The Travelers: Book One (7 page)

He picked his head up slowly, his movements jerky and inhuman. His hungry gaze never left Gemma’s face and she felt her pulse quicken impossibly in her veins.

“Any time now, Carson,” she mumbled, trying to back further away but the front panel of the desk halted her progress.

She was trapped.

The man tilted his head to the side with a sickening crack before he managed to pull himself into a sitting position.

Gemma swore she could see him salivating at the sight of her; blood trickled from his ears and down his neck unnoticed — his focus was absolute and reserved only for her.

“Carson,” she called, hysteria creeping into her voice even though she knew he wouldn’t hear her.

The crazed man crawled toward her on hands and knees; his joints flexed at odd angles that Gemma knew must be painful. What was powerful enough to override a person’s basic instincts?

In the next second so many things happened at once that Gemma couldn’t even process them all.

She pressed herself against the back of the desk as the stranger launched himself at her, mouth open like a hungry crocodile. She curled into a tight ball, trying desperately to protect her vital organs from the impending attack.

But the attack never came.

In one fell swoop, Carson grabbed Gemma’s attacker by the scruff of his collar and hurled him into the wall with a growl. The plaster cracked and crumbled from the repeated blows and dust rained down on the man, Carson’s fist met with the stranger’s jaw with a gut-wrenching crack before the man collapsed, once again unconscious.

Gemma’s heart didn’t slow a bit; Carson was acting just like the rest of them. When he stuck his head under the desk to offer her a hand, she cringed, shying away from him.

“Gemma, it’s okay. Come on, we have to go quickly.”

What choice did she have but to trust him?

The ceiling overhead creaked again and the florescent lights flickered ominously.

Her hand slipped into his and he dragged her out of her hiding spot through the raging mob. She tripped over her own feet and plenty of other peoples’ as he pulled her along without a moment of pause. He tugged her through the gaping hole that used to be a doorway and past the ruins of what was left of the station.

There was a window on the far side of the room, the floor around it was littered with shards of broken glass and smears of blood.

“Carson…” Gemma tried to speak, but he wasn’t having any of it. He had to get her out of here as quickly as possible. There would be time to talk later. He had to get her to safety first.

He launched himself out of the window, landing on the patch of grass ten feet below with a wobble.

“Come on!” He shouted, holding his arms out to her.

She looked frantically around for some other way. It wasn’t a far drop, but it was far enough that she didn’t want to jump. Her eyes roved over the debris that used to be a functioning police station and she knew she couldn’t stay any longer.

Gemma perched herself at the window sill and looked down. The world swam before her eyes; the ten foot drop looked like fifty to her. Her muscles locked up and her brain shut down. Even the tamest of heights was enough to give her a panic attack.

“I can’t!” She cried, a tremor of hysteria edging into her tone.

Carson roared his frustration; people were pouring out of the station and their escape was doing nothing to temper their frenzy. They needed to get out of there ASAP.

“Gemma, you have to jump. I’ll catch you, I promise,” he pleaded, trying to keep his voice even and calm despite the situation.

She cast a furtive glance back over her shoulder, only to see people staggering back in around her. It was now or never.

She closed her eyes, squeezing a solitary tear out as she did; she was going to have to trust him.

The moment her hands pushed her from the sill, she regretted it. She was falling, there was nothing to support her, nothing to stop her from splattering onto the hard ground, nothing to keep her brains inside her skull if it slammed into the pavement. Before she even had the chance to fully realize her panic, Carson’s arms cradled her fall and set her gently onto her feet before he grabbed her hand and hauled ass toward his car as the building behind them began to crumble and collapse.

Chapter 7

Once they were locked back in the safety of Carson’s Camaro, they both took a pause to try to catch their breath. Gemma’s mind was still reeling with everything that had just happened. There were no words to describe the chaos and panic that swept over the police station. She didn’t know what to make of it all. But she knew now, more than ever, that they had to find Izzy as soon as possible. They had already wasted too much time.

