Authors: Kate Douglas

Dream Unchained (21 page)

BOOK: Dream Unchained

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Mac showed Carl the underground bunker and turned the man loose to interview the Nyrian women who'd taken shelter with Meg, along with the four guys Niah had brought over. Then he got back on the phone with General Adams.

“You're telling me there's no help coming? I've got an idiot out here with a heavily armed, quasi-military force that's growing by the minute, attacking my few rent-a-cops and it's okay for him to shoot my people? What kind of fucking stupidity is that? I've got unarmed women here. Scientists working on an extremely sensitive project, and you're saying we're on our own?”

He listened to the general's half-assed excuses as long as he could. “Yeah, well you can tell your congressmen that while they argue over protocol and whether or not we should welcome these bastards with parades and diplomats, I've got three of my people on board that spaceship, doing their best to rescue the last of the Nyrians before they blow the damned ship to bits. Yes. You heard me. They're on board now. No, General Adams, I am not going to tell you how they got there, but I will tell you that you'd better hope like hell they succeed, or you can bend over and kiss your ass good-bye.”

He really wanted to throw the effing phone against the wall, but managed instead to shut it off and pocket the thing before he stalked across the room to where Carl was talking with Meg Bartlett and Cam's Mir.

“Mir? Where's Cam? I thought he was down here with you.”

She seemed startled by Mac's question. “No. He's in his cabin, painting.”

“Now? What's he working on?” Mir shrugged and focused again on Carl. Mac rubbed a muscle in the back of his neck that felt like a steel spike running straight from his shoulders to his skull. It was all going to shit. Politicians were busy debating parades and protocol while the entire world was at risk. He could feel the whole project falling apart around him, and he really needed to get outside and see what was going on at the fence.

And Zianne. He should be there with her now. He didn't want her to die alone, and damn it all to hell, but he couldn't allow himself to think like that. She wasn't going to die. He wouldn't let her.

“Carl? Do you want to continue with the Nyrian's stories here?” There was too much going on. He really needed to be in three places at once.

“I do, Mac. What they have to say is important. The women have a totally different perspective than the men and I think it's one our viewers need to hear. And I want to find out what it was like on the ship for the four guys who just arrived. A couple of them look pretty rough.” Carl held up his small camera. “I'm getting good visuals and the sound is excellent. We'll be fine.”

“Thanks. Meg? If you have any problems, hit the alert button and it'll buzz my phone. And someone needs to secure the door behind me when I leave.”

Meg nodded and sent Satza to lock the door. Mac raced up the stairs, checked to make certain Satza locked the door securely, and started across the open area to the dream shack.

Cam's voice popped into his head, so clear it was as if the artist was standing beside him.
Mac? If you're available, I think you need to come to my cabin. Now.

On my way.

Now what was going on? He reached the top step at Cameron's and everything suddenly spun out of focus. Grabbing the post supporting the porch overhang, he clung to it for a moment, struggling for balance. What the hell was that all about?

Of course, he'd not slept now for over thirty-six hours. Maybe that had something to do with it. Damn, he was such an idiot not to have gotten some rest when the chance was there, but he sucked it up and knocked on Cam's door.

“It's unlocked. C'mon in.”

He stepped into absolute chaos. Cam was wearing nothing but a pair of ripped-off sweats. Paint-spattered and worn, they hung low on his hips. His arms and chest, even his face and hair, were speckled and smeared with paint, yet it had been just a short time since Mac had last seen him.

“What the hell happened to you?”

Cam turned to him. His eyes stared out of dark hollows, his normally youthful face was gaunt, and he looked as if the demons of all hells haunted him. “I don't know, Mac. You need to look at these.” He swept his arm around the room, and Mac saw at least half a dozen paintings, rough splashes of color that somehow still told a story.

A story as it was occurring now? But how? He walked from canvas to canvas, unable to accept exactly what he appeared to see. “Is this what's happening on board the ship? What Morgan and the others are seeing right now? Where are you getting the images? How the hell have you had time to paint these? They just left, not twenty minutes ago.”

Cam nodded. “I'm not sure, but, yeah, I think this is what's happening now. The images won't leave me alone until I paint them. See this? I think this is the service bay where Duran said they'd be arriving. And here's the guard on duty, and the vault where they keep the soulstones.”

