Salvation (Rise Book 2)

by Nathan Hystad

  In the early years, he had stared at them almost daily, but now he couldn’t recall the last time the box had been opened.

  “Is that…?” Cole asked, finally showing interest.

  “Yes, it is.” Tom slid a picture across the desk to each of them.

  “Alec, that’s Elaine, your mother at her graduation from Harvard. Isn’t she beautiful?” Tom asked, and Alec nodded, tears falling down his face.

  Cole cleared his throat and picked it up, staring at it hard.

  “And the other picture is them on their wedding day,” Tom said.

  Alec pointed to the couple beside their parents. “Is that you?”

  “It is,” Tom said.

  “Who’s the woman beside you? She’s pretty,” Cole said quietly.

  Tom snatched the picture from the desk and placed it back in the box. “That’s for another day.” He had to focus, and thinking about her today wasn’t going to help anyone.

  “Can I… keep this?” Alec asked, tapping the photo of Elaine. Tom remembered that day so well. He’d applied for a whole week’s leave to make the trip to Boston, and they celebrated her graduation with the most expensive dinner Tom had ever offered to pay for. It had been worth every penny, even though it meant he had to wait another month to buy the engagement ring.

  “You sure can. Cole, do you want one to remember them by?” Tom asked, and Cole shook his head.

  “No, sir,” Cole said firmly.

  Tom gave the twins a solemn smile and pressed the box closed, returning it to his desk. “This isn’t going to be easy, and there will be a lot of roadblocks between us and destroying the gate. Then there’s the whole other part, which means turning all the sick bastards who have sided with them for the last twenty-five years to our way of thinking.”

  “Dex did it,” Alec said.

  “Dex also spent years tracking Roamers and returning them to the aliens. So pardon me if my heart doesn’t warm at the thought,” Tom said. He found himself liking the Hunter but didn’t fully trust him. Once Tom retrieved the contents of the locker, he would make his decision, and he wasn’t sure he could make the right one with Alec peering over his shoulder. He’d have to compromise.

  “Tom, this Captain Soares, is he the real deal?” Cole asked.

  “He’s the best. Been my right hand for a long time. He was there when… he worked for your father. If he seems overprotective of you out there, that’s why. Guys like him don’t forget where they came from,” Tom told Cole.

  “I don’t need to be protected.” Cole crossed his arms.

  “I understand how you feel, but he has years of experience, and I have every confidence you will make a great team,” Tom said.

  “If you say so,” Cole said.

  Tom read into the man’s foul mood and threw a dart at the board, wondering if he’d hit a bullseye. “Is it her?”

  Cole averted his gaze, and Alec seemed lost. “Who? What are you talking about?”

  “The girl. Cole, I’m sorry, but I need her to convince the elders to work with us. Lina’s seen what we’re up against,” Tom said.

  “She’s been through a lot too.”

  “You feel like you need to protect her,” Tom said.

  Cole nodded once. “Not that she needs me, but…”

  “She’s with Monet. Alec can attest to her abilities, right, son?” Tom asked Alec, and the phrase might have been too much. Alec frowned at him, clearly upset with Tom over everything.

  “Monet is the best. If anyone can take care of Lina, it’s her,” Alec told Cole.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Cole said. “Tom, do you think this will work?”

  “It’s a lot of moving pieces. If we get the Roamers, the Freeborn, and the West Coast survivors on board with the Reclaimers, we’ll have a real shot at this,” Tom said.

  “If we can turn the humans on the other end,” Cole finished.

  “Not necessarily. If they don’t turn, then they’re as much alien as the Overseers. We won’t go easy with our retaliation.” Tom had to shoot straight with these two. It was the only way to regain any sense of trust between him and his nephews. He saw Alec swallow, and Tom noticed how alike he was to Travis. The way his eyes crinkled up made him a spitting image.