Carson started the ignition, his hands trembling still. In the rear view mirror he could make out the brawling mob right outside of the station. People jumped from the windows, police ran for cover and smoke began to billow from the besieged building. This was insanity; he looked at Gemma, again thinking that she would prove to be more trouble than good. He wondered to himself why he came back for her. He could have easily left her to fend for herself. His mind filled with images of the crazed man lunging at her as she tried to protect herself; no, he couldn’t leave her alone — she didn’t even have a broom this time. She needed protection and he would be the one to grant it; there was no arguing the point, something in him refused to let her go even when his intellectual mind was trying to find a way to ditch her.

The tires squealed as he peeled out of the parking lot, narrowly missing an angry man that jumped in front of the car.

“Where are you going?” Gemma asked, her voice trembling with the effort of holding in her panic.

“To my office,” he grumbled, his forehead wrinkled with the firm line of his brow.

“What? No. We have to try another police station.” She shrunk away from the answering look he gave her — a look that said all too clearly that he thought she belonged in an asylum.

“You’re insane if you think the police can help us now, Gemma. Did you just miss all of that back there? It’s like a war zone.”

She nibbled on her lip, fighting to keep her eyes on the road.

“Yeah, but that was just one station… Maybe somewhere else…”

He brought the car to a screeching halt on the side of the road. The streets were abnormally clear for this time of day and this side of town seemed to be deserted.

“They couldn’t even keep control of their own station, what makes you think they have the resources to help us find Izzy?”

Gemma stammered, stumbling over her words as she tried to find a reasonable response.

“I… um… But they’re the police! They’re trained to deal with this stuff.”

His resounding bark of laughter startled her and made her instantly defensive.

“And you’re an idiot if you think they’ve ever seen anything of this magnitude. They don’t know what to do other than sit around with their thumbs in their asses. Trust me, sweetheart, if anyone’s going to find Izzy, it’s going to be me.”

She noticed his sudden omission of her from his plans and it rubbed her the wrong way. Just because she wanted to seek help from the proper authorities didn’t mean he had any right to laugh at her or her opinions. She was just going to tell him so, but he continued talking before she could defend herself.

“Look, you can join me or not. I don’t really care either way. Just make up your mind if you’re going to be with me on this or if you’re just going to keep wasting my and Izzy’s precious time.”

He didn’t know why he lied to her; he definitely cared whether she joined him or not. If she didn’t want to come along with his plan, Carson didn’t know if he would be able to let her face this new world on her own. He didn’t know what the next day would bring, he didn’t know how far this thing would spread or how easy it was to get caught up in it. He didn’t like the thought of crazed junkies roaming the streets, barging into her house while she was sleeping, doing God knows what… No. She had to come with him. He would find a way to convince her, even if it meant taking her to every police station in a twenty mile radius. He didn’t know what it was about her, but this strange woman brought out his deepest protective instincts. He couldn’t deny the primal urge her had to shield her from all of the bad things in the world. He couldn’t brush aside the irresistible desire he had to wrap his arms around her and soothe her fears. There was no denying his sudden affinity for her, but he was going to try to deny it anyway.

She sighed, her shoulders falling under what appeared to be an overwhelming weight. Carson felt a tug at his chest, wishing he could lift her burden. But there were more important things right now. He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted.

“Okay,” she conceded, “we’ll do things your way. What’s your plan?”

Carson wished he felt more satisfied with his victory; the slump of her shoulders and the hollow expression on her face made him feel guilty for being so harsh with her. He was letting the stress of the situation get to him; he knew he needed to make a concerted effort to keep his temper reigned in with Gemma. She seemed so fragile and delicate.

Carson cleared his throat, pulling the car back out onto the abandoned road.

“I have a few friends that may be able to help us.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

Gemma rolled her eyes.

“If you couldn’t tell, I was fishing for more information there,” she remarked with a hint of playfulness in her tone. The air in the car felt heavy and oppressive, she just wanted to lighten the mood a little bit.

“Right,” Carson answered, his fingers twisting around the steering wheel belying his cool facade.

“Well, we’ve all just been friends since grade school. We’ve gone our separate ways, but somehow all ended up back here fairly recently.”

“And… you think these friends of yours will be able to help us find Izzy?”

