Chapter nine
THEY WERE out of bacon.
The world was ending.
“You don’t understand,” Art lamented, throwing herself on the couch.
“What will we do? Are we going to starve?”
“There’s plenty of other food,” Alex reminded her.
Nate didn’t say anything. He hadn’t said much at all since the flowers the day before.
“I know that, Alex,” Art said.
“But nothing is as good as bacon. Why can’t you understand that? It’s like you’re being difficult on purpose.”
“I’m not difficult.”
“A little.”
“Art.”
“Alex.”
“If you’re hungry, there are plenty of other things to have.”
“But I don’t want other things. I want bacon.”
Nate said.
“I can go to town. Pick up some supplies.”
They turned to look at him slowly. It was probably the first time he’d spoken today, and it was already approaching noon.
“She doesn’t need anything,” Alex said quietly.
“Says you.” Art pushed herself up off the couch.
“If Nate needs to run away—I mean, if he’s volunteering, then we should let him.”
He wasn’t running away. Flowers bloomed all the time. That was a fact. It was how they worked.
“Yes,” he said.
“I’m volunteering.”
Alex stared at him suspiciously. “Are you—”
“You need things too,” Nate reminded him.
“You have to shave daily, because of the whole grr mountain-man thing you have going on.”
“I don’t have anything going on—”
“You shaved this morning, and you already have a five-o’clock shadow,” Nate said.
“You’re going to dull my razors.”
Alex scowled. But that was okay, Nate was used to that. He could deal with that.
“Besides, it’ll give me a chance to get some air. I didn’t expect to have roommates, after all.”
“Right,” Art said.
“Didn’t expect that. We’re probably getting on your nerves.”
“Exactly,” Nate agreed. Then.
“Wait. No. Not like that.”
“She doesn’t need bacon,” Alex said.
“Get as much as you can,” Art said cheerfully.
“I don’t have any money, but I’m sure I can pay you back somehow.”
Nate didn’t want to know what that meant.
Alex got up from the kitchen table, chair scraping against the floor.
He still carried the gun.
He disappeared down the hall.
Nate wondered if he’d done something wrong. He looked at Art, who just shrugged.
Alex came back a moment later, still scowling of course. He thrust his hand out toward Nate.
In it were two twenty-dollar bills.
Nate stared at them.
“Just take it,” Alex said, huffing out a breath.
Art coughed.
“It would be nice if you would take it,” Alex said.
“Annnnnd?”
He shot a glare at Art.
“And if you could get us a couple of things. A razor would be helpful.”
“Do you want shampoo?” Nate blurted.
“Because I know you use the pink shampoo.”
Alex took a step back. “What?”
“The shampoo. In the bathroom. It’s pink.”
“Very girly,” Art agreed.
“Fine,” Alex said through gritted teeth.
“Shampoo. Bacon. A razor.”
“And grapes,” Art said.
“I would like some grapes. I’ve never had them before, and I read in a book a long time ago that the green kind are better than the red kind.”
“You’ve never had grapes,” Nate said faintly.
She shook her head.
“I’ve always wanted to try them.”
If he took the money and fled the house, well.
That was nobody’s business but his own.
THERE WAS a small grocery in Roseland. Nothing spectacular. But they had razors and bacon and shampoo and grapes.
He stood in front of the grapes for the longest time.
“Hard decision?”
Nate blinked.
A man stood next to him, looking familiar. He carried a plastic basket on his arm. It was empty. “Pardon?”
The man nodded his head toward the fruit.
“You’ve been staring for a couple of minutes.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry. Just… a lot on my mind.”
The man smiled.
“Oh, I get that. Those pipes holding up okay?”
Nate blinked.
“The pipes…? Oh. I’m sorry, I’m completely spacing on your name. It’s been… a long week.”
The man laughed.
“No problem.” He held out his hand. Nate took it, pumping up and down a couple of times.
“Randy. Douglas County Public Works.”
“Right,” Nate said.
“Sorry. Nate. Nate Cartwright.”
“I remember,” Randy said.
“How’s that dog of yours?”
“Dog?”
“The one you have at the cabin.”
“I don’t—” He coughed.
“Right. The dog. He’s, uh. He’s fine. Just fine.”
“What’d you say his name was again?”
“Fido.”
“That’s right. Fido. Funny name for a dog.”
“Is it? I thought it was normal.”
Randy shrugged.
“Never heard of a dog actually named Fido before.”
“I guess.”
“Just as long as—”
“Nate! You’re down here quicker than I expected.”
He turned. Big Eddie Green was walking toward him, an easy grin on his face. He clapped his hand on Nate’s shoulder, squeezing gently.
“Yeah,” Nate said.
“I, uh, needed. A few things.”
“Everything good up at the cabin?”
Well, no. There was a man with a gun and a girl who might have caused flowers to bloom. But that wasn’t something he could say out loud, because that was crazy, right? He hadn’t even allowed himself to think about it, much less say it aloud. Oh sure, he’d come to terms with the gun thing. That was just Alex. That was fine. He didn’t care about that anymore. It hadn’t been pointed at him in days, after all.
The flower thing, though.
That was just something else, wasn’t it?
So he said.
“Fine. Fine. Everything is fine.”
“Good,” Big Eddie said. He glanced over at Randy.
“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt. Howdy. I’m Eddie Green, but everyone calls me Big Eddie.”
“Randy,” he said, though he looked slightly angry.
They shook hands.
“You a friend of Nate’s?” Big Eddie asked.