  Cole had his mother’s lips, the sardonic half-grin she used to give Tom when poking fun at him. The weight of the looming missions suddenly felt too heavy for Tom to bear. He placed a sweaty palm on the table and steadied himself. He coughed, unable to stop, and when he pulled his hand from his mouth, there was blood on it.

  “Are you okay?” Alec asked with evident concern, and Tom nodded through the pain. He was sick, but he wasn’t going without a fight. He wiped the blood off, hoping the boys hadn’t seen it. They had enough to worry about.

  “I’ll be fine. Just a little dry. Too much talking these last couple days. I’m not used to it.” Guilt riddled him as he lied to them, right after deciding to be truthful. But his feelings, or theirs, weren’t what was important. Saving their people was all that mattered. He’d made a vow to see that happen before he died, and he was going to meet that promise to himself. His thoughts drifted to Jennifer, and he shook them clear.

  He never should have showed them those photos.

  “When do we leave, Tom?” Alec asked him.

  “You and I leave with Dex in the morning. Pack your things and say any goodbyes you need to make. We might never be returning here,” Tom said.

  Cole stood, and Alec followed suit. “Four weeks, right?”

  Tom extended his hand, and Cole clasped it, pumping it quickly before releasing. “Four weeks.”

  Cole walked out of the room, leaving Tom with Alec.

  “He’ll come around. He really likes her,” Alec told Tom.

  “I know he does. But we have bigger fish to fry. How about you? Are we square?”

  Alec shrugged in response. “We’ll be okay. What’s in that locker?”

  Tom wasn’t one hundred percent sure. “Something that will turn the tides.”

  “Good, because we’re going to need it.”

  Tom squeezed his nephew on the shoulder and ushered him from the room. “It may seem overwhelming, but keep in mind I’m your family. You are brothers, and there are many things to fight for.”

  Alec nodded, and Cole remained silent, not looking back as he strode through the hallway.

  Tom let it go. He had his own things to gather before they ventured out to begin their impossible adventure.

  Chapter 5

  Cole

  He sat on the edge of the cot, not having slept much in spite of it being one of the most comfortable places he’d ever rested his head. He frowned to himself, earning a curious rotation of the coyote’s head as it returned his look.

  “On second thought,” he said to the coyote as though the animal was aware of his wandering thoughts, “it might not be the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in, but it sure as hell is the safest.”

  The coyote scratched an ear with a stiff hind leg, no doubt suffering from the damage his snare had done to it, which brought out a stab of guilt as it did every time he saw the animal limp. He knew what he was saying was the truth; he’d slept on huge beds in different houses over the years of wandering like a true Freeborn, but none of them had been securely underground in a secret bunker filled with people who wouldn’t turn him in.

  Standing abruptly, he snatched up the bag he’d packed and repacked a few times during the night when he couldn’t sleep. The coyote followed as he left the room at a speed anyone who wasn’t familiar with him might be described as “storming” and labored up the metal staircase behind him as they headed up the two flights to where he took the wild mutt to do what it needed to do.

  He found the hydroponics level intriguing no matter how brooding his mood was.

  Long, low-roofed, and extending as far as he could see was what seemed to him like half a tube. The flat ground played host to six raised beds filled with strong green shoots that e
xtended up wires towards the semi-circular domed roof and the powerful lamps that hung on chains to bathe them in fake sunlight and warmth.

  The coyote loped lazily towards the big pile of pulled stems and leaves and cocked a leg against the nearest slope. Cole hung around watching the animal as it sniffed around the ground for almost a minute before deciding to cop a squat in pretty much the first place it snuffled at. The coyote didn’t like him making eye contact, so he walked away a few paces and retrieved a weathered spade that he used to scrape the steaming addition into the rotting vegetation, which would fall into the cycle as it was used to keep the soil rich and fertile ready for the next wave of seeds to be planted.

  Heading up another two flights, slower this time because the one of them with four legs began to struggle on the metal steps, he turned to the coyote and told it to wait, pointing at a spot away from the entrance to the place where they served food.

  Its only protest was to fix him with a withering glance that warned of an immediate and lasting disappointment should he return empty-handed.

