by Rix, Dan
My fears weren’t unfounded.
The rest of us were going to school in California, but Annapolis was in Maryland.
Who was I kidding? We weren’t going to stay friends after summer. Maybe I’d stay friends with Vincent—there was a chance he’d end up at UCLA in two years—and maybe I’d stay friends with Zoe, but not Malcolm. Malcolm was going to become a Marine Corps officer.
Me, I would go to college and get a boring job and struggle, for the rest of my life, to keep my head above water.
After summer, our paths would diverge, never to intersect again.
These months of endless sun and lounging by the river and pretending I didn’t have a crush on him would fade into memory, until years from now, when I was married and practicing law or something, I would realize they had been the best months of my life.
There was something hauntingly sad about that.
Wow, summer wasn’t even over, and I was already nostalgic about it.
“What made you decide to take the Oath of Office?” asked officer Schapiro, still focused on Malcolm.
“My dad was a Marine. Killed in action.”
“Well, I’m sure he’d be damn proud of you—”
“We’re coming up on the spot,” Malcolm interrupted, cutting the conversation short. “It’s just around this bend—whoa . . .”
What came into view wasn’t the blind curve we’d driven off.
I jerked forward in my seat to get a better look, and my jaw fell open.
Blocking all through traffic, a barricade had been set up across the highway, manned by armed soldiers with machine guns, backed with a pair of military Humvees. Beyond them idled a half dozen utility trucks, each mounted with a huge radar dish, weathervanes, and an array of antennas and instruments. Lettering on the side of one read Rapid-Scan DOW, which meant nothing to me.
Spewing out white exhaust, an enormous diesel generator rumbled at the cliff’s edge, from which thick power cables snaked down into the ravine.
None of this had been here yesterday.
One of the soldiers stepped forward and rapped on the glass with gloved knuckles, and next to me, Zoe tensed up.
Officer Schapiro lowered his window. “The hell is all this hullabaloo—?”
“You’re going to have to turn around.” The soldier twirled his finger and pointed back the way we came. “We’ve had a landslide. Road’s impassable beyond this point.”
“I’ll take my chances.” Schapiro flashed his badge. “Trinity County Sheriff’s Department. I’m investigating a missing person, last seen around here.”
I fought a smile.
Being passengers in a police car, we had special privileges.
But then the soldier shook his head. “Sorry, we’re not allowing any vehicles through. You have to turn around.”
“Wait, who’s we?” Our cop squinted toward one of the trucks and read off, “Center for Severe Weather Research? Who the hell are you guys? I didn’t hear anything about you being up here.”
“Landslide, my ass,” Malcolm muttered.
“Sir, you have to turn around,” repeated the soldier in a deadpan, twirling his finger again.
“Who’s your boss? Let me talk to your boss.”
Before the soldier could respond, a man in a black suit emerged from a large mobile office and approached our car. “I’ll handle this, guys.”
He leaned in our window, peering around at the four of us before his gaze settled on Schapiro. “You with the Sheriff’s Department?”
“Yeah, and who the hell are you? This is my highway you’re on.”
“We’ve already spoken to your sheriff,” said the man, “so by all means, call him. This isn’t Trinity County jurisdiction anymore . . . this is the jurisdiction of the Defense Department now.”
“Like the man said”—Jace skipped a smooth stone out into the river, scattering water bugs and leaving a trail of widening ripples—“it’s a real doozy.”
“Defense Department’s involved . . . why is the Defense Department involved? Because whatever’s out there,” pacing on the sandy bank, Malcolm thrust his finger toward the distant hum of their diesel generator, “whatever’s in those woods, whatever took Vincent, is a national security threat.”
Even in the scalding sun, goosebumps formed down my arms. “Well, at least now we know we’re not crazy,” I said, rubbing my shoulders. “I mean, did you see all that equipment they had?”
I couldn’t shake the sight of all those military personnel, all those radar dishes.
It was no coincidence.
That region of Ridgeview Drive . . . it was right where we saw the flash, right where Malcolm saw ape-man.
Right where Vincent disappeared.
I’d felt something there earlier, too. That nagging sense of wrongness. Like everything in those woods was slightly off somehow.
What had they discovered there?
It chilled me just thinking about it.
“You think they found our car?” Zoe asked.
“They don’t give a dick about our car,” Malcolm spat. “They’re observing something . . . some sort of phenomenon.”
After officer Craig Schapiro had dropped us off—he’d promised to look into Vincent’s disappearance for us but warned he couldn’t guarantee anything—we’d driven back to this spot, which was just downriver from our crash site, hoping to catch a glimpse of what they were doing across the ravine.
Except we couldn’t see them from here.
Still, the trip wasn’t a complete loss.
Just off Ridgeview Drive, this looked to be an old campsite, with a rusted barbecue grill and a weather-worn picnic table. Zoe and I sat on a boulder perched over a shallow inlet off the river, where the water was crystal clear and looked perfect for cooling off from the hot sun.
No one was in the mood for a swim, though.
