He went to the back door of the house in front of him and opened his CART again, this time touching three commands into the virtual console. He held the briefcase near the doorknob as three snake-like tentacles rose up from the surface and latched onto the deadbolt lock. One appendage penetrated the center of the keyway, taking only seconds for the lock to be breached. The tentacles retracted and he shut the case.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
“Yes, I’m pregnant,” Emily told Nora from the front seat of Duane’s car. “Please, don’t be mad at me. Please. I don’t think I could take that right now.”
“I’m not going to be mad at you, Em. You’re old enough to make your own decisions, and you obviously have. Besides, it’s not my place. Or Duane’s. We’re not your parents,” Nora said in a firm but consistent tone. A tone that Emily had grown to recognize as her motherly voice.
Nora drove the car out of the subdivision’s front gates and headed south.
“Thanks for understanding, Nora. I don’t know what I’d do without you and Duane. I’m so exhausted I can hardly think straight.”
“All that matters now, Em, is that you’re safe. Duane and I have been worried sick. So has Jim and I’m sure Derek has been, too.”
“Sorry I’ve been gone so long, but it couldn’t be helped. Things just happened so fast,” Emily said, putting on the clothes Nora had brought for her, including the sweatshirt. She was thankful to have something warm to wear and finished dressing in a flash.
“Warm. Me. Nora is a friend,” her baby told her in her thoughts.
Emily sent back a string of loving thoughts, ending with “Yes, darling. We’re safe now. Nora is our friend and she’d never hurt either of us.”
Emily sat back in the seat to relax. She put her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes, taking in a series of slow, deep breaths while she thought about Derek, her baby, and her friends.
She wondered how each of them were doing, especially Junie, the kleptomaniac she’d befriended in the homeless shelter. That quirky young girl was first to capture her heart, making her break one of her most important rules—never get involved, because nothing good ever comes from it.
Well something good did come from it . . . her love for Junie, Derek, and her baby. Plus there was cute little Shroedy, the incredibly soft tabby cat who seemed to follow her everywhere, even across time and space. She missed them all, even Sheldon at the library and the ex-Marine turned spec reporter, Jim Miller.
When you’re living on the streets, your entire focus is about trying to stay alive for one more day. You never really get a chance to relax and truly breathe. It felt wonderful to just sit and be—to exist in a single fragment of time without the constant threat of death hanging over your head. It felt almost as good as sex. Not quite, but almost.
The Impala came to an abrupt stop at a red light, snapping Emily’s eyes open. She looked over at Nora, who was now staring down at Emily’s bare feet.
“Damn it, I forgot shoes,” Nora said, bringing her eyes up to meet Emily’s. She took a long, penetrating look before she spoke again. “My goodness, Em. You’re a mess.”
“I know,” she said, wrapping her arms around her head to hide her hair. “I’m a total wreck right now. But it’s hard when everyone always wants a piece of me. It never ends, Nora, and now this,” she said, bringing her hands down to rub her belly. “I’m so scared all the time.”
Nora nodded, but didn’t say anything. When the light turned green, she pressed the gas, accelerating quickly around a sweeping bend in the road.
Emily’s stomach rebelled against the sudden motion of the vehicle. “Nora, can you stop the car?”
“Why?”
“Please, can you just—” Emily said, holding her left hand to her mouth while her right hand groped for the power window switch.
Nora brought the car to a halt, but she was too late: Emily had the window open, and was leaning her head and shoulders out of it, vomiting.
When Emily finished, she sat back in the seat, panting for air.
Nora reached across the dash and opened the glove compartment, taking out a thin box containing tissues. She gave it to Emily. “Take your time, child. We’re not in any hurry.”
“Thanks,” Emily said, wiping her mouth. She took a swig of the bottled water to rid her mouth of the awful taste of puke, then looked over at her friend behind the wheel.
A second later, tears started gushing from her eyes, prompting a two-armed, emotional hug from Nora.
***
Paul entered the workout room and stood by his wife, Ingrid, who was looking out the window and pointing down at the neighbor’s yard.
“Probably just some teenage prank, hon. I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said in his most sympathetic voice.
“I know what I saw, and it was real,” she said, looking at him with pinched eyes.
He gave her a quick hug, hoping to return to bed and slip back under the covers. He didn’t like that Ingrid had all the control in their marriage now, especially since she liked to push his buttons every chance she got. But there was nothing he could do about it. Not after he’d shacked up with the girl next door—and gotten caught. Two stupid mistakes related to one really bad decision.
It had become clear to him over the past year that relationship debts, like the one he owed to his wife, take an excruciatingly long time to be paid off. And even then, when the balance remaining is zero, more payment is due. Far more than he ever realized; he’d be stuck forever paying for dipping his wick into the forbidden fruit. Oh, but what a juicy, succulent fruit it was—still haunting his dreams on a nightly basis. “May I go back to sleep now, please?”
