Hounds of dawn, p.31
Hounds of Dawn, page 31
“Fine.” She paused, trying to figure out a way to convey her thoughts without sounding whiny or dramatic. “I think of myself as a capable and independent person. I can handle myself. Never had a choice, you know?”
A grunt was all she got in response. Probably a ‘Yes, I do know’ grunt, judging by the inflection. She was rusty at translating Ivan's grunt speak.
“It occurs to me that you have princess-carried me.” She shuddered dramatically to demonstrate just how revolting she found the concept. The vehicle weaved wildly. More horns blared.
“Twice,” Ivan said flatly as he reached over and steadied the wheel. When the shaking and weaving stopped, he sat back and resumed his relaxed position, gazing out at the road.
“Wow. You are counting,” she groused. “Anyway. Thanks. That’s—” She looked over and his expression was distant and blank. She eyed the scar on his arm and looked away again. “Just thanks.”
His only response was a grunt. Again. This one she couldn’t translate.
“Good talk, big guy.”
“What in the hell is going on?” an angry shout erupted from the back of the RV. A loud bang followed the sounds of stumbling. “Ow, who puts a cabinet that low?”
“The asshole’s awake,” Ava announced grumpily.
“Why are we swerving? Have they found us?” Sam asked as he rushed to the front and knelt on a single knee between the seats Blue and Ivan occupied, alert and ready to fight. He looked out, searching for potential threats.
“She was talking,” Ivan informed him.
“She can’t talk and drive?” Sam asked sarcastically, still scanning for threats.
“Nope,” Ivan replied, popping the p sound at the end of the word with a smack of his lips.
“I would be extremely offended if it weren’t true,” she told them in her best offended voice. Damned if the RV didn’t swerve again. Why could normal people do this, and she couldn’t?
“For God’s sake, pull over before you kill us,” Sam ordered, and Blue felt herself jerking on the wheel. She didn’t want to. But she couldn’t help it.
“No. No. No. No.” She watched in horror as the guard rail grew closer. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if she could steer without disaster like a normal driver before he compelled her to turn the wheel. That was not the case, and this was a disaster. She let out a startled squeak as tires screeched. They skimmed the guard rail which was the only thing that kept them from tipping over. The cabinets flew open, and their contents scattered. Sam struggled to stay upright, even kneeling. The left instead of the right side of the camper roared with the rumble strips now.
“Great job, genius,” Ava yelled from behind her.
“When it's safe! When it’s safe! Get us to an exit and find a safe place to park,” Sam corrected, gripping the backs of the captain’s chairs to steady himself. “Christ.”
She managed to pull back into the lane of traffic and steady the vehicle, blowing out a shaky breath, heart racing, and cut a glare at Sam.
“Watch the damn road,” he ordered, and her eyes snapped forward. “Don’t talk,” he finished as he stood up. “Wait. This isn’t the right direction. Did you get us lost?”
Ivan, who had remained stoic through the whole ordeal, continued to gaze calmly out the window.
“Is anyone going to tell me what is going on?” Sam asked in frustration. “That sign says Denver.” He pointed at a sign over the interstate. “We are supposed to be going in the opposite direction.”
“It’s her story to tell, brother. And she can’t talk,” Ivan told him.
Ava burst into giggles. Blue did, too. Sam hadn’t told her not to laugh and her giggles turned into belly laughs quickly. Ivan reached out again to steady the wheel, then put his hands behind his head, relaxing further into the seat like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Oh, that is good. I’m starting to like the scary, grunty one,” Ava crowed.
Blue could see in the reflection of the windshield that Sam’s head whipped around to look at their charge. “Not you. Ms. Blue is right. You are still an asshole, even if you aren’t sweaty. Where is your shirt? You had a shirt before. What did you do with it? The rest of us kept our clothes on,” Ava deadpanned, which only made Blue laugh harder. Sam had been nothing but nice to Ava. The girl was just messing with him at this point. It was glorious. She saw an exit ahead and began carefully navigating in that direction.
