The Deviant Underground (Time Bandit) (36 page)

Jonathan turned. “Of course, my dear.”

“For how long?”

“Why, as long as we need to.”

“So for, like, a long time?” The dark, cold, metal walls began to close in on her.

Jonathan shrugged. “Perhaps.”

“What's the problem, baby?” Charge gestured for her to follow them. “We're safe here.”

“Yeah,” Susan joined in. “You saw those cops. If they had caught us . . .” The rest of her sentence floated to the ceiling.

Kathryn was speechless against so much opposition. Jonathan and Susan continued on, and Charge affectionately grabbed her hand. “Come on, babe. This is great! This is like an adventure.”

“Charge,” Kathryn pleaded. “You might like living in a cave, but I don't. I'd rather take my chances out there with the cops and the sunshine.”

“Aw, come on, you'll grow to like it.” He led her across the room. “This place looks pretty cool to me.”

Reluctantly, Kathryn allowed herself to be led through the bunker. Charge's makeshift power surge had faintly illuminated lights throughout the underground structure. The place was huge. The hallways seemed to stretch forever, and each one was peppered with several doors, most of them closed. Jonathan opened some of them, and they found old offices full of dusty furniture, filing rooms containing empty cabinets, medical bays with outdated equipment, and control rooms peppered with more dials, switches, and buttons. At the end of one of the hallways, there was an elevator. There was not enough power for it to work, so Kathryn teleported them all down to the next level. She took Charge and Susan first. She then returned for Jonathan.

“You ready?”

“I think so.” Jonathan seemed a bit nervous.

For some reason, she found his trepidation to be endearing. “Don't worry,” she reassured him. “This won't hurt a bit. Just make sure that you close your eyes.”

He did, and Kathryn took his hand and teleported him downstairs. He swayed on his feet upon landing, but otherwise, he seemed okay. “Are you all right?” Kathryn watched him closely for any signs that he may hit the floor. Jonathan's eyes darted about as though he was trying to figure out where he was. He looked at Charge and Susan before settling his eyes on Kathryn.

He smiled. “Yes, I think I'm fine. That was quite an exhilarating experience.”

“That's one way to put it,” Susan teased.

They continued their exploration of their “hideout.” The second level was full of sleeping quarters. Room after room contained small, military-style single beds, a metal cabinet, a metal table, and a chair. Each room also had its own bathroom, complete with a toilet, sink, and a shower. Surprisingly, the water still worked.

At the end of another hallway was the mess hall. Long metal tables and benches filled the room. The kitchen was large as well and featured huge ovens, a stove with several burners, and two industrial-sized refrigerators. “Imagine the meals we could make here,” Jonathan joked. Kathryn didn't want to.

Past the mess hall was a set of stairs that lead down to a third level. This level was completely open and was clearly the electrical room. “Ah, here we go,” Charge said eagerly as he approached the equipment. He opened one of the cabinets and studied it for a second. “Hmm, this is really old stuff here. This might take a while.”

“That's fine, Charge,” Jonathan said. “We'll just go and get unpacked.” Kathryn teleported them all back to the car to get their bags. She then teleported them back to the habitat wing.

“Okay.” Jonathan looked up and down the dim hallway. “All of these rooms are identical, so I don't think that it matters which one we take.” Jonathan walked down the hallway and took the first door on the left. He opened the door with a wave of his hand. “I'll take this one.”

Kathryn walked a few feet down the hall and stood in front of a door on the right. “I'll take this one,” she said quietly.

“And I'll take the one across the hall!” Susan cheerfully walked to her new room. Jonathan opened the doors for them, and Kathryn stepped inside.

The only word she could think of for the room was grey. Everything was—the bedframe, table, chair, cabinet, floor, walls, ceiling, even the formerly white bedsheet stretched tightly over the mattress was now grey with age. Kathryn set her small suitcase down on the desk and began to unpack. She spread out all of her possessions on the bed before slowly putting them in the metal cabinet. As she was doing so, the lights flickered and then burst into full power, flooding the room with florescent light. The front door slid shut. Kathryn watched it close before resuming her unpacking. She carefully lined up her clothes in an organized fashion, grouping shirts, pants, socks, and underwear. She unwrapped
Tom Jones
and placed it on a shelf by itself. There was no chance of it getting ruined by moisture or light. Kathryn then closed her empty suitcase and put it under the bed. In her hand, she had her mother's earrings. She put them on the table, and they tapped quietly as they hit the surface. The table had a small drawer, and Kathryn opened it. It was empty. She put the earrings into the drawer and began to close it. She stopped. Digging into her pockets, Kathryn pulled out her cigarettes, her lighter, and her driver's license. Her name and her address seemed so small. With one swift gesture, she threw her ID into the drawer, and it slid to the back with a tiny clack. Kathryn shut the drawer firmly.

The front door suddenly slid open, and Charge's large frame filled the doorway. “I did it, baby. We now have full power.”

“That's great.”

Charge's swollen eye was beginning to go down, concern flashing in both of them. “Hey, babe. Don't be upset.” He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him. She gasped in pleasure at his body pressed up against hers. It had been too long since they had made love, and she could feel the desire rising inside of her again. He kissed her lightly with his healing lips. “This is a great place. We'll be safe here. It won't be forever—just until we figure out what this branch of the government is and how to fight them. Don't worry.” He softly stroked the side of Kathryn's face. She loved the feeling of his large hand against her cheek. “Jonathan's got a plan. It'll be okay, Kathryn.”

