Shadows of Mars (Broken Stars Book 1) I.O. Adler (read people like a book TXT) 📖

didn’t have a Sunday place. At least she and her mom didn’t. Carmen had left home after graduating high school. Before marriage, Jenna had been alone with Mom. She had almost withered on the vine for lack of parental attention, with their father newly back and out of recovery but soon out of the house after the divorce, and Mom spending most of her time working at the Johnson Space Center in Texas.

Carmen had kept in daily contact with Jenna. And when Mom was back on the weekends, she would smother Carmen’s little sister and try to occupy her every waking hour. Going for drives. Outings to any museum, music show, and festival within driving distance. Sunday breakfast.

But Jenna had gathered a strong circle of friends, even if it had been the Jesus crowd at school.

Mom wasn’t pleased. While Dad had taken them to church when they were young, that ended after the first time he had left them. Mom had thought Jenna’s faith an infatuation. Jenna had related to Carmen the heated argument they had when Jenna tried to take Mom to Sunday church instead of one of their outings.

The Bumbleberry had been a coffee shop attached to a truck stop gas station just off 101 on the north edge of Garden Village. The old-school discount-breakfast 24-hour-a-day café had become a seedy place in its last years and had finally been shuttered. The For Lease sign had been up ever since.

The last time Mom and Jenna could have gone there was over four years ago. After that Mom had departed for training, and then came the mission. And the disaster.

Who would even know about Jenna and Mom going out for breakfast on Sunday?

The thought that someone had so much detail on any of their lives chilled Carmen. As she approached the freeway, she knew she should cross under the overpass and head south. But instead she gunned the accelerator and merged into the middling traffic heading north.

North towards the old gas station and coffee shop.

Chapter Six

Jenna’s hybrid was parked beneath one of the metal canopies. The pumps were long gone with only the concrete islands remaining. The gas station and restaurant were boarded up and the walls covered in graffiti. The old Bumbleberry sign still stood above it all, but the plastic and glass had mostly broken away, leaving a weather-bleached shadow of the logo.

Carmen pulled up behind Jenna’s car and got out.

The noise from the freeway carried across nearby pastures but the old property felt secluded. High walls of oleander and eucalyptus walled the lot off. The asphalt was cracked and choked with weeds. A playground lay behind the building, a feature Carmen didn’t remember.

This hadn’t been her place. She only recalled going there a few times when her parents were still together. Even back then the restaurant had felt old, frequented by the numerous retirees living in the nearby trailer parks on the north side of Garden Village.

But this had become her mother and Jenna’s special Sunday destination after Carmen had left home. Any lingering resentment she had about this evaporated with the grim thought that someone had drawn both her and Jenna there. And Jenna was nowhere to be seen.

With the car door still open, Carmen leaned on the horn. “Jenna!”

No one answered. Had her sister actually gone inside?

She went to Jenna’s car. Touched the hood. Warm. She wasn’t inside the car.

A blue truck drove down the dead-end road and turned in towards her. Peter sat behind the wheel. He pulled up next to her and got out.

She marched around the front of his truck. “What are you doing here?”

“I followed you and was going to ask you the same thing. What were you talking about before you ran off? That’s Jenna’s car. What’s going on?”

“If you’re not the one messing with us, then it’s none of your business.”

“It is my business. I’m on the Peace Patrol. And if you’re in trouble, I want to help.”

“Whatever. Right now I need to find Jenna.”

She walked around the restaurant, looking for any open doors or windows. But the boards were all intact. Quite a few had black mold and the pressboard was swollen and separating. Only slivers of paint remained on the original siding. Rain gutters sagged. Accumulations of trash and tree debris sat in heaps in the front doorway. The domed black roof appeared intact, perhaps holding the rest of the structure up.

Peter had fallen in behind her and kept talking but she couldn’t follow the words.

Wisteria grew thick with purple blossoms along a wood fence near what had once been the outdoor eating area. She peered through the slats. A few wood picnic tables remained, gray and worn from the weather. But the gate had a chain holding it closed.

The outside dining area led to the playground. Here a chain fence replaced the old wood. It stood on concrete blocks and looked temporary. Food wrappers clung to the metal wire between the No Trespassing signs.

A climbing gym and a slide appeared ready to collapse at the next stiff breeze. A swing dangled on a single chain and its seat was broken. But a section of fence lay curled upward.

“Jenna?” she called.

Peter leaned in to look. “You can’t go in there. Let me check.”

“Get out of my way.”

She ducked past him and squeezed through the gap. While the property was large, this was the only place Jenna could have gone. The alternative, that her sister had been abducted, lingered at the edge of her mind. But Carmen had no choice but to check inside before pursuing that line of thought.

A quick search of the playground confirmed it was vacant.

Carmen called out again as she pushed vines aside to get to the back patio. Garden Village had its share of junkies and homeless people