Killswitch (27 page)

Mel stepped to the center of the make-shift stage. Chase took a seat in the front row. Switchblade shifted on his feet against the wall.

“Well.” She scanned the crowd as they settled into chairs.

Chase leaned forward and prayed she'd find her voice.

One of the young girls called out from the back, “Are you going to tell us about the wedding?”

Laughs filled the room. Mel's eyes grew big.

Chase went to her side. “No one has made any wedding plans,” he said. “This is not the time. Melody has something important to share with you about Amos. And about herself.” He moved to the side and nodded to her.

“Amos is too sick to continue as leader of Blue Sky Field,” she said. “It's an awesome responsibility—more than the operation of the other branches of the underground. We run the whole organization from here. Well, you all know that.”

She lifted her chin and took a step forward. “For the most part, I designed the programs that keep us going. I know how it all works. Even better than Amos does. But that's not the only reason for his decision. He says he prayed on it, and I'm the one he wants to replace him. I know I'm young and lacking in experience. I'm willing to try if you all are willing to take a chance on me.” She crossed her arms then dropped them to her sides.

One person clapped. Then another. In a few seconds, everyone in the room was on their feet, applauding their new leader. Chase joined them. She had the people's support. There'd be no turning back.

She smiled. The fire in her dark eyes that Chase had noticed when he first arrived blazed brighter than ever. How beautiful she was.

Her expression grew somber. “We need to ready ourselves for Amos's parting.” She glanced at Finley. “Some have lost family recently. But this will be a loss for all of us.”

Chase shifted in his seat. Was she ready to let the man go without a fight? The trip to Gagnon had to happen before Amos got any worse. Chase wouldn't contradict the new leader. Not in front of people. But later, they'd have to talk about it.

Not much else was said as to how things would change, if at all. Mel encouraged the residents of Blue Sky Field to go back to whatever they'd been doing—especially the praying. She promised to keep them informed about Amos, but he didn't need any visitors. Not now.

People left for their work stations, kitchen duty, or cleaning detail. A few approached Mel with a personal word of gratitude for stepping up. They'd keep her in their prayers. They'd do whatever she needed to help make the transition smooth.

Mel seemed exhausted when the last of the crowd left. Chase pulled her to a chair and made her sit.

He put his arm around her shoulder. “You did great.”

“I think I need to spend the afternoon in the command center,” she said.

“Like you would have done anyway?”

She tilted her head as her lips curved upward. “Yeah. But I need to let the other branches know I'm taking on a new role.” She took Chase's hand in hers. “Can you check on Amos for me?”

“I can do anything you need me to do.” He lifted her hand and kissed it. “Come on, I'll walk you to your station.”

They went into the active hub of the underground. Nothing seemed different. Except Amos was missing. Chase left Mel there. She'd make her announcement to the believers around the world. He'd be only a few yards away in Amos's quarters.

He found his mom sitting in a chair beside the bed, deep in conversation with Amos, who seemed to be feeling better.

“Chase,” he said. “We were just talking about you. Your mother tells me you were a peculiar child.”

Mom's hands flew to her mouth and then dropped to her lap. “Now, Amos, that's not what I said.”

“Oh, what was it? Special?”

“I said I knew he had a destiny.”

“Yes.” Amos wheezed out a laugh. “Your mother says you were destined for…What was it?”

Chase sat on the edge of the bed. “You feeling all right, Amos?”

“I'm fine. Your mother says you were destined to help people.”

The dream of a note in a bottle floated through his mind. Chase could almost hear the waves lapping the shore. He could see his young father pulling the bottle out of the gulf. But it was his mother who'd extracted the note. More than a dream, it had happened. A long time ago.

“You remember the note, Mom?”

“Of course. Whatever happened to it?”

“I cleaned out my desk when I was ten. Never saw it again.” He had to ask her about the numbers. But they couldn't have been on that old note. “It said—”

“You will become a helper to those in need.” Mom nodded. “And you have.”

