Lost Time (The Bridge Sequence Book Two)

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Lost Time (The Bridge Sequence Book Two) Page 14

by Nathan Hystad


  “And the actual meeting? Where’s that?” Saul asked, flipping the lanyard and badge around in his fingers. There was no name, just a number.

  “Place in the Rockies. Long’s Peak. Haven’t you seen it before?” Grayson asked.

  Saul started walking away, and I stepped beside Veronica. “No, Grayson. I haven’t.” I hadn’t noticed Saul grabbing his gun, but he spun, firing once at the cultist. The shot hit him square in the chest, and he gasped a few times, sliding down the wall. While the man was still breathing, Saul reached into his jeans pockets, grabbing a cell phone. Grayson clutched weakly at his wrist, and Saul slapped the man’s hand.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Veronica shouted.

  “Yes, I did. Come on. We have to check out the basement.” He passed her the badge, and she took it while staring at the dead man.

  I stepped over Grayson and turned the lights on. This was the room with the artifacts, but they’d all been removed from the cabinets. Most of them had no names attached to their display cases, but there was one empty circular shape recessed into a wooden frame. I touched the case. “This was it.”

  “There was blood.” Veronica pointed at the floor, where it had been recently bleached. I could still smell it.

  I tried to imagine Tripp inside this room, getting eyes on the prize. “The blood’s probably from one of theirs.”

  We hurried from the room and past Grayson, who was no longer breathing. Saul had killed both of them without any indication of guilt, but I supposed I’d done the same recently. I was turning into someone different, a cold and hardened man I barely recognized. We were in a war, and with so much at stake, I had to be strong.

  Saul and Evan were at the front door, and I retrieved the book Sonja had been reading from the floor where I’d tossed it. Instead of leaving, Saul ran us around to the rear of the house. So far, no cars were coming to their rescue. From the sounds of it, Sonja and Grayson were the last ones remaining at the Palm Springs home, with everyone else traveling to Colorado.

  The house’s exterior stretched far, and we dashed across a trail next to an arid garden on the left of the home. The lush green grass of the front yard gave way to the more sensible cacti and desert landscape most people favored here. Saul had grabbed the battering ram again, and he ran down a flight of stairs leading to a basement door. He wasted no time in bashing it open, and he dropped the tool with a clang, pulling his gun in a fluid motion as he entered the dark space. A second later, the lights turned on, and we looked around to find regular household supplies stacked on metal racking.

  “A storeroom?” Veronica asked.

  “That’s what they want you to think.” Saul slid an empty rack aside and straightened up, grabbing a hidden handhold in the wall. The door swung outward, and I knew what we were looking at.

  A chair sat in the center of the room, with a single Edison bulb hanging from a wire. There was blood on the floor and chains on the wall. Evan was the first to enter, and he walked through the torture chamber with disgust on his face. “We have to stop them.”

  “Damn right we do,” Saul said. “I think they brought our friends to Colorado. They’ve relocated the Token.”

  “They didn’t know what it was,” I suggested.

  “They might now. There aren’t many able to withstand this kind of punishment.” Saul glanced at me, and his harsh expression melted into worry for his old pals.

  I tried not to think of my father in that chair, being grilled about the Token and why they’d broken into this house. Suddenly, my stomach was queasy, and I turned around, running outside. I bent over the garden, hands on my knees, trying to throw up, but nothing happened. I wiped at my mouth as the others gathered at the steps, and took a big inhale of the fresh night air. A coyote howled in the distance, followed by a choir echo from the rest of the pack.

  Veronica waited for me to catch up. “We’re going to find them. The Token too.”

  For the first time since we’d launched this entire operation, I felt like our goals had become impossible feats.

  3

  “I want to come too,” Bev said as we packed up the van.

  I zipped my bag up. “You know you can’t.”

  “Dammit, Rex, you’re exactly like him. Making women sit on the sidelines like he did with Mom. I can help!”

