound that reverberates in your chest while filling your heart with fear.
My mind races, weighing my limited options. As the beast slowly advances, I take off sprinting toward the splash of red color near the bench, hollering the whole way. “HELP!!!!”
Glancing over my shoulder, I see a massive clawed paw slashing at me through the air. I tuck and roll, just barely ducking under it as he swipes over my head.
Fitz and his team are instantly in motion. But they’ll never make it to me before I’m gobbled up by this space monster.
I dive for BrightSky, swirling it around my head as the gleaming sword of stardust appears in my hand.
As another paw comes toward me, I use all my strength to pull the blade around. I manage to strike a purely lucky shot as the sword nicks the side of the monster’s arms.
It’s not much of a cut, but at least he reacts and pulls back for an instant. But it bought me enough time for half a dozen rifles to aim at the monster.
Calliope races forward. “Raki!!! Don’t shoot him!”
“Hold your fire!” Fitz yells. “Calliope! Call him off.”
“Raki!” she calls again as he continues to snarl at me.
“Call him off or we’ll shoot,” Fitz warns.
“Raki, it's okay.” Calliope steps between him and me. “They're not going to hurt me. Astrid is not going to hurt me! They're here to help us.”
Raki finally responds to her voice. With every word she speaks, the monster grows more and more calm. The anger in his eyes softens as he moves gently toward Calliope.
Jax appears at my side, pulling me safely behind Fitz and the line of agents with their guns still trained on Raki.
Jax’s face darkens. “Well, I think we know what happened to those poor guys inside.”
After Raki is calmed down — primarily by taking me away from him — Calliope tries to apologize. “Astrid, I’m so sorry my Raki was so bad. He’s usually the sweetest thing ever.”
What exactly am I supposed to say? Yeah, no worries. My Valerian guardian tries to bite random people’s heads off too.
Instead, I reply, “Don’t worry about it. I get it.”
“He must have sensed that you weren’t from this planet so he thought you might be a threat to Calliope,” Jax offers in the way of an explanation.
“Really?” I scrunch my eyebrows together. “Cause I’m sure I was super threatening sitting on that bench drinking water from a paper cup.”
“Yes, but you had BrightSky with you. He can probably feel the vibrations. That may have confused him.”
“Do you think he attacked Tom?” I privately ask him as we approach the rest of the group.
“I don’t know,” Jax says as we join the rest of the tactical team. “But I think it’s a distinct possibility.”
Fitz leans over the big topographical map of the local area now spread out on the uneven ground. “Calliope, can you look at this map and tell us if anything looks familiar?”
Calliope studies the black and white map for a long moment. “There are so many lakes. I can’t be sure where exactly I came from. I thought I would recognize something.”
I glance over her shoulder and realize that she’s right. There must be at least 25 lakes dotting the map like a bad case of chicken pox.
“You said you remembered passing this logging camp?” Fitz asks, trying to jog her memory. “Look around. Do you remember which direction you came from?”
She shakes her head, then looks up at all of us staring at her. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember.”
“Was there anything unusual about the area where you landed?” Jax asks. “Any landmarks that you remember? Anything about duck lake.”
Her eyes brighten. “Yes. There was a little island in the middle of the lake, only big enough for the two trees that were growing on it,” she replies, hopeful that this information might be useful.
The team re-examines the map. But there’s nothing that indicates any small islands in the center of any of the lakes.
Darkness is quickly falling, and frustration fills the air. Something occurs to me. “Calliope, what do you remember seeing when you’re craft landed?”
“You mean from above, from up in the air?”
“Yeah, where there hills or a road? What side was the lake on? Anything like that.”
She thinks for a moment, then says, “I remember there were really big rocky hills out on the left side. And I could see the road in front of me, not far in the distance.”
Armed with this new information, Simmons triangulates the location. “It must be one of these three lakes.”
“Standby. I can pull up visual of those,” Tanaka says, bringing up photographs of these three actual lakes on his tablet. He spins it around revealing an image of a small cluster of rocks jutting out of the center of the second lake with two scrubby pine trees growing at crazy angles.
“That’s it!” Calliope says, clapping her hands with the glee of a three-year-old. Tracing her finger on the map, she says, “On the far side of the lake there's a clearing and a dirt road. My craft is between the road and the lake.
“That’s about ten minutes from here,” Simmons calculates. “Let’s saddle up and get over there before we lose the last light.”
As we head back to the trucks, Fitz puts his hand on my shoulder. “Nice job, Astrid. That was a clever way to help her remember what she saw.”
I nod humbly and try to pretend that I’m not beaming with pride, but inside, I’m totally beaming with pride.
It's a mile and a half hike to the lake. Our caravan of Humvees lumbers along the narrow twisting backwoods country road. The low rumble of the big truck engines breaks the silence of the surrounding forest.
