Thunder (7 page)

Stemple's shoulders relaxed and a slight smile crept across his lips.

Treva furrowed her brow. “Sir, could you forgo calling me a child? I think in this day and age, twenty is old enough to be considered a woman.”

Everling studied the research paper. “Yes, and don't call me
sir
.
Doctor
will do.”

Treva stood with her hands in her pockets. She knew she'd overstepped the boundaries Stemple had mandated, but he was wasting too much time.

Stemple motioned her to follow him. She glanced in Everling's direction. He'd returned to studying the screen.

Outside the Lab Section Ten confinement area, the reader scanned Stemple's palm and right eye, then beeped. The frosted glass panel slid into the ceiling, then closed with a soft whoosh once they entered.

He turned on Treva and snatched her by the arm. At five eleven he appeared menacing, towering over her five-feet-four frame. “What was that all about? I told you to lay low.”

Treva refused to be intimidated. She wrenched her arm free from his grip and rubbed at the spot. “What's your problem? You wanted me to get the job as his lab assistant, and I'm pretty sure I just accomplished the task.”

“That wasn't the point. Do you know how many ways it could have gone wrong?”

“Well, it didn't, so let's get on with the job. I can use the extra bio-coin.” She knew just the right bit of knowledge to add to the equation to deem herself an asset, and she'd picked correctly with the genetics report. She hadn't been ready to
start her plan this early, but when the rare job opening in this section had come up, she jumped on it.

“Is that all this job means to you—monetary advancement?” Stemple stood toe-to-toe with her.

Treva screwed up her bottom lip. No, that wasn't all the job meant to her, but she couldn't tell him. There was no possibility of trusting Stemple with her real objective. “What else? Do you really expect me to give a hoot about those aliens they capture?”

Stemple furrowed his brow and glared. “They're human beings just like we are. And they deserve better than your loathing.”

Treva stepped back. Maybe it was worth testing him. It would be helpful to have an ally. “Well, aren't you just the champion of the downtrodden.”

Stemple frowned. “I have no interest in the captives other than scientific. But I've seen the notations about suspected illegal alien interactions in your full life records.”

Treva's shoulders dropped. “Suspicions are not facts.” She needed a look at those records to see what might be in there. Embarrassing data wouldn't help her long-term goal. “I didn't know full life stats stayed in your records after university.”

“The records are forever.”

She mentally calculated what it would take for her to hack the system. “I thought parts of it were sealed.”

Stemple raised an eyebrow. “Are you worried about something?”

Her eyes darted up and to the right. She'd never been good
at lying, but she needed to put on her best innocent face. She flashed a smile. “I guess not. You hired me.”

“That I did. And we're going to get off to a better start once I lay out the ground rules.”

“Like not eating your lunch out of the cooling unit?” She figured light teasing might put him at ease faster than being standoffish.

“No, like your interaction with the Landers.”

Treva lowered her gaze, hoping he wouldn't ban her from the necessary interaction. “Landers—as in plural. How many are left after the one that just died?”

Stemple's cheeks reddened. He hesitated then recovered. “Several, but a Lander child is being brought in from Dominion Borough.”

“A child? How did they get a Lander child?” Treva's heart rate ticked up. This couldn't be happening. Not now.

“I don't know. Everling got the data.” Stemple looked at his halo-tablet and pulled up several reports. “Why?”

“I'm just curious,” she stuttered.

He stared at her. “I just bet you are.”

“Listen, I'm not too fond of the way you seem to be treating me. Maybe it was a mistake for me to take this job.”

Stemple rubbed his chin. “I'm sorry. I was being rude. You just threw off my schedule by plunging in like that. I wanted to talk with you first about the ground rules for the job before we approached the doctor. The paramount rule is nothing gets outside of this lab. Nothing about our work, our conversations, or anything you observe.”

Treva smiled. Okay, back on track with work. “That's a
pretty basic rule of confidentiality for an experimental lab environment.”

Stemple shook his head. “I don't think you understand the ramifications of this gag order. This means absolutely no one other than you, me, or the doctor knows exactly what we're processing.”