“No,” Nate said.
“He’s the water guy.”
“The water guy,” Big Eddie repeated.
“That so? Don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. You work for the county? Thought I knew everyone in public works. I know Jimmy’s been complaining about needing someone else helping out around here. County’s pretty big for just one person. They able to fit you into the budget, I guess?”
“Sure,” Randy said, though his mouth was in a thin line.
“Haven’t been here long.”
“How’s Jimmy doing? Come to think of it, I haven’t seen that old coot in a couple of weeks.”
“He’s on vacation,” Randy said.
“Out of town.”
Big Eddie frowned.
“Really? Normally he asks me to water his plants when he leaves. I didn’t hear from him.”
“He probably already has someone doing it for him.”
“Probably,” Big Eddie said.
“I’ll stop by, just to make sure. He gave me a key years ago. Better to be safe than sorry.”
“You do that,” Randy said coolly.
“I’m sure he’ll be grateful.”
Big Eddie nodded slowly.
“I’m sure he will. Nate, all right?”
Nate was sure Big Eddie was asking more than just all right, but he couldn’t quite get where he was going with it. He couldn’t know about the two waiting for him up at the cabin, right? Unless they’d come through Roseland. Alex had said a couple of days before that they’d ditched the car they’d been in but wouldn’t say where. Or how. If it’d been found, couldn’t it be traced back to Alex somehow?
“Yeah,” Nate said.
“All right.” It wasn’t true. Not exactly. But he didn’t know what else to say. Not to Big Eddie. And not in front of Randy, who he didn’t know from Adam. He was the water guy. That was it. He smiled weakly at Randy.
“Sorry about that. What were you saying?”
“You were talking about your dog,” Randy said.
“Dog?” Big Eddie asked.
“I didn’t see—”
Nate bumped him with his plastic basket filled with four packs of bacon, a razor, and the manliest shampoo he could find. He didn’t know how he’d gotten to this point.
Big Eddie seemed to understand.
“Yeah. The dog. Big fella, right?”
“Yep,” Nate said, shrugging awkwardly.
“You know how he is.”
“Very true,” Big Eddie said. He shook his head.
“Well, enough talking for me. Wife’s at the gas station, but she’s got things to do. If I’m going to check on Jimmy, I should get to it before the missus sends a search party after me. Nate, you keep in touch, y’hear? Let me know if you need anything. Anything at all.”
Nate nodded.
“Randy, it’s sure nice to meet you. I hope you love this place as much as we do. There’s just something about Roseland you can’t find anywhere else.”
“Oh, I’m sure there is,” Randy said. He didn’t sound too impressed.
Big Eddie squeezed Nate’s shoulder again before walking away.
“Nice guy,” Randy said once Big Eddie was out of earshot.
“The best, really,” Nate said, and it was awkward now, and he didn’t know why. His first thought had been that Randy was trying to hit on him maybe, however absurd that sounded. If so, he was flattered but not interested in the slightest. He had bigger things to worry about at the moment.
“Well, it was nice seeing you again—”
“I get it,” Randy said, taking a step closer.
“It’s gotta be rough, being all the way up there all by yourself.”
That… he didn’t know what to do with that.
“It’s all right. I’m doing okay.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.” Nate cocked his head. “Why?”
“Just thinking out loud, is all. That far out. Cell phones don’t work. Cut off from pretty much everyone, ya know?”
“I… guess so?”
“You see anyone else up there?”
“No.”
“You sure about that?”
“Why?”
Randy grinned. It didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Just shooting the shit. Be careful up there, Mr. Cartwright. There are probably things in those woods you wouldn’t expect.”
He pushed by Nate, leaving him standing in the middle of the store.
HE WAS halfway back when he remembered his phone.
He fished it out of his pocket and powered it on. He’d turned it off since it’d been essentially useless up on the mountain. He’d meant to call Ruth back on the drive down, but he’d been distracted. It was stupid of him. It should have been his first priority.
The Nokia lit up.
And a moment later, the voicemail icon appeared on the screen.
He called it first.
“You have… six… new messages.”
He frowned.
The first message was from three days before.
“Nate, it’s Ruth. I need you to call me back when you get this. It’s… Just call me back. I’ve got information for you.”
The second message was from two days before. Ruth again.
“Nate. Your phone is going straight to voicemail. You know I hate it when you turn your phone off. You better call me back. Now.”
The third message was a couple hours later.
“Nate, I swear to god, if you don’t call me back, your ass is grass. What the hell have you got yourself mixed up in? I found some things, okay? Old sources who told me things they shouldn’t have and—call me. You need to hear this.”
The fourth message was from yesterday morning.
“Nate. You—Jesus Christ. Boy, if you make me get on a plane, I am going to kick your fucking dick, do you hear me? And I’ll make you pay me back for a first-class ticket because there is no way my ass is sitting in coach.”
The fifth message came yesterday afternoon.
“I think they know I’ve been asking questions. Nate, this isn’t normal. I need to hear from you. Please. Hurry.”
The final message was from earlier that morning. It would have come as Nate was arguing with Alex over going to the grocery store. Ruth spoke in a furious whisper.
“Nate. I don’t know what’s happened. There are men here. Government. They think they’re slick in their expensive suits and ridiculous sunglasses. They’re asking questions. I don’t think they know it’s me. I don’t—shit.”
End of messages.
Nate pulled the phone slowly from his ear.
His head was pounding.
His skin was slick with sweat.
He breathed in and out.
He highlighted Ruth’s name. Pressed Send.