  Cole went inside, seeing a man dressed for the road much as he imagined he would look to others, but this man wore a heavy vest filled with magazines for the big rifle that rested on the table in front of him. Glancing up and catching his eye, the man waved him over.

  “Captain,” Cole said as he neared him.

  “Just Soares is fine, kid,” he answered. “Grab yourself some chow before we head out.” He added a backwards nod of his head towards the area where the food was served, intended to help Cole understand what he meant by the word.

  Cole understood it. Tom had always called food “chow,” even when literally nobody else he’d ever met used the term. He scooped food, careful not to take too much and fighting the strange feeling that he should be paying for it somehow, before returning to sit opposite Soares.

  The two ate in silence, which grew more awkward by the second until Cole finally broke and tried to start a conversation.

  “I get my gun back, right?” he asked, nodding at the well-worn grip of the man’s rifle.

  “Uh-huh,” Soares answered with an affirmative inflection.

  “That one yours?”

  “There are many like it,” Soares intoned solemnly, “but this one is mine.” Cole shot him a look of confusion before the older man laughed. His face transformed when he did, cracking apart to switch him from scarred and brooding to, well, happier.

  “Joke, kid. From a whole world ago.” Cole was put off from pressing the issue when Soares’ face descended into the hard, stony mask he usually saw him wearing. The two finished their breakfast in silence until Soares drained the last of the black liquid from his cup and pulled a face.

  “Can’t ever brew it right, can they? No matter how hard the eggheads try, they just can’t make it taste like real Colombian roast.” Cole pulled a half smile as though he wasn’t quite sure if agreeing was the right answer.

  “You know something?” Soares said as he stood and slung his rifle before someone else offered to take away their trays before he could pick it up himself. Soares thanked the man and turned to Cole as he led the way out of the room. “We had a Colombian naval infantry guy tag along on a training exercise once in the way back when, and he swore the best coffee in the world was a jar of that instant crap the Brits used to drink.” He shook his head as he walked, making Cole unsure as to why having better coffee mattered in the grand scheme of things. He was saved having to respond when the older man pointed at the coyote that had automatically fallen in behind Cole.

  “You can’t bring that thing,” Soares said. “It’ll have to go into a kennel.”

  “You can’t put him in a kennel,” Cole answered, feeling more than a little defensive of the animal. It wasn’t so much that the two unlikely allies held any kind of fondness for one another, but he felt he owed the animal and it was bound to him because he’d saved its life.

  “Figure it out, kid,” Soares told him, “because we’re leaving in twenty minutes and it sure as shit ain’t tagging along. Meet me outside when you’re ready. I’ll bring you your gun.”

  With that, he walked away, leaving Cole standing three paces from the coyote, which stared at him with a bored expectation, as though he realized the young man was going to do something but couldn’t really give a damn what.

  “He can come with me,” a voice said behind him. He didn’t turn at first because he recognized the voice the second she spoke. The coyote betrayed him by breaking eye contact and leaning slightly to look at Lina.

  “That’s a great idea, actually,” Cole said, turning to face her with a smile that was so obviously trying too hard to be casual. “He can keep you safe. You know, protect you?”

  “Because the poor little girl can’t defend herself?” Lina asked, no trace of humor in her expression or her words.

  “Wait, that’s not… that’s not what I meant. I was ju—” She laughed, cutting him off in full flow.

  “Relax. I heard the man say you couldn’t take him, but my guess is that if we’re going to the villages, then it’ll be more his—” she gestured at the coyote, who watched their exchange with mild disinterest, “—territory than it will be mine.”

  “You’re sure?” Cole asked, genuinely pleased that the coyote would be able to stay with one of them.

  “I am,” she told him, “but he needs a name.”

  Cole thought about it as the animal watched him with an expression that made it clear the man would ultimately disappoint him in some way.

  “What do you think, buddy?” he asked, as much to cover his own embarrassment at not knowing what to say to Lina.