Now it was Treva's turn to raise an eyebrow. Test the water. “What if one of the Politicos calls me for questioning?”

Stemple's look drilled holes in her. “Then you know nothing.”

“Well, I should probably tell you Charles Ganston was a friend of my father's. He's like an uncle to me.” She figured he'd find it in the records before she could alter them. And it would give them a small secret she could use to see if she could trust him.

Stemple perked up. “That's why he let you lead him out of the lab. I thought it was a little strange he became docile so quickly.”

Treva grinned. This might just work.

Stemple clenched his teeth and pointed a finger. “If you want to keep your job, never mention him again, especially to Everling. They are childhood rivals.”

Treva opened her mouth but then closed it without a word.

“Now you're getting the idea,” Stemple said. “Let's see if we can come to terms on everything else. You'll take over this job monitoring Landers that I normally oversee.”

He walked to the console and tapped the green button for the first pod. The plascine composite wall changed from opaque to translucent then slowly became transparent. This
new material fascinated Treva. It had the strength of steel but the fluidity to allow unfettered views as though it were glass.

She glanced at the cell interior. A private water closet stood in the far left corner against the wall, displaying a virtual screen with a pastoral scene of mountains, a waterfall, and several deer frolicking among meadow flowers. The rest of the room consisted of a slab bed with a thin mattress, coverings that slid from the wall diagonal to the screen, and a small table and chair this side of the water closet.

At the table sat a subject. He never glanced up or made any movement to acknowledge that the wall had become clear. He sat perfectly straight in the chair with his head down. Long dark hair fell over his eyes, obscuring his face. She guessed by the length of his torso he probably stood about six feet tall.

Treva stared at the Lander. “Is the wall two-way? Does he know we're here?”

“Yes. He has very distinctive abilities we have to control.” Stemple crossed his arms and backed up a step.

Treva averted her eyes from the dark-haired man and glanced at Stemple. “Is there something wrong?”

Stemple frowned and dropped his arms. “No. Why do you ask?”

Treva smiled. “Because your body language tells me differently. Have you ever had a run-in with him?”

Stemple jerked his head back. “No! Why would you think something like that?”

The man sitting at the table slowly turned his head in their direction and lifted his chin until he was staring eye to eye with Stemple. His hair fell back, exposing a handsome face with a chiseled jawline and olive complexion. He carried the
standard forehead-and-temple marking of a Lander. His lips parted in an almost imperceivable smile.

Stemple stumbled back, shook himself, and regained his composure. “I'm late for a meeting.” He looked everywhere but at the cell.

Treva shrugged. “I have to finish gathering the samples for the test station.”

Stemple smacked the wall panel and stormed from the room.

Treva leaned back against the near wall and watched Stemple leave. What had gotten into him? There was fear in his eyes. She turned back to the man staring holes through her. It didn't make her nervous, but it did make her curious. She'd been waiting for this. She picked up the control module and walked toward the wall while maintaining eye contact.

“Hello.”

He didn't respond. Treva reached out to touch the clear surface of the cell, and a mellow vibration radiated through her fingers and into her wrist. She jerked her hand away and rubbed the tips of her fingers together. He continued to stare at her. She knew full well that plascine walls didn't vibrate. Maybe she was imagining it. She reached out again.

Her fingertips rested gently against the surface, and warmth radiated outward from them. She tipped her head to the side. “Are you doing that?”

She didn't pull back this time, but the warmth subsided as she stared at her hand. The change felt like a loss she couldn't explain.

“What if I am?” the man asked in a baritone voice.

Treva opened her mouth to speak, but what was she going
to say? Stemple had left without any explicit instructions. “I assumed the drugs were disabling your abilities, or at least that's what I was told. Why are they drugging you?”

“Do you really care, or are you just making conversation?”

Treva bit down on her lip then released it. “I really care.”

The man cracked a smile, lowered his head, then looked up at her with a devilish grin. “Once, long ago, I slammed Stemple against a wall.”