“What the hell's this?”

Cam shook his head and stared at the painting. “I thought at first it was row after row of hanging uniforms, but then I realized Rodie was filming them, that she looked like she wanted to either cry or throw up. I think they're bodies, Mac. They look almost human but not quite, but look at this.” He pointed to a dark slash on one that had more detail than the others.

“Holy hell. It's been gutted.” He focused on some dark lines that appeared to pierce the bodies. “Are those meat hooks? Damn it, Cam. How are you getting these images? From Rodie, or Finn, maybe? Are they telepathically that strong?”

“I don't know, Mac. I don't think it's any of our guys. See? If one of them were sending me the image, they wouldn't be in the view I'm getting. But all of them are in this first one. Someone else has to be giving these images to me.”

His entire body was trembling as he walked over to the painting he was working on. “This is what made me call you. All I'm seeing is darkness and the sparkles of energy you see when they disassemble, but the colors are all wrong. No blues or goldsâjust muddy dark greens, some gray. It's not right. And see this?” He pointed to some shapes on one side of the canvas. “Same shapes as you see in the service bay when they first arrived. Mac, I think they're trapped there. Something has happened and they can't get out. They can't get back to Earth, but they're all there, including the three guys who were powering the ship.”

He gazed at Mac with haunted eyes. “That means the ship is without power. It's already degrading.”

D
ink slid to one side and made room for Bane and Ralph as the last two slipped back under the rocky overhang where all but Jesat and Aza had taken cover. Those two still covered the northern edge, where they'd managed to rout a small attack from that side of the plateau entirely by themselves.

Dink hadn't gotten all the details from Bane, but he seemed quite pleased with the Nyrians' efforts, something that included crawling over and inside more of Roberts's men.

So far, that seemed to be the best defense they had.

Dink had just returned to this spot as well, after going out with Dake to check along the perimeter to the east and north of their current location. All of them had spread out to check the fence line, hoping to see where the next attack might come. Now they'd returned to compare notes.

By taking part in reconnaissance, Dink had gone well beyond his job of reporting the news, but there was too much at stake here to pretend he was merely an uninvolved observer. He glanced at Nick. The kid had remained behind, staying under cover and recording what he could with the video cam. It was obvious he was anxious to be part of the action, but he'd been taught his role as a reporter well. He was unwilling to cross the line between reporting the story and becoming the story. So far he'd done an excellent job of maintaining enough distance to do the job.

Dink had to admit he'd stomped all over the damned line, and he reported to Ralph from the position of soldier, not newsman. “Dake and I didn't see anything on the northeast point. It looks like they've abandoned the site where they were mobilizing earlier. Any idea what's going on? They've been awfully quiet.”

“No good, that's for sure.” Ralph took his ball cap off and rubbed his head. Gray hair stuck up in all directions, but he slapped his cap back down, glanced at Bane, and shook his head. “We could see the road below the plateau. It looks like there are more arriving all the time, maybe close to fifty men in full battle gear now, more trucks coming up from the main road. That damned Roberts is at the bottom of the hill, directing people around to the north side of the plateau, but Jesat and Aza are covering that area for us. What bothers me is that we're so shorthanded. We haven't got a prayer of stopping a full-on attack, and we don't have anyone covering the front gate.”

One of the younger security guards interrupted. “Mac said that's alarmed. Not that an alarm will stop anyone, but at least we'll know if the gate or perimeter are breached.”

“True,” Ralph said. He gazed at the azure blue sky overhead. “But knowing about it and doing something to stop it are not the same thing, and the gate isn't far from headquarters. I wish I knew how long we needed.”

Dink checked his watch. “I expected the rescue team back by now. They've been gone for almost forty-five minutes.” It was almost six. The sun had slipped behind the big mountain in the west and it would be setting within the hour, but there'd be plenty of light to see by for at least an hour beyond that.

Hopefully Roberts wouldn't attack until full dark, and by then, everyone should be home safely. Then he wondered if they'd see the Gar ship explode if it wasn't dark yet. Wondered if it was even visible from this side of the planet.

Ankar leaned over and touched Dink's shoulder to get his attention. “What is it with Roberts? Why does he fight Mac?”

