Lost Time (The Bridge Sequence Book Two)

by Nathan Hystad

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “Didn’t you two have a little thing going on? Maybe you should flirt with her, stop being so professional and cold,” Tripp said.

  Veronica watched me from the kitchen, peeking over her coffee cup as she drank from it.

  “We didn’t have a thing… and now that I know she was the Sovereign this entire time, I understand her motives better. She worked relentlessly to get me to teach at her school, then on trying to know me on a personal level. It was all part of their plan.” I sighed. For a moment, I’d thought the woman was interested in me, but it had felt so distant, and in the midst of my personal crisis, it didn’t matter anymore.

  “They sure wanted that Bridge,” Dirk said. “I assume Saul took the Case and Tokens with him?”

  I hadn’t brought it up before, mostly because I didn’t trust him or Clay with the Bridge. Now that my father had explained why he was so anxious to return, it made sense why. “I have it here.”

  Lugging around the Case and Tokens wasn’t a great idea, and having them on hand in Boulder had been even worse, but with few people to trust, it was all I could do.

  Saul was dead. I took a moment, fingers hovering over the laptop’s keyboard, and let it sink in. These four men had been a team. Clay, Dirk, Saul, and Brian, each with the Promissa Terra tattoo inked on their bodies.

  “Dad, is Rimia the Promised Land?”

  Dirk stopped what he was doing in the fridge, and stared at me. “From what I can tell, it’s not. At least, not anymore.”

  “What about the second Bridge? Will that take us there?” Marcus asked.

  “Maybe. We can only hope.”

  “Hope doesn’t get you anywhere,” Tripp said. “It’s too close to having a belief system. I’ve always just done, rather than hoped.”

  “Then let’s do this.” I focused on the email, deleting what I had.

  Jessica,

  I’ve missed you. I’ve been in town for a week, wondering if I should ask you out to dinner. I want to return to the school to teach, but after my near-death experience during the robbery, my priorities have changed. I’ve been reconsidering my relationships, and I’m wondering if you feel the same way too. I should really do this in person. Can we meet up? Maybe at the school so I can gather my things, followed by dinner?

  Rex

  I spoke out loud while I typed, and Veronica came over, proofing it for me. “Sounds pretty desperate,” she joked. “You going to go buy a ring?”

  “Someone’s jealous,” I retorted.

  Marcus groaned. “Can you two flirt in private, please?”

  “No, this is better,” Veronica said. “I actually believe the words, but if she has any inkling that you were in Colorado, she’ll see right through this. You’ll be walking into a trap.”

  “I don’t care. I’ll distract her long enough for you to scour her home. If she’s back in town, she’ll have the Token with her. We screwed up her plans, but she’ll need to regroup.” I scanned her minor changes and hit send. “If anyone did spot me before, I’m a dead man.”

  “Then let’s think of another option. We tail her and check the house when she’s away.”

  I wasn’t going to let anyone change my mind. “It’s the best chance that she’ll come to Boston. If I don’t entice her into town, she’ll probably stay out until the Objects arrive.”

  “Good point,” Marcus said. “I wish I could go instead of you.”

  “You’ve had a go as undercover mole, and it almost got you sacrificed. It’s my turn.” I patted his back and went to close the computer. The message chimed before I shut it. “She responded.”

  “Are you going to read it?” Evan asked. He’d been staying neutral, investigating if he could find a trusted source near Boston.

  “Rex, I’ve been waiting for you to reach out. I’m glad you’re doing better, and I’d hoped that spark between us wasn’t fake. Come to the college on Wednesday night at seven. I’ll make reservations at my favorite French restaurant afterwards.” I glanced at Tripp. “She doesn’t sound threatening.”

  “You can’t do this,” Marcus pleaded. “You saw what she was capable of.”

  “Then we’ll both know where we stand. Besides, you won’t have it any easier.” I stood, getting Evan’s attention. “Gather your team together?”

