AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Acquiring the target was worth the exposure.
And, if all went well, the whole operation would simply be blamed on the Harvesters.
Three days ago was Einar’s eighteenth birthday. He’d spent it among these sweat-stinking cretins. He hadn’t told anyone, not even Rabiya.
As a belated gift, he hoped to see some of these Harvesters die.
Einar speed-walked towards the ridge with his Harvester escort. Once there, he crouched down in the grass, careful not to get any dirt on his suit. He opened his attaché and took out his goggles. They were bulky things and Einar tsked in annoyance as one of the straps caught on his ear.
“Here, let me help,” said the Harvester. He straightened the strap on the back of Einar’s head before Einar could stop him.
Einar turned to regard the Harvester. His eyes looked bulbous and huge with the goggles on.
“Thank you,” said Einar coldly.
“No problem,” the guy said. “That accent. You Russian or something? Been meaning to ask.”
“Icelandic,” Einar replied.
He turned to watch the road, waiting for the van to come into view. The goggles were not night vision. They did not magnify Einar’s vision. He stared into the darkness.
If his target came down that road, he would know.
“Never met anyone from Iceland before,” the Harvester continued. “That’s cool.”
“What is your name?” Einar asked.
“Silas.”
“You are talkative, Silas,” Einar observed. “Does the dark make you nervous?”
Silas laughed. “Hell no, man. I’m just making conversation.”
Einar concentrated on this young man. Silas’s palms began to sweat. His stomach turned over, clenched in a knot. His heart was pounding now. Was that movement in the grass? What were those shadows? Einar smiled thinly when he sensed Silas creep a little closer to him, as if for protection.
“Actually, it is a little freaky out here,” Silas said, his voice cracking. “Shit, man. I’m weirded out.”
“Be calm,” Einar said, and released his hold on the Harvester. It was so easy to put the fear in people when they didn’t know what was happening.
Headlights appeared in the distance. Einar turned his attention to the road below. The van approached . . .
“What . . . ?” Einar mumbled.
He struck the side of his goggles with the heel of his hand. What he saw didn’t seem possible. He checked the diagnostic in the bottom-left corner of the display. Everything appeared normal; the goggle’s batteries were fully charged.
The reading had to be correct.
Einar’s lips quirked in a bemused smile. Through his goggles, he watched six vivid blue energy signatures pass by on the road.
He pulled his walkie-talkie from his hip. “Rabiya?”
His partner came back a moment later, her voice soft as always. “Yes, Einar?”
“There are six coming your way. Confirm the target is among them before engaging.”
“Yes, Einar.”
Calmly, Einar returned the goggles to his attaché. He felt Silas’s eyes upon him, his mouth agape.
“You say six, fella?” Silas asked. “Six of—of those things down there in that van?”
“Yes. Six of them without an escort,” Einar replied. He turned on his heel and headed back for camp. “Your men must arm themselves and prepare to engage.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
TAYLOR COOK
MAR A VISTA—CALIFORNIA
TAYLOR GOT AN UNEASY FEELING IN THE PIT OF her stomach as soon as the taillights came into view.
They were on a back road headed south from the Academy. Probably gorgeous in daylight, but empty and ominous at night. Taylor couldn’t understand where her anxiety was coming from. She’d grown up in big, empty expanses like this. She’d never been unnerved by stretches of lonely country.
That was before the attack on her farm. Before the nightmares.
Isabela had the radio on. Bright pop music that seemed at odds with the night. Nigel agreed.
“Turn that rubbish off,” he complained again and again.
“I am the driver,” Isabela replied. “This means I choose the music.”
“Bloody hell, let me drive then.”
“No. You would kill us all. Drive on the wrong side of the road or something. Or poison our characters with your terrible punk rock.”
“Aw, your character’s already poisoned enough, darling.”
“You should broaden your horizons, Isabela,” Kopano said. “Nigel’s music is awesome.” Isabela shot him a withering look and he held up his hands. “What you’re playing is fine, too.”
Taylor looked over her shoulder. Ran sat cross-legged in the back, the bumpy riding not at all disturbing her meditation. Caleb sat next to her, his hand holding one of the cargo straps so he didn’t slide across the van whenever Isabela took a turn too fast. He was watching her. Taylor still didn’t know what to make of him. He had a crush on her? He was mentally disturbed? He was a sort of dorky boy from the Midwest? She caught his eye and immediately worried such a look would be misinterpreted.
“Everything okay?” Caleb asked her. He must have read the unease on her face.
“Yeah,” she replied, and forced a smile.
“America is much bigger than I thought,” Kopano observed cheerily. He’d wedged himself in between Isabela and Taylor, his butt on Isabela’s armrest, his arm across the back of Taylor’s chair. “Do you know I used to think one could drive from New York to California in a day?”
Taylor chuckled as she glanced up at him, relaxing a little. “Maybe if you drove like Isabela.”
Isabela nodded firmly. “Yes. I could do that.”
“Are we there yet?” Kopano asked.
“God, you are like a child,” Isabela snapped. “It was an hour when you asked five minutes ago. Do the math, big boy.”
“Don’t make her turn the car around,” Taylor said with a smirk.
“Look!” Kopano said, pointing through the windshield. “An accident?”
The taillights.
Kopano was the first one to spot them. Up ahead, a beat-up station wagon was parked across the center lane. The hood was popped, the headlights on, two silhouettes visible as they peered down at the engine. A curl of steam or smoke emanated from the open hood.
Immediately, Isabela stepped on the brakes. As the van slowed to a crawl, Isabela turned down the music.
“Looks like a breakdown,” Caleb said.
“We should help,” Kopano put in.
“I actually know a few things about cars,” Caleb added. “Used to hang around with the base mechanics—”
“Should we really be stopping?” Taylor asked, embarrassed by the quaking unease in her voice. “We don’t know these people.”
Kopano gave her a surprised look. “Seriously? We just drive by them?”
“Need I remind you, we aren’t supposed to be away from the Academy?” Isabela said sharply. “In San Francisco, we will blend into the crowd. But out here? What if that is someone from the school?”
Caleb squinted into the headlights as the van creaked closer to the breakdown. “If they’re from the Academy, they’ll probably recognize us anyway.”
Nigel glanced at Ran. She peered through the windshield with an arched eyebrow, her lips pursed. He turned to the others. “If they aren’t from the Academy, then what are they doing out here?”
“Driving,” Kopano said with a laugh. “Going to the beach? Hiking? You guys are being paranoid.”
“I would think it best if we avoid being seen this close to the Academy,” Ran said.
That settled matters for Isabela. She leaned over the wheel. “Everyone duck down and I will drive us on the shoulder.”