“No, not yet. I need your help here,” Ingrid said, pacing the room. “Something terrible is going on over there. I can feel it. She was naked and so was he. I think we should do something. Don’t you? The police need to know.”
“Did you get a license plate number?”
“No, I didn’t. I couldn’t make it out. It was too far away when she jumped inside it. I can describe the car, though.”
“Okay, hon,” Paul said. “Go ahead and call the cops. Tell them what you saw. Just keep my name out of it, okay? I’m sure they’ll send a cruiser out or something and check the house. Are you sure she came from inside the house and he was chasing her?”
“I don’t know, maybe. I never actually saw her inside. Plus, he showed up after she was gone. But she did look scared when she ran across the driveway. That much I’m sure of.”
“Well, maybe it’s not what you think it is? You really don’t have all the facts.”
“Whether I do or not doesn’t make any difference at this point. I don’t like the idea of people running around the neighborhood naked. Especially not a young girl and some huge man. None of this is right, on so many levels.”
“Okay, then. Like I said before, go ahead and call the cops. But when they ask you—”
“No, I want you to do it.”
“What? You want me to call ‘em? Why?”
“Please, Paul.”
“What am I gonna say? I didn’t see anything. You’re the one who—”
“Please, just do this for me. I need you to call them, right now.”
Paul sighed while staring into her vengeful, demanding eyes. He knew he was never going to worm his way out of this predicament, or any of the others that were still haunting his payback list.
“Okay, okay. I’ll call. Just tell me what you want me to say.”
“Where’s your cell phone?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Give me a second,” he said, letting his eyes dart around the room for bit before sauntering into the hallway at a snail’s pace to stall for time.
“It’s in the bedroom, right where you left it. On the nightstand,” Ingrid said, using that pushy tone of hers. “Do you want me to get it for you?”
“Nah, I got it. Hang on,” he said, looking back at her. She was standing with her hands on her hips, we
aring her patented smirk that said, Do it or I divorce your ass.
Paul went to their bedroom, cussing quietly under his breath. Even though his vulgarity was directed at her, it was meant for himself—for being such a dumbass.
The neighbor girl? Really?
He never should’ve strayed from the marital bed with someone in the neighborhood. The girl next door was too close to home and too easy for someone to find out. That someone being Ingrid, and of course, the rest of the neighborhood.
Dumb, Paul, dumb.
He found his phone and picked it up. However, before he could spin around and head back to the hallway, he heard Ingrid scream. He didn’t know why, but he froze for a second and listened as he heard a strange static sound and then a low hiss. A moment later, crackling sounds hit his ears, followed by a loud thud.
“What the hell?” he said, sprinting into the hallway and back to the workout room. “Ingrid, you okay?” he said just before he made it through the door.
When he entered the room, it took a few seconds for his brain to register what his eyes were seeing: his wife’s body lying in a crumpled pile, not far from the window facing the neighbor’s yard. But that wasn’t all. There was a huge, muscular man standing next to her body. Wait, check that—a huge, naked muscular man with a badly overdone orange-colored tan. He was holding a shiny, metallic briefcase in one hand and a white handgun in the other.
“What are you doing?” Paul snapped, his focus shifting from the man to his wife and back again.
The Orange Man pointed the weapon at him and twitched his thumb against the grip. The muzzle glowed like the tip of a laser pointer just before Paul saw a bright flash.
An instant later, he felt a searing pain shoot through his forehead, then all of the muscles in his body ran weak, sending him crashing to the floor.
Before he could take his next breath, his eyes closed on their own. His head flooded with a wicked spin of dizziness before everything went dark.
* * *
3D57 watched the man fall to the floor after the weapon’s discharge, then put the CART down and walked to his location. He stretched the man’s body out and scanned him, determining that the homeowner’s size and shape was too small.
His secondary acquisition protocols kicked in, telling him to change tactics and search the house for garments to wear. He picked up the CART and started with the bedroom closets, then moved to the home’s attic space, where he found a number of cardboard boxes labeled Grandpa Tom’s. He opened the boxes and began to sift through the neatly folded piles of clothes inside.
Everything looked old compared to his database of Earth’s current fashions, but he found a flannel shirt, faded jacket, thick pair of socks, worn loafers, and some cotton pants that fit. He got dressed, ignoring the obvious smell of dust and mold.
Once fully clothed, his mission subroutines kicked in and delivered a revised task list. Next up: transmit situation report to HQ and download any new or updated priority objectives.
He walked downstairs and put his CART on the dining room table. He opened the briefcase and touched the middle of the chrome command surface with the index and middle fingers of his right hand, swirling and tapping his fingers to enter his transmission access code.
Two thin beams of green light emerged from the briefcase and fixed on 3D57’s eyes. The beams pulsed with white packets of energy as a summary of his mission was digitized, compressed, and then sent back to HQ via the quantum transceiver.
He waited as The Authority’s central computer system processed the information and sent back a set of updated mission specs. His eyes blinked rapidly and his face twitched when the revised instructions were downloaded into his neural network. When the transmission was complete, the beams disappeared and the link disconnected.