Without another word, Sam stomped toward the back of the camper. In the reflection of the window, she saw Ivan crack a smile. Worth it.
38
Finn
Finn felt like he was being sucked into a rainbow-colored tornado. Holding hands was a good call because the umbrella brutally bashed them against strange electric membranes. Everyone screamed. Finn was just holding on and praying they could remember to give the umbrella their magic, however a person would do something like that. They landed somewhere noisy. He fell to his knees and felt Greenlee let go of his hand. His stomach caught up with him a moment later, and he fought the urge to vomit. Someone else didn’t. A retch and a splat sounded to his right. He jammed a fist into his gut and slammed his mouth shut. People were yelling nearby. He looked around. They were in a narrow, dead-end hallway next to an empty break room. Greenlee lay face down on the floor next to him, shaking his head, his hand still clutching the umbrella. Nisha leaned against the soda machine, and Ben sat against the wall at the end of the hallway. There was no one watching them. He looked up and into the corners, then inspected the ceiling tile. There were no cameras. More importantly, there was no Devon.
Greenlee peeled himself off the floor and looked around blearily. He only made it to his knees. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked pale. “Everyone make it? Where are we?”
“Denver?” Nisha answered in a weak voice. “Airport? It’s so loud. People are excited.” Finn looked closer at the group’s mind reader. Her hands were shaking badly as she raised them to her head. Blue made this look easy.
“Everybody up,” Finn instructed. “We need to move.” For the first time, he was not the person who fared the worst from skipping across the nightmare electric rainbow. Greenlee groaned and leaned down to place his forehead against the cool tile. Between the beating he took earlier and whatever had happened during the opening stages of Operation Umbrella, he looked like death.
“Give us a minute.” Ben leaned forward and wrapped his fingers around Greenlee’s wrist. It took Finn a moment to realize he was taking his friend's pulse. Ben looked up at Nisha, who was still upright, but not by much. “You OK?”
“No.” She shook her head, taking long, deep breaths like she was trying to settle her stomach. “But Cade Rhodes is around here somewhere. Small army of paparazzi is forming.”
Finn frowned. Why would Rhodes announce his location? Unless it was a distraction. “I need to figure out where we are.”
“I’ve got him. We can’t move him right now,” Ben instructed as he helped Greenlee shift to sit leaning against the wall.
“If you see someone coming this way, just think really loud,” Nisha instructed.
Finn was already moving out of the hallway, pulling his phone from his pocket, and dialing Hale. “Boss! You made it!” Hale answered.
“Mostly. We are at the Denver airport. I’m trying to get eyes on Devon.” He emerged into a hallway that led to a concourse and a wall of people. To his right, a long hallway led to a set of people movers. He looked closely at the people heading in that direction. No one was acting out of the ordinary, and none of them looked like any of the people he was looking for. His eyes found two people who did not look like they belonged; they carried themselves differently than a normal traveler. They were methodically looking for someone or something. He didn’t know how to think loud, but he gave it his best effort. “I don’t see her. But I think I see a few goon squad lackeys.”
“Should I send a team?”
“No. I don’t know what we are dealing with yet.”
“You got it. We will be on standby.”
“Thanks, Hale.” It was good to have his friend back on the team. Finn hung up and turned quickly, walking casually back to where he came from. Nisha walked out as he drew close. Her walk was stiff, and she looked like she was carrying something heavy. She smiled politely but distantly and walked right past him with Greenlee’s ugly messenger bag slung across her body. Finn frowned until he felt a hand that he couldn’t see wrap around his hand and squeeze quickly before it was gone. They were disguising Greenlee. “Thanks, Hale. I will keep you posted.” He hung up and glanced into the hallway, where Ben fished a candy bar from a machine in the break room. His hat was pulled low over his eyes, and Greenlee’s backpack was on his back. His shirt was untucked. He looked generally disheveled.
“Gotta keep her fed.” Ben smiled and exited the hallway, falling into an easy stride next to Finn. His head was low as he walked. “She scares me a little.”
