The Dark Rift: Redemption (23 page)

“What?” Christy asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Just stay in there for a minute. I have to talk to some nice gentlemen about Gypsum,” he said, pointing to what was now a crowd growing larger by the moment.

Christy backed up, but left the door open. “It’ll be just a minute,” she said to the boys.

Evan joined him and Nick walked toward the armed men, his hands held high. “We’re not from Gypsum. We took one of their vans to get away from them.”

The men looked at each other, talking in voices so low that Nick couldn’t hear what they were saying. “Prove it,” the man in front said.

“I’m not sure how we can prove it, guys. I’ve got two kids and a dog in the van who --”

Christy slid the door open abruptly and jumped out. “Who’ve been chased down, kidnapped and imprisoned by Gypsum. Now, put your baseball bat away before I come and take it from you,” she said.

The man in front lowered his bat. “Oh. Uh, sorry, ma’am,” he said, lowering the bat and tipping his cap.

“No need,” Christy said. “We all feel the same way about Gypsum.”

Nick looked at Christy, astonished with her bravery. He guessed she was afraid of little after having outrun mutant creatures for the past several days.

“We need food and water. Anywhere we can get that around here?” Christy asked.

The man nodded. “Yeah. There’s a barbecue goin’ on the other side of the station. If you wanna follow me, I’ll take you over there.”

“Nick, you take them. I’m going to find someone who can help us hide this van,” Evan said.

“I can help you with that,” one of the men said, moving forward, extending his hand to Evan. “John, John Fitzpatrick from Fitzpatrick Auto. At your service.”

Evan grasped the man’s hand. “Well, hi, John,” he said.

“Time to go, guys,” Nick said, helping the boys and Hunter out of the van. “Let’s get some dinner.”

“You might wanna check inside the truck stop to see if they got any clothes your size,” one of the men said, gesturing at the blood and gore smeared on Nick’s pants. “People are bound to lose their appetite looking at that.”

“Yeah. Good idea,” Nick said. As he walked away, he could hear Evan haggling with the used car dealer.

“Well, she’s got a little front end damage, but she runs good,” Evan said. “Got less than five thousand miles on her.”

Nick laughed to himself, thinking it was nice to hear a normal conversation.

Jodie woke with a start to find herself alone in the dark storeroom. Her clothes saturated with sweat, she felt as if her body was on fire. Raising her hand to wipe her forehead, she found it shaking uncontrollably. She was covered in towels. Chuck must have done that. Where was Chuck, though? Slowly, Jodie tried to sit up, but found herself too weak. She lay her head back down and closed her eyes, not able to keep from falling asleep.

The sound of the door opening brought her back to consciousness, but she couldn’t move. She needed to hide, but her body wouldn’t cooperate, leaving her exposed to whoever might come her way. Then she heard a familiar voice.

“Back here,” Chuck said. “She just seems to be getting sicker and sicker.”

“Oh, my God,” a woman said. “That’s Jodie. Jodie Watts. Isn’t it?”

The voice sounded familiar, like she’d heard it before. Jodie thought for a moment and realized it was the voice of the woman she’d heard arguing earlier.

“Yes, it is,” Chuck said, emotion evident in his voice. “How do you know that?”

Jodie looked up, not able to focus on the woman’s face.

“I’ll fill you in after we get her into my lab,” the woman said. ”Can you carry her?”

Jodie felt herself being lifted from the floor. She watched the overhead lights passing by as Chuck walked down the hallway. Moments later, Chuck set her down on a gurney and the woman covered her with a blanket. She looked up, not recognizing Chuck’s face. Fully formed, he looked different than she recalled. He was noticeably shorter than he had been a few hours ago, too. One thing was the same, though. His eyes were full of tears as he looked down at her.

“Can you help her?” Chuck asked.

“She’s burning up,” the woman said, slipping gloves on and a mask over her face. “First thing we need to do is to give her something to bring down that fever. Then, I’ll do some tests and see what’s going on. You might want to put on a mask and gloves, too.”

“Might be too late for that,” Chuck said.

The woman looked at him with confusion written on her face.

“We’ve been together since yesterday. I would probably be sick by now if that was going to happen.”

“Well, do it for me anyway, okay? We’ll need to get her out of sight, too. She’s not safe here. If anyone finds out Jodie Watts is still alive, they’ll be after her.”

Jodie tried to speak, finding her mouth too dry to form words. She felt the pinch of the needle as it penetrated her skin. Managing to lift her hand, she grabbed Chuck’s arm.

“What, Jodie?” Chuck asked, bending down to her.

“Find out where they took Mei,” she said. “You have to save her, Chuck.”

