Terra Nova (The Variant Conspiracy Book 3)

by Christine Hart

  The sandstorm carried on in the distance. Invisible walls around and above us kept the wind and debris from entering our space. Faith shook copious amounts of sand from her dreadlocks as the rest of us brushed sand and dirt off our faces.

  “There they are!” said Cole. He released an arm from around Gemma to wave, beckoning them into our fragile shelter.

  As they moved closer to us, I saw Josh towing Melissa by her hand. He broke through into the bubble and took a desperate gasp of air. He pulled in Melissa. She gulped and fell to the ground coughing.

  “Where the shit are we?” Faith shouted at Melissa.

  “I don’t know. I think . . . I must have been thinking about the Syrian sandstorms I read about in Compendium files.” Melissa coughed a few more times.

  “You brought us to a freaking sandstorm!” yelled Ilya.

  “We would have been better off swimming to Greece!” shouted Cole.

  “I’m sorry! It was an accident. It’s not that I can’t transport to places I’ve never been. It’s more I shouldn’t because I’m flying blind. My memories of Santorini are faint at best so I must have slipped off course. I’ll try again.”

  “Damn right you’re gonna try again!” Faith continued knocking dust and dirt out of individual dreads.

  “Would you mind testing it first before the rest of us go through?” said Jonah.

  “Of course, she’s going to fucking test it!” said Faith.

  “It’s not her fault. We’re lucky we have her with us. You know anyone else who can open a portal between two points in space?” I yelled at Faith.

  Faith glared at me and resumed shaking sand out of her dreadlocks.

  “Melissa, I don’t want to make this worse, but I’m not sure how long my little miracle bubble here will last. I don’t really understand how I made this happen in the first place.”

  “I’m ready. Just give me one more moment.” Melissa dusted herself off and rubbed sweaty dirt off her face. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, coughed, and recovered. She breathed in and out and in and out. Then she swooped her arm slowly and carefully through the air until her liquid silver oval came back to life. She plunged through the uncertain gateway.

  We waited nervously for a moment. No one spoke. Suddenly Melissa came back through the portal smiling. “Come on guys, it’s a sunny day on Santorini.”

  She stepped into her oval and I followed first, hoping my confidence would inspire the others. Jonah kept hold of my hand and slipped through behind me.

  Bright sun blinded me for a moment. As my eyes adjusted, a cliff-top plateau of dry grass unfolded around me. Melissa had chosen her spot well. We were isolated from the town which clung to a cliff far away. Beaches below were full of sunbathers too distant to notice the flicker of Melissa’s portal.

  Josh brushed dirt from his vest and pants. “We should find some water and clean up first. If we head into town looking like we just escaped a sandstorm, we’re going to attract some attention.”

  “I’ve got this.” Jonah walked to the edge of the cliff. As though he pulled a rope up from a climb, he guided seawater up a channel on the side of the cliff facing away from the tourist hub. He pulled and pulled until a pool of murky seawater swirled beside us in mid-air.

  “That’s the best I can do on an arid Mediterranean island.” Jonah shook off his dirty jacket and plunged his arms into the floating basin-less bath. He splashed his face. The water pleased him and he immersed himself leaving only his calves and feet bare.

  Faith plunged in and I gingerly touched the edge of the pool. The water smelled of salt and seaweed, but it felt warm. I splashed my face a bit and retreated since Jonah’s jacket had kept the worst of the storm from me.

  Once everyone had their fill of wetting and washing, Jonah eased the water to the ground. Water flooded our feet and then gushed back down off the edge of the cliff.

  “Everybody ready to meet some Greeks?” said Ilya.

  “We’ll find more tourists than locals around here,” said Melissa.

  “Just walk.” Faith kept frowning as she untangled a long strip of seaweed wrapped around one of her dreads.

  The Mediterranean sun dried us quickly as we walked along a dirt path toward the cluster of whitewashed cube and dome homes at the edge of town.

