Undisclosed (27 page)

Wesley and Deagan had been silent while Harlan finished watching the video of Scott in the Lab. Harlan walked to the window and looked out, his hands locked together behind his back. The other two remained engrossed in awkward silence. Deagan sat in one of the chairs keeping his distance. He had never liked Wesley, seeing him as nothing more than a pawn in his father’s game, an ass kisser who took every opportunity to belittle him. To Deagan he was a complete waste of space. If he had his own way, he would kill Wesley himself. Deagan glared at Wesley from across the room, while he puffed out a lungful of smoke.

“Wesley, I need you to do something for me.”

“Certainly, I will get the men on it immediately.”

“No, I’m needing you to do this personally. We are running out of time and I can’t afford any more mistakes.” Harlan leaned in close and muttered something into his ear. Wesley gave a quick nod and then left the room.

Deagan grumbled and sniffed as he stood to his feet. “Typical.”

“Son, you still have a chance.”

“For what?”

“To redeem yourself.” Harlan slid his arm around his son. “Here’s what you’re going to do.”

* * * * *

Lincoln returned and clicked on the TV, flipping his way through the channels, never settling on one for longer than a few seconds.

“The explosions at the Lab must have been picked up by the media.”

Ty was bent down, rooting through a small refrigerator; when one of the monitors flashed a light and let out a short series of beeps. He glanced up.

“Hey, Jack, looks like you’ve got a few customers. What’s that— your fifth one this month—you’ll soon have enough to retire.” Ty laughed. Jack shook his head and went out, Jayde following after him, offering to help.

Ty pulled out what looked like a small frost-covered metallic travel suitcase. He clicked it open and a stream of cold air billowed out. Inside the case were several auto injectors, bottles and an electronic device encased in a dark foam insert.

“This won’t solve it, but it may buy us a little more time.”

“You sure about that?” Travis asked.

“No, but we’re kind of out of options.”

“What’s it do?”

“It kinda works like white blood cells to fight infection.”

“How do you know so much about this?”

“Mother was in medicine, plus it’s kind of hard to interrogate a mutation,” he said. “Hunting all kinds of oddities in order to get information out of them, we needed a way to slow it down and reverse the effects of the genetic change. It doesn’t last long—an hour tops—depends on the severity, but … it’s better than nothing.”

Travis leaned back on a stool, curiously watching Jack on the monitor screen.

“What about Jack?”

“What about him?”

“Well, he’s not one of your kind, he’s not your father, so how did you meet?”

Ty pulled out an auto injector and began filling it from one of the glass bottles.

“We’d been working our way up the chain, trying to get people they controlled to turn against them in exchange for their own survival. It’s worked well. Several years back we got a tip from one of them that matched an increase in reports of strange lights in the sky, disappearances and local cattle mutilations happening in this neck of the woods. Jack had a wife who was pregnant at the time. When we found him he had been beaten within an inch of his life. If we hadn’t got there, he wouldn’t have made it.”

“And his wife?”

“She’d been taken. He was a mess, babbling about a bright blue light, reality vibrating and how they took her straight through a closed window … Now this might sting a little.” Angling Travis’s neck to the side, Ty positioned the injector close to the original area and then jabbed it in.

Travis groaned. Within seconds it felt like what he imagined battery acid would feel like coursing through his veins. Momentarily his body stiffened, as if someone had hooked him up to an electric chair.

“You’ll be fine in a few minutes. It’s working on your system.”

Eventually his rigid body relaxed. Ty gave him a can of pop to drink.

“So why don’t they just fly out of here? Like, I know you said they were imprisoned here but if they have developed craft, why not use that?”

“Trust me, they’ve tried in many ways. Inter-dimensional travel isn’t as easy as that.”

“So you’re telling—”

Travis’s phone cut in, ringing inside his pocket. He pulled it out.

“Ryan?”

Harlan spoke instead. “No, Ryan’s a little busy right now, but if you’re quick you can have a front row seat to the show. Switch to channel thirteen.”