It rang once. Twice. Three times. Four and five and—
“You’ve reached Ruth Davis with the Post. If you have this number, you know who I am. If it’s important, leave a message. I’ll decide if it’s truly important enough to call you back.”
He didn’t leave a message.
He called again. One ring. Two. Three—
“Davis.”
“Ruth.”
“Nate, why the hell—hold on a minute. Don’t you go anywhere, you hear me?”
“Yeah, I—”
He was put on hold. Muzak crackled through the phone. It felt like it stretched on for hours and hours. Then, just before he thought he’d go out of his mind, a beep sounded above the Muzak. It was a number he didn’t recognize. He clicked over. “Hello?”
“It’s me.”
“Ruth? Why are you calling me from a different number?”
“Went to an empty office. Different phone line. Couldn’t take any chances. Don’t think they know about this one.”
“What are you talking about?”
She grunted.
“Boy, you are in a world of hurt. Do you know what the hell you’ve stepped in?”
“I don’t—what’s going on? What happened? Who were the men that—”
“NSA,” she snapped.
“Or so they claimed. Bullshit, if you ask me. I’ve been around here long enough to know a smokescreen when I see one. You called me here, talking about some random man in your house, a Marine with a little girl. And then I start looking around, putting out some feelers on an Alex Delgado, and here they are.”
“Do they know it was you?”
She snorted.
“Boy, I cover my ass better than that. They were looking for a man named Hank Williams.”
Nate couldn’t stop the grin on his face.
“Mom always liked him.”
“I bet she did. They wanted to see computers and such. They came to my desk, and I pointed toward my typewriter. They weren’t happy.”
“So much for freedom of the press.”
“Oh, you and I both know that’s an illusion if you go far enough. And I went far. Nate, there is no Alex Delgado.”
He closed his eyes.
“Yeah. I figured as much.”
“His name is Alex Weir. And he went AWOL two weeks ago from a base in Northern California. The Marine Corps Mountain Warfare Training Center.”
Nate frowned as he opened his eyes.
“Why does that sound familiar?”
“You listen to the news?”
“No. Not since I’ve been at the cabin.”
“A helicopter went down there a couple weeks back. Right around the time your Alex Weir disappeared.”
“That’s—I heard that on the radio. Right before I pulled into Roseland. They said it was a training exercise.”
“That’s what they said. Just like they said the whole base is nothing but what’s in the name. A training center.”
“Ruth,” Nate said slowly.
“What are you trying to tell me?”
She sighed.
“I couldn’t get deep, Nate. I tried. Lord knows I did. But the more I dug, the more doors closed. I have—had—some people I trusted. Old friends. But even they couldn’t get very far. I haven’t heard back from them, even though I’ve called repeatedly.”
“What did you find out?”
“It’s not a training center. Something big happens there, Nate. Something that no one outside is supposed to know about. Alex Weir was career. By all rights, he was exceptional. Some high-profile missions. Decorated. Until he disappeared completely ten years ago. And we’re not talking like he went AWOL back then. No. He was just gone. Everything just stopped for him. He wasn’t a person anymore. It wasn’t until two weeks ago that he resurfaced. And that’s when he was listed AWOL, but not by the usual channels. This is all completely in the dark. And they’re looking for him.”
“I don’t understand,” Nate said hoarsely.
“That little girl. Nate, is she…?”
“Is she what?”
“I couldn’t get much. They called it the Mountain. That’s what the place is called. The training center is just a cover.”
“But it’s—”
The first day.
Alex, with his gun.
You came from the Mountain?
Nate had thought he was—off. He’d come up the mountain, yes. But… that wasn’t what Alex meant, was it?
Mountain. Capitalized.
And then after.
Art.
Artemis Darth Vader.
This doesn’t taste like the vegetable paste on the Mountain.
He hadn’t asked what that’d meant. He hadn’t asked.
“What about her?” Nate asked roughly.
“What about the girl?”
“There wasn’t any mention of a girl,” Ruth said.
“It was always called the Seventh Sea. S-E-A, like the ocean. Whatever it is, it’s the Seventh Sea. And they’re looking, Nate, okay? They’re looking. Whatever it is, they want it back.”
“I don’t understand.”
She laughed wildly.
“You and me both, kiddo. Look at you. You get fired for getting your fucking dick wet, and here you are, smack dab in the middle of a story that people are probably getting killed over. Don’t you see? Nate, they’re coming. You need to get your ass in gear and run.”
There was a storm in his head. Everything felt surreal.
“I have to go.”
“Goddamn you, Nate. You need to stay safe. Get as far away from that Marine and the girl as possible. I don’t know what’s happening, but you can’t get mixed up in it—”
“More than I already am?”
“Nate. Please. I’m asking you to do this. For me. Please. Just… drive. As fast as you can. Head east. Hole up somewhere until this blows over. Use cash. No cards. This doesn’t have to involve you. This doesn’t have anything to do with you. Leave, Nate. Do it now.”
He remembered the way Alex had braided Art’s hair, gentle and soft, snapping near her ear for the scrunchie.
How big the sunglasses were on her face.
How Alex had been embarrassed to ask for a razor.
He’s my protector.
You have to believe me when I say I would rather die than see anything happen to her. I’m doing everything I can to help her. Everything.
The way they’d both looked back at him after playing a game of Old Maid, asking if he was going to come outside with them, because nothing smelled as good as the air after it rained.
The way the flowers had bloomed.
God, the field looked like it’d been so fucking alive.
“I can’t,” he whispered.