He closed the CART and took a few moments to read through the objectives flashing across his internal vision matrix:
Acquire Transportation.
Proceed to 333 North Glassford Street.
Observe and/or Interrogate Jim Miller.
Obtain Present Location of Target.
Acquire Objective.
Return Target to HQ.
Debrief and Complete Mission.
***
Derek rubbed his temples while agonizing in the dark. He’d tried to follow Jim’s advice and go back to sleep, but as soon as he lay down, he knew it was never going to happen. He tossed from side to side in bed, unable to get comfortable or find the mental calm that leads to falling asleep. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t shut off his brain.
He pressed his elbows against the bed, holding his cell phone above his face, checking it every five seconds, hoping for a text or a call from Jim, telling him something, anything.
All he could think about was Emily—he knew it was crazy, but he was upset with her. The more he thought about her, the more furious he became. Why didn’t she call him first? Why call Duane, and then only ask for Nora?
Granted, Emily had no way of knowing where Derek was or how to get in contact with him. But that didn’t matter—he was still mad at her. He should’ve been first and foremost on her contact list. The first person she turned to for help. Not an afterthought. Was that all he was to her? An afterthought?
If the tables had been turned, and he was the one who disappeared, or vanished, or whatever the hell she did, he knew the first thing he’d do was go to her.
None of it made any sense, he convinced himself, unless she was hurt or in jail. Something must be terribly wrong for her not to reach out to him first. Especially after their amazing, magical night together at Nora’s house—the last night he saw her before she disappeared without so much as a goodbye.
Derek pushed the covers from his body and sat on the edge of the bed. That must be it. She was hurt and needed Nora’s medical skills. It was the only explanation that made sense. The only excuse he could accept.
He stood and paced the room, looking at his phone for what must have been the thousandth time in the past half hour—nothing. Damn. Not knowing was worse than not doing.
No more waiting, he decided. He got dressed, grabbed his backpack and tiptoed out of the house, careful not to wake any of his roommates or the night monitor for the group home.
He walked briskly toward Duane and Nora’s house. He’d been there over a dozen times since Emily had disappeared, checking the house and its yard from across the street to see if maybe she’d returned. Each time he’d left brokenhearted, walking the path home with heavy feet.
Now she was back and he had to see her. He had to know where she’d been. He had to know why she took off and left him alone. Again.
The pressure in his chest was immense and he knew why: he loved her. He was sure of it. And he couldn’t stand being apart from her for another second. Being apart made everything hurt across his entire body. Even his hair. It was pure agony. More so now that she was back.
Their connection was strong, pulling at him with the force of a black hole gobbling up all the light around it.
He needed to see her.
Touch her.
Kiss her.
Nothing else mattered.
CHAPTER SIXTY
Emily saw the look of compassion in Nora’s eyes and felt it deeply even though she couldn’t seem to flash on her. No one had looked at Emily like that for years. Not since her mother died the night of The Taking.
Only minutes before, Emily could barely bring herself to say she was pregnant out loud, but did so anyway. Emily knew she couldn’t do this alone. However, after seeing the look in Nora’s eyes, she knew she’d made the right choice by calling Nora for help and admitting what had happened.
Emily focused her attention inward, wanting to pass her feelings and thoughts about Nora along to her baby, but the presence inside had retreated to only a tiny speck of awareness.
Babies sleep, she thought. Even in the womb.
If she was right, then she’d have to save the lesson until later. She didn’t want to wake
him.
A big part of her wanted to tell Nora about her burgeoning connection with her son and the thoughts and feelings they’d been sharing. But she couldn’t. Not yet. Nora was a seasoned nurse and wouldn’t understand why her baby was developing so much faster than a normal fetus. Plus, she wouldn’t understand the telepathic link, either.
If Emily went down that road, she’d also have to explain what happened the night of The Taking, and that was something she’d never do. Ever. It was too painful to share with an outsider. Actually, it was too terrible to share with anyone, other than her mother, who was there when it happened.
The look in her mother’s eyes that night on the ship when death came for her was one Emily would never forget. That singular moment in time had burned a nasty scar on the petals of her heart. A scar that would remain there until the end of time.
“We’ll get through this, child,” Nora said, snapping Emily out of her thoughts.
Emily put her head down, slumping her chin against her chest. She stared at her belly. “I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”
“Nobody’s ever ready, honey. Babies come when they come. They’re the most precious gift of all. God has touched your life. Embrace it with an open heart.”
“I know, Nora. I am thankful. But I’m also really scared. Not just because I’m an orphan and only fifteen. Not ‘cuz I don’t have any money or anyone to take care of me. That’s only some of it. There’s more. So much more. I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t. It’s just too horrible to talk about.”
“It’s okay, dear. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”
“Thanks for understanding. I can’t believe you’re doing all this for me. Thank you so much for everything.”
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