Rise of the Elgen (5 page)

“I was.”

“Put out your hand,” he said. He handed me the phone and this time it lit up.

“You were holding it wrong. See these metallic strips on the side? They’re made of a silver alloy. The phone is designed to run off your electricity. That way it never runs out.”

“And it won’t work for anyone else,” I said. I looked down at the address the man had texted me. “Thirty-eight South Malvern Avenue.”

“I know that area,” Jack said. “It’s an industrial park. There are a lot of printing shops.” Jack shouted to Wade, “Follow me!” Then he backed up and screeched out of the parking lot, followed by Wade, who also tried to screech but managed only a small chirp.

After we’d driven a few blocks, Taylor asked, “What’s going on, Michael? And who was that woman?”

“I don’t know who she was. But she knows who we are and who’s chasing us.”

“She knew about the Elgen?” Ostin asked.

I nodded. “She gave me the phone. A man called who says he’s going to help us. He also told me that the van Wade’s driving has a tracking device. That’s how they’ve been following us. We need to ditch our cars.”

“Wait a minute,” Jack said. “No one said anything about ditching my car.”

“Who is this man?” Taylor asked.

“Just . . . some man.” I looked at her. “I know it sounds stupid, but I believe he’s trying to help.”

“I’m not ditching my car,” Jack said.

“How do you know you can trust him?” Taylor asked.

“I don’t. But do we have a choice?”

“Yes,” she said, “we do.”

I took her hand. “Here, read my mind. Listen to what he said.”

She closed her eyes as I thought back on the call. When she opened her eyes she nodded. “Okay. I trust him too.”

Jack was still upset. “You’re saying that some dude I’ve never met wants me to ditch my car? I’m not ditching my car.”

“They want us to
trade
cars.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he said. “Do you know what this baby is worth?”

“The Elgen are following your car. They can either capture you and the car, or just the car. It’s your call.”

Jack shook his head. “This just keeps getting better.”

*   *   *

We had driven about a half mile from the salon when two Meridian Police cars sped past us headed in the opposite direction. Their lights were flashing but there were no sirens.

“There they go,” Jack said. “Looks like your man knows something.”

“Maybe he’s the one who called the police,” Ostin said.

Possible
, I thought.

The address on my cell phone led us to an abandoned industrial area near an automotive wrecking yard. I was nervous and twitching. I’m pretty certain everyone was nervous, because no one was talking. I looked over at Jack. His face was tight and his eyes were darting back and forth, searching for danger. The yard was surrounded by a tall fence topped with razor wire, and the sun had nearly set, leaving the yard dark.

“I don’t like this place,” Taylor said.

“Not a lot of escape options,” Jack said slowly. “Keep your eyes peeled.”

There was a loud snap of electricity from Zeus, and we all jumped. “Sorry,” he said. “Just keeping sharp.”

I did my best to control my tics. “I told Ian to have Wade honk if he sees anything that looks like a trap,” I said.

We slowly drove around the corner of a weathered, aluminum-sided warehouse. There, next to a Dumpster, were two brand-new Hummers, one yellow, the other black.

Jack’s expression changed when he saw the vehicles. “That’s what they’re giving us to drive?”

“Must be,” I said. “I don’t see any other cars.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “I’ll trade.”

We pulled up to the parked vehicles, and everyone got out of the cars.

“Are we safe?” I asked Ian.

“As far as I can tell. The only person around is a homeless guy sleeping in a Dumpster behind the building across the street.”

I handed Wade a key. “You take the black Hummer. Follow us.”

“Where are we going?” Wade asked.

“A safe house,” I said.

“Are you sure it’s safe?”

“I’m not sure about anything,” I said, “except that the Elgen are hunting us and we just got some new cars.”

Wade nodded. “Works for me.”

“We’re trading places,” I said to Zeus, climbing into the front seat of the yellow Hummer.

“No problem,” he said. “I’ll sit next to Tara.”

“Taylor,” Taylor said.

