Welcome to the Dream (A Celeste Cross Book, #1) (19 page)

As she sat there, pressed up
between McDougall and Gustaf, she didn't make a noise. She looked
entirely calm too, her cheeks relaxed, her lips pressed together
gently. He wouldn't be surprised if she eventually nodded off. How
fantastic would that be? How calm and nonchalant would you have to
be to snooze in a helicopter while you were being transported to a
secret government agency to be studied in a lab?

He was kicking himself for
this, he really was. If he'd been more careful around her, this
would never have happened. It was a strange regret to have though,
because he knew that Celeste could prove to be an invaluable
resource to their cause. Still, he hated that she'd been dragged
into this. She was just so normal and nice, not really the kind of
girl that belonged in this world. Yet strangely, she was dealing
with everything better than he could have imagined.

The ride to Headquarters was
a long and boring one. Usually that didn't bother Jack; he always
found something to do. Either it was cracking out a book, having a
conversation, or nutting out a new strategy. Not this time though,
hell no; he couldn't drag his gaze from her. He couldn't stop
wondering what Knight had in store for her.

She started to snuffle
slightly, and then her head began to drop forward.

She's actually
falling asleep.
He
thought, and he couldn't help but give a crooked little smile.
Despite everything that was going on, and despite where she was
headed – she was just having a quiet little nap.

He caught McDougall's gaze,
and the large Scotsman twisted his head to her, one bushy eyebrow
arching up. Then he shot a questioning glance back at Jack. Jack
simply shrugged his shoulders in reply.

If she wanted to sleep, she
could sleep. In fact, she should probably get as much as she could,
because once Knight had their hands on her, things would get
hectic. They would be keen to submit her to tests
immediately.

Jack straightened up,
pressing his back into the metal behind him. He glanced at his
side, noting that Cindy was staring at Celeste with an intense
look.

She'd already pointed out to
Jack that Celeste had been the odd and extremely suspicious woman
from the church tour group that Cindy had mentioned. Cindy had
taken this as evidence that Celeste was dodgy, and maybe even
working for Shadow. Jack just didn’t believe that. Okay, he hadn't
known Celeste for long, but she didn't seem to be the type to be a
secret operative. She had been so genuinely surprised by what was
happening to her.

That didn't stop Cindy
though, and her jaw was now set, her arms crossed, the round of her
back pressed into the metal behind her as she watched the sleeping
Celeste through wary and narrowed eyes. One look around the chopper
told Jack Cindy wasn't the only one who was on edge. They were all
surprised, and more than anything, they were suspicious. Maybe
going through their heads was the same thought: for a demon to be
scared of a human logically meant there was something wrong with
that person. In their minds, the Yaoguai wasn't scared of Celeste
for some inane reason. Oh no, for a creature that vicious to be
frightened of a woman, meant she had to pose some massive threat.
The rest of his team no doubt thought that at any moment she could
snap, and bring down the helicopter with them in it. If Jack were a
good commander, he would hold that suspicion too. He should be
prepared to act in any circumstances.

The thought of Celeste
being . . . what? Some kind of monster herself, it
didn't make sense though. She was human, he knew that, and they'd
never faced a Yaoguai that looked anything like a real person.
Shaped like a human, yes, but they were still made out of crackling
blue energy and that was a dead giveaway.

Celeste flopped her head
back against the metal side of the helicopter. Now she really was
asleep.

Cindy gave her an
incredulous look.

As the flight wound on, Jack
tensed up as he thought about what would happen when they arrived
at Knight Headquarters. He envisioned the kind of forces that would
be mobilized - every scientist they had would be at
hand.

Before Jack could explore
that train of thought much, he heard the pilot receive a crackled
call.

Jack was the only one who
turned towards the cockpit.

‘
Repeat that?’ the pilot stated
clearly, voice even.

Jack straightened, turning
all the way towards the cockpit now, getting ready to stand up if
he had to.