But as soon as we found Vincent, we’d come back here and have a barbecue. A real barbecue, with chips and guacamole and hot dogs and burgers while we played three flags up in the river. Then we’d stumble back to Jace’s house, sunburnt and drunk off the heat, and collapse in a dogpile in front of some stupid comedy, and somehow, part of me would end up on Malcolm’s lap, and he wouldn’t move me, and I would notice, because he always moved Zoe, and for the rest of the movie I’d be so insanely self-conscious of where we were touching I wouldn’t catch a single second of it.
An uncomfortable lump rose in my throat.
With Vincent missing and Malcolm leaving for Annapolis in two weeks, it seemed like those perfect days would never happen again.
Jace flung another rock into the river.
The splash sent up a spray of mist, which sparkled down around us.
As it did, I caught sight of something else twinkling on the horizon—the accelerator ring of the distant Shasta-Trinity Supercollider, catching the angle of the sun just right.
This was where the river used to empty out into a once enormous lake, some millennia ago, but at some point it had drained through an underground cave and the lake had dried up, leaving the river flowing lazily along the edge. Beyond where the opposite bank dropped away, a sliver of that vast lakebed rippled in the summer heat.
From here, the complex looked especially close.
Just a hike across that lakebed.
“You guys think they have anything to do with the collider?” I asked. “All those personnel? I mean, they looked like scientists. The ones behind the barricade, at least.”
“That’d be my bet,” said Malcolm.
“Yeah, probably,” said Jace.
“Oh my God, that’s what I’ve been saying this whole time,” said Zoe irritably, “that it has to do with Vincent’s accident, but you guys were like, ‘Nooo, you’re stupid, Zoe,’ but now that Remi says it, it’s suddenly brilliant. Wow.”
Coming out of left field, her comment stung, and I reacted defensively. “I’m not talking about Vincent’s accident, I’m talking about the collider itself.”
“Oh, shut up,” she grumbled.
“Your idea wasn’t stupid, Zo,” said Jace. “It was just wrong.”
Suddenly, my hackles went up, because we were ganging up on her, and that was the first step to bullying.
“Guys, stop it, we’re being mean,” I said quickly. “Zoe, I’m really sorry—for the record, I thought it was a good idea. And they think my ideas are shit all the time, too.”
“Yeah, Remi’s like zero for forty,” Jace said, skipping another rock. “In fact, this is the first smart thing we’ve heard out of her in months.”
“Why do you think we were so impressed?” Malcolm deadpanned. He caught my eye, hopefully to let me know he was kidding, but I could never read behind his cryptic stare.
“See, they’re just jerks,” I said, turning away from him before my cheeks reddened.
Zoe continued to pout, but the corner of her lips quirked.
“So . . . no more bullying,” I warned the group, in what I hoped was a threatening tone. “Ever. If anyone gangs up on anyone else, I’ll cut them.”
Jace gave a low whistle. “Do not piss off mother bear.”
“Yeah, don’t,” I said. “I’m serious about this.”
We lapsed into silence.
I knew I’d killed the buzz, but someone had to stand up for this kind of stuff. Or else no one would.
I’d been on the other side. I’d been the bully, and I understood. It was hard to stop once you got going. The camaraderie you felt with your friends, one-upping each other, saying meaner and meaner things, seeing who would go to the furthest, being part of the in crowd, it was a thrill.
Me, I always used to go the furthest.
You get in this state where you don’t even care about their emotions. And you can say some awful things when you’re in that state.
Then you win the game.
Your friends can’t top you, they don’t have the guts. And then they respect you, they fear you a little.
You always feel dirty afterward, like you’ve sold out. Like it wasn’t strength that made you say it, but weakness. You feel weak.
No, it’s standing up to bullying that takes strength.
“Do you guys think it’s Bigfoot?” Zoe said. “You guys said you saw an apelike thing, right?”
Jace paused, a rock cocked back for another skip.
“Good a guess as any,” he said, before releasing it.
“Bigfoot leaves footprints,” said Malcolm.
“Nor is he accompanied by bright lights,” I said, “and nor does he knock out electronics, or cause crazy buildups of static electricity, or erase hours of our memory—but that was a really good idea, Zoe.”
“Okay, you don’t have to treat me like I’m five,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I know it was a stupid idea.”
“Hey, she’s bullying herself!” Jace said. “Remi, cut her.”
I gave him a withering look that shut him up.
I could already tell what I’d said about bullying would be used as a joke at every opportunity from now on.
Skipping another rock, Jace nodded off toward the Shasta-Trinity complex, “Wonder if they’re researching some kind of effect caused by the supercollider.”
“I really thought they closed that place down,” said Zoe.
“No, see, that’s what they want you to think,” said Jace, “because it’s top secret. It’s like an Area 51.”
“The lights were on the night we crashed,” Malcolm said.
I scooted forward on the boulder, leaning out so I could peer farther downstream. “Is there any way to get across the river?”
“There’s that footbridge a couple miles down.” Malcolm hopped up onto the boulder next to me, gazing out toward the glimmering accelerator ring. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Uh . . . probably not. What are you thinking?”
“It’s time we paid it a little visit.”
“The collider?” I said. “Are you crazy?”
“Think about it,” he said. “Two days after Vincent vanishes, a bunch of scientists from the supercollider are milling around where he was last seen. That’s one big coincidence.”