“Okay.” She ran her fingers across his unshaven chin, relishing its roughness. “But there's just one thing.”

“What's that?”

“From now on, I want you to call me Time Bandit.”

Charge's warm brown eyes stared intensely into hers for a moment. He then smiled. “You got it.” He kissed her again.

Time Bandit nodded and took his hand. “Now let's explore this place with the lights on.”

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The Deviant Underground
.

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The Deviant Underground
is book one in the Time Bandit Series. Please go to the next page to read an excerpt from book two—
A Deviant Time
.

Please enjoy this excerpt from
A Deviant Time
, book two in the Time Bandit Series:

Chapter One

The phone trembled as the woman held it in front of them. “See. Here’s his picture. Wait a sec.” She enlarged the image with a pinch of her fingers. “There. He’s about six feet. With a goatee. Brown. Brown hair with, like, a few grays in it. He was going gray, and it was bothering him, but I told him that I liked it. It made him look more distinguished, you know? I was razzing him that it made him look older than me, which I like because I’m two years older than him, and I told him that I hope he gets more grays because I color my hair, even though he told me that I didn’t need to because he loves—“ Her voice cracked, and Time Bandit watched as tears welled up in her eyes. “Anyway. Did you see him? My husband? Was he there? He’s been missing for six weeks.”

Time Bandit slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t.” The woman’s crestfallen look broke her heart. “But like I’ve been telling everyone, I didn’t see anyone in particular. So many of the rooms were dark. People were asleep. None of us saw anyone.” Susan and Charge shook their heads. The woman’s lip quivered. “But maybe he was there and got out. I don’t know. Maybe he’s trying to make his way back to you.” The woman nodded, clutching her phone to her chest before walking away.

Time Bandit sighed and picked at her cold fries. They had sat in a booth tucked away in a corner of Annette’s Diner, but that hadn’t stopped people from approaching them. They all had pictures. Stories. Questions. Their eyes hopeful one minute and sorrowful the next when the answer was no. “Why do they keep asking us?”

“You.” Susan took a sip of her coffee. “They’re asking you.”

“Okay, but why?”

“Because you’re a hero, baby.” Charge slipped his hand underneath the table and gave her leg an affectionate squeeze. “You saved me, remember?”

“Yeah. I know that, but how do they know that?” She gestured around the room. Several people made nervous eye contact with her before looking away. Some whispered to their friends. Others fiddled with their phones. All seemed to be getting up the nerve to come over.

Charge snorted. “These are deviants, baby. Something big happens, and word gets around. And you saving me was something really big.” He kissed her, and Time Bandit relished the sweet taste of his lips.

“Fair enough. But why do we have to keep coming here?”

“Because Annette’s is the only deviant-run diner on this side of LA,” Susan said. “And because we were hungry.” She polished off the rest of her burger.

“We could’ve just stayed home,” Time Bandit muttered.

Charge laughed. “What, and listen to you complain about our place again? No windows. No light. No sunshine. Too cold. Too—”

“Okay. Okay. But I just meant—”

“Can I get ya’ll anything else?” Annette tucked her pencil behind her ear and picked up Susan’s and Charge’s empty plates, balancing them on one arm.

“No thanks,” Charge said. “Everything was great as usual.”

“I don’t know about that. You barely touched your food, honey.”

“Sorry, Annette. I’m just not that hungry.”

Annette squinted her eyes. “Hm. Melancholy.”

“What?”

“Melancholy. That’s what I’m getting off you, girl. You’re down in the dumps. But you shouldn’t be. Nuh uh. See all these people in here?” She nodded to the bustling diner. “Admiration. Awe. Even a trickle of jealousy every now and then. That’s how they feel about you. You’re a hero, honey, and every deviant in here knows it.”

“That’s not true.”

“You doubting me? Because you know I’m the best empath around, and don’t let Lacey down in Santa Monica tell you otherwise.” She winked.

“I just—“

“Stop. You are a hero. Accept it. You did a great thing for the community. You saved a lot of people. So many owe their lives to you.”

“Maybe. But there are still so many questions.”

“And you’ll find the answers.” With one hand, Annette took out their bill. It had a big X drawn on it. “This one’s on the house. You three just keep coming back here. You’re good for business.” She cleared their table and left.

“Sweet! Gotta love a free lunch.” Susan started to get up from the table. “Let’s get back. Jonathan said he had some news about—”

“Excuse me.” The man cleared his throat. “I-I’m sorry to interrupt, and I can tell that you’re leaving, but I had to come over and . . . Well, I was wondering if you had any information about my sister.” He was a small man, slight of build, with a receding hairline. With an unsteady finger, he pushed the bridge of his thick glasses, and they threatened to slip down his nose again.

Time Bandit sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t—“

“Wait. I . . . uh . . . have a picture around here somewhere.” He dug around the pockets of his tattered trench coat before pulling out a creased photograph. “I’m sorry. This is an old picture, but it’s my sister. I haven’t heard from her in over a year. I don’t know where she is. I’ve called everyone I know. I’ve tried the police. I just can’t . . .” His voice trailed off as he set the photo down on the table.

The first thing Time Bandit noticed was her eyes. They were black, and even through the faded photo, they penetrated her brain, forcing her to look away. The second thing she noticed was Charge.

His face was completely pale.

“What is it?”

His mouth moved, but no sound escaped. His hands shook as his eyes grew wide.

Time Bandit’s heart leaped into her throat. “Charge, what is it?”

“It’s
her
.”

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