Travis shouted to Lincoln to turn it to Channel 13, his eyes fixed on the screen. From the television the sound of a news reporter for KRQE NEWS 13 came over the speakers quietly. “Turn it up.”

“… we go now to Los Alamos, where KRQE anchor David Morris is leading our coverage. Good afternoon, David.”

“Good afternoon, Helen, well, as you know it started only a few hours ago when the FBI raided the home of a young LAHS teenager. An arrest was made and charges have been laid against the suspect who, we are being told, is responsible for hacking into Los Alamos National Laboratories and stealing highly restricted data.”

On the screen, earlier footage played of Ryan being led out of his home by FBI agents and escorted to a waiting vehicle, where he was rushed away. It cut quickly to a news conference, where a partly bald FBI agent was commenting.

“Due to LANL focus on national security, it gets attacked over three and a half million times a day by hackers, but this is the first time that material has been stolen.”

It was followed by a shot of the outside of the Federal Bureau of Investigation division in Albuquerque. Something about the agent’s face looked familiar to Travis but he couldn’t place him. The reporter continued.

“… There has been a major development here in the last hour. The FBI has been in and out of the suspect’s home and seized computer equipment and bags of material. That material has been taken for examination and hopefully we should have an update for you on that shortly.”

Travis slumped down into a chair, his ear to the phone.

“You have what you want, why do this?”

“Because I can. Now, it appears you still have something that belongs to me. The serum, the one you took from me at the Lab. I want it and you are going to bring it to me. ”

Travis paused a moment and then laughed. “Huh, it wasn’t on the phone, was it? You don’t have it, do you? What’s to stop me from destroying the only working serum right here and now?”

“Now that would be a stupid thing to do, but go ahead and I will kill everyone that has ever meant anything to you.”

“So I give you this, you let them live, but I die anyway. Not exactly an enticing offer.”

“And if I was to tell you that I can make this all go away, cure you, have your friend released, and return your father to you?”

“Do you think I’m an idiot? I hand this over to you and this world goes to hell in a handbasket.”

“Just like your father. Look around you, Travis. It already has and you know it has. I’m offering a way to improve it, empower it and advance it.”

“The only thing you want to advance is your agenda.”

“Stupid boy, I’m done playing games. You have less than eight hours to bring it to me. And just in case you or your Guardian friends plan on any further crazy ideas, I want to make something crystal clear. Check your phone.”

Travis held the phone in front of him; there was nothing. A moment later it chimed as he received a message in his inbox with an attachment. He clicked it and then the color in his face left. His chest stopped rising and falling as he took in what he was seeing.

“She really is looking delightful today, don’t you think?”

The photo was of his mother at the store; she was serving people behind the counter wearing the same outfit he had seen on her that morning. Everything was clear except a hand that had come into view when taking it.
When was it taken?
In the shot he could see the clock above her. Only minutes ago.

“Don’t you—”

“Eight hours, Travis, tick tock!”

The phone went dead. Travis’s eyes darted back and forth, his breathing began to get heavy, and his body went cold as fear gripped him.

He turned to Mason. “I need the keys to your car. I need to get to my mother’s store, now.”

Mason arched an eyebrow. “I’ll drive.”

Racing out of the store, they passed Jayde. “What, what’s going on?”

“Stay here, I’ll explain later,” Travis said.

* * * * *

Mason drove like a NASCAR racer, smashing the accelerator and slamming on the brakes as he whipped around the corners. He seemed thrilled and loving every second of it, as if he had always wanted to tear through the town’s streets in daytime hours. Travis was far from loving it. As the car slid from side to side nearly toppling him over and cracking his head against the window as they careened around bends, all he could think about was his mother.
What were they going to do?

The tension in the car was volcanic as they darted in and out of traffic, shot through red lights and took advantage of shortcuts across pedestrian pavement. Pedestrians leaped for their lives, hollering profanity and shaking their fists. Travis knew it would only be a matter of time and cops would be on their tail, but that was the least of his concerns.