“You've been physically violent?” Adrenaline flooded her body. She felt the urge to flee.

“No.”

Her legs trembled. “You don't think throwing someone against a wall is violent?”

“I never touched him.”

Treva's eyes widened. “Then how?”

“I thought it.”

Her brain became an instant jumble of thoughts all bombarding her at the same time. She laid her palm against the wall. “You did it with your mind?”

He smiled broadly. “Yes, and I've let them think they're controlling me with the drugs.”

Treva looked down at the controller in her other hand. “What is your name?”

His head jerked toward her. He stared at her with smoky green eyes. “Glade Rishon.”

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She wondered if he could hear it. “Are you planning on hurting me?”

“No, but why would you believe my answer?”

Treva tipped her head to the side. This was illogical, but other than excitement, her emotions were calm. She needed
to start this operation somewhere. “I can't tell you why right now, but I do trust you.” She fingered the controller and the clear door slid up out of the way. Treva slowly stepped inside the cell, conscious to stay by the opening. “If you still have abilities they can't control, why are you letting them keep you in this place?”

S
elah tipped her head to home in on the sound. Wagon wheels. Horses. Sliding from her perch, she snatched up her backpack and sank behind the boulder. It took a good ten minutes for them to arrive. How had she heard them that far away? And what else could she do out of the ordinary? Smells. She could smell the horses before she saw them. Could she really smell Father? The familiar mix of his body scent and her mother's special-made herbal soap was unmistakable.

The team came into view, pulling a wagon. She'd recognize those bay horses anywhere. The one on the right was a light copper red, the left one a dark mahogany. Both horses tended to pull to the side, so Father had trained their manes to lay in the direction they pulled. The horses were positioned with their black manes toward the center between them to draw them toward each other, thus moving in a straight line.

Father manned the reins, Raza beside him. The AirStream was lodged in the bed of the wagon. Raza must have left to
get Father right after she'd quit arguing with him yesterday. Her opportunity to speak to Cleon alone had evaporated. The wagon passed by the boulder and stopped about halfway between her and the barn.

Father stood up from his seat and looked around. Selah pressed herself into the ground.

“What's the matter?” Raza scanned the bushes.

“I don't know,” Father said. “Something's not right. I feel like there's a Lander nearby.”

Selah shrank away from the rock. Her mother had told her this could happen. At least knowing Mother was right helped to bolster her resolve.

“Cleon has him in the barn. Good, he must have kept the mark. I didn't wait to see, fearing I'd miss you at the Borough meeting.”

Father shook his head. “No, it doesn't feel quite right.”

It took until this very moment for Selah to realize she and the boys had never questioned how or why Father had honed the perfect ability to track Landers. Funny how one piece of information connected so many pieces of the puzzle. She saw so many things clearly now.

“You're out of practice. We haven't caught one in a couple months.”

“I don't think so, but you may be right.” Father patted Raza's back. “I'm proud of you. You're becoming quite the hunter.”

Selah balked. Raza probably didn't tell Father she'd actually done the hunting and all he did was the stealing.

“Are you going to accompany us up north to the Mountain?”

Father sat and signaled the horses forward. “No, I have other business. You two boys will be fine. This isn't your first time alone.”

Father looked back over his shoulder one last time. Selah pulled her head back but peeked at him through the bush without so much as twitching a muscle.

“Goodbye, Father,” she mouthed.

Selah had never needed a devious nature in the past. Well, she didn't count getting one over on her brothers. But this new mode felt foreign. She'd never have time to free the Lander here. She'd have to follow and grab him while they slept. But how could she keep up? They were traveling by wagon.
Think
.

She watched as Cleon waved and darted back in the barn. Father and Raza unloaded the AirStream and directed it to the storage bay beside the barn. She thought about taking it but knew Father could electronically trace its whereabouts if he noticed it missing. Granted, he wouldn't be able to signal the boys, but he could take the other machine and catch up to her, so that wouldn't work.

Bodhi came into view, hands and legs shackled to allow him only tiny steps. He didn't deserve that kind of treatment after saving her. She made a mental note to slip into the barn after they left and grab the spare set of keys for those shackles.