“Oh. Nate. No. No. Please. Please don’t do this.”
“I have to tell them. I have to—”
“You don’t. You don’t owe them a damn thing!”
Ruth couldn’t understand. She hadn’t seen the way Alex had showed Art how to skip rocks. She hadn’t had a cup of coffee waiting for her made just right by a man who didn’t know how to smile.
“I think I do.”
“If anything happens to you, I’m going to murder you, do you get me?”
He laughed. It cracked right down the middle.
“Yeah. God, yeah. I understand. You be safe, okay? Don’t let the Man get you.”
“Kiddo, I’ve been around these types longer than you’ve been alive. They don’t know who they’re fucking with. You call me if you can, you understand? Don’t you be someone who disappears. Okay?”
“Yeah, Ruth. Thank you. I—thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get the fuck out of here.”
But he could hear her smile.
The phone beeped in his ear.
He tossed it on the bench seat.
He headed toward the cabin, pushing the truck as fast as it could go.
HE WAS almost to the turnoff when his phone rang again.
He thought about ignoring it.
He glanced down.
EDDIE across the display.
He picked it up.
The line crackled.
“Hello?”
“—ate, you—hear me?”
“Big Eddie? Yeah, I’m here. We’ve got a bad connection. I’m almost up—”
“—immy. He’s—need the guy. They—who he is.”
“What? Eddie, you’re breaking up. I can’t hear—”
A clear burst.
“Jimmy. Nate, Jimmy is dead.”
“Who the fuck is—the water guy?”
“Yes. He’s been shot. It’s been days. I called—and they don’t—”
“I can’t hear you! What did you say?”
“Randy. There is no one named Randy employed by public works.”
Nate’s stomach twisted.
“How do you know?” he asked dully.
“I called. Spoke with the big boss. Nate, who is he? Where did he come from? Did he give you a last name? They’re going to want to know. The police. It’s—”
“No,” Nate said, his own voice sounding far away.
“No. He never… said… Eddie, I’ve got to go. I’ve got to—”
“Nate, don’t do this, okay? Just—stay—we’ll find him—don’t move—”
Nate threw down the phone and gunned the engine.
A minute later, he saw the sign for Herschel Lake.
HE WENT as quickly as he could up the mountain, dust kicking up in great clouds behind him. The old truck rattled and groaned as the tires bounced in potholes. He hit his head on the ceiling of the cab. His phone was knocked off the seat. The groceries rattled on the passenger-side floor.
He gritted his teeth together, pressing harder on the gas pedal. The needle crept toward forty.
He exhaled sharply when his cabin finally came into view. He started honking the horn frantically, the sound low and weak.
Alex must have heard, because the front door opened and he stepped out onto the porch, gun drawn. Art peered out from behind him, eyes wide.
Nate slammed on the brakes, the end of the truck fishtailing slightly as he came to a stop. He threw it into park before shoving the door open.
“What’s wrong?” Alex asked, voice flat.
“Seventh Sea,” Nate said, gasping for air.
“It’s about Seventh Sea.”
Alex’s expression hardened almost immediately. The gun was pointed in Nate’s direction yet again.
“Whoa!” Nate cried, raising his hands and taking a step back.
“Goddammit, Alex, I’m not—”
“How do you know that name?” Alex asked, voice cold.
“I have a contact, okay? Back in Washington. The first day I left here. When you asked if I’d made any phone calls. I lied, okay? I called my contact. Asked questions. Asked her to look up Alex Delgado.”
“Uh-oh,” Art breathed.
The gun didn’t waver.
Nate took a step toward the porch, hands still raised.
“I’m not here to hurt you. I swear. I would never do that. To you. To her. You both are my—”
“Don’t,” Alex snapped.
“Don’t you fucking say a goddamn word.”
“You’re my friends,” Nate said, ignoring the warning.
“The water guy.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed.
“The guy that came up here? What about him.”
“I don’t think he’s who he says he is. He was in town, and there was—it doesn’t matter. A man is dead, and I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Who did you call?” Alex demanded.
“What the hell did you do?”
“I asked questions. I’m sorry. I didn’t—I had to. It’s not—”
“Alex,” Art said, pulling on his pant leg.
“I told you,” Alex growled.
“I told you that you couldn’t ask questions. That you had to take it for what it was. That you could get hurt. That you could get her hurt.”
“I know,” Nate said weakly, taking another step.
“I wasn’t—I didn’t think. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. I didn’t know.”
“Alex,” Art said again.
“I’m doing what I’m doing for a reason,” Alex said.
“Why did you think I was—”
“Alex.”
“What, Art? I’m trying to—”
“We need to go.”
The barrel of the gun shook.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
“We have to hurry.”
“Get to your room. Pack what you can. Now.”
She glanced at Nate before disappearing into the cabin.
Alex glared at Nate once more before following her inside.
Nate froze for a moment. His heart was thundering in his chest. His throat felt tight. He could barely take a breath.
He was up the steps into the cabin before he even realized he was moving.
Alex was in the kitchen, taking cans of food from the pantry, lining them up on the counter. He ignored Nate, leaning down and grabbing the block of water bottles.
Art was in the bedroom, her duffel bag and Alex’s opened on the bed. She was shoving clothes inside in big handfuls.
Nate went to his own bedroom. He didn’t know what to do. Should he be packing too? Should he be trying to talk to Alex? Should he just crawl into bed and pull the comforter up over his head until all the noise around him fell away and he could pretend these past days hadn’t happened?
