by TJ Klune
chapter nine
They were out of bacon.
The world was ending.
“You don’t understand,” Art lamented, throwing herself on the couch. “What will we do? Are we going to starve?”
“There’s plenty of other food,” Alex reminded her.
Nate didn’t say anything. He hadn’t said much at all since the flowers the day before.
“I know that, Alex,” Art said. “But nothing is as good as bacon. Why can’t you understand that? It’s like you’re being difficult on purpose.”
“I’m not difficult.”
“A little.”
“Art.”
“Alex.”
“If you’re hungry, there are plenty of other things to have.”
“But I don’t want other things. I want bacon.”
Nate said, “I can go to town. Pick up some supplies.”
They turned to look at him slowly. It was probably the first time he’d spoken today, and it was already approaching noon.
“She doesn’t need anything,” Alex said quietly.
“Says you.” Art pushed herself up off the couch. “If Nate needs to run away—I mean, if he’s volunteering, then we should let him.”
He wasn’t running away. Flowers bloomed all the time. That was a fact. It was how they worked. “Yes,” he said. “I’m volunteering.”
Alex stared at him suspiciously. “Are you—”
“You need things too,” Nate reminded him. “You have to shave daily, because of the whole grr mountain-man thing you have going on.”
“I don’t have anything going on—”
“You shaved this morning, and you already have a five-o’clock shadow,” Nate said. “You’re going to dull my razors.”
Alex scowled. But that was okay, Nate was used to that. He could deal with that. “Besides, it’ll give me a chance to get some air. I didn’t expect to have roommates, after all.”
“Right,” Art said. “Didn’t expect that. We’re probably getting on your nerves.”
“Exactly,” Nate agreed. Then, “Wait. No. Not like that.”
“She doesn’t need bacon,” Alex said.
“Get as much as you can,” Art said cheerfully. “I don’t have any money, but I’m sure I can pay you back somehow.”
Nate didn’t want to know what that meant.
Alex got up from the kitchen table, chair scraping against the floor.
He still carried the gun.
He disappeared down the hall.
Nate wondered if he’d done something wrong. He looked at Art, who just shrugged.
Alex came back a moment later, still scowling of course. He thrust his hand out toward Nate.
In it were two twenty-dollar bills.
Nate stared at them.
“Just take it,” Alex said, huffing out a breath.
Art coughed.
“It would be nice if you would take it,” Alex said.
“Annnnnd?”
He shot a glare at Art. “And if you could get us a couple of things. A razor would be helpful.”
“Do you want shampoo?” Nate blurted. “Because I know you use the pink shampoo.”
Alex took a step back. “What?”
“The shampoo. In the bathroom. It’s pink.”
“Very girly,” Art agreed.
“Fine,” Alex said through gritted teeth. “Shampoo. Bacon. A razor.”
“And grapes,” Art said. “I would like some grapes. I’ve never had them before, and I read in a book a long time ago that the green kind are better than the red kind.”
“You’ve never had grapes,” Nate said faintly.
She shook her head. “I’ve always wanted to try them.”
If he took the money and fled the house, well.
That was nobody’s business but his own.
There was a small grocery in Roseland. Nothing spectacular. But they had razors and bacon and shampoo and grapes.
He stood in front of the grapes for the longest time.
“Hard decision?”
Nate blinked.
A man stood next to him, looking familiar. He carried a plastic basket on his arm. It was empty. “Pardon?”
The man nodded his head toward the fruit. “You’ve been staring for a couple of minutes.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry. Just… a lot on my mind.”
The man smiled. “Oh, I get that. Those pipes holding up okay?”
Nate blinked. “The pipes…? Oh. I’m sorry, I’m completely spacing on your name. It’s been… a long week.”
The man laughed. “No problem.” He held out his hand. Nate took it, pumping up and down a couple of times. “Randy. Douglas County Public Works.”
“Right,” Nate said. “Sorry. Nate. Nate Cartwright.”
“I remember,” Randy said. “How’s that dog of yours?”
“Dog?”
“The one you have at the cabin.”
“I don’t—” He coughed. “Right. The dog. He’s, uh. He’s fine. Just fine.”
“What’d you say his name was again?”
“Fido.”
“That’s right. Fido. Funny name for a dog.”
“Is it? I thought it was normal.”
Randy shrugged. “Never heard of a dog actually named Fido before.”
“I guess.”
“Just as long as—”
“Nate! You’re down here quicker than I expected.”
He turned. Big Eddie Green was walking toward him, an easy grin on his face. He clapped his hand on Nate’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “Yeah,” Nate said. “I, uh, needed. A few things.”
“Everything good up at the cabin?”
Well, no. There was a man with a gun and a girl who might have caused flowers to bloom. But that wasn’t something he could say out loud, because that was crazy, right? He hadn’t even allowed himself to think about it, much less say it aloud. Oh sure, he’d come to terms with the gun thing. That was just Alex. That was fine. He didn’t care about that anymore. It hadn’t been pointed at him in days, after all.
The flower thing, though.
That was just something else, wasn’t it?