“Sorry,” Zeus said, sliding in next to her. “I keep confusing you with your evil twin.”

“Well, you were with her a lot longer than you were with me.”

Jack was in the driver’s seat checking out the console. I handed him the key.

“Listen to that,” he said, starting it up. “I’ve always wanted to drive one of these bad boys. My brother drove one in Iraq.”

“Cool,” I said.

“It was blown up underneath him by an IED.”

“Not cool,” I said.

“He survived, so it’s even more cool. Where to?”

“The man said they programmed an address into the GPS system.” I looked at the device. “I have no idea how this works. Ostin?”

Ostin leaned forward over the seat. He pushed a few buttons and a map appeared. “There are your coordinates,” he said. “Just follow the arrow.”

“Thanks,” I said. “You good, Jack?”

Jack put the Hummer in gear. “I’m good.”

As we pulled back out onto the street, Jack turned to me and said, “Hope it’s not a trap.”

I leaned back in my seat. “Me too,” I said softly. “Me too.”

A
ccording to the GPS our next destination was 7.3 miles from where we had picked up the cars, a distance we covered in less than fifteen minutes. The safe house was a small, ordinary-looking brick home in an ordinary suburban neighborhood. The yard was manicured enough not to warrant complaints, but simple enough not to warrant attention. The house was dark except for the front porch light.

Jack pulled into the cement driveway on the west side of the house. The drive was narrow but widened in back at the entrance of a two-car garage.

“I’ll wait to pull in,” Jack said. “In case we need to make a quick getaway.”

“Good idea,” I said, trying not to sound nervous. I realized that part of me was waiting for the worst to happen and I was ticking like crazy.

Wade pulled the black Hummer up next to us. In spite of our situation, he was grinning from ear to ear. “This baby is sweet,” he said. “I never thought I’d get to ride in one of these, let alone drive one.”

“I’m going to check things out,” I said to Jack. “If it’s a trap, just get everyone out of here.”

“Warriors don’t leave a man behind,” Jack said.

“What are we doing?” Wade asked.

“Just keep your car running until we’re sure it’s safe,” I said. I turned to Ian. “Can you give me a hand?”

“Sure, man. I’ll give you both of them.”

“It’s your eyes I need.”

“I’ll give you both of those, too.”

The two of us got out of the cars and walked to the edge of the driveway, looking cautiously at the dark house.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“It’s empty,” Ian said. He looked around at the neighbors. “Neighborhood looks legit. A mom helping a kid with homework, a family watching TV, a couple eating dinner.”

“All right, let’s go in.” I rapped on the Hummer, and Jack pulled into the garage, followed by Wade. Everyone gathered in the driveway.

Taylor came up to my side. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You’re ticking a lot.”

“I’m nervous.”

“But the house is okay?”

“It checked out with Ian.”

We walked up to the back of the house, but as I reached for the storm door Ostin said, “Stop!”

I looked over at him.

“What if the door’s booby-trapped? I saw this show where the bad guys had rigged all the doors with plastic explosives, so when the cops opened the door—ka-boom!” Ostin threw his arms out in demonstration. “Everyone’s dead.”

We all just looked at him.

Ostin shrugged. “It was a cool show.”

“I’ll open the door,” Zeus said. He twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open, then stepped inside the dark house. “Hey, McKenna, how about a hand?”

“Sure.” She lit up her hand, then stepped into the house behind him.

“There’s the switch,” Zeus said.

Taylor and I walked in, followed by everyone else. Jack was the last to enter. He still looked anxious and glanced around before shutting and locking the door.

The home’s interior was as ordinary looking as its exterior, which, I suppose, is what a safe house is supposed to look like. I mean, if the place stands out like a zit on your nose, it’s not going to be very safe, right?

We were standing in the kitchen. On the counter was a bulky, brown envelope, and I picked it up and pulled back its flap. It was filled with money.

“Check this out,” I said, holding up the cash. “They left us money.”

“That’s some serious coinage,” Jack said.