Instead, he grabbed his own bag and began to pack.
There was no order to it. He grabbed everything. Jeans and underwear and boots. His toothbrush. His hands were shaking, and the band wrapping around his chest made it harder to breathe. His movements were jerky, almost mechanical. He could only hear Ruth’s warning in his head, telling him to run, that he needed to run.
He heard Art grunting out in the hall. He zipped up his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and went out the bedroom door.
She was trying to drag both bags. Nate knocked her hand away on one of them and lifted it for her. Her smile was a little wobbly, but she was able to pull the remaining bag much more easily.
The kitchen was empty.
The front door was still wide open.
For a brief moment, Nate wondered if Alex had left them both behind.
He came back in through the door, a dark look on his face. The gun had been tucked away again. He saw Art.
“You get everything?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“I think so.”
“It’ll have to do. Keys.”
Nate blinked, unsure of what was happening.
“Nate,” Alex snapped, holding out his hand.
“Give me the goddamn keys.”
Nate reached into his pocket. The keys pressed painfully into his skin, but he managed to pull them out. Alex snatched them out of his hand before he grabbed his duffel from Nate. He bent over to pick up Art’s too.
“We need to go,” he told her.
“You stay behind me. Hold on to the back of my shirt. You don’t let go. This is just like on the Mountain, okay? We move quick. We move quiet. And we don’t look back.”
“Okay,” she said in a small voice.
“Good. Let’s go.”
“Come on, Nate,” she said, glancing back at him.
And Alex stopped. “What?”
“Nate’s coming too.”
“No,” Alex said.
“He’s not. This is—”
“We’re not leaving him,” Art insisted.
“We need him, Alex. He’s part of this.”
“You can’t know that—”
“Do you trust me?”
“That’s not fair,” he snapped at her, and for the first time since Nate had known him, there was a heartbreaking look of fear on his face. Of desperation. It was naked and fierce, and Nate almost couldn’t take it.
“You know I trust you more than anything in this world.”
“And you made me a promise.”
“I know.”
“Then you need to trust me now,” she said.
“We need him. You need him.”
Nate thought Alex was going to argue. He looked up at Nate, scowl ever-present, but he was panicking. Nate hadn’t thought it was possible for Alex to be anything but stoic, but here he was, eyes wide, searching Nate’s face for something. It was a dissonance Nate hadn’t prepared himself for. He’d seen Alex threaten. He’d seen him braid hair like it was the easiest thing in the world.
He wasn’t supposed to be scared.
Neither of them were.
“Fine,” Alex said, shaking his head.
“Nate, you will do what I say when I say it. If I think there is even a second that you’re not, I will shoot you in the head and leave your body where it lands. Do you get me?”
“Yeah.” Nate could barely breathe.
“He won’t shoot you.” Art patted Nate on the hand.
“He likes you too much for—”
“Art,” Alex barked.
She rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, yeah. Not the time. I got it. It’s never the time.”
“Art, behind me. Nate, behind her. We move quick. We don’t stop. We’re in the truck. I’m driving.”
“He’s really good at driving,” Art said, looking up at Nate.
“Especially when people are shooting at us.”
“That’s not as comforting as you think it is,” Nate said faintly.
“I know. But it needed to be said.”
Alex was at the door, slowly scanning the tree line. His stance was stiff, a duffel bag over each shoulder. Art went behind him and grabbed the tail of his flannel shirt. She looked back at Nate.
“Stay close,” she said.
“It’ll happen fast.”
“What will happen fa—”
“Now,” Alex said.
“Move. Now.”
Nate did the only thing he could.
He followed.
They were on the porch, the wood creaking beneath them. Alex stopped at the top step for a moment, looking around again. And then he was moving down the steps and onto the gravel, rocks crunching under his feet. Art was his shadow, holding tightly to his shirt. Nate felt like he was moving underwater.
Alex tossed the duffels into the back of the truck. He motioned for Nate to do the same. There were white garbage bags already sitting on the bed. It looked as if they were filled with the cans Alex had been taking from the pantry. The water was there too. Some blankets. Nate dropped his duffel next to theirs. He turned in time to see Alex lifting Art into the truck. He turned to round the back to the passenger side when—
He stopped.
A little farther down the dirt road stood a man.
“Uh,” Nate said. “Alex?”
“What?”
“I think the water guy is here again.”
“What the hell are you—”
Nate was shoved back behind Alex, the gun already drawn and pointing at Randy.
Art whimpered inside the truck.
“Staff Sergeant Weir,” Randy said merrily.
“What a pleasure it is to finally meet you.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Alex asked, voice low and dangerous. He had one hand behind him, holding on to Nate’s arm, keeping him in place. It took Nate a second to realize Alex was protecting him. He peered over Alex’s shoulder to see that Randy hadn’t moved. He was about twenty yards away. He looked unarmed.
“Who I am doesn’t matter,” Randy said.
“You have something that doesn’t belong to you. I’d like you to return it now. This little test has gone on long enough, I think.”
“What test?”
Randy smiled.
“You really think we didn’t know where you were? We could have come in at any time, Weir. In fact, that was the plan to begin with. But the powers that be decided that a field test was in order. To see how the Seventh Sea would react to… outside stimulus. There were those of us that disagreed, but. You know how it goes. Rank and file. Rank and file. We do what we’re told.” His smiled widened.
“Well, most of us do, anyway. You certainly caused a bit of a hullabaloo, didn’t you? They weren’t expecting that. Though I must commend you, as it definitely pointed out the faults in our security system. I’m sure those in charge will take that into consideration when deciding your fate. You helped us, after all.”
