The Dark Rift: Redemption (27 page)

He knew what she meant to them and felt like a coward for leaving her there. What he was sure of, though, was that they wouldn’t harm her if they knew who she was. They needed her too much. Maybe there was still time. "Dammit, Fester," he said, realizing he'd have to wake the others and break the news.

Chuck moved through the ship as quietly as he could, looking for a sign of someone who could help him find Mei. He knew Jodie would be heartbroken if he couldn't bring Mei back. Added to that, he felt the need to protect Jodie, not wanting her to feel bad about anything, ever again. But, being successful would probably put an end to his time with her and he found himself sad at the prospect that he might lose her in the end. That is, if they survived their own plan and if Gypsum didn't find them first. He decided to banish doubts and fears from his mind for the time being and reached into his suit for a Three Musketeers.

He was about to take a bite, but thought better of it and peeled the wrapper back before sinking his teeth into the soft chocolate. I'll have to start acting like a person again, he thought. Swallowing, he felt the energy from the candy bar course through his body. He didn't really know if he had veins or not. The new skin that had formed on his arms and legs seemed unnatural in a way, almost like a zipped-on suit. He was thankful for it because he could act like a normal person around Jodie, but it just didn't feel right. Like he’d felt in his uniform after he’d washed it in hot water and everything ended up drying a size too small.

Chuck walked through a bulkhead door into a large open room. Dimly lit by instrument panels, he could tell it was likely the command module, where the captain would be very soon. He approached a seat in the center of the room, seeing a steering yoke and throttle. Chuck pulled up on the throttle, dislodging it from its mount, and tore it out of the floor panel. Visiting each of the instrument panels, he reached underneath, found wiring, and yanked it free. Wherever he could find something to rip from its moorings or disconnect in some way, he pulled, ripped and shredded.

Feeling like he'd bought himself a little more time, he left the command module and moved into another part of the ship. Seeing a marker ahead that looked like a first aid sign, he walked forward, approached a door and entered a storage area with large black tubes lined up and strapped against the wall. An illuminated display panel glowed on the front of each of the tubes. Chuck walked over to the first one, seeing that it was made of metal, but had a glass plate at about eye level.

Straining to see inside the glass, he leaned in close, but couldn’t make out what the contents were. Then, something pinched him, hard. He reached up, feeling something sticking out of the side of his neck, just below his ear. "What the hell?" he said, pulling the dart out. He turned toward the door, seeing a man with a rifle aimed at him. Another dart hit him in the chest, making a pinging noise as it struck the metal of his skeleton. A third dart whipped by his face.

Chuck felt like he'd had enough, stepping toward the man with the rifle. As he approached, the man backed up and closed the door. Chuck could hear the locking mechanism as he reached for the handle. It wouldn't budge, so he cocked his wrist back and slammed his fist into the door. The sound of metal striking metal clanged in his ears.

Chuck backed up and rubbed his hand, seeing the exposed metal of his skeleton where skin used to be. He struck the door again, harder this time, but it was immovable. Looking at the metal of the door and that of his hand, he could see they were composed of the same material. He'd never get through.

His ears rang, hurting from the echoes of his efforts. Chuck suddenly felt dizzy and reached out to the wall, but couldn't quite make it there. Grasping at air, he tried frantically to find something to grab onto to keep himself from falling, but he hit the floor seconds later. "The dart . . . Oh, no," he slurred as the room went completely black.

* * *

Standing on top of the camper, Evan scanned the horizon for signs of movement, knowing the hills and valleys would hide Fester until he got out of the mountains. They must have traveled about fifty miles since leaving the truck stop, and Evan thought Fester would be headed back there to see if he could hitch a ride closer to Area 51.

"This is my fault," Christy said. "I knew I shouldn't have let him sit out there by himself. He was so upset about his parents and I shouldn't have left him alone." She kicked at a stone, sending it into the underbrush.