“I’ll count it,” Taylor said, taking the envelope from me. She riffled through the bills. “Ten grand,” she said. “Even.”

“That was fast,” I said.

“I’m good at counting.”

I took a handful of bills and put them in my pocket, leaving the rest on the counter.

From the front room Ostin shouted, “Michael, check this out! This is one sweet computer.”

I walked into the other room. I was no expert on computers—I left that to Ostin—but it looked like a serious piece of technology. “Can we use it to get the data out of Grace?” I asked.

“I’m on it,” he replied.

I was glad he had found something to distract him from his parents.

“Is there anything to eat?” Taylor asked. “I’m really hungry.”

“Me too,” Abigail said.

I opened the fridge. It was empty. “Nada.”

“We passed a pizza place about a half mile back,” Jack said. “Wade and I could go pick up something. What kind of pizza do you guys want?”

“Pepperoni and anchovies,” Wade said.

“No anchovies,” Taylor said. “They stink.”

“I second that,” Ostin said. “Who eats anchovies on pizza?”

“Only about a billion Italians,” Wade replied. “And they’re the ones who invented pizza, so they should know how to eat them.”

Getting a history lesson from Wade, especially about food, was more than Ostin could stomach. “In the first place,” Ostin said, standing, “no one knows who invented pizza. In the sixth century, Persian soldiers baked bread flat on their shields and covered it with cheese and dates. So you could argue that they did. Secondly, there are not a billion Italians in the world, not even a hundred million. In Italy there are—”

“Agh!” Wade shouted. “Will someone shove something into his mouth to shut him up?”

“Pizza would do nicely,” Ostin said. “Without anchovies.”

“Just get a bunch of different kinds,” I said to Jack. “There are ten of us. How about three large?”

“I’ll get some drinks, too,” Jack said. “Everyone’s good with cola?”

“I want lemonade,” Taylor said.

“Me too,” said Abigail.

“Diet cola,” McKenna said.

“Write that down,” Jack said to Wade.

Wade looked around. “With what?”

“Then remember it,” Jack said. “All right, I’ll be back. But not too soon. I need to test out the Hummer.”

“Can I come?” Abigail asked.

Jack looked pleasantly surprised. “Sure.”

“Thanks.”

Taylor looked at me and grinned. Jack had told us earlier that he thought Abigail was hot.

“Wade,” Jack said, “you don’t need to come anymore.”

“What?”

“Abi and I can handle it. Just chill here with everyone else.”

“He can come,” Abigail said.

“No,” Jack said. “He doesn’t want to.” He looked at Wade with a threatening glare. “Do you?”

Wade frowned. “Nah, I’ll just chill.”

“Let’s go,” Jack said, opening the door.

“Okay, we’ll be right back,” Abigail said.

After they left I said, “C’mon, Ostin. Let’s start uploading.” I looked at Grace. “Are you okay with that?”

She nodded. “That’s what I do.”

Ostin powered up the computer, then turned to Grace. “So how do you transfer data?”

“First I need to touch a metal part on the computer.” She glanced back at us. “I should sit down. Bringing it up is hard.”

“Hard?” Taylor asked. “In what way?”

“I guess it’s sort of like vomiting,” Grace said.

“Oh,” Taylor said.

Grace put both hands on the computer and began concentrating. Suddenly her eyes rolled back in her head and she began trembling.

“Holy cannoli,” Ostin said. “Look at that.”

Files suddenly began filling the screen. Grace continued until a screen popped up that said
MEMORY FULL
. She groaned, slumping forward.

“You okay?” Taylor asked, taking her by the arm.

She nodded. “Yeah. It just hurt a little.”

“Wow. You filled the computer,” Ostin said. “It has a terabyte of storage. You must have downloaded most of their mainframe.” He looked at me. “We need a bigger computer.”

“We got a lot of it, though, didn’t we?” I asked.

Ostin nodded. “We got a boatload. Let’s see if we can find your mom.” He lifted his hands above the keyboard as if he were a pianist about to start a performance. He typed my mother’s name into the computer’s find function.