  “I have three agents willing to lend a hand. They’re close friends, and I went to Quantico with two of them,” Evan said. “We’re golden. It’s off the books.”

  “Good, because I have a feeling they’ll be waiting for us.” A noise echoed from down the hall, and I looked around, seeing we were all here, except Clayton. I ran for the room, swinging the door open. Clayton’s face was drenched in sweat, and I spied a pillow on the floor.

  “Bring my daughter,” he managed.

  A second later, Veronica rushed to his bedside. Clayton’s skin was covered with a red rash.

  “Dad, are you having an allergic reaction?” Veronica asked.

  “Toolkon eeres reilio.” His eyes were wide, and I noticed they were dark blue, no longer brown. He clutched the bedding and screamed out, veins on his forehead throbbing before he went slack, falling to the bed with a thud.

  “Dad!” Veronica had a palm on his forehead, and she pulled his sweat-soaked covers off.

  When he opened his eyes, they were brown again. “Ronnie, I fought it. I felt the change.”

  “The change?” She stared at me, then at Dirk by the doorway. “What do you know, Dirk?”

  “Your father has been experiencing visits from another being for the last few years. It started out slowly but grew in intensity.” Dirk walked over to Clay, taking the man’s hand for a second before stepping to the side.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “He asked me not to. He wanted to fend off the intruder and had been doing a good job, but—”

  “They’re closer now. They’re going to do this to all of us, aren’t they? Take over our brains?” Veronica asked.

  “That’s what we think,” Dirk answered.

  “Don’t let them in,” Clay said. His arm stretched out, holding his daughter’s wrist. “We’re all going to die. Don’t you see that? You should have left us… there.” His breaths were coming shallow and labored, spittle falling down his chin.

  “Someone call an ambulance!” Veronica shouted.

  Clay shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ronnie. I’m…” His breath caught, and capillaries burst in his eyes, giving the impression they were bleeding. Clayton’s head fell over as he slumped to the mattress. She cried out, trying to revive him with CPR. I waited to the side, looking in horror as she clung to her dead father. All these years of not knowing what had happened to him, and she finally had him back, only to watch him die. His eyes were the proper color as they gazed posthumously at his daughter. I was glad he’d died as himself.

  We stood there in shock. Dirk was on the other side of the bed, unabashed tears falling over his cheeks. He held Veronica, stroking her hair, and I saw Bev with her arms around her children in the hallway.

  Eventually, most of us gave Veronica some privacy, but I stayed after Dirk was the last one to leave.

  “I’m sorry, Ronnie.”

  She glanced up with raw eyes and the darkest expression I’d ever seen cross a person’s face. “I hate them. Get that Token, Rex, because I’m going to kill every single Unknown.”

  ____________

  Rimia: Day 1,943

  Dirk dreamed of the man again. His deplorable behavior was escalating. The vision had started off as normal as you could expect. The man was a banker, an investment manager, and had grown extremely wealthy over the years. At first, he’d felt the love in the man’s heart when he saw his family. His beautiful wife had borne him a child. A son. He’d been so proud.

  Five years later, he despised them. The idea of returning home every night sickened his spirit. He went to more clandestine meetings with the other cult members and initiated an affair with a
business partner. They weren’t in love, but Dirk felt their connection. They were both into dark things, and being part of the Believers connected them in a way his real wife could never understand.

  Dirk woke, feeling dirty for the nightmares and also guilty because he’d left his own wife and children to sleep in the arms of another woman. Perhaps he was being shown these dreams because he was no better than the French banker.

  Clayton was already up, wiping his glasses on his shirt. “I think we should check the northern quadrant again today.” He seemed to sense Dirk was awake without looking.

  “Sure.” Dirk was tired of searching for the Token and was positive it was nowhere near the city. After returning almost two years ago, they’d been banished from the Wanderers’ village. Opor claimed to have done everything in her power to allow them to rejoin the clan, but she’d been voted down almost unanimously. Dirk was crestfallen, and he’d contemplated begging her to end his life.