Chuck nodded and Jodie closed her eyes, feeling the medication migrating through her veins. She felt herself slipping into a deep sleep.

* * *

The sound of laughter greeted Jodie as she woke. Slowly opening her eyes, she couldn't focus at first. However, she could tell that her fever was gone. An intravenous tube snaked from her arm up to a pole attached to the gurney she lay on. She strained to see the label on the bag of fluid, but didn’t recognize the name of whatever medicine she was being given.

Turning back, she could see Chuck in the next room, talking with the woman he’d brought to help her. She hadn't really looked at the woman closely before, but could tell she was probably from the Middle East. Her bright blue eyes shone against her tawny skin and dark hair. Chuck appeared as if he couldn't take his eyes off of her. They seemed to be at ease with each other, almost as if they were on a date, until Chuck grabbed a Three Musketeers and bit through the wrapper. The woman laughed. Still just Chuck, Jodie thought.

Feeling like she had enough strength to sit up, Jodie pushed herself up on her elbows.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Chuck said, getting up from the table. The woman followed him into the room. Chuck reached behind Jodie and helped her sit up all the way, while the woman placed two pillows behind her back.

“Thank you,” Jodie said, eyeing the woman with suspicion. “How long have I been out?”

“About four hours,” the woman said, handing her a glass of water.

Jodie found herself grabbing at the glass. She downed it in a few big gulps and handed it back.

"I'll fill that up again," the woman said. "How are you feeling?"

Jodie glanced at Chuck and almost burst out laughing. His chin covered in a thick beard, he looked like a very fit lumberjack dressed in scrubs. Turning back to the woman, she said, "I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"Oh, yes, I should explain," she said, her voice soft and flute-like. "My name is Hana. I'm part of the Gypsum genetics team."

Jodie wanted to jump out of the bed and knock the woman off her feet, pretty eyes and all.

"I can see you're angry," Hana said. "You have every reason to be."

Jodie pushed the sheet back and started to get out of the bed.

"You have to wait, Jodie," Chuck said, putting his hand on her shoulder and gently pushing her back. "You need to hear her out."

"But . . . Mei, we have to find Mei," Jodie said.

"I know," Chuck said. "Hana can help us. First, you have to listen for a minute." He turned and walked out of the room.

What in the hell is wrong with him, Jodie wondered. He acts as if we've got all the time in the world. Hana handed her a second glass of water. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should drink it, but shrugged off her suspicions and downed it like the first. After all, she felt a lot better than she had a few hours ago. If she’d caught one of the viruses her mother had unleashed on the Gypsum population, she’d likely have died without Hana’s help.

Looking into the next room, she could see Chuck grab two chairs. He brought them back and set them down next to the bed.

Chuck sat down in a chair and it creaked in protest. "Okay, Hana, let's clue Jodie in on the family secret."

* * *

Evan stood between two tractor-trailers, talking with a man he'd only met a few minutes before. He’d just finished bargaining for transportation. After disposing of the Gypsum van, stressing to the man from Fitzpatrick Autos that he should keep it out of sight, he’d met a family wanting to rid themselves of their camper. They'd gone back and forth on price and finally reached an agreement. He'd written a check for twenty-five thousand dollars and handed it to the man.

"You’re sure this is good?” the man said, holding the check up to the light.

“On my honor, sir,” Evan told him.

Folding the check and sliding it in his wallet, the man shook his head. “Those Gypsum fuckers kicked us out before we could even get anything from the house.” He handed Evan a bottle of bourbon. “Drink on the deal?”

Evan took the bottle and uncapped it, taking a whiff of the ten-dollar brandy before tipping the bottle back and taking a good long swig.

"My missus, well she's pretty well pissed about that ham she took out to thaw. Musta gone bad by now. Been three days."

Evan tucked the bottle under his arm, took out his wallet, and pulled out a fifty-dollar bill. He handed it to the man. "For when you get back home. Get your wife another ham."

The man grabbed the bill out of his hand, thanked him, grinned over his ham money and left without taking his bottle. Evan was glad for the silence. Sitting down on the pavement next to the truck, he leaned against the wheel of the trailer and took another swig of brandy. His worry over Jodie was mounting. He could picture the look on her face as the elevator doors closed when he’d left her in the Gypsum installation. A look of conviction. Determined. His daughter, his beautiful daughter, left underground to fight the things her mother had created. Evan thought she was the most perfect child a man could have, while the wife he'd held in such esteem for so long, nothing but a poor excuse for a mother and human being. He felt his fists clenching.

"Deep in thought?" Christy said, approaching him with a plateful of food.

"Deep thoughts are beyond my capabilities at this point, I'm afraid," he said.

Christy extended the plate to him and he took it, aware that he was hours past feeling hungry already.