Mason finally eased his foot off the pedal and began to slow the car down. They were almost there.

Living in the shadow of guilt over his brother was one thing; he never thought it could get worse until his father was taken, but now his mother? If anything happened to her he couldn’t forgive himself.

A moment later, Mason brought the car to a screeching halt outside the store. The motion of the car had barely stopped when Travis leaped out of it. Swinging the store’s glass door so hard the jangle of the bells above it nearly catapulted off, he surveyed the room. His mother was nowhere to be seen. Behind the counter, Rick had been in the middle of preparing coffee for a customer when his entrance startled him and the two customers.

“Where is she? Rick, where’s my mother?”

“She just left a minute or two ago for home with a couple of gentlemen about—”

“NO…”

“What’s going on?”

Without a second thought, Travis bolted back outside, nearly knocking over Mason, who’d only now made it to the door. Travis stopped and spun around in circles, looking over the throngs of people meandering along the sidewalk, hoping he could spot her before they left. He pushed through a number of protesting people in one direction and then stepped out into the middle of the street. The sound of angry horns blared as he dodged through the oncoming traffic, nearly causing a pile-up.

Mason appeared at his side. “Where are we going?”

“She’s not here!” he said. “Quick, we need to get to my house.”

Despite their continual knocking heads, Travis was grateful for any help he could get at this point. Travis and Mason raced back to the car and jumped in.

Trees, cars and people passed by in a blur, meshing together as one as the tires screamed their way back through the winding roads. Mason blew through multiple intersections, hopping several curbs and scaring more motorists. The brake pads let off the smell of smoke as they skidded up close to Travis’s house, knocking over several trashcans of garbage. Both of them jumped out of the car and rushed up to the front door. Travis entered, scanning each room and bellowing at the top of his voice.

“Mom? Mom? Where are you?”

As he turned into the kitchen, his mother had already gotten up to meet him, shocked and confused. “Travis, whatever is the matter with you?”

He let out a deep bellyful of air like a marathon runner having just made it over the finishing line.

Seated at the kitchen table with a bunch of paperwork were a few people in suits. Startled and slightly taken aback by the sudden intrusion, they sat wide-eyed and bewildered.

“Excuse us for a moment.” Laura took hold of her son’s arm and guided him back out into the corridor. Mason stiffened, indicating to Travis he would wait in the kitchen. Travis could see Mason sizing up the people at the table, before he turned and shook his head at Travis.

“What is up?”

“Nothing. I … thought. Well, it’s okay, forget it.”

“Listen, Rick put me in touch with some private investors. He said they may be able to help until your father is back. They’ve shown an interest in an idea with the store. It would mean letting the house go, but we would have a place, and well …”

Travis gave Mason a quick nod to indicate they should leave. “That’s good, Mom. We can talk about it later.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“YEAH, yeah … fine.”

She returned to the kitchen, passing Mason on his way out. About to step outside, Travis could hear the sound of sirens blaring, getting louder. His stomach went into knots. Turning behind him, he saw Mason was already gone. Oh man!

Before he had a chance to think, three police cars and two unmarked vehicles skidded up to the curb. Officer Davis was one of the first to jump out, followed by several other huge officers, their guns drawn and aimed in his direction.

“POLICE, DON’T MOVE!” they shouted.

Panic-stricken, Travis knew that with the clock ticking on his life, his only chance was to move. Not a good idea—he banged the door shut, dropped the serum injectors into an umbrella holder by the door and made a break for it out the back. Bolting through the kitchen, he heard the sound of the front door smash open. He dashed out the back door, once again leaving his mother and the men at the table gasping for words. He had only made it to the back fence when he felt the back of his jacket grasped by several hands and he was hurled to the ground.

“GET DOWN.”

He cried out. “I haven’t done anything.”

Travis struggled on the ground but it was pointless even trying to get up. Their knees were jammed into his shoulders, his arms already thrown behind his back and wrists pushed back.

“STOP RESISTING.”