Don't Let Them Find You (The Dyian Series Book 1)

by Brandy Isaacs

  Doc seemed to notice that Sydney was staring at him blankly. “Sorry,” he apologized. “You don’t want a biology lesson, do you?” Sydney shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. “Put simply, even though this parasite was over a thousand years old, it should have shared similarities to parasites that exist today.”

  “But it didn’t,” Sydney interpreted dryly.

  “It did not.”

  “And what did that mean?” She knew. On some primal level, she knew. But she needed Doc to say it, while at the same time she was terrified to hear him confirm her fears.

  “It means...I believed that the parasite did not originate on Earth.”

  The floor seemed to drop out from underneath her stool, and Sydney was sure that if she had been standing she would have fallen. Her breathing was shallow and she couldn’t form words her lips still moved. She felt like a fish out of water gasping for breath. Some rational part of her mind tried to tell her a fossilized alien couldn’t do anything to her now, but given her life these past five months she knew reason no longer applied.

  “I wanted to bring the fossils back to the states, but the authorities wouldn’t let me,” Doc explained bitterly. “I didn’t have the proper equipment to study them in the field, so our knowledge of these specimens was limited. But I did the best I could,” he sighed. “After we got the fossils out and the local university stole them, we kept digging. Underneath the altar we found something else. There were golden statues that looked like the others, but when we lifted them out, something...shifted inside,” he smiled at her but she was still speechless.

  “We hid the statues, two of them, in our tent and later that night we cut one open. It felt like a sacrilege to destroy such a beautiful artifact but we knew whatever was inside of it was more important. We just knew it! And we were right,” he raised his hands like a magician revealing his trick. His eyes were glittering and he was breathing hard.

  “What did you find?” Sydney was surprised she had found her voice.

  “I called them spores. But they were much more complex that than. There were hundreds of very small, about the size of a marble, round objects. They were golden in color and encased something at their center that was about the size of a grass seed and was darkly colored. We didn’t have more than a microscope, but we were pretty sure they were globules of crystallized amber or honey.”

  “Someone made them?”

  “Yes!”

  “Why?”

  “To protect whatever was inside them,” Doc answered as if it should be obvious.

  “And what was inside of them?”

  “We weren’t sure at first but we tried to extract one. Once we got it out it was smooth and it even felt warm and soft, it felt alive. At first I thought it was, in fact, a seed. But in a matter of minutes it dried out and turned to dust.”

  “It was still alive? After all that time?”

  “Yes! It was amazing.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “It was in a sort of stasis protected and nourished by the honey casing.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I got word to my superiors in the States,” his voice was no longer excited.

  “How did they react?”

  “As if I was insane! Apparently, the local authorities had filed reports and were in the process of having Andrew and I both deported.” Doc’s eyes were no longer glittering with enthusiasm. Now they were glowing in anger.

  Sydney swallowed hard and kept quiet. She remembered his reaction last night when discussing his job. She didn’t want to push him further. But I’m only hearing one side of the story, she told herself. What did he do to get deported? Why was his university so willing to disassociate themselves with his work? “That’s terrible,” she said finally.

  “It’s disloyal, arrogant, dismissive and disrespectful,” spittle flew from his lips as he ranted.

  Sydney nodded in agreement. “What did you do?”

  “Well! I was forced to do more research there. I played nice and Andrew pulled some strings and greased some official palms and slowed down our extradition. I made some logical jumps and theorized that these spores were the...sort of...larvae stage of this life form. It’s really not that big of a jump if you think about it,” Doc shrugged.

  Sydney had no idea what kind of logic Doc was using, but she didn’t tell him she was lost. She just let him keep talking. Her hands were shaking so hard she was surprised the coffee cup she was gripping wasn’t rattling against the counter. “Sure,” she nodded.

  “The spore was alive, we knew that. But it died outside of its casing. Andrew and I both became obsessed with the idea of giving the larvae a chance to grow, to spawn. We just didn’t know how. We had never seen anything like this before so we had to just go on guts and instincts. Even though it wasn’t—apparently—genetically related to modern parasites, I couldn’t help but think of Hymenoepimecis argyraphaga—wasps that lay their eggs on the abdomen of orb spiders. Just by injecting a chemical into the spider, the parasite manipulates the spider into weaving a web designed for the needs of the wasp. Parasites like the Hymenoepimecis argyraphaga are called zombie parasites because they take control of the host.”

  “Why did the alien things remind you of those wasps?”

  “First, the specimen we found in the skull was complex. The size of its brain cavity indicated the possibility of higher thinking. It wasn’t a simple organism. Then there was fact that the skeleton that was missing its head was the only one not in a sacrificial position. And it looked as if he was killed by beheading and treated quite different than the others. His head was placed in a position of offering. The ones laid out after their parasite burst from their heads were in a position that showed they had been revered. Why would a people practically worship something that was violently causing their own deaths?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “I don’t think they were worshiping their murderers. I think their murderers were harvesting and nurturing their offspring.”

  Xander

  “I don’t like the idea of leaving,” Xander grumbled again.