"We were worried about you," she said, squeezing his shoulder for a brief moment.

"No need for that," Evan said between mouthfuls of potato salad. "I've procured us new transportation." He held up a ring with two keys dangling from it. "A camper, no less. . . but it has no ham."

Christy looked at him and smiled. "I know there's meaning in that statement, but I'm too tired to figure it out right now."

Evan gestured, waving it off as insignificant as he swallowed a bite of chicken. "Not important. Say, considering the condition of the family I procured the camper from, it might be a good idea to air it out before we're on our way." He held up the keys for Christy. "Want to take a look?"

"Oh, I can't wait, Evan," she said, laughing. "I cannot imagine a scenario in which anything smells worse than us, though."

"Not you, my dear. You're as fresh as the springtime dew," Evan said, loading his mouth full of peas.

"Oh, my God, now I'll have to tell everyone you've lost your mind," Christy said, a smile taking over her face. "Where is it, Evan? The camper?"

He put his plastic fork down and wiped his face. "Just at the end of this row of trucks. Can't miss it. It has a rather unusual painting on the side. A pink flamingo, I think. Riding on a Harley Davidson motorcycle. One of a kind, you know."

"Oh, my . . . I'll go take a look," Christy said. "You don't go anywhere, okay?"

"Not moving an inch," Evan said.

Christy smiled at him and grabbed his shoulder again, squeezing it. He sensed, regardless of his attempts at humor, that she understood he was worried about Jodie, but there was nothing anyone could do, other than keep out of harm's way.

Jodie knew what she was doing, but she had one downfall. She'd never leave anyone behind. If it killed her, she'd get Mei out. Evan looked down at the chicken he was just about to bite into and felt repulsed. Jodie, who couldn't harm an animal, who thought all of nature beautiful, was faced with having to fight for her life, with having to kill people in order to survive. He knew what this was doing to his daughter.

Before he was even aware he was crying, tears dropped down on his plate. Evan wiped his eyes on his shirtsleeve and set the chicken leg down, thankful to be alone in his sorrow. After a few minutes, he felt calmer, almost about to drift off to sleep when a voice woke him.

"Hey, Evan," Nick's voice boomed between the two trailers. "Nice ride you got us."

Evan looked up to see Nick, dressed in new University of Nevada, Las Vegas sweatpants and a matching t-shirt. Nick was followed by Noah, Fester and Hunter. Evan slid the bourbon bottle to the side and slipped it behind the tire he was leaning on, not wanting the boys to see he’d been drinking. "You like it?"

"Yeah," Nick said. "Although it does smell a little like dead possum."

Evan laughed. "So did the guy who sold it to me." As he finished his sentence, he could feel the air change around him. A strange breeze blew between the trucks. He looked up at Nick, seeing a growing concern developing.

Evan set his plate on the ground and tried to stand, but the brandy had taken its toll and he pitched forward. Just before he hit the pavement, Nick caught him. The wind was terrible now, pushing down on them in an unnatural way. It roared and thwumped the air. Evan finally managed to regain his balance and looked up to see a jet-black helicopter hovering over the camp. The roar from its engines unbearable, Evan clapped his hands over his ears until it moved away. Paper and debris swirled in the air around them.

"Get under the truck," he yelled, pointing to a space under one of the trailers.

Nick nodded, pulling the boys and Hunter with him into sanctuary just as the helicopter made its next pass.

Still in the open, Evan looked up as it passed by. With blackened windows, he couldn't see inside the cockpit. Suddenly, the side door slid open and a man clad in combat gear appeared. He grabbed onto an automatic weapon mounted inside the helicopter and aimed off in the distance.

The helicopter moved out of their view. "We have to go. Now. Get to the camper," Evan yelled, running toward Nick and the boys.

They crawled out from under the truck and ran toward the camper, Hunter barking frantically at the sky until Nick picked him up. Evan turned to see where the helicopter had gone, watching it hover over the Gypsum van he’d sold earlier.

People scattered in all directions as the helicopter descended, creating a huge dust cloud. He could hear the screams as the automatic weapon burst to life, mowing down everyone in its path. The helicopter repositioned and a man with a grenade launcher appeared in the side door opening. Evan saw John Fitzpatrick, the kind man he'd met earlier, running from the van just as the grenade hit it, igniting a massive explosion, incinerating everything and everyone in its wake.

Someone was yelling for him. Suddenly realizing he’d stopped running, he turned, seeing the camper heading toward him. Cars and trucks from all over the parking lot roared to life, tearing across the landscape in all directions. Good, Evan thought. They won’t know which of us to follow. The helicopter hovered overhead, the gunman randomly firing his weapon at people running toward their vehicles.