“Guys, we’re not positive they’re from the supercollider,” Zoe said.
“Tonight,” Malcolm said. “When it’s dark. We’ll hike out across the lake bed.”
Except I was pretty sure that was a high-security restricted area, with barbed wire fence around it for miles.
“Aren’t you, like, not supposed to get in trouble right now?” I said. “You know, your oath.”
“When I take the oath, I defend the Constitution . . . until then, I defend my friends. You in, or you out?”
“I’m out,” said Zoe.
“I’m in,” said Jace.
Malcolm raised an eyebrow at me, a dare glimmering at the back of his eyes.
I took a deep breath, feeling a nervous flutter in my lungs. Well, if there was any chance it could help us find Vincent, any chance at all, then I would do it.
More than that, I wanted Malcolm to think I was brave . . . I wanted to take his dare.
“I’m in,” I said finally. “But we’re not doing anything that could get us arrested.”
“Well, fine,” Zoe grumbled. “Then I’m in too.”
“Sun’s setting soon.” Malcolm studied me a moment longer, looking, of all things, pleased—which made me all warm inside. “We’ll need flashlights. Let’s go.”
But as we headed back to Malcolm’s convertible, my excited little bubble popped and my stomach began tying itself in knots.
We were going to sneak into the Shasta-Trinity Supercollider complex. At night. Because of Malcolm.
Because he was a bad influence, and around him, my hormones went haywire and all my cool, rational judgment flew right out the window. Just like always.
Was I insane?
Maybe my dad was right to warn me about him—
Jace halted in front of me and in a spooked voice said, “Guys, I just realized . . . what if it is like an Area 51?”
We all stared at him.
“It fits all the clues.” He started counting off on his fingers. “We saw a bright flash, Malcolm saw a being standing by the road, we’re missing eight hours of our lives. Even Vincent’s footprints, like he was pulled up into the air . . . and then how no one remembers him, as if the whole town had its memory of him wiped. It fits everything. Now they’ve got atmospheric scientists, and the military’s guarding the site, and there’s men in black suits . . .” Seeing our blank looks, he continued, “Area 51, guys . . . UFOs . . . it’s a textbook case. A textbook case. It’s exactly what they always say on the internet.”
“A textbook case of . . . of what?” I asked, fighting a rising chill.
“That flash we saw that night,” he continued in a low voice, “what if it was a UFO? What if it was landing, or crash-landing? And those lights we saw at the complex were some sort of beacon . . . and Vincent . . . Vincent was . . .”
Zoe gasped and clamped her hand over her mouth.
“Abducted by aliens,” Malcolm finished, nodding grimly.
When I shined my flashlight behind me, I could no longer see the footbridge we’d crossed, just three hundred and sixty degrees of parched desert stretching into the darkness. Compared to the lush forest across the river, the dry lakebed was a barren landscape. Even the clumps of saltbrush had tapered off, leaving only sheets of cracked clay, crunching beneath our feet. Not a blade of grass for miles.
I shuddered and hurried to catch up with Malcolm’s and Jace’s bobbing flashlights, not wanting to fall behind.
Abducted by aliens.
It was a terrifying concept, and I’d gone the rest of the day with a hard lump of fear at the base my throat.
I imagined them to be lanky and tall, nine or ten feet, with mottled gray skin and insectlike eyes and huge mouths that opened in four flaps to reveal rows and rows of teeth dripping stra
nds of mucous.
Another shiver worked under my skin.
No, I refused to believe it—even if it did fit an awful lot of the clues.
“So why do we remember Vincent, if no one else does?” Zoe asked, still grilling Jace on his alien abduction theory.
“Because we were right under the UFO when it happened,” said Jace. “The alien sent out a psychic field to erase everything about Vincent—his room, his photos, people’s memories of him—but it created a bubble of protection around itself, and we were in that bubble.”
“Quit talking out of your ass, Jace,” Malcolm said.
“Look, I don’t know everything,” said Jace. “But there’s probably a reason our memories didn’t get erased.”
I glanced up, clicking off my flashlight to allow my night vision to take over. Not even a plane twinkled in the night sky. Just cold, lifeless stars.
Yep. No UFOs.
From out of the night a scuffle reached my ears, and I tensed up.
I fumbled with my flashlight’s switch, blinding myself for a moment, and swung it toward the sound.
The beam barely pushed back the gloom, illuminating only a few feet of parched earth.
Probably a lizard or a gopher.
Out here, on a night with no moon, there was only inky blackness beyond our circle. We might as well be underwater.
Anything could be lurking out there.
I pointed my light behind me again, just to check, and the hairs on my forearms bristled.
A hundred feet back, the beam sank into pitch blackness. Nothing but dry lakebed.
I really wished I could see the footbridge, or Malcolm’s car.
For some reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being followed . . . that there was something just beyond the reach of the beam.
I shuddered and faced forward again.
“You know why your theory makes no sense?” I said, jogging up beside Jace. “Because if it’s true, wouldn’t it be easier to just add Vincent to our memories rather than erase him from the entire town’s? As in, what proof do we have that he ever existed at all?”
That shut them up.