  Our group didn’t appear as though we’d just come from a sandstorm, but we weren’t tidy. I wanted to stop and buy clothes. I wanted a shower and a bed.

  More than that, I was starving. “We should grab some food before we find this ferry. I’m assuming most people on this island will speak English?”

  “Yeah, that’s a safe bet. We should buy some souvenirs too. If we start spending money quickly, no one will care that we look like vagrants,” said Josh.

  “I’ve still got those rolls of Euros and American dollars.”

  “Then, lunch is on you,” said Faith.

  The town rose in front of us as we crested the last hill. Roasting meat and drumbeats greeted us. I was so happy I nearly cried. I held it in and tied my hair back into a ponytail.

  We passed several bright white homes on the outskirts before the buildings connected and stone stairs descended into the commercial area.

  A cobblestone street wound past a resort that emanated a vibe far too posh for the likes of us. Bright blue and yellow paint on window frames and doors shone in the strong sun overhead. Hanging baskets of bright flowers outside high-end boutiques betrayed the ancient age of the island.

  We pushed on to where the white paint had faded to dingy ivory and sun-bleached baby blue peeled off the shutters. A general store had fruit in carts outside and enough young sweaty tourists milled about that we weren’t quite so odd.

  I angled my way through a group of Spanish-speaking girls around my own age and I started filling a wire basket with food. A box of crackers, a loaf of bread, a bottle of water, some cheese, a jar of olives. I picked up a canvas tote bag, paid for the lot, and stuffed it all into the bag which hung nicely from my shoulder. My friends continued milling around outside, except for Josh who talked with the Spanish girls. I admired his seemingly flawless Spanish while Melissa sneered.

  Jonah stopped a lady pushing a souvlaki cart and bought a dozen skewers of meat. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ilya’s head perk up before he ran off into a crowd.

  We found an unoccupied brick ledge and sat down to eat our meat. I passed around chunks of the loaf of bread I’d bought. Faith bought six bottles of beer from a nearby pub and handed them down the line.

  “Where did Ilya take off to?” I asked Faith.

  “We should start finding that ferry.” Josh took a large bite of his skewer and ate hungrily.

  “He thought he heard a variant,” said Faith calmly.

  “What?” Cole frowned as he chugged on his bottle of beer.

  “And he just took off hunting her?” I said.

  “Him, I think. Ilya said he’d be right back.” Faith’s face conveyed contentment as she chewed on her bread and cheese.

  “Jerk,” I said into my skewer of chicken. The meat and beer and bread tasted so good I couldn’t stay angry.

  We finished our food while the street bustled around us. Finally, Ilya appeared in the crowd with a small olive-skinned man in tow. The man seemed much older than us, although he was several inches shorter than Ilya.

  “Hey, guys, this is Giorgio,” said Ilya.

  “And this is happening, why?” Josh warily eyed Giorgio.

  “Don’t be rude. I’m Melissa.” She stood up and extended her hand, using her open palm to present each of us in turn. “That ill-tempered man is Josh. These are our friends, Faith, Cole, Jonah, Irina, and Gemma.”

  “Nice meeting of you,” said Giorgio in a thick Greek accent.

  “It’s nice to meet you to
o, but we’re not staying long on Santorini.” Jonah pushed back his wet hair from his face. I noticed his blue eyes matched the ocean water.

  “Can you point us in the direction of the ferry to Crete, preferably Heraklion, specifically,” said Josh.

  “I take you on my boat.” Giorgio nodded with an air of finality.

  “Uh, I’m sorry, but we don’t know you well enough to hop on your boat. I don’t know what Ilya told you, but we’re in a hurry. And we’ve got a very important job to do.” Cole tipped his bottle and finished the last of his beer.

  “Yes, is important to stop Evonatura from causing many more problems.” The features on his face were stone cold serious. “Giorgio knows what they’ve done.”