“You can’t have her.”
Randy laughed.
“Her? Her? Weir, there never has been a her. You know that as well as I do. And you don’t get to decide what happens to it. It doesn’t belong to you, no matter what your misplaced paternal instinct is telling you. It’s tragic, don’t you think?”
Alex stiffened.
Randy picked up on it almost immediately.
“Oh, yes. I know all about you, Alex Weir. Your history. Where you came from. Your file is rather… detailed. Did you ever wonder why they picked you? Out of everyone? You were a grunt. A machine. Brute force without a brain. You were a weapon, and you went where you were pointed. But you never stopped to ask why. Why they chose you. Why they gave you the access to it they did.”
“Don’t,” Alex said in a thunderous voice.
Randy’s eyes narrowed.
“They picked you because you were broken. They picked you because they wanted to see if it would latch on to you. Like a host. Symbiotic. They wanted to see what it was capable of in the face of human grief. I think even they were surprised just how far it went. You thought you were a glorified babysitter. You didn’t know that you were part of the test.”
“I don’t care. You can’t have her. She doesn’t belong to you.”
“And you think it belongs to you?” Randy asked, sounding incredulous.
“Alex. Alex. It’s not real. None of what you’re feeling is real. It is using you. It has manipulated you. That is not a little girl. That is a monster. It doesn’t give two shits about you. It never has. In your sorrow, you just couldn’t tell the difference. And for that, I am sorry.”
“Who do you work for?” Alex asked.
Randy shrugged.
“Does it matter? Probably not a division you’ve ever heard of. Let’s just say I’m the one they call when something has been taken and needs to be returned.”
“You’re an Enforcer.”
Randy arched an eyebrow.
“Okay, so you have heard of us before. Interesting. And here I was thinking you were just a sorry grunt with dumb luck. I won’t make that mistake again. I would have taken it from you sooner, but—well. The last few days have been enlightening, and I had my orders.” He glanced over Alex’s shoulder.
“Mr. Cartwright. The Mafia. Really. That’s what you thought. That’s where your imagination took you.”
“How did you—”
“You wired us when you came here,” Alex growled.
“I did. Just not near the water meter. Nice of you to check, though, after I left. Can’t be too careful, I’m sure. Not in this day and age when paranoia can keep you alive. But the time for all of this has come to an end, I’m afraid. I didn’t expect that local to get involved. Small towns, right, Mr. Cartwright?”
“Big Eddie,” Nate breathed.
“You leave him alone. He’s got a family—”
Randy waved a hand in dismissal.
“I don’t care about him. We’ll all be long gone by the time he even thinks of you again. Mr. Cartwright, it’s time for you to listen to me. You stand behind a man wanted by the United States of America for treason. He has defected and, in the process, has taken something that did not belong to him. If you don’t surrender immediately, you’ll be considered an accomplice. You will not like what happens then. However, if you yield, I will see to it myself that you are treated fairly. You have thirty seconds to decide. Starting now.”
Nate didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what they were talking about. This had nothing to do with him. He’d come here to grieve for a life lost. For the mistakes he’d made. To lick his wounds and figure out what to do next. He didn’t ask for this. He didn’t ask for any of this.
“If you do this,” Alex said quietly, still staring straight ahead.
“If you… I won’t blame you. But you can’t stop me. They can’t have her. Not again. I need to get her home. Please, Nate.”
“Tick tock, Mr. Cartwright,” Randy called.
“Twenty seconds.”
Nate pressed his forehead against Alex’s back.
“Will they hurt her?”
“Yes.”
“And they’ll kill us anyway.”
“Maybe. Either we die here, or we never see daylight again.”
“He’s not alone, is he.”
Alex snorted.
“You’re smarter than you look.”
“Asshole. Can you get us out of here?”
“I don’t know. But I’m going to do everything I can.”
“Five seconds, Mr. Cartwright.”
He glanced into the truck. Art was watching him, head resting on her hands against the bench seat. He didn’t know what was happening. He didn’t know who she was or what she was supposed to be. But he couldn’t stand the way the man down the road had said she wasn’t a person. That she was an it.
So he said the only thing he could.
“I’m with you. Both of you.”
She smiled.
“Mr. Cartwright. You’re out of time. Do you have an answer?”
“Yeah,” Nate said, raising his voice.
“In fact I do. Here it is. Fuck off.”
The smile faded on Randy’s face.
“That’s not a good decision, Mr. Cartwright.”
“Real heartbroken over it. I don’t know how I’ll go on.”
“That’s enough,” Alex hissed at him even as Art giggled, covering her mouth.
“Remember,” Randy said, voice cold.
“that I gave you a chance.”
He spun on his heel, dust kicking up around him, and began walking into the trees.
“Where the hell is he going?” Nate asked.
“Get in the truck,” Alex said.
“Now. We have to—”
In the distance came a faint thumpthumpthump.
“Shit,” Alex breathed.
“Now. We have to move now.”
“Not again,” Art muttered.
“Didn’t they learn after what happened last time?”
“What is that?” Nate asked as Alex turned and shoved him toward the truck.
“What’s that noise? It sounds like—” He grunted as he went sprawling inside the cab of the truck. He felt Alex shoving his flailing legs farther. Art scrambled up and over his back as Nate pulled himself in. He sat upright against the passenger door, turning to glare at Alex.