  But Clayton was okay with it. He’d said they were holding them back, and that the world needed the Token. Dirk could tell the being was clinging to his mind, whispering things to him, trying to convince his friend that there was no need to enter the second Bridge. He heard them speaking at night, Clayton in the corner of the room on his bedding, muttering in the dark. It was unnerving at first, but like everything since they’d crossed the Bridge, Dirk had grown used to his new reality.

  So they spent their days combing the city. The place was miraculous. It was difficult to navigate because the towers rarely used stairs, opting for versions of elevators. Of course, with no source of power, that made climbing through the structures a challenging task.

  During the early months, Dirk had injured his wrist and sprained his ankle, not to mention the countless contusions and abrasions. Clayton fared better somehow, even though Dirk always considered himself the more athletic of the duo.

  Dirk followed Clayton to the northern quadrant, and they spent ten hours rummaging through the ruins before marking off their hand-drawn map. There was still some of the city to go, but not a lot. Clayton wanted to expand the search field, but Dirk thought it was pointless. He didn’t bother telling his partner his opinion.

  When Clayton fell asleep that night, Dirk wanted to stay up, not willing to dream another man’s life quite yet. He made for the village, wishing to see how they were faring—from a distance.

  When he approached, the moons were high and bright. He smelled the smoke before he saw the flames. Three pyres burned as the carcasses were pushed into the body of water. More deaths in the village. They were dying off but were too close to the problem to understand they needed to find a solution before they were all deceased. Or perhaps they were content with their scenario. They believed they would join their Wanderer ancestors and merge with others out there in dream states.

  Dirk watched from as close as he dared. Opor stood facing the water, with the others observing along with her. She was proud, so strong. He missed her.

  Dirk returned toward the city, leaving the village he longed for behind. The dome sat a mile or so away, and he stared at it, knowing in his heart that the Token they sought was not on Rimia, but on Earth, where the rest of the Tokens had been.

  He needed to go home. Clayton was asleep, and Dirk shook him awake.

  “Something wrong?” Clay asked.

  “Yes. Very much so. Clay, we’re going to sleep in the dome every night from now on. I have a feeling we’ll be home soon.”

  “How do you know?” Clay started to gather his things, the moonlight through the window lighting his way.

  “Call it a hunch,” Dirk said, smiling at his friend.

  “You’re rarely wrong about this kind of thing. I hope the streak continues,” Clay said. He was particularly lucid, and that was another sign that this was the right decision.

  Dirk didn’t have many possessions: just the clothes on his back and a couple of spare sets of leather garb from their time among the Wanderers. His trapping gear, knife, compass, and rudimentary tools were piled in his worn duffel bag, and he slung it over his shoulder, watching the dome as they marched toward it in the cool night.

  “We’re going to come home, son,” he whispered, feeling the connection to Rex even from this distance.

  10

  The drive to Boston was sobering. Veronica was in a trance after losing her father, and I asked Bev to contact Sleepy Grove Cemetery in her hometown. She found the company that dug the graves and called them, speaking to the operator directly. For a cash price, she asked that they swap coffins. She pretended to be Clayton’s daughter and spun a tale of finally having money to upgrade a coffin to something befitting her father’s legacy.

  Somehow it worked, and that was where we were headed. Tripp drove the truck that had Clayton wrapped in a blanket and tarp in the bed, and Veronica had demanded to go in that vehicle. I imagined him being pulled over with the body of a man that had been declared dead in 1989 bundled in the back. That might be a confusing one to explain.

  Evan drove the van, and Marcus, Bev, Edith, and Carson were with us. We were making great time driving nearly the full distance of the country since we’d begun this second adventure, but it was tough to fly with corpses and guns, so we made do.

  “Mind turning the radio on?” Marcus asked, and I obliged, skipping past a few pop stations.

  “Stop here.” I listened, and almost turned it again.

  “For those of you just joining us, we’re on a special extended edition of Across This Great Nation with Bill McReary. I’m Bill, and we’re discussing the thing on everyone’s mind: the Objects.