“The best always do. Let’s slow down to put some space between us. Did she hear me?” Finn asked. He glanced over his shoulder. The mob on the tarmac was breaking up, and people trickled into the lobby. He didn’t see the goon squad among them.
“Yeah. We thought we should move. And they obviously know who Greenlee is, so we hid him. They are meeting us at the first opportunity for food. We need to get him hydrated and his blood sugar under control or we will be carrying him. I know we need to move, but he needs to rest. She does too. She just hides it better.” Ben stepped smoothly onto the people-mover.
“You seem relatively unscathed,” Finn noted, taking a closer look at Ben Hughes. His color was fine, and he did not appear to be tired.
“That was nothing compared to keeping these guys under control.” He tapped his head and shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “She says she can hook us up with transportation under a name that won’t tip the goons off.”
“Squeaky clean Stalker Prime is just full of surprises, isn’t it?” Finn asked, thinking the same thing about Ben Hughes.
“I don’t know who the good guys are anymore,” Ben told him.
“I’ve seen a lot of things in this life Ben,” Finn followed the signs to the car rental area. “There are no good guys. Just people who are less bad in a given situation.”
“That’s dark,” Ben winced.
“No less the truth.”
They walked in silence until they reached a small but busy retail area. Nisha already had a large tray of food, and it was spread out across the table. A cup sat on the far side of the table with the straw pointed away, as if she was done with her meal and waiting to clean it up. A leather journal sat on the table as if she might be reading it. Her hair was covered in a floral bucket hat, and she wore a hot pink Denver sweatshirt. She lounged and surfed her phone distractedly. Nisha and Greenlee hadn’t wasted time.
As they walked by, she glanced up, meeting Finn’s eyes for a moment before looking back down. Finn saw a french fry disappear from the tray. Nobody else would have noticed. He had underestimated this woman.
Finn and Ben got their own food and sat three tables over, not acknowledging Nisha and the still-invisible Greenlee. Finn finished his food and watched the neighboring table out of the corner of his eyes. He was pretty sure Greenlee was eating Nisha’s food, too. She wandered away to grab a cinnamon roll and another drink, taking a small bite and placing it in the same haphazard manner on the now crowded table. “She isn’t eating anything,” Ben mumbled to Finn in disapproval, and he wasn’t sure if it was the medical professional speaking or someone who didn’t want to deal with a cranky travel companion. They had already been here an hour, and she should have eaten something.
His phone rang before he could respond. “Go grab some food to go,” he instructed Ben as he answered the call, expecting it to be Trix or Hale. “This is Torrin.”
“Torrin. This is Rhodes. We are safe.” Cade Rhodes’ voice carried over the line.
“Good to hear it,” he replied with relief. He wasn’t sure if the umbrella had put them near Devon or just hurled them to a random destination. “Where are you?”
“I’m hesitant to disclose that information. Someone has been one step ahead of us the whole way. I had to create a distraction. They were waiting for us at two airports. Neither was on my flight plan.”
Finn made a mental note to think louder so that Nisha could pick up on this conversation. It was both a handy and disturbing ability. But she already knew his most dangerous secret; everything else would just be levels of embarrassment to deal with. “How?”
“I hope you can tell me. I’m flying blind here. I don’t know how they are tracking us when you can’t,” Rhodes responded.
“I wish I could tell you,” Finn told him.
“You have a leak,” Rhodes replied gruffly.
Finn bristled at the statement. “I don’t think so. There is something far more sinister happening here.” Finn retorted. “We have a bunch of variables in the mix. It could be anything.”
Rhodes was silent for a moment. “Any word from Blue?”
“No.”
“Damn.” Rhodes sighed heavily on the other end of the line.
“I need to know where you are. Did you see the news? It’s rough.” Finn glanced around the food court, making sure no one could overhear him. “I’m bringing reinforcements.”
“Lexi is on a mission for brownies and John Denver songs,” Rhodes told him cryptically. “Until I know what is going on, that is all you get.”
