Uninvited: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy Novel (The Dark Skies Trilogy Book Two) (3 page)

“
N
o really
,” I protest. “It’s okay. Ruby told me that you two already had plans for the spring formal and everything.”

“I tried to break it off, but she’d already bought her dress,” he replies, dropping his eyes. “So I couldn’t bail on her.”

“I understand.”

The truck is quiet. I just sit feeling the warmth of Chad’s hand in mine. With all the terrible things that have happened lately, I try to enjoy this small moment.

The drive takes a good twenty minutes as we head east out of the city slipping unnoticed into the dark winding canyon roads.

Just before we enter the National Forest, Fitz pulls into the parking lot of a low squat clapboard building that has a ten-foot long wooden fish on top of the roof along with a sign that reads “Heckel’s Greasy Spoon Cafe & Bait and Tackle Shop.”

“Heckles doesn’t usually stay open this late?” Chad frowns, gazing out the window as Fitz swings the truck into the last spot in the lot. “They’re usually closed up tight by 9:30.”

“Not for us,” Fitz says, getting out of the truck and striding along the side of the building. “We’re all set up in the back room.”

“You know this place?” Ruby asks Chad, sounding more stunned by the fact that any of her friends would actually eat at a hole-in-the-wall greasy spoon cafe, than the fact that she’s recently seen proof of alien life.

“Of course I have.” Chad pointedly looks at her like she’s nuts. “Best burger in the county. Not to mention, it’s the only place that can handle all your fishing needs.”

“Funny, I don’t have a lot of fishing needs,” Ruby shrugs.

“Me neither,” I say, getting out of the truck and taking BrightSky, currently a red umbrella, with me. “But I could really use a burger right about now. Even though I had one for lunch.”

“Too much red meat will kill you,” Ruby warns me.

“I’ll take my chances,” I say.

As we reach the side door, Fitz puts his hand on the handle then stops. “By the way, I can’t stress enough that you may not speak of the things you will see tonight.”

“Of course not,” I say for the group as we all nod.

“I’m serious. To anyone,” he firmly stresses. “The general public isn’t ready to know that aliens really do walk among us. And they’re certainly not ready to learn that we, as a planet, face a genuine threat in the form of the Draconian Swarm.”

Ruby pretends to lock her lips with an imaginary key. “Your secret is safe with us.”

Fitz pushes the door open revealing a large storeroom filled with a strange assortment of dry food goods and outdoor sporting gear. The stainless steel double doors to a big walk-in cooler take up an entire wall.

But in the center of the room sits a table, surrounded by three adults in black military fatigues and boots. They’re pouring over maps and charts and other official looking documents.

The weird thing is they seem to be inside a protective dome of purplish light like someone trapped them under a giant glass bowl.

We can see the trio talking to each other, but we can’t hear a thing.

“Whoa!” Chad says, as he and I cautiously approach the strange dome. A low static hum fills the air. “It’s like an energy field or something.”

“We call it ‘the cone of silence.’” Fitz explains. “It’s a photon shield. You can’t hear what they’re saying. Nor could anyone else who might be trying to listen in.”

“How do you get inside?” Ruby asks, looking sideways at the strange dome. “Or get out?”

“Right now the defenses aren’t activated.” Fitz just walks right through the dome like he’s stepping into a bubble. From inside, he waves to us.

Ruby winces. “Damn! I was expecting him to electrocute himself or something.”

“He said the defenses are down,” Chad repeats.

Fitz waves us in. Chad and I exchange looks.

Ruby takes a big step backward. “I am not stepping through some weird alien force field.”

“C’mon Ruby,” I say. “Fitz was fine.”

“No way,” she spits back.

“Okay, then.” Chad turns to me, holds out a hand and does a mock half bow. “After you, m’lady.”

I slip my hand into his. “Thank you, kind sir.”

Together, we step through the force field. The first contact feels like plunging into a cold swimming pool. But the cold sensation quickly fades into a warm glow.

On the inside, Chad reacts, “Wow! That was weird. And totally amazing at the same time.”

Inside the dome, I look back at Ruby, now alone outside of the cone of silence. I smile and try to wave her in.

She finally gives in, shakes her head in disgust, squeezes her eyes closed and rushes forward. Once inside, she brushes herself off like she has the heebie-jeebies. “Ick! That was so creepy.”

“So this is the princess,” A beautiful red-headed woman says kindly. “An honor to meet you.”

“I’m not a princess. I mean, not really,” I reply. “I know my uncle used to talk about how I came from the royal family of the lost Arctic people of Ivalo, and you guys say the seven sisters are princesses, but as far as I know, my father was a general, not royalty.”