So he said, “Fine. Fine. Everything is fine.”
“Good,” Big Eddie said. He glanced over at Randy. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt. Howdy. I’m Eddie Green, but everyone calls me Big Eddie.”
“Randy,” he said, though he looked slightly angry.
They shook hands.
“You a friend of Nate’s?” Big Eddie asked.
“No,” Nate said. “He’s the water guy.”
“The water guy,” Big Eddie repeated. “That so? Don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. You work for the county? Thought I knew everyone in public works. I know Jimmy’s been complaining about needing someone else helping out around here. County’s pretty big for just one person. They able to fit you into the budget, I guess?”
“Sure,” Randy said, though his mouth was in a thin line. “Haven’t been here long.”
“How’s Jimmy doing? Come to think of it, I haven’t seen that old coot in a couple of weeks.”
“He’s on vacation,” Randy said. “Out of town.”
Big Eddie frowned. “Really? Normally he asks me to water his plants when he leaves. I didn’t hear from him.”
“He probably already has someone doing it for him.”
“Probably,” Big Eddie said. “I’ll stop by, just to make sure. He gave me a key years ago. Better to be safe than sorry.”
“You do that,” Randy said coolly. “I’m sure he’ll be grateful.”
Big Eddie nodded slowly. “I’m sure he will. Nate, all right?”
Nate was sure Big Eddie was asking more than just all right, but he couldn’t quite get where he was going with it. He couldn’t know about the two waiting for him up at the cabin, right? Unless they’d come through Roseland. Alex had said a couple of
days before that they’d ditched the car they’d been in but wouldn’t say where. Or how. If it’d been found, couldn’t it be traced back to Alex somehow?
“Yeah,” Nate said. “All right.” It wasn’t true. Not exactly. But he didn’t know what else to say. Not to Big Eddie. And not in front of Randy, who he didn’t know from Adam. He was the water guy. That was it. He smiled weakly at Randy. “Sorry about that. What were you saying?”
“You were talking about your dog,” Randy said.
“Dog?” Big Eddie asked. “I didn’t see—”
Nate bumped him with his plastic basket filled with four packs of bacon, a razor, and the manliest shampoo he could find. He didn’t know how he’d gotten to this point.
Big Eddie seemed to understand. “Yeah. The dog. Big fella, right?”
“Yep,” Nate said, shrugging awkwardly. “You know how he is.”
“Very true,” Big Eddie said. He shook his head. “Well, enough talking for me. Wife’s at the gas station, but she’s got things to do. If I’m going to check on Jimmy, I should get to it before the missus sends a search party after me. Nate, you keep in touch, y’hear? Let me know if you need anything. Anything at all.”
Nate nodded.
“Randy, it’s sure nice to meet you. I hope you love this place as much as we do. There’s just something about Roseland you can’t find anywhere else.”
“Oh, I’m sure there is,” Randy said. He didn’t sound too impressed.
Big Eddie squeezed Nate’s shoulder again before walking away.
“Nice guy,” Randy said once Big Eddie was out of earshot.
“The best, really,” Nate said, and it was awkward now, and he didn’t know why. His first thought had been that Randy was trying to hit on him maybe, however absurd that sounded. If so, he was flattered but not interested in the slightest. He had bigger things to worry about at the moment. “Well, it was nice seeing you again—”
“I get it,” Randy said, taking a step closer. “It’s gotta be rough, being all the way up there all by yourself.”
That… he didn’t know what to do with that. “It’s all right. I’m doing okay.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.” Nate cocked his head. “Why?”
“Just thinking out loud, is all. That far out. Cell phones don’t work. Cut off from pretty much everyone, ya know?”
“I… guess so?”
“You see anyone else up there?”
“No.”
“You sure about that?”
“Why?”
Randy grinned. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just shooting the shit. Be careful up there, Mr. Cartwright. There are probably things in those woods you wouldn’t expect.”
He pushed by Nate, leaving him standing in the middle of the store.
He was halfway back when he remembered his phone.
He fished it out of his pocket and powered it on. He’d turned it off since it’d been essentially useless up on the mountain. He’d meant to call Ruth back on the drive down, but he’d been distracted. It was stupid of him. It should have been his first priority.
The Nokia lit up.
And a moment later, the voicemail icon appeared on the screen.
He called it first.
“You have… six… new messages.”
He frowned.
The first message was from three days before. “Nate, it’s Ruth. I need you to call me back when you get this. It’s… Just call me back. I’ve got information for you.”
The second message was from two days before. Ruth again. “Nate. Your phone is going straight to voicemail. You know I hate it when you turn your phone off. You better call me back. Now.”
The third message was a couple hours later. “Nate, I swear to god, if you don’t call me back, your ass is grass. What the hell have you got yourself mixed up in? I found some things, okay? Old sources who told me things they shouldn’t have and—call me. You need to hear this.”
The fourth message was from yesterday morning. “Nate. You—Jesus Christ. Boy, if you make me get on a plane, I am going to kick your fucking dick, do you hear me? And I’ll make you pay me back for a first-class ticket because there is no way my ass is sitting in coach.”