But, quietly at first, another sound begins to fade in. It’s a rhythmic thumping, coming closer and closer to us.
“What’s that noise?” I ask Jax from the backseat of the Humvee.
“I don’t know,” he replies, listening.
We hear them before we see them. Two helicopters approaching from the opposite side of the lake appear overhead.
“Take cover!” Fitz yells into the comm headset and all four trucks pull off the road and under the camouflage of the thick layer of pine trees above us.
“Who is that?” I ask.
“Not our guys.” A sour expression fills Fitz’s face. “But they beat us here.”
Chapter 33
Fitz gazes at the sky with disgust. Like a curse, he mutters, “Horlock search helicopters.”
Before they reach us, they make a wide circle and head back the other way, never passing over us.
“What do we do?” Jax asks.
“We get closer,” Fitz replies, getting out of the vehicle. “Then reevaluate.”
Like ninjas, our team cr
eeps from the road through the woods. In a few moments, we’re dangerously close to circling helicopters.
“Damn!” Fitz curses. “They found her ship before we did.”
Crouched low inside the treeline, we finally get a glimpse of the little space ship, sitting peacefully on the edge of the road like a neatly parked car. The gleaming polished dome shines like liquid metal even in the dim light.
“Who are those men?” Calliope gasps, tears filling her eyes.
The craft is surrounded by men in black suits. My old nemesis, Sunglasses-Man stands front and center, pointing and giving orders.
“Bad guys,” I whisper.
An empty flatbed truck backs up toward the ship as the Horlocks prepare to load it up and take it away.
Fitz and his team huddle sin the safety of the woods discussing their options. Things quickly get heated. Frustrated, Fitz turns in my direction gesturing with his hand. It takes me a moment to realize that he’s summoning Jax, not me.
Nevertheless, I use the opportunity to scoot closer so I can eavesdrop.
“….We don’t have the manpower to stop them,” Tanaka hisses. “We’re totally outnumbered. It would be suicide to try to engage. We have to let them go.”
“We can’t lose this craft,” O’Malley argues. “Not if the memory stone is still inside. The stakes are too great.”
“O’Malley’s right,” Fitz says. “Anyone have a suggestion?”
After a beat, Jax says, “Create a diversion.”
“Such as?” Simmons asks.
“Have Calliope summon her Drolgon. The Horlocks are probably prepared from a guardian to be nearby considering they know that Astrid has Tom.”
“And then what?” Fitz sounds interested.
“If Calliope can get him to appear, I can timeshift into the craft without being noticed.”
“That’s crazy,” Simmons says.
“No, that’s a great idea,” Tanaka says at the same time.
“Except we don’t know the location of the memory stone,” Simmons adds.
“In Earth time, I can be in and out quickly,” Jax counters. “In my time, I can spend more than enough time in the craft to do a thorough search.”
Stone-faced, Fitz silently weighs the pros and cons. “We seem to be out of options. I think we have to give it a go.”
Calliope agrees, then disappears into the forest, assuring us that she’ll return with Raki.
Personally, I would not like to use Tom as any sort of distraction or diversion around a bunch of scary black-eyed Horlocks with guns. Even though I know mere Earthly weapons can’t hurt a drolgon, but a shoulder-propelled rocket wouldn’t do some pretty serious damage. Not to mention alien weapons.
Two minutes later, here they come, Calliope riding on Raki’s back like he’s a racehorse. She looks like a princess from a space opera.
It is, perhaps, the coolest thing I have ever seen, and I’m instantly jealous that I’ve never thought to throw a saddle on Tom.
The plan is to bring Raki out at the rear of the ship to divert the Horlocks away from the craft’s entrance. When it’s clear, Jax can get inside and find the memory stone. I’m sent to stand guard out of sight in the tall brush with BrightSky in her full on gleaming sword form.
The diversion is working. As soon as Calliope and Raki appear from the far side of the woods, all of the Horlocks move in her direction, leaving the craft’s entrance wide open.
“Are you ready?” Jax asks me.
“Ready when you are,” I say, and next thing I know, he’s gone.
Armed with information from Calliope as to where to find the memory stone, Jax timeshifts - moving faster than any of us can see — and enters the little space pod.
Meanwhile, I stay hidden. If anything does go wrong, all I have to do is say “abort” into the comm system headset I’m now wearing, and Fitz and his team will come running.
I nervously sit there watching. It seems like it’s taking too long. Jax promised that he’d be in and out. More time passes. Still no Jax.
Just as I’m about to creep forward to look inside the craft, I hear footsteps approaching.
Oh no. Someone is coming. I see a dark suit appear in the shadows. It’s only one suit, so that’s good. I grip BrightSky tighter in case I need her.
Silently, I watch as their watchman wanders the perimeter of the craft. His pace is slow and steady, almost leisurely, which makes me think he isn’t aware or me or Jax. I nearly want to laugh at how dumb he is.