“Actually,” Fitz corrects me. “Agent Simmons is right. It was your mother who was the general. Your father was the equivalent of a grand duke or a crown prince. It is his royal sword that you currently possess. And the lost Arctic people of Ivalo on Earth were descendants of the Lyrians.”

My mom was a military general? I look down at BrightSky, still in the form of an umbrella, in my hand. Bad on me. Guess I assumed the general in my family was my dad. Talk about sexist.

“Which means you really are a princess!” Ruby smiles, doing that weird excited clapping like a hummingbird thing. “That’s so amazing, your highness.”

A tall Asian man adds, “You have to forgive us for all gawking at you, Astrid. It’s just that we’ve heard about you for years. It’s a real honor for those of us who have dedicated ourselves to the Eye in the Sky organization to finally get to see you in person. My name is Hiro Tanaka. I’m the science and tech coordinator.”

The red head, and only woman in the group, steps up. Despite her delicate features and long curly red hair, she has the air of a kickass career military officer. “My name is Marissa Simmons. I handle weapons and tactical coordination.”

The silent bald giant leaning on the table on the edge of the bubble steps forward. “O’Malley. Head of security.”

The big guy’s clearly a man of few words.

I nod and reply in my polite voice, “Nice to meet you all.”

Fitz has had enough of the polite introductions. “Okay, now that you’ve met my crack crew, let’s get to work. Where are we on pinpointing the location of the exchange?”

“Our latest intel says we’re looking for a place —” Simmons reads from a piece of paper. “— where the clouds hang low and airplanes fear to tread.”

“That’s Putnam Pointe.” Chad immediately recognizes the name.

“And how exactly do you know that?” O’Malley asks Chad, sounding skeptical and generally annoyed to have us three in his photon dome.

“I grew up about ten minutes from here. My dad is a park ranger,” Chad explains. “If you’re looking for a place where airplanes fear to tread out in Flat Ridge Canyon then it must be Putnam Pointe. And it’s not just that they fear to tread. It’s illegal. I’m pretty sure the whole area is a no-fly zone.”

“Putnam Pointe?” Ruby also grew up in Ocean Grove. “Isn’t that area supposed to be contaminated or something.”

Chad nods solemnly. “The whole area is at the base of the deepest canyon. It’s all fenced off, and there are radioactive warning signs everywhere.”

Fitz’s crew scrambles to locate this area on their maps.

“I believe I saw something notated on one of the satellite images,” Simmons replies, pulling up a series of dark photos on her tablet. “It said it’s a hazardous waste storage facility.”

“Putnam Pointe used to be some sort of military base,” Chad explains, “Then it was turned into a huge nuclear fallout shelter in the 50s.”

“My grandpa said people were super worried about nuclear war back in the day,” Ruby tells us. “After all, California isn’t that far from the east coast of Russia.”

Tanaka adds, “The Putnam Pointe Army base was meant to house thousands of people. But eventually, the government turned it into a radioactive waste storage facility back in the 70s.”

“It’s a pretty remote location, nestled deep in one of the valleys,” Chad continues. “I’ve hiked out there, and it’s pretty heavily guarded by the army or someone.”

“No,” O’Malley scowls and shakes his head firmly. “There’s shouldn’t be any military personnel out there. It’s been out of commission for twenty years. At least.”

“Mister, I’m just telling you what I’ve seen,” Chad contradicts scary O’Malley. “And I’ve seen guards out there.”

The adults exchange looks, and Fitz says, “Interesting. Pull up the current satellite images.”

Fingers flying, Tanaka types into his keyboard eventually bringing up a grainy black and white satellite video on his laptop. “Looks like the kid is right.” Tanaka points to tiny moving dots on the satellite. “Someone’s out there.”

“If it’s Horlocks and Grails, we can expect them to be armed to the teeth,” O’Malley says darkly. “It’s not going to be easy to get in there when they make the handoff.”

“How do we make our approach,” Simmons asks.

Tanaka shakes his head. “No matter which way we approach, they’re going to see us. From their point of view, this is a very secure location.”

“What about the back entrance?” Chad tentatively offers.

“Back entrance?” Fitz asks.

“
T
here’s
no way a backdoor exists." Tanaka studies the schematics and shakes his head. “Any alternate entrance would have been barricaded decades ago.”

"Except I've seen it,” Chad argues. “With my own eyes.”

“When?” Fitz asks, his interest more than piqued. “Recently?”

“I haven’t hiked that way for a couple of months. It’d be easy to miss because it’s pretty much covered up by dirt and shrubs,” Chad explains. “But it's there. And it’s not barricaded.“

“Have you tried to open it?” Simmons asks.

“With all those hazardous-radiation signs posted everywhere?” Chad knits his brow. “No way.”

“Not to mention all the creepy stories about people disappearing out there,” Ruby adds. “And sightings of some crazy lizard-man thing.”