Nick put his arm around her shoulders. "It's not your fault. I knew something was wrong, too. I could've talked to him."

Christy pulled away. "Yes, but I should have known better when he wouldn't come in."

"Well, parents," Evan began, as he jumped down from the ladder on the back of the camper, "If there's one thing I know about children, there's no stopping them when they make up their minds. No one is to blame for anything."

Nick and Christy looked at him for a moment. He could tell Christy wasn't going to stop beating herself up about it.

"We'd better get to following him, or we'll never find him," Nick said. "We'll have to leave our information for the store owner, like we talked about, and come back to pay later."

Evan turned toward Nick and Christy. "You know we can't take this," he said, pointing to the camper, "anywhere near that truck stop. Not only are the people there bound to be unfriendly toward us now, but we'd never outrun Gypsum in this thing."

"Well, we have to try to get closer, at least," Nick said. "If he has a six-hour head start on us, maybe walking about four miles per hour, he'll probably only be halfway back to the truck stop. If we can't find him, maybe we can hitch a ride closer to Area 51."

"Fester said he was gonna leave a note, too," Noah said.

"What's that?" Christy asked.

"Fester . . . he said he was gonna leave a note for whatever he took."

"Come with me, Noah. Let's go see what he's got," Nick said. "We'll be right back." Hunter trailed behind as Nick and Noah walked around the building.

Evan looked over at Christy, noticing her feelings appearing to get the better of her. "It won't help to blame yourself," he said. "We're all to blame, if anyone is. I could tell that boy had a storm brewing in his mind."

"That's not what I'm thinking about," Christy said, kicking at the dirt.

"What is it?" Evan asked.

"I . . . I won't take Noah back in there," she said, her voice wavering. "I won't put him in that kind of danger. He's not like Fester. He's never even fired a gun. I think we have to make the right choice here. I love Fester, but we'll all die if we go after him."

Evan put his hand on her shoulder. "My thoughts, exactly," he said. "We'll go far enough down to find transportation and then I'll continue on. I had it in my mind that I'd go back for Jodie once you were safe. I can't leave her there."

"No, Evan, you can't --"

Evan held up his hand for her to stop. "I can and I will. I'm probably the only one who can. I know my way around the inner workings of that facility from the old days, working with Helen. I can't imagine it's changed too much, with the exception of a new coat of grey paint on everything. The government has a limited palette, you know."

"But, how will you get past all those things . . . what we let out. . . and Gypsum? They're probably roaming the hillsides already, looking for escapees."

"That's what I'm counting on," Evan said. "I hope to give myself up. I'll tell them I want to swap myself for Jodie."

"Evan, you can't. That's suicide. Plus, they won't let her go. They'll probably kill both of you."

"My dear, why do you underestimate me so?" Evan said, smiling. "I still have a few tricks under my hat." He knew he was telling a lie. Returning to Gypsum would be a one-way trip, but this time, he'd make it count like no other.

Hunter ran toward them, wagging his tail, followed by Noah and Nick. Nick held a piece of paper with a note written on it. "It's for you," he said, handing it to Christy.

Christy took the note and read it out loud. It said,

"Dear Mrs. St. John, I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye when I left, but I didn't want you to stop me. I'll find Officer Wending and he'll help me. Please don't let Noah come after me. Love, Tim."

Christy's tears hit the page before she could fold the note up.

"Why did he say he doesn't want me to come?" Noah asked, his lip quivering.

Christy reached out and pulled him close, stroking his hair. "Because he wants you to be safe so that you're here when he gets back."

"He took a lot of water and food. At least we know he'll have enough to eat," Nick said, holding up the list Fester had made. "And he took this." Nick pointed at the last entry on the page. "Gun from under the counter."

* * *

Jodie sensed the feeling slowly coming back to her arms and legs as she lay on the gurney. She tried not to move, not wanting to alert Gypsum that the drug was wearing off. Maybe she'd be able to surprise them yet.