  “And the kids? You want me to bring them into danger with us? You’ve all been through too much, and they deserve to be safe.”

  “Rex, don’t fight me on this. We’ll stay out of the way when the real danger comes, but I can help. I’ll be a link in communication. Dad sent me the Token, remember? He wanted me to be involved,” she said.

  She had a good point, but it was too risky with the kids.

  Saul poked his head into the room. “We’ll make sure nothing happens to them.”

  And with Saul’s suggestion, Bev’s goals had been met. She grinned at me like she’d won a contest, and rushed off to gather the kids’ meager possessions.

  I could only go along with it. I understood Beverly’s frustration. She’d shot her own husband. Fred had only married her to keep an eye on me, Rexford Walker, the target sure to lead them to the Bridge. I’d almost done that too. If I was relegated to the sidelines, I would have been champing at the bit to join.

  Bev had always been a strong-willed person, ever since we were kids, and for years, she was the one I’d call when I had a problem that felt too large to tackle on my own. When Mom got sick, she was the rock. When she died, Bev took care of everything, because I wasn’t around to deal with it. She was my older sister, and someone I’d grown to depend on.

  “Ready?” Veronica asked as I dropped my duffel bag near the door.

  “You bet.” In truth, I was terrified of what was coming. A huge meeting of the Believers in a mountain range didn’t sound like a simple search and rescue mission. It was going to take a lot of planning, cunning, and bravery. At this moment, I didn’t feel up to the challenge.

  But I looked around the room, seeing Veronica, then our new ally, Special Agent Evan Young, and the immovable Saul Goldstein, and I started to gain confidence. These were good people. Strong and ready to fight for our safety.

  Carson came out with his backpack over his shoulders, and he walked up to me. “Thank you, Uncle Rex.”

  “For what?”

  “Letting us come. Grandpa needs us,” he said.

  Grandpa. I hoped Dirk was alive. “Go put your stuff in the car.” I patted his shoulder, and he dashed off, trailing after Veronica.

  Finally, we were on the road, our piece of crap van replaced with the biggest passenger van Evan could score for a couple grand. Denver was only about sixteen hours away if we took shifts, and that was what we planned. Four of us would alternate every few hours. The big event was happening in three days, meaning we didn’t have long to settle in and get the lay of the land.

  We worked as we drove. It was midnight when we began, and traffic was almost nonexistent. Veronica and I were in the second row, with Saul taking first driving duty. Evan took the passenger seat, with Bev and the kids behind us.

  Despite the late hour, everyone seemed wide awake. Breaking into a mansion and killing people had a way of doing that. Even Carson and Edith were wired. We each had a coffee bought at a late-night drive-through before we left town, and I sipped mine as Veronica searched for accommodations.

  “There’s no vacancy. That damned tradeshow has everything booked up.” She angled her phone toward me as if to prove there were no results.

  “Don’t check Denver. I used to book trips for the company all the time. Boulder is only a half hour away.” Bev grabbed Veronica’s phone, adjusting the search parameters. “Looks busy there too, but there are a few rooms at this place.” She passed it over the seat. My sister was already demonstrating her value.

  “Book them,” Saul said. “Book as many as you can. Maybe four.”

  Evan’s face glowed from the tablet. “Give me the address when you can.”


  Veronica told him where it was. “What’s that for?”

  “I’ll buy a drone. We’ll have to scope this region out, and I don’t think us walking up to the Believers will do the trick. Let’s get some real surveillance.” Evan keyed in the hotel’s address and ordered the unit, the website promising next-day delivery.

  “Look what happens when we put our heads together,” Saul said. He was the oldest and most experienced among us. He’d given up his life to infiltrate the Believers even before my dad had vanished through the Bridge.

  “What else do we need?” Veronica asked.

  “We’re good on the ammunition front, but if this is going to work, we’ll need to blend in. I’ll duplicate those badges, and we’ll need the robes.” Saul glanced at the mirror. “I don’t suppose you can sew, Rex.”