Bodhi shuffled slowly, kicking up little puffs of dust from the worn hardpan surface in front of the barn. It looked as though he were taking extra-small steps just to annoy Cleon, who urged him on by prodding him in the shoulder. Father stepped in front of him. Bodhi glared. Father looked him over and inspected the mark on his forehead. No words were exchanged.

Seemingly satisfied, Father patted Raza on the shoulder, unhitched the horses, and directed them into the barn. When he finished grooming and feeding them, he'd head past the barn to the lane leading up to the house and Selah would never see him again.

She could hear their conversations two hundred feet away as though they were standing next to her. She'd have to learn to use these skills to her advantage.

“Come on, move it! I don't have all day.” Cleon pushed Bodhi's shoulder again.

Bodhi tripped forward. As he caught his footing, he looked right at her.

Selah froze. Was she visible? No, she couldn't be. The foliage on the bush had grown lush with the constant rains this summer. Yet he'd looked right here.

She didn't know anything about Landers. Another blank spot in the learning she should have acquired before deciding to hunt them. Since Mother had explained about her father's—correction, her stepfather's—abilities, she guessed all Landers had the same discernment. She hitched a half smile. Wait till Bodhi got a look at who he was sensing. Or could he tell that it was her? Her smile faded. Would he be angry at her for causing his capture? There was no expression on his face to give her a clue. She'd seen his fighting abilities. What if he wanted to hurt her?

Too many questions and not enough answers.

Raza and Cleon hauled Bodhi up into the wagon and loaded supplies in behind him, probably to make it more difficult for him to slip out unnoticed. They lifted several short cage crates covered with loose tarps into the back end.
What were they? Maybe food for the trip? No, neither of them ate meat and they wouldn't carry fish in a cage. Maybe they carried big snakes to sell to the tanner on the way to the Mountain. Both anacondas and Burmese pythons were rare this far north, but on occasion a traveler would lose one or two at a Company station en route and it would take up residence, decimating the local small game population.

Next they rolled out an RU. The Reclaim Unit would convert moisture in the air and give them fresh drinking water for the trip. Neither Raza nor Cleon would drink stream water. They were so much like Father. He'd invested much bio-coin to buy the unit several years ago. It cost precious amounts of fuel to operate, but Father felt it was a necessity for travel so they didn't have to drink from unknown water sources.

That gave her an idea. The horses and wagon, with three people and the supplies, could probably get to the Mountain in several days depending on how much they pushed. They'd have to follow about two hundred miles of meandering roads around the rubble and ruin of ancient cities and towns, but she knew where they'd settle in for the night. The areas were full of good pasture and streams for the horses. If luck was on her side, Selah could cut across land and travel straight as the crow flew, beating them there. Granted, she might have to traverse some large kudzu-infested areas, but she felt confident she could stay ahead of them at any of the stations.

Her heart pounded against her ribs. What made her think she could do this? Doubt crept into her mind, making her hands shake. She smashed them to the ground.
Stop it!
Selah bit her bottom lip hard enough to make herself yelp and taste blood. Her mother's words rolled through her head loud and
clear:
Okay, that's
enough with the self-destruction. Get on with the task
at hand.
She needed to plot a travel route.

She planned the first leg of the trip in her mind while she watched Bodhi. With his head hung low, his blond hair fell across his face, masking his rugged features and sea-blue eyes. The first time those eyes stared at her, she'd hyperventilated. At the time she'd convinced herself that it was his sudden awakening that had startled her, but now, with time to think about it, she felt a stirring deep within her better left untouched.

She shook her head to dismiss the visual of those eyes, then looked up to see Raza reach over the side of the wagon and rip Bodhi's shirt from the back of his neck.

Selah rose on her haunches to stop him, then huffed under her breath and pulled back. She couldn't give herself away or she'd be of no help. Her brother tore Bodhi's linen shirt to shreds and laughed. Raza used a remnant of the fine material to wipe the sweat from his brow, then threw the fabric to the dirt and ground it into the road with his heavy work boot.