“It goes back twenty years for us,” Dink said. “In the beginning, Mac saw them as a bunch of religious nuts against the science this site represented. Then one of Mac's team members did some deeper research and traced Bart Roberts back to 1992 when Mac, Zianne, and I were attacked by a couple of men trying to scare Mac away from a legal investigation. It was a rough fight and Zianne managed to trip one guy and send him sailing off a third-floor balcony. I got stabbed in the gutâwould have died if not for Zianne healing meâbut first she went into her energy form and dragged the guy off of me and dumped him off the balcony, too. Both men died from their injuries.”

He glanced at Nick to see how the kid was taking this. Ethically, Dink was much too close to this story to be the one covering it, but that was exactly why Mac had asked him to come.

“The whole scene was chaos. We'd walked into Mac's apartment without knowing the men were waiting for us. At the time, we didn't know Zianne was Nyrian.” He laughed softly, fully aware that by then he'd been a little in love with her himself.

“I didn't see her change. By then I was unconscious from loss of blood. According to Mac, I'd almost bled out by the time Zianne went inside me and healed the injuries.

“When the police came, we told them we'd been attacked though we weren't certain why. Mac did tell them about the ongoing investigation and what his suspicions were, and he was eventually proved correct. Zianne and I were treated as innocent bystanders. What we didn't know until very recently is that Bart Roberts's brother was one of those guys Zianne killed, and Bart was there. He saw it happen, saw her change. He's been out for revenge ever since, but he's also built up a powerful hatred of aliens and he's dragged a lot of crackpots along with him. He knows that what he witnessed wasn't possible for a human. That's blossomed into a rabid case of xenophobia, with Mac at the center.”

“I can sort of understand Roberts's issues,” Nick said. “But how does he get all these other guys to come out here, armed to the teeth?”

“He's very charismatic.” Dink had known his kind before and often wondered how many of them teetered on the brink of insanity. “I think he's drawn people to him by manipulating their fears while building on the need to protect the world from the evil aliens.” He lightly punched Bane's shoulder. “That's your cue, evil alien.”

“It's sad, really.” Bane rubbed his hand across his forehead. He'd told Dink earlier that sweat was a new experience for Nyrians, one he wasn't overly fond of. “If anyone's evil, it's the Gar. How can we make people like Roberts understand how badly misplaced his actions and his hatred are?”

“I don't know if you can. I just wish we could convince the local law enforcement that we're being attacked by nuts.” Dink looked over the top of the rock. Still no sign of movement.

“I wonder how long we'll need to keep this area secure,” Bane said. “We can't hold them off indefinitely. Bullets will kill even Nyrians if we're shot while in human form.”

Ralph nudged Dake's arm. “Now, if this was one of Meg's romance books, you could heal just by switching to another form. How come that doesn't work?”

Dake just shook his head and grinned at Bane. “I think I'd like those books Ralph's wife reads.” He focused on Ralph then, frustration evident in the tension that seemed to wrap around his big frame. “We can keep ourselves alive that way, but whatever state the body is in when we shift, that's what we get when we return to it. If we disassemble and then go to a place where our healers are and retake our corporeal form, and if they can fix the damage before the human body dies, then we're okay. Or we can try to create a whole new body. For that we need a heavy charge of energy. Our energy form is immortal, but honestly? I'd rather not get shot in the first place. It hurts.”

“Good point.” Ralph chuckled and the guys went on talking about various ways to stop the attack that was obviously coming, and coming soon.

Dink tapped Nick's arm and the two of them moved away from the others. “Nick, I'm thinking it might be a good idea for you to take the chopper, fly out over the front entrance, check out the gate, and make sure no one is doing anything at that end of the property. If you see any mischief, let Mac know immediately and then get back here, but be careful. If they're with this group, they could be armed as well.”

The kid gave him an odd look. “We're told to cover the news, not be the news. Are you sure that . . .”

He looked so damned sure of himself. Dink tried to remember if he'd ever been that young, that innocent. And then he thought of that time in his life with Mac and Zianne and realized he'd been even more naÃ¯ve.