“The lizard-man?” I ask,

“There have been rumors and wives-tales about a tall lizard creature out in the foothills for years,” Fitz states. “It’s likely it’s Draconians. Probable, even. But right now, we need to know if Chad thinks he can get us to this hidden back door?”

Chad nods. “I’m pretty sure I can.”

“Our intel says that the hand-off will happen at midnight,” Simmons says. “So we need to get moving.”

After consulting a detailed map of the area, Chad outlines the route. It’s past 11 p.m. by the time our group piles into two army-issue Humvees.

Chad directs us past a scattering of farms and ranches until we're winding through an empty maze of rough, twisting mountain roads. We drive east, deeper into the pitch black canyon.

Ruby points to a lit yellow sign warning us about radioactivity and says, “Guess we're headed the right way.”

After we pass another half a dozen warning signs within about two miles, I whisper to Ruby. “Someone really doesn’t want people wandering around out here.”

Chad pipes up. ”There should be a small parking area just beyond that turn.” Chad directs the caravan through a narrow canyon road that opens up to a flat mesa. “But from here, we’re going to have to hike the rest of the way in.”

“I think leaving militarized Humvees in the parking lot might be a little too much of a giveaway,” Fitz says, directing the vehicles to pull off into the shrubby brush where we’re less likely to be noticed.

We all disembark in the darkness. Fitz and his team suit up, complete with futuristic alien guns. I see Chad and Ruby eyeing the weapons, but neither asks about them. They’ve both seen enough lately to know better.

Skirting along the edge of the dimly lit parking area, it becomes painfully clear that the only way into the canyon is to hike down a dangerously steep, twisting path.

Fighting our way through the darkness, while trying to remain quiet, our group makes it to the floor of the canyon.

It’s quiet. Like, weirdly quiet. I clutch BrightSky a little tighter at my side.

In the blue moonlight, Chad points toward the general area where he believes the entrance is located.

Fitz sends O’Malley and Simmons ahead to do a little recon. As they disappear into the shadows, a ripple of fear goes through me. We can’t blow this. If we do, I’ll never see my uncle again.

“Well, the kid’s right,” Simmons says upon her return. “The door is there. Must be some sort of maintenance entrance.”

“And it’s unlocked," O’Malley adds. “By the amount of debris and spider webs, it appears as if no one’s been out here in a while.”

Our group quietly marches in a line toward the back entrance to the abandoned facility. And by "facility" I basically mean a big metal door built into the side of the mountain.

After we pass the third radiation warning sign, Fitz looks worried. "How high are the levels?"

“I’m getting something.” Tanaka studies the readings on a high-tech radiation meter. “The Geiger counter is giving me a minimal reading right here. But we've got a good wind blowing, and we're at the farthest end of the facility. Let's see if the levels stay low once we get inside."

"Everyone has to agree to enter at their own risk," Fitz announces. “Even though the radiation reading is low here, this place could be contaminated with dangerously high radioactive levels at any point.”

"Then I should be the only one to go inside," I say, looking out over the group. “Radiation won't affect me like it will affect you guys."

“You don’t know that,” Fitz argues.

“I sort of do.” Because I’m not exactly human, I have a higher tolerance to most things that affect humans on this planet. “Anyway, there's no way I can live with myself if one of you gets sick because of this."

Everyone is looking at me, but no one is saying anything because they’re all silently thinking exactly what I’m thinking.

“Honestly, I’m tempted to keep all of you kids out here,” Fitz counters my idea. “But… since the levels are so low, we’ll see what happens as we progress. If it changes, then all three of you are ordered to immediately evacuate. Do you understand?”

The three of us nod.

“I’ve got the schematics, sir.” Simmons hands Fitz a digital tablet. “Unfortunately, anything in the records will probably be at least 20 years old."

"Don't think anyone's done any major redecorating lately.” Fitz shrugs as the schematics come up on the screen. "So this should, at least, give us the lay of the land."

The thick metal door groans as O’Malley opens it. The flashlights beam cuts across a long, narrow hallway.

“Radiation readings remains steady,” Tanaka says.

Fitz's team initially enters, with guns pointed, to clear the area. The rest of the group follows down the dimly lit hallway with cement floors and cinder block walls. It feels very 1950s.

As we walk, Simmons explains that when the Putnam Pointe facility was initially built, it was supposed to be a fallout shelter large enough to house a couple thousand people in the event of an atomic attack. Several entrances and exits were built, each with the ability to be blocked off to protect the people within.

Tanaka’s eyes stay glued to the radiation meter with every step. Twenty feet down the corridor, he reacts, "Whoa!"

“Everyone hold up,” Fitz orders and the group stops. "How bad is it?"

Tanaka jiggles the meter, shocked by whatever the radioactive meter reads. "Depends on what you mean by bad.”