She seethed. Captive or not, Bodhi would sunburn and need salve and extra water to keep him alive until they reached the Mountain. Logical reasoning was the one skill she held over her brothers. They were crude and basic and acted on any whim, while she had spent her time learning the lessons Mother diligently drilled into her.
Patience is a
virtue.

She tried to tamp down the anger. Mother said hotheads made stupid choices. She glanced from Raza to Bodhi and her breath caught in her throat. Bodhi's arms and torso possessed the well-defined muscles of a fighter. And although he didn't appear to be expending the energy it took to sweat,
moisture glistened on his fair skin, radiating a glow from the sun overhead. It compelled her to stare.

His skin looked close to translucent after the protective linen was stripped away. Selah averted her eyes as a tingling crept up her chest and settled in her throat. A gulp pushed it back down. She reminded herself that this was not about his looks but about the condition he'd be in after hours in the unrelenting sun.

Bodhi lifted his head. The hair fell back from his face. He opened his eyes and turned to stare in her direction again. She swallowed another invading lump. He couldn't possibly see her.

He smiled . . . and winked.

Her world screeched to a halt.

Selah's eyes widened as her hand flew to her chest. Not sure why, maybe to see if her heartbeat was still there. He smiled again.

Selah squinted. It was as though he could read her thoughts and was responding.

Raza came around the side of the wagon carrying more supplies. He turned back to the barn and glanced up at Bodhi. “What're you grinning about?”

Bodhi shut his eyes and hung his head without answering. He seemed calm, almost too calm. She would have been rabid with rage at being trussed, but he seemed to have moved beyond his physical state. He sat erect, eyes closed most of the time. It unnerved her that every once in a while his eyes opened and he would calmly look in her direction.

Even though she sat still, sweat dripped from her temples and slid down her chest. The sun crept toward its noonday
high. Raza and Cleon were beginning to show large wet spots under their arms and down the backs of their shirts as they loaded the wagon.

Selah remembered shorter trips than the normal several days' ride because they were afforded the opportunity to hop a Company AirStream at one of the stations. Those jet-propelled hovercrafts traveled near the ground but averaged fifty miles an hour.

A thought slapped her. If they arrived at a station at the right time and hopped a Company AirStream before she could rescue Bodhi, what was she going to do? She would have no recourse left to stop them or catch up.

Having no recourse was not an option. She'd not thought that far ahead. Maybe the sun was getting hotter, but she felt a sudden flush to her skin. Was it fear?

It took another half hour for her brothers to hitch up the spare team and head out. The dust had barely settled back to the road when Selah grabbed her backpack. She tiptoed to the barn and peeked inside, hoping her father had already left through the back door. He had.

She grabbed the keys from the nail inside the door and scraped the soft flesh of her thumb on a jagged piece of timber. She yelped. A trickle of blood oozed from the slice. She brought her thumb to her mouth to clean away the blood. Great. First blood and she wasn't even out of the barnyard.

She trotted across the tall-grassed hayfield to the left of the barn and disappeared into the tree line at the break in the encroaching kudzu where the animals normally grazed. For her, it would be about a two-hour journey to the first travel station, where her brothers would bed down for the
night. The wagon and team would take the better part of the afternoon to get there.

It felt good to trot. For most of her life, Selah had enjoyed running. Mother had encouraged her to depend on her feet instead of mechanical forms of travel. She felt they made people lazy and fat. Seemed another one of Mother's lessons was proving fruitful.

Selah's backpack hung firmly cinched to her body, offering no resistance to her movements. She'd keep up this pace until she got tired and then stop at her favorite stream for water and a short break.

She used the compass Mother had given her for the tenth Birth Remembrance. Funny how so many things she'd learned now seemed important when at the time they'd felt useless and so out of place. The emerging culture of most Boroughs grew dependent on Mountain technology, and the old ways were slowly disappearing. She remembered scowling and tossing the compass into her box of dolls, which were much more important to her at the time. Now she silently thanked Mother and headed due north.