  “I don’t either,” Shay tried to comfort him. “But we need to find someone else like Sydney and I don’t think we’re going to find it in the woods in Wisconsin, do you?”

  “No,” Xander admitted.

  Zak was driving and Shay had offered shotgun to Xander but he turned it down. He sat deep in the back with his knees spread to accommodate Shay’s seat. Pan’s laptop was propped in his lap.

  He had been retracing Sydney’s searches for the past hour and a half and hadn’t found anything significant yet. Pan’s blog, obviously not updated recently, led him to several other bloggers that he should probably write off as kooks considering their explanation for so many of their peers missing was government conspiracies and alien abductions. The alien theories in particular stuck out to Xander considering the weirdness that he had already seen. Several of them cited recent satellite outages as proof of something extraterrestrial being responsible. He wanted to laugh it off, but he knew that would be a mistake. If he ignored his voice of reason...aliens didn’t seem all that farfetched.

  “Any leads yet?” Zak asked.

  “Not really. According to Syd’s notes it looks like the closest missing person was in Oklahoma.” He hesitated to tell Shay and Zak about the alien theories yet. Everyone had their limit, and until he had more proof he didn’t want to freak anyone out even more.

  “Shit. I hope we don’t have to go to Oklahoma to find someone,” Shay whined. “That would take forever.”

  “Not to mention take us even further away from Sydney,” Xander huffed.

  Zak snorted, “As far as you know.”

  “Meaning?” Xander narrowed his eyes at him.

  “Whoever took Sydney could have taken her halfway across the world by now.”

  Shay sat straighter in her seat. “Zak, stop.” She glanced back at Xander. “It would be pretty hard to get someone w
ithout an ID on a plane. Let alone to another country.”

  “I know,” he nodded at her gratefully, wishing that made him feel better at all. He scanned through Syd’s notes some more. Her tiny straight handwriting was different from most women’s he had seen. Shay’s was huge and looping. He ran his fingers over the indentations in the paper. He remembered watching her make a lot of these notes, her brow furrowed in concentration. She buried her hand in the front part of her hair to prop her head up when she was concentrating. The memory made him smile.

  When he thought about how long it would take to get to wherever one of these people had went missing and then try to track them down he got sick to his stomach. They didn’t have that kind of time—Sydney didn’t have that kind of time. What if someone is still watching the garage? He had no way of knowing how many people were working with the Crazy Guy. He appeared to be alone when he cut off Connor’s head, but a whole army could have been waiting outside and Xander wouldn’t have known. He hadn’t installed cameras outside to save money. He had been more worried about people being inside his garage than outside it.

  He pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and dialed Rabbit’s number. When Rabbit answered he launched right in—too anxious for goading or pleasantries. “Any luck with the doctor?”

  “Getting there,” Rabbit growled.

  “Well, I have another way you might be able to repay me.”

  “What’s that?”

  Xander could see Shay scowling at him through the side mirror. “Some people were watching my garage at least a couple of days ago. Can you send some guys over there and keep an eye out? See if they are still around. And if they are, bring them to me?”

  “What the hell have you gotten into?”

  “Don’t worry about it. If you bring me the stalker—or stalkers—we’ll be even. We’ll be back to the garage in a few hours. I’ll let you know if or when we leave again.” Xander hung up without waiting for a response.

  “What the hell are you doing getting involved with him?”

  Xander didn’t meet her eyes. “He owes me.”

  “Yeah he does. But that debt is better left unsettled. Going back down that rabbit hole is a terrible idea.”

  “Shay! He might be able to help,” he felt like he was talking to their mom but knew better than to point that out to his sister.

  “What have you asked him to do?”

  “First it was find a doctor for Syd.”

  “And now you’ve got him watching the garage?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How do you even know They are still watching the place?” Zak asked. He was wise enough to not ask more than he needed to. Apparently, he also had a clear understanding the importance of keeping secrets.

  “I don’t. But it’s worth a shot, right?”

  “Hell if I know,” Zak shrugged but didn’t argue.

  Shay was quietly angry and Xander avoided meeting her eyes in the mirror. He scrolled through the pictures on his phone. There was one of him and Sydney, he had taken it the morning Shay and Zak showed up at the garage. They were lying in bed, both of their hair was tangled, flattened in some areas and sticking up in others. They were smiling brightly as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Xander would give anything to go back to that moment and make it true.

  “You know I hate to say I told you so,” Zak said with anything except regret. “But, it would be awesome if we had that Connor guy’s body to examine. You know, if it wasn’t dissolving in acid.”

  Before Xander could punch him in the back of the head and potentially cause a car wreck killing them all, Shay intercepted by pointing out logic. “Is there really any point in fighting about it now?”

  Zak shrugged and Xander leaned back into the seat again, taking a deep breath. “There’s no point being an asshole about it. It’s done with,” Xander agreed.

  ***

  In the apartment over the garage they all sat around the coffee table. Everywhere Xander looked he was reminded of Sydney. He knew if he laid on the bed and buried his face in the pillow he would still be able to smell her coconut shampoo. He jumped when Shay patted his arm as if she knew what he was thinking.