“Mom, was there anything else on that note? Numbers?”

“No, I don't think so. Just that one line. Why?”

Chase wasn't surprised. The numbers weren't there until the dream. God added them for the transhuman.

“Never mind.” Chase studied Amos. “I still want to take you to Gagnon.”

“Your new leader, I'm sure, would not allow it.”

“What's in Gagnon?” Mom's expression lightened. “Oh, the doctor.” She directed her attention to Amos. “I think you should go.” Her eyes darted to Chase. “We could get him there. Right, son?”

“We?”

“Well, sure. Take your mom on one of your adventures. I could stay with Amos until he's feeling better, and you could come back here to help Melody run things.”

“Kim, I'm not going to get better,” Amos said. “Only worse.”

“All the more reason for you to see a doctor,” she said.

“Mom, you told me you were never leaving the underground. You don't want to be up top. Remember?”

“And you told me not to be afraid.” She smiled. “So let's do it. I need to exercise my faith.”

Chase shook his head. “When I said that, it wasn't an invitation to tag along on one of these missions.
I'm
too afraid of what might happen.”

“There is no mission,” Amos said. “No one is going to Gagnon.” He yawned and his face drained of color. “I think I need to rest some more.”

Chase got off the bed. “I'll be in the command center. Mom, do you need anything?”

“You can have someone bring us some lunch in a while.”

“I'll bring it myself. See you at noon.”

Amos closed his eyes. Chase eased out the door and pulled it shut. He started for the bustling room only a hundred feet away, but he heard a soft groan from the other end of the hall. He swung around and found Finley sitting on the floor with a laptop. Her long brown hair hung to one side. Her narrow shoulders fell forward. She pounded her fist against the keypad.

Chase dropped to the floor beside her. “Finley, how are you doing? I know it's been tough. Coming underground is a big adjustment.”

“I'm all right, Mr. Sterling. I just wish my parents could have become believers before they were killed.”

“It's hard to understand why it worked out this way. But you have a family here who loves you.” He reached for her hand and held it between both of his.

She looked up at him. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Where'd you get that old laptop?”

“Miss Melody gave it to me. She's got a few reconditioned laptops and tablets in a storeroom. I like to write, and when I told her I'd miss my computer, she gave me this one. I lost all the stuff I wrote at home. I stored it with a cyber-server, but Miss Melody said it was too risky to try to get it back.”

“Well, she would know.” Chase glanced down the hall. He needed to get back to the command center. But he'd spend another minute or two with this poor girl who'd lost everything. “What are you working on? You write stories? Or poetry?”

“Right now, I'm not writing much of anything. This computer's got some kind of problem.”

“We'll get Mel—Miss Melody—to check it out. I need to go see her now. I'll let her know you're having trouble with it.” He started to get up.

“Yeah, it's all these numbers. They just keep scrolling across the screen no matter what I do.”

Chase's arms tensed, but his legs turned to jelly and he dropped back down. “Let me take a look.”

It couldn't be.

He took the laptop from Finley, crisscrossed his legs, and set the old computer in front of him.

The numbers lit up the screen. It was the code. All of it. In order, beginning with Mel's original clue.

“Nineteen, two,” he said.

“Mr. Sterling, you're white as a ghost. What's wrong?”

“Day to day pours out speech. And night to night reveals knowledge.”

“I think that's from the Psalms,” Finley said. “Are you saying that's Psalm nineteen, two?”

Chase kept his eyes on the screen. The numbers began their scroll.

20-2

22-26

23-6

31-8

32-7

32-7

32-7

The last number repeated. Over and over.

“See what I mean?” Finely asked. “They just keep showing up like that.” She took the laptop from Chase and slammed it shut. “It's junk, that's all.”

“It's not junk,” he told her. His eyes moved from her irritated expression to the laptop as she slid it off her outstretched legs and onto the cold floor. “It's me in there.”

44

Chase picked up the old device. He pulled open the screen, but the laptop had powered down.