The fifth message came yesterday afternoon. “I think they know I’ve been asking questions. Nate, this isn’t normal. I need to hear from you. Please. Hurry.”
The final message was from earlier that morning. It would have come as Nate was arguing with Alex over going to the grocery store. Ruth spoke in a furious whisper. “Nate. I don’t know what’s happened. There are men here. Government. They think they’re slick in their expensive suits and ridiculous sunglasses. They’re asking questions. I don’t think they know it’s me. I don’t—shit.”
End of messages.
Nate pulled the phone slowly from his ear.
His head was pounding.
His skin was slick with sweat.
He breathed in and out.
He highlighted Ruth’s name. Pressed Send.
It rang once. Twice. Three times. Four and five and—
“You’ve reached Ruth Davis with the Post. If you have this number, you know who I am. If it’s important, leave a message. I’ll decide if it’s truly important enough to call you back.”
He didn’t leave a message.
He called again. One ring. Two. Three—
“Davis.”
“Ruth.”
“Nate, why the hell—hold on a minute. Don’t you go anywhere, you hear me?”
“Yeah, I—”
He was put on hold. Muzak crackled through the phone. It felt like it stretched on for hours and hours. Then, just before he thought he’d go out of his mind, a beep sounded above the Muzak. It was a number he didn’t recognize. He clicked over. “Hello?”
“It’s me.”
“Ruth? Why are you calling me from a different number?”
“Went to an empty office. Different phone line. Couldn’t take any chances. Don’t think they know about this one.”
“What are you talking about?”
She grunted. “Boy, you are in a world of hurt. Do you know what the hell you’ve stepped in?”
“I don’t—what’s going on? What happened? Who were the men that—”
“NSA,” she snapped. “Or so they claimed. Bullshit, if you ask me. I’ve been around here long enough to know a smokescreen when I see one. You called me here, talking about some random man in your house, a Marine with a little girl. And then I start looking around, putting out some feelers on an Alex Delgado, and here they are.”
“Do they know it was you?”
She snorted. “Boy, I cover my ass better than that. They were looking for a man named Hank Williams.”
Nate couldn’t stop the grin on his face. “Mom always liked him.”
“I bet she did. They wanted to see computers and such. They came to my desk, and I pointed toward my typewriter. They weren’t happy.”
“So much for freedom of the press.”
“Oh, you and I both know that’s an illusion if you go far enough. And I went far. Nate, there is no Alex Delgado.”
He closed his eyes. “Yeah. I figured as much.”
“His name is Alex Weir. And he went AWOL two weeks ago from a base in Northern California. The Marine Corps Mountain Warfare Training Center.”
Nate frowned as he opened his eyes. “Why does that sound familiar?”
“You listen to the news?”
“No. Not since I’ve been at the cabin.”
“A helicopter went down there a couple weeks back. Right around the time your Alex Weir disappeared.”
“That’s—I heard that on the radio. Right before I pulled into Roseland. They said it was a training exercise.”
“That’s what they said. Just like they said the whole base is nothing but what’s in the name. A training center.”
“Ruth,” Nate sa
id slowly. “What are you trying to tell me?”
She sighed. “I couldn’t get deep, Nate. I tried. Lord knows I did. But the more I dug, the more doors closed. I have—had—some people I trusted. Old friends. But even they couldn’t get very far. I haven’t heard back from them, even though I’ve called repeatedly.”
“What did you find out?”
“It’s not a training center. Something big happens there, Nate. Something that no one outside is supposed to know about. Alex Weir was career. By all rights, he was exceptional. Some high-profile missions. Decorated. Until he disappeared completely ten years ago. And we’re not talking like he went AWOL back then. No. He was just gone. Everything just stopped for him. He wasn’t a person anymore. It wasn’t until two weeks ago that he resurfaced. And that’s when he was listed AWOL, but not by the usual channels. This is all completely in the dark. And they’re looking for him.”
“I don’t understand,” Nate said hoarsely.
“That little girl. Nate, is she…?”
“Is she what?”
“I couldn’t get much. They called it the Mountain. That’s what the place is called. The training center is just a cover.”
“But it’s—”
The first day.
Alex, with his gun.
You came from the Mountain?
Nate had thought he was—off. He’d come up the mountain, yes. But… that wasn’t what Alex meant, was it?
Mountain. Capitalized.
And then after.
Art.
Artemis Darth Vader.
This doesn’t taste like the vegetable paste on the Mountain.
He hadn’t asked what that’d meant. He hadn’t asked.
“What about her?” Nate asked roughly. “What about the girl?”
“There wasn’t any mention of a girl,” Ruth said. “It was always called the Seventh Sea. S-E-A, like the ocean. Whatever it is, it’s the Seventh Sea. And they’re looking, Nate, okay? They’re looking. Whatever it is, they want it back.”
“I don’t understand.”
She laughed wildly. “You and me both, kiddo. Look at you. You get fired for getting your fucking dick wet, and here you are, smack dab in the middle of a story that people are probably getting killed over. Don’t you see? Nate, they’re coming. You need to get your ass in gear and run.”