"We're ready to move her now," a man said. "It'll be some time before takeoff because the cop messed up the command module, but we can put her in storage for the time being."

Jodie wondered what "put her in storage" meant. She hoped it didn't include another shot of whatever cocktail they'd given her previously. She felt the gurney moving ahead and traveling down a ramp. Tilting her head ever so slightly, she could see the black outline of the ship she'd seen earlier. Chuck was nowhere in sight.

"Want her to go to medical or right to the cryo room?" a man asked.

"Better take her to medical," Hana said. "I need to take some blood and run a few tests while we're in transit."

Jodie felt someone squeezing her hand and lowered her eyes to see Hana gripping onto her.

"I'll go get help. We'll have to carry her in there," the man said.

"Okay, I'll wait here," Hana said. A few seconds passed and then she leaned down closer to Jodie's face. "Whatever you do, don't let them know you can move. I'm going to get us out of here, but you have to stay absolutely still. Do you understand?"

Jodie nodded, just enough so Hana would know she understood. Yet, she didn't really understand. Why had Hana drugged her to begin with if she was going to help her escape? And where was Chuck? What had they done to him?

Hana backed up as two men approached. "Be careful with her. She's very valuable."

"Yes, ma'am," one of the men said as she felt her body being gently lifted and placed on a stretcher. "You better feed her before cryo. She doesn't weigh hardly anything."

Hana nodded. "What have you done with Officer Wending?"

The man grunted as they moved up the ramp leading into the ship. "He's still in storage. We couldn't figure out anything else that could hold him. Before we take off, we'll tranq him again."

"Storage?" Hana asked. "The one next to cryo?"

"That's the one," the man said. "Don't worry. He can't get out. That room's made of the same metal he's made of. He couldn't even make a dent."

* * *

Chuck woke up, feeling like he'd been on an all night bender. His face was sticky and he reached up to find that the skin had been torn off of his cheek. He pulled his hand away, seeing a white, gooey substance instead of blood. "God, that's gross," he said, flicking his hand to rid it of the goo.

Chuck sat up, trying to remember what had happened to him. The pain in his neck brought back his memory. Running his hand along his skin, he felt a raised area where the dart had penetrated. He pressed down, feeling soft tissue beneath his fingers, probably the only place on his body he had a sufficient thickness of flesh to allow a dart to penetrate deeply enough to allow the chemical to enter his vascular system. If he had one anymore, that is.

Looking at his hands, he found that he had no skin on any of his knuckles, the result of beating on the door. I'll have to find another way out of here, he thought. Chuck lay on his back and tried to think. Then, he looked up at the vent cover in the ceiling, feeling a smile creep across his face.

* * *

Christy held onto the seat as Nick pulled into the rutted campground and parked.

"Stay here. I'll go see what I can find out," he said as he jumped out of the camper.

"I'm coming with you," Evan said. He stepped toward the door, then turned back. "Christy, my dear, in the event that we need to leave quickly, maybe you'd better keep the motor running."

"But, Evan," she said. "The fuel. We need to --"

"I won't be long," he said, closing the door.

"Should I go, too, Mom?" Noah asked, standing up and moving to the door.

"No, honey. Stay put. I don't know what they're up to, but I think it's probably no good. They'll probably need your help when they get back."

Christy wondered what Evan was doing, but thought it was safe to guess it had something to do with the dirt bike strapped on a trailer up ahead. She pulled out her notepad and started to write, scrawling down whatever she could remember from their ordeal that had started only a few weeks ago, yet had changed every bit of life as she knew it.

Evan had convinced Nick that he needed to get her back to civilization where she could report on the story of Gypsum. She would tell the story of their plan and the conspiracy reaching into the highest levels of government, worldwide. He'd talked passionately about it being the only thing that would keep them safe. To topple Gypsum once and for all. To send those alien bastards back to where they came from.