  “All the same, we’re happy to take the ferry,” I said cautiously. Hairs on the back of my neck prickled. This was far too convenient.

  “Ferry goes only in morning now. Only one ferry business left from better days. Costs too much for many trips. You want to go fast, you come now with me,” said Giorgio.

  “He’s telling the truth. He’s a pyrokinetic. That’s how I heard him. He was keeping his temper in check to stop from burning down his ex-wife’s shop. Not unlike someone else I know.” Ilya playfully lifted one of Faith’s purple locks. She sneered at him.

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?” I said directly to my brother.

  “His boat is the only way off the island until tomorrow and that certainly puts a new spin on things,” Ilya said.

  “Don’t you think it’s a bit convenient that this guy happens to cross our path?” Cole pointed at Giorgio with contempt.

  “How do we know he’s not working for Evonatura? Or God knows who else?” I had a bad feeling and I needed Ilya to share it.

  “Sis, he seems like a nice guy.” Gemma sipped from her bottle.

  I wondered if she could still count on one hand the number beers she’d ever had. “Nobody’s trusting your judgment for the next decade, not after where we found you,” I told my sister. I reached out my hand to Giorgio. “Let me see what I can see.”

  Giorgio sized me up and then took my hand. Santorini melted into a sunny hilltop vineyard. I saw Giorgio talking with a man in a suit. I recognized Claude Mueller from his portrait in Evonatura’s London office.

  Giorgio wore overalls and a dirty brown T-shirt. He cleaned his hands with a cloth as he spoke. “Replacing grapes with new plants will kill business.”

  “You will be very well compensated for participating in our work. Whatever you earn at your winery will be doubled by me. I will pay you in cash. Declare only what you want to the Italian government.”

  “And what you want me to grow?”

  “That’s on a need-to-know basis. Until you’re part of our project, you don’t need to know. Keep in mind, doing business with Evonatura comes with the added security our staff can offer. On the other hand, not doing business with us is risky. What if someone down in Messina learned about you and your wife? This is not a part of the world that embraces oddities, particularly of the non-human variety. What if a local found you out? They might just decide you’re a demon and that your wife is a witch. Wouldn’t that be sad? Frightened or superstitious people are dangerous.”

  “You don’t make threats to me. Fine, I grow your crops for one year. Then you leave again. Is that deal good enough for you?”

  “We need five years. Minimum. We’ll pull our plants when we’re ready. You’ll allow us to convert your winery to laboratory space as well.”

  “My wife is going to be angry. The winery is in her family for many generations.”

  “Help her understand this is how she can keep it for many more,” said Claude. “If she doesn’t go along with what we want, she won’t have a vineyard for long.”

  I released Giorgio’s hand and returned to Santorini. “Yeah, he’s not onboard with Evonatura,” I said to the group. To Giorgio, I added, “I’m sorry they destroyed your wife’s vineyard. I don’t know how you ended up here, but that was unfair.”

  “Many years ago now. She is not my wife anymore. Forget my past. Now, we go to Crete.”

  I picked up my backpack and nodded. “Lead the way.”

  Chapter 15

  Giorgio’s boat was a small fishing trawler which could barely transport nine people including its captain. We had standing room only by the time everyone was onboard. I no longer cared for comfort though. The anxiety eating away at my insides made rest fitful and peace unattainable.

  I consoled myself with the thought that our journey would end soon, one way or another. Then I remembered I’d thought the same thing outside Chatham Park. My unease persisted, but Jonah’s arms helped. I buried my face in his chest and curled up on his lap. With so few seats, it was a childish indulgence I didn’t have to excuse.

  Giorgio steered us out of the harbor and into the open ocean of the Mediterranean Sea. The water was a soft warm blue, bluer even than Jonah’s eyes. He looked more alive than I had ever seen him. He basked in his element out on the sea. Only his pale skin which refused to tan gave away that he wasn’t a native Greek.