“No, Nick, I'm not sure of anything right now. You just heard my story, so you know it's already personal. Plus, I believe what happens here tonight has greater implications than anything I've covered in my entire career. We're not talking about a skirmish between neighbors or even a war that impacts countries. This is something that could have an effect on our entire world. I'm not a reporter talking to you right now. I'm a man concerned about people I love and the world I'd like to grow old on.”

Nick turned away and stared at the chopper. Dink imagined he could see the wheels in the kid's brain spinning as he quickly thought through what Dink had asked him to do.

The helicopter sat in shadows in a clear area between an intact section of fence and the first row of the big satellite dishes. After a moment, Nick appeared to reach a decision. He smiled at Dink and shrugged. “I'll be back in a few minutes. I've got an extra camera on board, though it's not set up for a live feed right now. Should I get film?”

“Definitely. Thanks, Nick. Be careful.” He took the camera the kid handed to him. “Anyone takes a shot at you, get the hell out of there. I don't want you hurt.”

He watched Nick race across the open area and climb into the cockpit. Held his breath when a couple of guys popped up from behind rocks and aimed at the small craft, but a warning shot from Ralph had them ducking behind cover without firing their weapons.

Bane frowned and then grabbed Ralph's arm. “They're coming up the hillside from the north. Jesat says it's a larger group than the last, at least twenty men, heavily armed, moving through thick undergrowth. He wants to know if they should stop them.”

“Can they do the same thing they did earlier? Buzz them with energy?”

“There are more men this time, and they can only affect two at a time, but they can move among them quickly and confuse them.” Bane looked like he wished he were there with them. “I'll tell them to go for it.”

“No deaths. Mac doesn't want to have to explain anyone killed by aliens.” Ralph slumped against the rock. “You guys have to be the good guys here, which you are until you start killing off humans.”

“Gotcha. And, Ralph?” Bane planted a firm hand on the older man's shoulder. “For what it's worth, we're not killers. None of us would ever take a life without serious provocation.”

“I know that, Bane. You're good people. All of you, but what these jackasses are doing is damned provocative. I'm ready to kill off a couple of the bastards myself.”

Minutes slowly ticked by. Dink kept watch on the area where the fence had been torn out, but as the shadows deepened, it was getting harder to tell the difference between shrubbery and men in camo gear. He listened to the distant rumble of the chopper and knew that Nick hovered over the front gate, but then the sound moved farther away and he could no longer hear it.

What the hell was the kid doing?

Gunfire erupted on the north edge of the plateau. Then silence, followed by screams and terrified shouts. Dink glanced at Bane, but he was staring toward the noise and smiling, so it appeared the Nyrians were doing okay.

Movement caught his eye. Dink slipped around the edge of the boulders with his video camera. Those were definitely men, not bushes moving through the gap in the fencing. He tapped Bane's shoulder and pointed them out, then turned as he heard the echo of gunfire coming from somewhere across the plateau. He listened a moment before pinpointing the soundâdown near the front gate. So much for the religious protestors. He hoped like hell Nick was safe and moving out of danger.

Then he checked his cell phone, but there was no word from Mac, which meant the team wasn't back from the Gar ship. What the hell could have gone wrong? Crouching down behind boulders and brush, Dink turned on the camera. Softly he began to describe what was happening here, now, at the edge of the DEO-MAP site, tying everything he knew into his story. One he hoped like hell would have a happy ending.

Liz held on to Xinot's arm as she walked with him to her cabin. He was white as a ghost and really shaky, but at least the ugly wound on his chest was healedâthanks to Niahâand he was no longer bleeding. He'd arrived naked, but at some point had added a pair of those loose pants the Nyrian men seemed to favor. She wondered if it was a style choice or just easy to imagine and create when they took on a corporeal body. No matter. The way they hung from his lean hips and clung to his muscular buttocks looked so damned sexy it was all she could do to keep her mind out of the gutter.

They paused at her door and she reached around Xinot to open it, but he covered her hand in his and looked into her eyes. Damn, but his were so blue they seemed to look right through her, and it was hard to remember that this body was nothing more than something he'd constructed out of her memories.

Except she'd never known anyone who looked this hot.

“Lizzie? Please don't guard your thoughts around me.” He brushed a hand over her hair. “I can't learn if I can't read you.”

BOOK: Dream Unchained

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