“I can get in myself, thank you very—”
The thumpthumpthump grew louder. He turned slowly and looked out the back window. Art was on her knees, chin resting on the back of the bench seat.
In the distance, above the trees, were two black smudges against the bright blue sky.
“Are those…”
“Helicopters,” Art said ominously as Alex climbed into the truck and slammed the door behind him.
“Black Hawks.”
“Oh,” Nate managed to say.
“That’s… not good.”
“Nope. They’re really big. And fast.”
“You’re not making me feel any better.”
“Hold on to something,” Alex growled.
The truck roared to life and lurched almost immediately as Alex threw it into reverse. Gravel kicked up around the truck as the wheels spun briefly before catching solid ground. The truck groaned as it shot back. Alex expertly twisted the wheel, the truck spinning around until it faced the dirt road leading down to the highway. He shifted it into drive, and as soon as they’d stopped reversing, they were moving forward.
“Careful,” Nate snapped as Art squawked, falling against him. He turned her around, holding her tightly at his side.
“This thing doesn’t exactly have a roll bar.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Alex said, hands tight on the steering wheel.
“He says that even when he doesn’t mean it,” Art said.
“It’s supposed to make us feel better about our chances of survival. Do you feel better? You don’t look like you feel better. Your face is a little green.”
“This has been a very weird day,” Nate muttered, the trees flying by them out the window.
“There’s going to be a roadblock,” Alex said.
Art looked up at him. “I know.”
“No matter what direction we go.”
“I know, Alex.”
“Which way?”
She hesitated.
“Art.” Alex sounded frustrated.
“I made you study those maps for a reason. We planned for this. I need you to tell me which way.”
“East. I think… I think we’re supposed to go east.”
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
“Fuck,” he groaned.
“I don’t like it when you curse.”
“Now’s not the time, Artemis.”
“He says a lot of bad words when he’s anxious,” Art told Nate.
Nate’s hands were shaking.
“I don’t blame him in the slightest.”
They hit the tree line, the canopy thick above them. Even from inside the cab, he could still hear the thumping sound of blades spinning from somewhere overhead. Alex leaned forward, face almost against the steering wheel, peering upward.
“This cover won’t last long.”
“Do you have a plan?” Nate asked.
Alex glanced at him. “Sort of.”
“Sort of? What the hell is that supposed to—holy shit, look out!”
Ahead of them on the dirt road stood a row of men in full fatigues, rifles pointed in their direction.
Alex didn’t slow. If anything, he pressed the gas pedal down farther.
The cab rattled around them.
“What are you doing!” Nate shouted at him.
“They’ve got guns, Jesus Christ, they’ve got—”
He saw the exact moment the soldiers in front of them realized they weren’t going to stop. Everything slowed down around them as a large man on the end raised his arm in the air and then brought it down in a slashing motion. There were bursts of fire from the tips of the rifles.
They weren’t going to make it.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Art move forward, hand raised toward the windshield, fingers extended.
The air was sucked from the cab.
He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. He saw the licks of fire from the ends of the automatic rifles. The windshield should have shattered. The truck should have been riddled with bullets. They should be dead.
Instead, there were sharp sounds from the front of the truck, and he saw sparks right outside the windshield, as if the bullets were ricocheting off some invisible wall. He cringed at the sounds, sure that what he was seeing wasn’t real, that any moment the windshield would shatter around them, the bullets entering their heads, splattering the back window with bits of skull and brain.
It didn’t happen.
The men in front of them began to shout, lowering their rifles.
Alex pressed the gas pedal down harder.
The soldiers began to move, shoving one another to the side.
The last few managed to jump out of the way right before the truck plowed into them.
Alex kept a tight grip on the steering wheel as they took a soft curve at speeds that could have caused the truck to flip.
Art sighed and sat back down in the seat, lowering her hand.
Nate said.
“What— I don’t— What is— I can’t.”
“You okay?” Alex asked.
“I don’t know,” Nate said, voice high-pitched and frantic.
“I wasn’t talking to you. Art?”
“I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head.
“That won’t be all of them.”
“Oh,” Alex said.
“I’m counting on it.”
Nate stared at both of them.
Art patted his knee.
“So later, after we escape the bad men with the guns and the helicopters, we probably should tell you that I’m pretty much not from around here. And by around here, I mean this planet.” She paused, considering.
“Or even this galaxy, if we’re being specific.”
“Art,” Alex snarled.
She winced.
“Oops. That didn’t come out like I meant it to. My bad. I really need to work on my timing.”
“Space princess,” Nate breathed.
She grinned at him.
“You remembered! How fun.”
He managed to roll down the window before vomiting.
THEY DIDN’T talk much until they neared the highway. The sounds of the helicopters never left, though it seemed as if they were keeping their distance.
“Turning left will take us into town,” Art said, glancing at Nate warily as if she thought he was going to throw up again. She hadn’t seemed too fond of that if the look on her face had meant anything.
“We could probably avoid it and go around.”
“And right?” Alex asked.
“Will take us farther into the mountains. North. But we’ll eventually be able to go east. There’s not much that way.”
“Fewer people.”
She hummed.
“Fewer bystanders.”
“They’re going to be waiting for us.”
“I know.”
“Can you handle it?”
“I’ve been resting. I’ll be okay.”
“The flowers.”
She sighed.
“I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to see Nate smile.”
They both glanced at him.
He was as far away from them as he could be and still be inside the truck. He was plastered against the passenger door, eyes wide. His mouth tasted disgusting, and he was pretty sure there was a drying string of bile on his chin. But that was the least of his worries. Everything else had faded into the background. His sole focus was on the two people in the truck with him.