“If anyone can, yeah. I didn’t want to raise any alarms by bringing it up if there was nothing to worry about. Obviously, something’s going on though.”

Gemma nibbled her bottom lip thoughtfully. On the one hand, she knew that things like this were a job for the police or the national guard; civilians had no place crime fighting. On the other hand, Carson had a point: the police seemed to be pretty ineffective right now. If she wanted to feel safe in her own town and her own home, they needed to figure out what was happening. It seemed like it might be a bit bigger than just Izzy, but Izzy had to be their priority.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips. No matter what he said, Carson couldn’t do anything to soothe her raging anxiety. She wouldn’t be able to calm down until she saw Isabel safe.

“Yeah… Don’t they have other things to do though?” She asked. It was one thing for an unemployed teacher to drop everything for a friend; it was reasonable for a brother to put his life on hold for his little sister, but what about his friends? They couldn’t just press pause on their jobs, relationships, and obligations to help him, could they?

He chuckled, a warm and welcome change to the stony expression he’d been wearing.

“You’ll understand more when you meet them,” he answered.

Gemma wasn’t sure that she would, but she agreed to go along with his plans so she kept her mouth shut and let him drive. 

Chapter 8

Carson pulled into the back of a nondescript brick building, complete with rusted gutters and a fence hanging on by a prayer.

“This is your office?” Gemma asked, hesitating before she exited the vehicle.

“In a sense, yeah,” Carson grinned mischievously, a gleam of eagerness in his eyes.

“Oh… kay,” she replied after a pause. She didn’t get the joke; she felt like she was missing something but she didn’t know what. It was a frustrating feeling; she was out of the loop before she even knew there
was
a loop.

Carson casually walked around the side of the four-story building and opened the door that covered the stairs leading into the basement.

Gemma froze.

Okay, you followed him this far, but are you really about to go down into some creepy basement with a man you don’t know? Who even has a basement in Florida?
She asked herself. Another voice chimed in,
but he did save me, that has to count for something right?

Yeah, sure. But something isn’t the same as walking into the murder-basement.

Don’t be ridiculous, he’s not going to murder me. He went through too much trouble to save me to turn around and murder me…

Don’t say I didn’t warn you…

Gemma rolled her eyes at the warring voices in her head. She was just over-analyzing things. Carson had yet to set off any alarm bells with her and Gemma typically had pretty good luck listening to her instincts with people.

Murder-basement, here I come.

As Carson’s head disappeared below ground level, Gemma took a deep breath to steady her nerves before following him. Basements weren’t common with the water table being so high. She wasn’t used to the dank mustiness that assaulted her senses and made her want to turn heel and run. The open plank stairs creaked underfoot as she descended and she didn’t even want to think about all of the creepy crawly things that would scatter if she turned a light on.

She reached the bottom of the dark stairs and collided with Carson.

“Careful,” he warned, steadying her before turning back to the door in front of them.

He found the breaker box next to the door and opened it, his fingers fumbling in the darkness. The metal hinge opened with a squeak and a faint light illuminated the numberpad.

Gemma couldn’t follow him as his fingers deftly typed in a code, but she knew he must have entered the right numbers because the door answered by snapping its lock open.

Her anxiety only intensified now; murder-basement was bad enough in and of itself; murder-basement with a keypad lock meant she would be trapped.

Still, she forced herself to take a deep breath to soothe her ragged nerves.

The heavy metal door swung open and Gemma audibly gasped. She had imagined plenty of things in the few seconds before the door opened, but none of them quite like this.

The space was large, open and brightly lit. A good portion of the room was dedicated to a full bar, stocked to the tee. Another section was a lounge area, complete with comfy-looking couches and too-big TVs. To the far right there was a conference table and a hub of computers hooked up to what appeared to be a surveillance system.

Gemma never would have imagined from the ramshackle facade that this building contained this sleek, modern, high-tech space. It definitely wasn’t a murder basement, but she wasn’t sure what it was, exactly.

Once her eyes stopped roving constantly around the room, she noticed that there were other people scattered about.