  “I can,” Bev said. “Well enough to make the kids’ school play costumes for last year’s drama club.”

  We made a list of everything we needed, and once everyone started to drift off to sleep, I pulled the book from under the seat. The light was dim, and I used my phone, propping it on my stomach to tap the flashlight feature.

  The book had no markings on the exterior. I slid my palm over the smooth red-brown leather and opened it. The pages were old, the spine slightly worn, but it remained intact. It had a built-in satin bookmark, even though Sonja had earmarked her page. I checked the front first, not finding any copyright information. There was no listed author.

  I turned the page and began reading.

  The universe is vast. The number of stars and planets is beyond our comprehension at this point in time. It would be like trying to comprehend how many individual drops of water exist in all of our oceans, or the number of hydrogen particles in the atmosphere. We are not intended to understand this. We are workers. We don’t live for ourselves, or the people around us.

  We are Believers.

  This was a book written for the cult, possibly by someone of power within their organization. The pages appeared to be copies, not the original typed work, collated into this binding, but the lettering suggested it was old, likely from the first half of the twentieth century. I read on.

  Millions of years ago, before the great asteroid struck the surface of Earth, our predecessors ruled the planet. We do not have their name, so we call them the Unknowns. A race so powerful and intelligent, they left no signs of their existence behind—or so we thought.

  Dr. David Gunthry, an archeologist in the 1870s, uncovered what he presumed was a true ancient civilization along the Mediterranean Sea: crumbled seawalls and evidence of life where none had been discovered before. It wasn’t until divers searched the area, decades later, that the real truth was uncovered.

  The advanced structure remained intact, buried under millions of years of sediment and tidal changes. The divers reported the incident to a British magazine in hopes of gaining riches and fame, but lucky for us, a Believer was lead editor, and sent a handful of members to investigate.

  There we found the first remnant of the ancient culture, our creators, the Unknowns.

  Despite the cool air blowing from the front of the van, sweat formed on my palms as I clutched the book. They’d found confirmation of the aliens before us? I hadn’t heard any of this until now. I glanced at Saul, wondering how much he knew about this topic. He’d never elaborated on the Unknowns, claiming he didn’t know a lot beyond the usual: alien race, returning to their home, Believers want to attune with them and usher them to their place of power.

  I flipped the page and continued.

  Since then, we’ve detected another three sites where their advanced civilization once lingered. Inside these were proof of sophisticated technologies, far ahead of our current abilities.

  I wondered what that meant, compared with the 1940s or whenever this was written.

  There were Pods located in the lower levels, with archways on other floors. Symbols etched on them, insinuating teleportation chambers, or perhaps regions to assist a process we now understand to mean attuning. From each of these revelations, we have learned their language, and though we’ve found no way of communication, we do believe they will return. They say as much in the relics we’ve unearthed, and when the time comes, we will be prepared to welcome them.

  Even as I write this, we have begun learning to attune. This book will describe in great detail the method of achieving this, and once you complete your training, you will be primed for their arrival.

  I closed it and opened the volume to where Sonja had stopped reading, finding confusing instructions. We’d have to interpret this later. My mind was spinning from the strange read, and I was starting to crash after consuming the last coffee.

  Evan and Saul had already swapped spots, and the FBI agent drove on in the pitch-black night. We’d driven right through Las Vegas a couple of hours ago, and now we were on a stretch of highway in southwest Utah that had nothing for miles in any direction.

  I finally closed my eyes, knowing my turn to drive would be coming up soon.

  I was asleep. Dreams came, drifting in like smoke through a valley. My mind understood that I was in a van on the interstate, but I was also somewhere else.

  ____________

  My head ached, and I attempted to rub my pulsing lip, only to find my hands were secured tightly behind me. I tried to move my eyes, but they didn’t look where I wanted them to. Instead, they glanced to the right. The room was so dark, with a sliver of light carrying from a closed door across from me. I was on the floor, knees up, feet on the rocky ground. My back leaned into a rough wall, and my wrists throbbed at the pressure behind me.