That is until the whole craft lurches. Jax must have bumped something. Unfortunately, this instantly alerts the watchman.
He comes flying around toward the craft’s entrance.
I’m about to abort the whole operation until he steps into the light, and I recognize his familiar face.
The Horlock’s watchman is Chad Olson.
Chapter 34
“Chad,” I whisper, barely able to form words.
Wearing dark sunglasses, he stops.
My heart flutters wildly inside my chest. I can’t express the overwhelming joy I feel that he’s alive and standing right in front of me.
I throw my arms around him and hug him tight. “I’m so happy we found you.”
But instead of embracing me, he stands strangely rigid, his arms flat against his side.
I take a step back. “Chad?”
But his face shows no emotion, and I can’t see his eyes behind the dark sunglasses.
He suddenly lurches forward grabbing my shoulders. My hands fly up, wrapping around his wrists, but I can’t pry his hands free.
We struggle. My only option is to use my legs. I lean forward, slamming my knee up into his crotch. Normally, this has guys writhing in pain. Chad reacts, but not as much as I expect.
Instead, I grip his wrists more tightly, then swing my elbow up and hard into the side of his head. This knocks his sunglasses right off his face. He’s so startled that he lets go.
I take a step back and realize that Chad now has the same black eyes as a Horlock.
“Chad!” I gasp. “What did they do to you?”
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he silently stares at me with a look so evil and intense it sends chills down my spine.
I turn to run. I know I’m faster than him. Nearly at the edge of the woods, I glance back to see that not only is he keeping up with me, but he’s quickly gaining on me as well.
Changing him into a Horlock has somehow physically changed him as well. He’s faster, stronger, more agile than he was before.
From behind, I feel his iron-like grip wrap around my neck. He’s choking me. I try to cry out, but I can’t.
Reaching up, I try to pry his hands off of me, but he just tightens his grip squeezing my windpipe. I can feel myself beginning to blackout.
Just my luck that the boy I’m crazy about is trying to kill me.
An instant before I lose consciousness, I see a boot come swinging through the air toward Chad’s head. It connects, slamming into his ear, and he instantaneously releases me as he crumbles to the ground.
I whirl around to see Jax standing behind Chad. He just threw a roundhouse kick to save me.
“Are you okay?” Jax asks.
It takes a moment for my brain to refill with oxygen. Rubbing my throat, I say, “I’m alright. You saved me from…” I’m so upset that I can’t go on.
Jax sees my dismay. “It’s not really him. They changed him.”
“Did you find the memory stone?”
“No.” He shakes his head, turning toward the sound of the many heavy footsteps coming toward us. “It’s not there. I looked everywhere. We have to go.”
“We can’t just leave him.”
“He’s a Horlock now. There’s nothing we can do.” Jax retreats into the woods. When he realizes I’m not following him, he pivots. “Astrid! C’mon. We can’t stay.”
“I not leaving him here,” I repeat, looking down at an unconscious Chad on the ground. I’m not sure if this is a gamb
le worth taking or not. All I know is — Horlock or not — this may be our only opportunity to get Chad back.
The footsteps are almost upon us.
“Fine.” Jax lets out an exasperated sigh. In a split second, he’s standing next to me with Chad thrown over his shoulder like a rag doll.
“Take my hand,” Jax reaches for me, just as a swarm of black suits appears, guns drawn.
Reaching for Jax, the loud - BLAM - of a gun rings out.
I’m afraid it’s too late. But as soon as our fingers touch, I’m rocketed into the time shift with Jax. The world around us seems to stop.
The suits look frozen in place. I see the bullet hanging in the air, surprisingly close to us, maybe six or seven feet away.
Other than a heavy pressure on my chest, moving through the time shift doesn’t feel any different than a Sunday stroll through the park.
We disappear into the thick of the trees, heading back to our rendezvous point. Jax labors to move, and I know this time shift with two passengers is a burden for him.
Fifty yards into the forest, we see O’Malley and two of his men, who appear frozen in place but are really just moving in normal time, approaching us.
Jax moves us behind a small copse of ash trees in order to block their view of us.
“Why are we hiding?” I ask.
“Be better if we don’t have to explain the time shift,” Jax says, letting go of my hand as the world comes crashing back into motion.
Still, when we appear, O’Malley seems shocked. “Whoa! Didn’t hear you guys.”
“Hey, we take the whole silent ninja thing seriously,” Jax brushes it off.
“What’s with the Horlock?” O’Malley questions, instinctively raising his hand to his gun.
“He’s coming with us,” Jax says.
“But — “ O’Malley is about to protest.
“He’s coming with us,” I repeat.
It seems to work, and he relents. “Okay. Then let’s get back to the caravan.”
Jax, nearly worn out from the time shift, hands the still unconscious Chad over to O’Malley’s men and we snake our way back to the road and the waiting caravan of Humvees.