‘
All right, relaying message now.
Sir,’ the pilot's voice echoed loudly through the chopper. ‘We got
a call. Seems a team is engaging an infection not far to our west.
We could be there in 10 minutes. They need back up, they need it
fast.’

Jack was on his feet, and he
pulled himself towards the front of the helicopter, until he
latched a hand on the back of the pilot's chair, leaning
down.

Every member of his team was
now alert – some had also jumped to their feet. They all knew the
stakes; they'd been through their fair share of battles with the
Yaoguai, and they knew how much trouble that team must be in if
they were asking for backup so desperately.

Jack couldn't turn the
chopper around to help them, could he?

‘
They're coming right at us,’ a
voice crackled over the radio, it was high and tight with stress.
It was the commander of the unit requesting assistance.

Jack's stomach
tensed.

‘
We need backup, we need
everything you've got, and we need it now. We are pinned down with
no escape. They are coming right for us.’ The man stopped and Jack
could hear the sound of footfall filtering over the radio, followed
by the punctuated sound of bullets ripping through the air. Jack's
fingers tensed over the pilot’s chair, the flesh of his fingers
digging into the unyielding fabric of the seat.

‘
We need what you've got, and we
need it now,’ the man shouted into his radio. ‘Now.’

Ami was on her feet, and she was
right behind him. ‘I know that voice. It's Peterson. We just
recruited him – he’s really promising. He's motivated – lost his
wife in a Yaoguai attack.’

Jack tensed. Every instinct
he had as a soldier told him that he couldn't leave that man
behind. He couldn't abandon an entire team to the
Yaoguais.

Could he fly this chopper to
their aid when Celeste was on board though? Knight had been clear –
they wanted her, and they wanted her now, and flying over to rescue
this team, though gallant, would be suicidal if they risked
Celeste. She could turn out to be more than valuable in the fight
against the Yaoguai.

‘
We have to go, sir,’ Cindy said
as she punched to her feet and strode to the front of the chopper.
‘I know that area, and it's close to a highway.’

‘
How close is the nearest
backup?’ he demanded.

The pilot took a moment to
calculate. ‘Based on radio signals, maybe a good 20 minutes. We
could get there in 10 though.’

The difference between 10
minutes and 20 didn't sound like a lot, but Jack knew it was a
virtual millennium when the Yaoguai were concerned. He was now
faced with the gut wrenching conclusion that if he decided not to
help Peterson, he’d be condemning the man to death.

Though he could see Cindy
fidgeting, no doubt ready to plead with him to turn around and get
Peterson, nobody else interrupted him again. He was their commander
– it was his decision. He was the strategic and tactical leader,
and he knew far more about Yaoguai than anybody else on
board.

He turned from the cockpit,
glancing through the belly of the bird, until he rested his gaze on
Celeste. She was awake now, pressed forward in her seat, cheeks
flat, expression concerned. ‘Just go,’ she said, as she looked his
way. ‘If you're worried that I'm on the helicopter, it doesn't
matter. If those people are in danger, go and help them. If you
think I'm going to run away, handcuff me to the bloody door. Just
go.’

He wasn't going to handcuff
her to the door, and he wasn't afraid she was going to
escape.

‘
Just go, Jack. You can take me
to Knight after. Maybe you can split up your team, take half of
them down there, and let the chopper go. I'm not going to give
anybody any trouble.’ Though her skin was pale, her eyes were
pressed wide, she still had a certain surety about her.

Jack turned around. ‘We're going
to intercept.’ He angled his head down to the chopper pilot. In an
instant, the bird began to turn.

This was possibly a bad
call, one he'd likely regret before the end of the night. He
couldn't ignore Peterson's desperate plea though, especially when
he knew exactly what was waiting for the guy if he didn't get any
help.