  There were two others here with me. Even though I couldn’t control my actions, I stared at the one to my left. His face was puffy, blood welling over lacerations. The man peeked over, as if wondering why I was staring, and I nearly screamed out. It was Tripp. Finally, I peered in the other direction, and saw the second man lying on the ground. His hands were also bound, and I couldn’t see his face, but I detected the pair of glasses on the rocks a few feet from his body. They were smashed. That was Clayton.

  Dad? I tried to think, since I was unable to speak.

  Son.

  The word was fleeting, and I attempted to hold on.

  Dad, we’re coming for you. Don’t worry. We’ll be there soon!

  My eyes began to close, blocking the room from my view.

  We’re doomed. I love you, son.

  And I was gone, restored to my own body.

  ____________

  I gasped in a lungful of air, blinking my eyes repeatedly.

  “Rex, are you okay?” Veronica asked, awake from my noisy disturbance.

  My hands ached, and I could still feel my bruised mouth. “This is going to sound insane, but I saw them.”

  “Who?” Evan asked from the driver’s seat.

  “Dad. I think he can attune. He’s been doing it for years from Rimia. He reached out,” I said, but even as I told them, the realism began to fade from my mind, making me question if it had really happened or if it had just been a figment of my imagination.

  Saul had woken too, and he turned to stare at me. “What did you see?”

  “All three of them are there in a cavern. Tied up.”

  Veronica looked relieved, but I couldn’t tell her of Clayton’s unsightly condition. I didn’t even know if he was alive. Tripp had been a mess too, and judging by how I’d felt in Dirk, he wasn’t doing so hot either.

  “Then they’re alive,” Bev whispered.

  “For now.” I flipped the book in my grip, and then peered through the front windshield. Day was breaking through the dawn, and there was no way I’d fall asleep again today. “Pull over, Evan. I’ll take the wheel.”

  ____________

  Rimia: Day 952

  The entire town had gathered for the ceremony. Despite their earlier plans, Dirk had convinced Clayton not to leave for the mountains all those months ago. By his estimation, they’d been on Rimia for close to t
hree years.

  Still no sign from home. No Bridge to carry them to Earth. Three years here felt like much longer. Little Rex would be eight years old, almost nine. Bev, twelve. Rebecca, sweet Rebecca would be done mourning his loss. Would she find another man? Part of Dirk wished her to remain loyal and faithful to his memory, but that was selfish, especially since he’d become involved with Opor.

  Guilt racked him over their coupling, but it was a trying time. Despite their differences, Opor gave him more of herself than his wife ever had. She appreciated his adventurous spirit, and he loved her zest for life. She was a great hunter, and she’d shown him how to trap and gut various land animals in their vicinity, as well as how to fish with patience and assurance.

  Clayton was lost. He changed moods with the moons and was prone to spend weeks at his cabin on the edge of town, refusing any interactions. He often returned to the dome, waiting for the Bridge. He’d speak with renewed energy and high spirits, only to repeat the cycle again. Frankly, Dirk was tired of it, but Clayton was his best friend, and if it wasn’t for Dirk, he’d be at home right now, enjoying the quiet suburban life with his wife and daughter.

  He spoke of his daughter endlessly, wondering if she’d remember him when he made it home. Dirk usually played along, doubting they’d ever revisit Earth. This was their reality now. Rimia. A small village with a dying population. They didn’t reproduce fast enough to combat their life cycles, and already, since the pair of humans had arrived, their numbers had lowered.

  He’d witnessed ten funeral rites, where the bodies were burned on floating rafts shoved into the lake. They believed the spirits returned to their ancestors across the galaxies. Each of them was a touching ceremony.

  When he’d asked why only two children were born in the three years, Opor couldn’t give him a straight answer. She’d told him that was the way. That each generation appeared to produce fewer, and they didn’t know why. Dirk didn’t expect their race to survive for longer than two generations.

 

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