  “Here,” she sat on the couch and began packing weed into a glass bowl. “We all need to calm down. There’s not a lot we can do just now. If we are going to freaking drive to Oklahoma we need to get some rest tonight. This will help. She passed the bowl to Xander and he took a deep hit before handing it off to Zak.

  “Should we even bother going to Oklahoma? What are the chances this Tasha person is still around there?” Zak asked, letting out a big cloud of pungent smoke.

  “Connor hung around his place even after he was reported missing.”

  “Oh,” Zak croaked. “So, we are just going to go sit around her place and hope she attacks us like Connor did you and Syd?”

  “I don’t know,” Xander moaned leaning back and covering his face with his arms. His head was starting to swim and his limbs felt heavy and he was slowly relaxing even though his mind resisted the idea. “Let’s get some sleep tonight and hit the road in the morning. We can work out a plan on the way.” Leaving felt like he was running out on Syd but he didn’t know what else to do. She could be anywhere and this was their best shot. “You guys can have the bed. I’ll take the couch,” he offered.

  Shay didn’t argue because she seemed to know why he was offering it. Zak didn’t argue because he didn’t want to sleep on the couch. Xander stretched out, letting his feet hang over. It was earlier than any of them would have normally went to bed, but it would help them get on the road early tomorrow.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Sydney’s shock finally turned numb. She couldn’t feel her hands or her feet and her brain had decided to shut down. She stared straight ahead, past Doc’s head and out the window over the kitchen sink. All she could see were the bright green, early bloom of spring leaves. She forced herself to take a deep calming breath. “What did you do?”

  “Andrew and I both wanted more information. But we didn’t know how to study something that died outside of its casing. And we didn’t know how to get them back to the States. Not with the way we were being watched. We felt in the interest of science, it was our duty to learn all we could before another ignorant Colombian stole our specimens.”

  Doc sat down and grabbed a banana from a bowl on his side of the counter. He held the bowl out to her and she shook her head. Sydney was pretty sure she’d never be able to eat again. “We couldn’t learn a lot just from looking at it. So we decided we would try to implant it in a host.”

  Sydney stared at him with her eyes wide. She was surprised she could still be shocked, “You just decided to try to infect someone?” What kind of psycho makes that kind of leap? Who thinks that is a rational idea? Stupid question—obviously this kind of psycho.

  “Andrew and I decided it was our duty. We were looking at a whole new life form. The Colombians would have either destroyed them or used them for some kind of nefarious purposes. We tried to tell our university about the specimens but they disregarded us. Accused us of lying and trying to fabricate stories for fame.”

  Again, Sydney wondered what the hell Doc and this Andrew had done to garner such a lack of regard from their peers. “So, you just infected some stranger?” she asked, her voice perfectly emotionless.

  “No, no. You never start with human trials. There were lots of dogs that hung around the dig. They were mostly feral but some of the locals had taken a liking to them and fed them so they were always around. We stuck one of the spores into a piece of meat and fed it to one of the dogs.”

  “What happened?” Sydney asked in a dry, flat voice.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Not a thing. Apparently, this wasn’t the method of transmission. The stomach acids must have broken down the casing and the specimen was dissolved.”

  “So, what then?”

  “We decided the implantation must need to b
e direct like the Glyptapanteles—an endoparasitoid wasp. It lays its larvae directly into the body of caterpillars. Eventually, the larvae eat their way out of the caterpillar. And the whole time, the caterpillar serves as a protector of the pupae and neglects its own life in the process.”

  “That sounds terrible.”

  “Well, it certainly is, for the caterpillar,” Doc chuckled. Sydney glared at him but he was too focused on his banana to notice.

  “Anyway,” Doc continued. “We lured one of the friendlier dogs close enough to catch it with a makeshift catch-pole. We wrapped a shirt about its muzzle so it couldn’t bite and held it down. Getting the spore in there was harder than we anticipated. But we made an incision in its temple and managed to insert the spore with the help of some of the digging picks.”

  Sydney stared at Doc, this man had no compassion or empathy. “What happened to the dog?”

  “We managed to clean it up. We kept it tied outside our tents. Some of the locals weren’t too happy even though they didn’t know what we had done. They kept away from us though. The dog seemed normal for a while but about a month after the implantation the dog’s behavior changed. It seemed ill and in pain. Some people thought it had contracted rabies and wanted to put it down. It bled from its eyes, ears and nose. Eventually, it stopped eating and spiked a fever. Three days later, the dog died. We didn’t have great equipment for a necropsy but we did the best we could.” Sydney shuddered.

  “We opened the skull we found the spore casing was gone and so was the larvae. It had grown into its pupae stage, or had at least started to. But it was also dead.”

  “What did it look like?” her voice was hollow.

  Doc thought about it for a moment. “Almost octopus like. There was a center mass with six, super thin appendages branching off. The arms had begun to embed themselves into the dog's brain before it died.”