“It's probably dead,” Finley said. “Doesn't hold a charge very long. But Mr. Sterling, what do you mean it's you in there? You mean the missing exoman?”

“Exoself.”

“Yeah, sorry. I don't get all that stuff. I mean, I know you lost it while you were gone to Gagnon. And I heard Switchblade shot up Miss Melody's laptop. And—”

“Finley. Please. I need to take this. I'll see if Mel can get you another one. All right?”

She lifted her hand, palm up, and shook her head. “Yeah, take it. I hope you find your exoself guy. But, Mr. Sterling, I've got stuff in there I don't want anybody reading.”

Chase hugged the laptop to his chest. “I'll make sure nobody reads your stuff and I'll get Mel to load it into another computer. Thank you, Finley.” He took a few steps. Then he reeled back. “Listen, maybe we should keep this quiet. Can you do that?”

“Hey, I'm not saying a word.” She tossed her hair behind her back. “God be with you, Mr. Sterling.”

“Call me Chase. Could you please go get the charger and put it in my room for me?”

She smiled. “OK. Chase. I'll get it.”

He headed for the command center. Mel would know what to do. Maybe. He stopped walking. Did he want this? The past couple of days he'd been glad it was gone. Ever since he'd gotten the H.S. in him, as Switchblade had put it.

But Switchblade had also told him that his days with the exoself weren't over. The people of the underground needed Chase to get back what he'd brought to them—the transhuman.

He stole into the computer center where Mel and several others worked. Switchblade sat nearby at the monitors showing the feed from the cameras in town.

Chase went to him first and grabbed him by the arm.

“Hey, Charlie, what's got into you? I'm busy here.”

“I need to see you. In private. Now.”

“All right, all right. I'm coming.” Switchblade left the station. “Where we going?”

“My room. I'll get Mel.”

“This about Amos?”

“Just go to my room. We'll be right behind you.”

The big man huffed and headed toward the hallway.

Chase hurried to Mel's station and dropped his hand on her shoulder. “We need to talk. Right now.”

She turned to face him. “Amos?”

“No, there's no change. It's about something else. It's important.”

“Chase, can't it wait. I'm kind of busy.”

He held the laptop in front of him and tapped it. “I found something.”

“That looks like the old laptop I gave Finley. What are you doing with it?” Then her eyes grew wide. “I'm coming.” She told the others working with her, “I'll be back in a few minutes. I have to check…I have to…”

“Mel, come on.”

She rose from her chair. “I'll be back.”

Chase headed out of the room with Mel right behind him.

“Chase, you're telling me the exoself is in that old thing?”

“Did it belong to you, Mel?”

“Yeah. I brought ten devices down with me. Figured we'd have them for personal use as long as we could keep them running.”

“But is it registered to you?”

“Sure. They all are.”

Chase entered his room and dropped the laptop on the bed. “You were right, Switch. I found it.”

“Sparky?” His eyes darted to the bed and back. “So, he found himself another laptop.”

Mel sat on the bed and opened the device. Chase found the charger on the table. “It's dead. I told Finley to leave the charger in here.” He handed Mel one end and then plugged the cord into the only electrical outlet in the room.

The screen sparked and blue swirls formed a small rectangle. Mel typed in a passcode. Several icons popped up—perhaps titles of whatever Finley had been writing. No sign of the exoself.

“Open a file,” Chase said.

Mel clicked on one at random—third from the left. “The Reasons I Hate the Underground,” she read from the top of the page. “Teens. They let it all out, don't they?”

Chase took the laptop and moved to the table with it. The cord barely reached. “Sorry, I told Finley I wouldn't let anybody read her stuff.”

“Chase, how did you figure this out?” Mel asked. “What makes you think the exoself is in there.”

Chase scrolled down. The computer flashed to black. And then the numbers started their roll. “Here's why.” He held it up for Mel and Switchblade to see.

Mel stared at the screen. “Praise Jesus.”