Jack's team got to their
feet. Beginning to prep, angling the straps of their guns over
their shoulders, tugging their night-vision goggles from their
packs. Celeste watched them with open eyes, but if she was afraid,
she wasn't really showing it. Concerned, yes, surprised, and
intrigued by what was going around her, definitely, but shaking
with the kind of fright a Yaoguai should elicit, no.
Just what's your
secret, Celeste?
He
found himself thinking.

It was a slow 10 minutes,
but eventually the bird touched down in a clearing, a thick forest
pulling up around it. When Jack turned, nodding to McDougall, and
flicking his head towards the chopper, the giant Scotsman got the
picture. Though seconds before he'd been ready to join the fight,
McDougall backed off, and took up a post next to
Celeste.

Celeste stared at the Scotsman,
expression crumpling, the move visible even under the poor, soft
lighting of the chopper. ‘Isn't he one of your best?’ she asked,
voice a mere whisper, maybe not wanting to draw attention to their
position. ‘Don't you need him?’

Jack ignored her, tugging at
his rifle as he began signaling to the rest of his team.

‘
Seriously, if you're worried I'm
going to run, just handcuff me to the bloody door.’

Nobody spoke to
her.

Instead, they began to move
out. McDougall brought up his rifle and pressed it to the front
door of the chopper, but Jack could tell that in an instant the
Scotsman could pivot on his foot and turn to Celeste
too.

Though Jack knew Celeste
couldn't be a threat, he couldn't seem to communicate that to the
rest of his team. He just hoped McDougall wouldn't do anything
rash. In fact, that was why he'd picked the giant Scotsman in the
first place; of all his team, McDougall was the most experienced
and was the least easily flustered.

Though Jack had wanted to
guard Celeste, he knew that wasn't possible.

They pushed off. Though
Celeste and McDougall remained with the chopper, even the pilot
cane along with the rest of the team.

The night was relatively
bright now. The sky was clear, there was a warm summer's breeze,
and a light rustling of leaves filtered through the air. That
still, whisper of the night now mixed with the slow, careful
footfall of his team as they moved forwards.

Celeste Cross

He was being an idiot.
Jack was being stupid. Seriously, what was he doing leaving one of
the best members of his team to guard her? If Jack was worried she
was going to run off, she'd told him several times to just tie her
up. She had
no
intention of
merrily skipping off into the forest and evading the Army. She
wasn't an idiot; if she started running from them now, they would
start treating her like the prisoner she no doubt was. All niceties
would end – she would be tracked down then dragged off to Knight’s
headquarters. She trusted Jack, she knew he was decent and kind and
would do the right thing for her, whilst of course managing the
rest of the responsibilities he had. Yet McDougall was still
standing there, gun half pressed towards the front door, and yet
half twisted towards her.

Maybe that wasn't what they
were worried about. Maybe they didn't think she was going to run
off, but she was going to turn into a Yaoguai and start attacking
them from behind. It was a mind-numbing thought – one Celeste
hadn't yet had time to come to terms with. But she wasn't a bloody
Yaoguai, she wasn't going to attack them, and she could appreciate
how silly it was to divide their forces when things sounded so
fraught.

She wasn't about to protest
that fact any further though; she doubted McDougall would care, and
she figured he'd probably get angry at the fact she was drawing
attention to their position. She just sat there, back pressed up
against the hard metal behind her and lips folded tightly against
her teeth.

It was such a pressured,
terrible thing to do nothing but sit there and wait. Occasionally
she heard the sound of bullets, but it seemed far off. All she
could do was close her eyes and try to stop herself from imagining
what was happening to Jack.

Soon she realized she
couldn't hear the sound of gunfire anymore. As that thought arose,
she glanced over to McDougall. He'd taken a step towards the front
of the chopper, and his neck was craning through the door,
obviously trying to survey the dark world before them. He looked
tense, and he appeared to be getting tenser by the second. She was
sure the fact they could no longer hear the sounds of battle was
not a good sign.