“You okay?” Art asked him.
He nodded once.
“You don’t look okay.”
That was probably an understatement.
“I think I broke him,” she said with a frown.
“You did that on purpose,” Alex said through gritted teeth.
“I just stopped the car from filling up with bullets. I had to tell him something.”
“Jesus Christ,” Alex muttered.
“Look, we’re—”
The trees fell away beside them.
They were almost to the highway.
“Right?” Alex asked.
“Right,” Art said.
They hit the road at the same speed they’d been traveling. Nate tried to make a sound—anything to remind them that the highway wasn’t that wide and the other side had a metal barrier thing before it dropped into nothing—but the only thing that came out was a thin rush of air. Alex spun the steering wheel hand over hand, and the truck felt like it was leaning to the left. Nate was sure that for a moment, they weren’t on all four tires. Somehow Alex managed to maintain control of the truck and straighten it out, the back end fishtailing slightly before he crossed the yellow line back to the right side of the road.
Nate knew there wasn’t much farther up into the mountains. A few towns, though they had to be an hour or so away. He thought one of them was called Green Creek, really nothing more than a village. He’d been there once when his mother and father had gotten the itch to explore farther into the mountains. The road leading up was winding, with pullouts every few miles for tourists.
And currently, it was empty.
No blockades. At least none that he could see.
As if she could read his mind, Art said.
“Oh they’ll be there. You can count on that, partner. We’re the frontier settlers trying to save our land from the big, bad gang of bandits trying to take it over, I reckon.”
He gaped at her.
She winked at him.
“Not helping,” Alex said.
“I’m trying to keep him calm—”
A loud roar rattled the cab as two Black Hawk helicopters flew overhead, so low that Nate thought they could have scraped the top of the truck. He shouted at the sight of them, head hitting the window as he jerked away. A bright flash of pain shot through his skull, eyes narrowed as he watched the helicopters fly ahead of them.
He thought Alex would slow. Would stop. Would turn the fucking truck around and drive in the opposite direction of the helicopters that rounded the corner ahead.
He didn’t.
If anything, he went faster.
“You’re both fucking insane,” he managed to say.
“It’s a good thing you’re not a doctor, because insanity isn’t a medical diagnosis,” Art said.
“You should stick with what you know.”
They rounded the corner.
Down the road, maybe a quarter of a mile, was the blockade.
The highway wasn’t anything big. One lane in either direction. Most of the time in the winter, the roads were closed to everyone but residents. They were plowed when the county could get to it. Sometimes the towns in the higher elevations were cut off for a couple of weeks at a time before the roads became passable again. But the people were used to it. They knew the risks of living so far into the Cascades.
Both sides of the road were blocked off. Four Humvees—two on each side of the road—faced them, headlights on. More soldiers stood in front of them, rifles raised. The left side gave way to nothing, a drop-off of at least five hundred feet to the forest below. The right was a sharp rock face. There was no way they’d be able to get up and through.
The helicopters had made a wide arc, circling back and hovering a dozen yards above the Humvees. Stunted bushes on the rock whipped back and forth from the force of the spinning rotor blades.
There was no way through.
“We’re going to die,” Nate said.
“We’re definitely going to die.”
“We’re not going to die,” Alex snapped at him.
He didn’t slow.
He sped up.
Nate glanced over in shock to see the odometer climbing above forty.
“Art,” Alex said.
“We only get one shot at this.”
“I know,” she said, voice dreamy and soft. She climbed to her knees, leaning forward, hands flat against the dashboard.
“Hold on.” Alex glanced at Nate, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.
“To what?” Nate demanded.
“What are you—”
The truck began to vibrate.
Nate could feel it down to his bones. It felt like his skin was crawling.
There was a pulse of something that emanated from the little girl sitting next to him. He thought he saw the air ripple in front of the truck, hurtling toward the blockade. They were so close that he could see the whites of the soldiers’ eyes, and he tried to look away, tried to steel himself for the impact and—
The rippling air struck the soldiers in front of the Humvees. They were knocked off their feet, spinning into the air, rifles falling from their hands. It looked as if they were floating when the rippling something struck two of the Humvees behind them. The hoods crumpled in a shriek of metal they could hear from inside the cab of the truck. The windshields cracked, then shattered, chunks of glass spiraling off, glittering in the sunlight.
They were so fucking close and—
The two Humvees shot up into the air, striking the bottoms of the helicopters, causing them to list alarmingly close to each other. The rotor blades began to brush together, sparks shooting out and raining down.
They hit the blockade a split second later.
Nate looked out his window.
It was a storm of steel and fire. The passenger-side mirror snapped off when it struck one of the remaining Humvees. There was the screech of metal against metal. Nate jerked his head away from the door, sure the passenger window would break.
It didn’t.
One moment they were in the middle of the blockade surrounded by fire and men spinning off through the air, and the next they were through.
He turned to look out the back window in time to see the Humvees that had crashed into the helicopters fall back onto the ground and explode with a dull fwump, shrapnel flying, black smoke curling. The helicopters were spinning out of control, looking as if they were about to collide at any moment.
And then the truck rounded another corner and the destruction behind them disappeared.
Nate turned back around slowly.
Art rolled her shoulders slightly as she pushed back from the dashboard.
Alex said something to her, and she responded, but for the life of him, Nate couldn’t make out a single word they said.
His focus was on the two small, perfect handprints embedded into the dashboard.
They drove on.