Finn frowned. Colorado? How accurate was the umbrella? Feet or miles? “Fine. Let’s keep details to a minimum until we figure out how they are tracking you. Report every hour on fifteen.” Ben wandered back over with a large bag of food and a milkshake. His face held a questioning look.
“Sounds good.”
“Take care of my girls, Rhodes,” Finn told him as Rhodes disconnected the call. A moment later, Nisha stood and carried the debris from her table to the trash. She wandered back over after a moment and sat down casually at the table next to them. She pushed the seat across from her out with her foot and pulled her cell phone up to her ear and began speaking. “I’ve been thinking about how they are finding your people. You are the common denominator.”
“Excuse me?” He struggled to keep his voice low and act like he was speaking to Ben.
“Your team calls you, and they are targeted immediately. You were at Greenlee’s house before that. They break in and your niece walks in on them. Rhodes calls you about her. They are at his house in minutes.” Nisha started gathering the trash from her table. “Trix figures out they are on a plane. Goon squad shows up at the airports. There is no way that is a coincidence.”
“You think I’m feeding them information?”
“That’s not what I said,” Nisha insisted. “I said you are a common denominator. But more specifically, your cell phone is. Tio Viking says it has enough magic in it that it glows like Clark Griswold’s house at Christmas.”
“My phone has a magical bug? How do you know all this?” Finn asked, laying it on the table in front of him and covering it with both his hands.
“I know everything, Mr. Torrin. Magic bug is the best guess. When was the last time you were away from your phone?”
“Left it in the cup holder with that FBI agent that rooted through my GPS history while I was pumping gas.”
“That guy did seem sketch,” Nisha nodded. “We should get going. And give Rhodes a new number to call.”
“I want to talk to Devon; we need to get phones anyway,” Greenlee offered out of nowhere.
Nisha shushed him in irritation. “You are impossible.”
“Where are we going?” Ben finally asked.
“The Rocky Mountains?” Finn looked over at Nisha with a question. She didn’t look at him, but she did nod.
“And the goon squad probably already knows we are on our way.”
39
Zella
Zella sat silently in the corner of a conference room next to a lovely young woman named Kendra. So far, her gamble to drive them to the building in her recent vision was paying off. A red leather notebook that had been at the bottom of her bag for years sat in her lap. She sketched the outline of a mountain on one of the few remaining empty pages. Nisha took off with her newest journal, the brown one, in the rush to experiment with the magic umbrella and track down Sam and Ivan. That wasn’t an issue other than the need to procure something else to draw in. She knew each of her visions by heart. No one else could decipher anything she had written in the past ten years, anyway. Sam might be able to. But she never let him see her journals. The old notebook would serve the purpose fine.
Her latest vision was fuzzy. It hovered in a blurry mess just at the back of her mind, which was unusual. Typically, her visions were crisp, clear, and full of color. Colorful shadowy figures moved disjointedly across the bottom of this vision, never congealing into an image with details. The number of figures shifted back and forth. Occasional flashes of light and blue sparkles popped in and out at intervals. The only thing she was certain of was the line of mountains in the background. The last time this happened was the day before Larson blew the hell out of Mitch’s office. It gave her an uneasy feeling in her gut. She huffed with frustration and turned her attention to the other occupants in the room. At least they were entertaining.
“Chin up, buttercup.” The woman named Harper patted Mitch under his chin. Mitch looked flustered and mildly amused. He sat behind a table with an elderly dog sleeping in his lap while the woman tried without success to comb his hair into submission. She insisted Mitch trade in his normal sweater and jacket for a simple black tee shirt on the premise that if he wanted to be intimidating, he had to look the part. He exercised regularly with Ivan. Even at his age, Zella had to admit Harper was on to something.
According to Harper, nobody was afraid of a big, shaggy, cardigan-wearing grandpa. Zella would remember the look on Mitch’s face when she delivered that zinger for the rest of her life. The fearless soul then proceeded to practice his scowl with him for twenty minutes while Hale set up a camera and lights.