  The afternoon sun ripened to a golden hue as it descended. Our journey went quickly. Less than two hours later, Giorgio docked at a marina outside Heraklion exactly as we’d asked him. The day unfolded so neatly I felt like we were finally on the right path.

  “I take you to airport too. Pickpockets are bad in this city. You get lost, maybe you get into trouble,” said Giorgio.

  We made our way from the bustling marina up to the swarming main waterfront road where Giorgio instantly hailed a minivan taxi. Fortune stayed on our side. If Santorini and Crete had not been bustling tourist destinations, we might have remained stranded even after fighting our way out of a Syrian sandstorm.

  “Do you know how often flights leave for Cairo? Or really anywhere in Eastern Africa will do as long as it’s not too far from Nairobi,” I asked Giorgio as I followed him into the minivan.

  “Airport here is like ferries. Nothing goes as often now with money troubles. Tourists still come but it is not enough,” said Giorgio.

  “We need to get to Nairobi as quickly as possible.” The urgency in Jonah’s voice wasn’t lost on Giorgio.

  “What about a private charter? There must be services that fly on demand if the price is right.” Melissa sounded desperate.

  “Throwing money at the problem might not be the right answer. We can’t keep a low profile if we’re tossing cash here and there. People remember you that way.” Josh nodded toward the taxi driver.

  Melissa rolled her eyes.

  Cole laced his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. “I’m starting to care less and less about our profile.”

  “Yeah, I’m ready to burn them all on sight. I don’t care if we’re in the middle of an international plaza.” Faith snapped a flame to life and blew it out instantly.

  “Okay, save it for later,” said Ilya.

  I heard a twinge of hurt in his voice and I remembered that not so long ago Ilya held out hope of turning his father, our father, back from his path of psychotic annihilation.

  The taxi-van pulled up at the N. Kazantzakis Heraklion Airport. The signage was in two languages, English and Greek. The Greek letters enchanted me, ΚΡΑΤΙΚΟΣ AEPOΛIMENAΣ HPAKΛEIOY N.KAZANTZAKHΣ. My heart ached for everything I’d passed by too quickly since we spilled out into that smelly London alley.

  “I come with you. I will talk for you if is needed.” Giorgio rattled something quickly in Greek at the cab driver and slipped him some Euros.

  “You don’t have to do this, but thank you,” I said.

  Giorgio remained in the cab exchanging more words with the driver. Their discussion heated up, so we exited quickly.

  No sooner than we piled out of the cab, we noticed the lack of activity at wha
t should have been a busy airport.

  “Something’s wrong,” said Jonah.

  I evaluated the main entrance to the airport. The sliding glass doors should have been opening and closing, but they weren’t. Someone had taped two large hand-written signs to the inside of the glass.

  I approached and started to read the English version. Heraklion Airport is closed for business until further notice. Operations will resume under new management as soon as possible. Please contact your air carrier provider for refunds and rescheduling. We apologize for any inconvenience.

  “The airport is closed,” I called back to the group.

  Giorgio and the cab driver were now yelling at each other.

  “What do you mean it’s closed?” said Ilya.

  “It sounds like they went bankrupt. Or something.”

  “Perfect!” yelled Faith.

  Giorgio got out of the minivan and the driver tore off down the road.

  “I take it he knew the airport was closed before he brought us out here,” said Josh.

  “Man is greedy jerk. He knew. He brought us and says he does what we tell him. Nobody ask him if airport is open or shut.”

  “Great, now we’re stuck,” said Cole.

  Melissa and Gemma sat down on the curb. Jonah and I did the same. Exhausted, defeat weighed me down even further.

  “Giorgio, I hate to ask, but are you able to take us on to Cairo from here. Or maybe over to Turkey where we can get a flight to Cairo?” said Jonah.

  “This shit is taking too long!” blurted Faith.

  “It’s not like we have any choice!” Ilya shouted at her.

  “How long will it take us to get to Cairo by boat?” Josh asked Giorgio.