  “Buddy?” she asked, misunderstanding him, as she hadn’t heard the terminology used where she grew up. “I like it.”

  “No, I…” Cole stopped speaking and let the name sink in.

  “Buddy!” Lina said as she bent forward and patted her hands on her thighs. The coyote, as if intentionally annoying Cole, trotted to her with a guilty grovel as it neared her, like it wanted reassurance. She patted it with both hands as it leaned against her legs, displaying rare affection.

  Lina peered up at Cole, a wide smile across her face, her eyes sparkling.

  “He needs to eat…” Cole began again, even though the woman obviously knew what the animal needed just as well as he did. She placed a hand on his arm, making him fight the urge to recoil from the sudden shock her light touch sent through his body.

  “He’ll be fine with me,” she said. Cole swallowed, searching for a response but failing to understand that he didn’t need to say anything at all. He nodded, accepting her reassuring words.

  “When are you going?” he asked, breaking the spell the two of them had fallen under. She pulled her arm away.

  “Now.” He took in the straps of the bag on her shoulders and the clothes she wore, noticing them for the first time.

  “Walk you out?” he said awkwardly, jerking his head in the direction of the tunnel exit where the big underground town spilled out through an impossibly narrow doorway, given the scale of what was hidden inside the mountain.

  Outside, Cole found Soares standing close to Monet and speaking in a low voice. The two stood in awkward silence before Lina stepped close and hesitated once before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself close to him. He responded, unsure of what to do with his hands before eventually electing to slip them in between her back and the pack she wore.

  He wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way, holding their breath and each other like some bond was being stretched and risked breaking by their separation.

  “Take care of her, okay?” Cole said, pointing a finger at the coyote, who opted to turn and walk away like he hadn’t even spoken. Lina laughed, her eyes cast shyly towards the ground.

  “You take care of yourself too,” she told him. “I won’t be happy if you get yourself killed,” she added with a light punch to his chest.

  “I wouldn’t be thrilled about that eit
her.”

  “When you two have finished canoodling,” Soares said, tossing Cole’s shotgun to him and making him throw up an instinctive hand to catch the weapon. He recovered in time to catch the belt of spare ammo for the twelve-gauge.

  “You have rations?” he asked. Cole nodded, unthinkingly curling his lip as he remembered the freeze-dried lumps of food in the small foil pouches stuffed into his pack. He’d rather set traps in the day and move at night like he usually did, but his companion evidently saw no worth or grace in the art of hunting.

  “You ready to head out, brother?” Alec asked from behind him. He adjusted his pack and settled the ammunition over his body. He recognized the voice because it was his voice, only somehow… weaker. Like it had been damaged or at least hadn’t been taught how to be strong. He felt a stab of shame as he realized that was what he thought of his brother.

  “Yeah,” he said. “You?”

  “Come on, Cole,” Soares said as he climbed into the open back of a dusty off-road truck. He turned to Alec, mouth open to issue an uncertain apology that would save him from the awkwardness of the goodbye.

  “It’s okay,” Alec said. “You go on. I’ll see you soon.” Cole turned to leave with a nod, swinging towards Alec at the last second and wrapping his free right arm around the man’s neck to pull him in close.

  “You stay safe, you hear me?” Alec tried to respond, but his words were muffled by Cole’s grip. The fact that he was answering so quick told Cole that he hadn’t been taken seriously.

  “I mean it,” he said, reinforcing his words with a sudden tightening of his already strong lock around his brother’s neck. “Don’t be the hero, don’t be a fool, and keep quiet. Always keep quiet. You don’t want a Tracker hunting you down, believe me.” He released Alec, who clung on to him briefly before letting go.

  “I promise,” Alec said.

  Cole turned away and climbed up the tail gate of the truck, shooting one last forlorn glance in Lina’s direction, to catch his breath at her smile and hopeful wave. Beside her, sitting calmly next to her legs, the coyote fixed him with a look that he hoped conveyed its loyalty to her in his absence.