One man —with sandy blond hair and an effortless smile — turned his attention toward the two of them.

“Warning! Female in the clubhouse! I repeat, this is not a drill. There is a human female on the premises,” he waggled his eyebrows in their direction. Gemma stifled a giggle, but Carson was having none of it; he side-stepped to block anyone’s view of Gemma. She was his and he wasn’t going to let anyone else look at her if he could help it.

“Back off, Trick,” he grumbled, his voice nearly a growl.

His tone took the other man off-guard for a moment, but Trick recovered quickly and his smile was back in place. He shrugged and turned his attention back to the TV.

“Oh, how about that play, Dez? He’s gotta be crazy to not kick a field goal here,” Trick enthused, elbowing the brawny man next to him.

The man — Desmond — munched absently on a bowl of cheesy puffs, his fingers orange from his snack binge. He grunted in response.

“Nah, they have a minute-thirty left and a time out. Field goal would only tie it. You gotta go for the win,” he replied, his mouth full of masticated junk food.

“You’re disgusting,” another man — this one tall and slender with dark hair and bright golden eyes — said with disdain.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you any manners? Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” he continued his scolding, punctuated with a roll of his eyes.

Trick reached his hand deep into the bowl of cheese puffs and shoved a fistful of them into his mouth, getting crumbs and neon orange powder all over himself in the process.

“I dunno wot yer talkin’ ‘bout, Aaron,” he joked, his cheeks swelled with crunchy snacks like he were a chipmunk preparing for winter.

Gemma stifled another giggle, taking in the whole scene. She didn’t know who these men were, but they certainly didn’t seem like they were going to kill her.

“I know that look,” a voice chimed in from behind the wall of computer monitors, “what’s going on, Carson?”

The tension in Carson’s shoulders seemed to melt away now that one of his friends had acknowledged it.

“I’m not really sure…” he muttered.

“
There’s
a big surprise,” Trick mocked, making Desmond snicker.

Carson glared in his direction; Trick nearly cowered in submission; he could tell that now wasn’t the time for levity.

The man behind the computers frowned, ruffling his ginger hair as he thought it over.

“Why not start with what you do know?”

“Or introducing your friend?” Trick added.

Carson gritted his teeth together; he couldn’t be angry, Gemma
was
kind of an afterthought standing behind him without saying a word. It wasn’t fair to neglect her.

“Right. Everyone, this is Gemma. Gemma, the asshole is Trick,” Trick inclined his head with a thousand-watt grin, “big guy is Dez…Desmond, Ty’s the nerd over there, and the Mistress of Manners herself, Aaron,” Carson finished, pointing at each of them in turn.

“Dick,” Aaron grumbled, but Gemma could tell he didn’t really mean it.

Ty nodded, looking over the group once more before turning his eyes back to the screen in front of him.

“Pleasantries aside, can we address the cause of your distress?” Ty asked with a matter-of-fact tone.

Carson made his way to the conference table with Gemma in tow and crossed his arms.

“Who said I was distressed?”

Aaron stood from the barstool he occupied and sat at the table opposite of Carson.

“Normally I’m the first one to say that Ty is worrying too much, but I have to agree with him on this one, man. What’s up?”

Gemma watched as Carson wrestled with how he wanted to word what he was going to say. His uneasiness permeated the air and made the other two men take notice, too.

Trick left his place on the couch and pulled a chair up to the conference table next to Aaron, his face suddenly serious. Gemma thought that the look didn’t suit him very well; his was a face used to smiling, anything less looked out of place. His somber expression seemed to resonate with Desmond because the hulking man lumbered his way over to join them all.

Carson glanced at Gemma, still searching for his words. She decided it was best to just rip the band-aid right off.

“My friend… Carson’s sister… Isabel, is missing,” she said, nerves making her voice shake. She’d never been much of one for public speaking or talking to strangers. Ten eyes looked at her and made her squirm in her chair uncomfortably.

Aaron was visibly the most alarmed by Gemma’s announcement, his eyes darted to Carson, looking for a different answer from him.

“Izzy?” he asked, his voice cracking.