  “I know we had fun with the topic in the early days, not truly expecting them to be a real concern. But here we are, two months later, and I’ve begun questioning everything in my life. Some of our guests have found God, and are searching for His rationale for what is heading our way. Others have blamed the fact we can’t seem to stop griping and fighting over our planet’s resources. Many wish the Objects would disappear, to cruise past like inanimate bodies of rock and prove the scientific community wrong, but from what we know today, that is not going to happen.

  “What has most of us baffled is the bizarre government reactions to it all. Some nations are ready to defend their people with tanks, military, and air forces. Others are remaining silent, while their people panic in the streets. Our own great nation is the most complicated of all. The President has not been seen or heard from in days. His family is non-responsive, and all social media and connections to them are dark. The Vice President has stated his position, and recently disappeared, according to my contacts in DC.

  “We’re taking calls to hear your thoughts on the situation.” There was a brief pause. “Caller, let’s talk.”

  “My name’s Gina, and I work out of Atlanta International. Lots of chatter trickling down to the floor here, Bill.”

  “What have you heard, Gina?” Bill asked.

  “Sounds like planes are being grounded. Things are becoming hectic up in here. Everyone’s trying to get home. This place is a zoo on a regular day. Think I’ll call in sick,” Gina told him.

  “Marcus, can you book us flights?” I glanced at the younger man, and he already had his tablet ready, working on it.

  “For when?”

  “Wait a damned minute, Rex.” Evan took his eyes off the road to look at me. “You can’t be seriously considering leaving the country!”

  “Why not? We have to fly to Portugal,” I told him.

  On the radio, the conversation continued. We heard the tail end of Bill’s question. “…explanation to why they’re grounding flights?”

  “No one’s saying it, but these aliens are disrupting everything. My cousin said the military wants the skies open so they don’t risk shooting down a passenger plane. I think we’re about to see some fireworks, and well before the Fourth of July,” Gina said.

  “Rex, when do you want to fly?” Marcus asked.

  I rubbed my forehead, trying to decide.
If they were grounding air traffic, they’d probably give us a day or two, letting some people make it home first. I checked the time. It was Wednesday at ten in the morning, and I was scheduled to meet Jessica at the college in nine hours. We were two hours from the cemetery, meaning we were cutting it close. “Tomorrow morning. Six or seven AM.”

  “Where will we go?” Bev asked. “Are you abandoning us again?”

  I looked past Marcus to my sister and her kids. The little ones were so frightened, and Edith’s thumb was thrust into her mouth, a habit she hadn’t done in years. “You’re staying at Hunter’s place on the coast. It’s secure.”

  “But we’re going to be alone,” she said. “Are you leaving me a gun?”

  “Evan, any chance you can convince one of these trusted allies of yours to stick with my sister until we’re back?” I asked.

  “Jeez, Rex. Things are going to be kind of hectic once the world realizes these really are aliens coming to visit,” Evan said apologetically. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Evan, you coming with us?” Marcus asked.

  “I can’t. I’ll stay here, keep an eye on the Believers. I’m already getting my ass chewed out by the Deputy Director. If he learns I left the country, my career is over.” Evan signaled, passing a dirty semi-trailer.

  “All right, flights booked for five of us,” Marcus said.

  We’d begun this journey with Hunter and had lost him to the Believers. Since then, we’d added Saul to the team, and he’d sacrificed himself. Clayton’s death was a bit of a mystery, but Dad suspected he’d been killed by the being in his mind, not the injuries he’d received from the cultists. I bet it was a combination of both.

  Three of our closest allies had been killed, along with Richard Klein, my mentor and friend. This entire operation had shifted from fun and exciting to dangerous and deadly, and it was only going to become far worse if we didn’t secure the Token.

  I shook my head as I remembered Castro was dead too, as well as the guides from Madagascar, Haja and Hasin. I glanced at each of the people in our van, wondering how many of us would fall victim before the end of the month.