Carson’s heart beat a frantic rhythm in his chest. This was his best friend in the whole world; they were closer to siblings than he and his actual sibling. Aaron had grown up with them, always like another brother. Then Izzy started getting older… things started to change and suddenly she didn’t want to talk to any of them any more. He expected Aaron to be upset; she was his little sister, too.

Carson nodded without a word. There were no words. They had to focus.

“She’s been missing for about a week —”

“And you’re only
just now
telling us?!” Aaron shrieked, color rushing to his face as all eyes turned to him after his outburst.

Carson cleared his throat calmly, his eyes pushing Aaron back into his chair with a silent command.

Gemma marveled at how easily the men defected to Carson as their leader. He was undoubtedly in charge of their little group.

“As I said, she’s been missing for about a week,” he gave a warning glance to Aaron before continuing, “but I didn’t want to bring it up here until I’d done my own preliminary investigation.”

“Who’s ass do we need to kick?” Dez asked, his mouth still smeared fluorescent orange.

Carson waited for Aaron to chime in; he expected him to tell Desmond that violence wasn’t always the answer, he’d been staunchly against aggression since he’d gotten home. Aaron didn’t say anything; he looked like he was already plotting his post-murder clean-up.

Carson shook his head, resting his palms on the table. He was too restless to sit like the rest of them. He felt Gemma’s eyes burning into him. He wanted to look at her, but he couldn’t risk losing his anger right now. This anger was going to help him find Izzy; he couldn’t have Gemma putting out the fire every time he tried to start the engine.

“I don’t know what’s going on exactly. I have some theories. Gemma can fill you in on some of the details up to this point. Ty, I need bank records, phone logs, internet searches, whatever you can get me.”

“Already on it,” Ty responded without taking his eyes away from the bluish glow of his computer screen.

Carson rubbed his tired eyes, trying to coax them to stay open for just a little while longer.

“Hey buddy,” Aaron said, standing to place a hand on Carson’s shoulder, “how long have you been awake?”

Carson shrugged though a yawn, trying to keep his tiredness at bay.

“And what about you?” Aaron asked of Gemma.

Her eyes widened in surprise, “Me?” No one had been paying much attention to her after their announcement. She was busy thinking about everything that had happened in the past couple of days.

“Um… What day is today?” She asked innocently.

Trick grinned broadly, leaning his chair back on two legs precariously.

“I like this one!” He said gleefully.

“Dez, do you mind?” Aaron asked.

The behemoth of of a man shook his head.

“Nah, it’s all good,” he said cryptically.

“Okay, come with me, guys,” Aaron instructed, waving them along behind him.

“Where are we going?” Gemma asked, catching Carson’s contagious yawn.

“There’s an apartment upstairs. You’re both useless until you get some sleep.”

Gemma frowned, “Maybe you’re the useless one. I’m not tired at all,” she argued, despite her eyes drooping steadily.

Carson muttered something unintelligible as he followed Aaron.

“It’s fine really. Ty’s going to need a few hours to see what he can dig up anyway; Dez and I might start canvasing. None of us are very good at being stationary.”

They made it to the top of a steep flight of stairs and Gemma was once again taken aback by the stunning surroundings. Everything in the apartment was modern, sleek and built for comfort.

“Woah… who lives here?” Gemma asked, fighting against the weights on her eyelashes.

“Uh… no one really. Desmond owns it, but he doesn’t really touch it.”

“That’s…. Weird,” Gemma said with another yawn interrupting her sentence.

Running on autopilot, Carson already found a plush bed and collapsed face down on it.

“So… he was definitely good to keep going,” Aaron joked.

“Look, Gemma, I want to talk to you about…” Her head dipped forward as her exhaustion took over for a split second; she jerked her head back, startled for a moment.

“Yeah? What’s that?” She mumbled.

Aaron shook his head and led her to another bedroom where she promptly fell onto the bed.

“I’m really not tired,” she protested with another big yawn.

“Okay, well, sit here for a few minutes and if you can’t sleep, come back down.”

Gemma nodded, already wrapping her arms around one of the overstuffed down pillows, and nuzzled down in for a nice nap.