Lost Contact (The Bridge Sequence Book One) Nathan Hystad (the reading list book .txt) 📖

2

Richard’s street was quiet. Most of the houses still had their decorations up, seeming quite festive with the snow blanketing their yards and Christmas trees lit inside spacious bay windows. I preferred not to be seen but didn’t have time to waste. With our modified appearances and an unfamiliar vehicle, we could play acquaintances showing up for an evening cocktail, though I was dressed more like a maintenance worker than a contemporary of Richard Klein.

His driveway was empty, and I pulled into it, hopping out. I remembered Tripp’s warning and took the gun from under my seat, checking that the safety was on, and shoved it into my pants under my jacket. I felt too light without the weight of the Tokens, but they were safe with Marcus.

Veronica stared at the house, and I noticed the Christmas lights weren’t turned on. It looked like the home was empty. I walked around the house, using the rear entrance again, and knocked loudly. When no one answered, I rang the bell.

Finally, the lights flicked to life, and I heard footsteps as the door opened. Richard looked tired and possibly drunk.

“Rex! Come inside, it’s freezing out there,” he said.

“If you think this is cold…” I didn’t finish. I went first, scoping out the interior, and only then did I step aside to permit Veronica entrance.

“Where have you been? I’ve tried calling you.”

I appraised his disheveled appearance and struggled to understand why he was so unlike the usual version of himself. “What happened to you?”

He stared at the ground. “Janelle left.”

“Really?” I asked. Was this what he’d wanted to talk about? I found myself relaxing as we entered the home, and suddenly, I felt foolish for carrying a gun.

“She went after Christmas, to her sister’s in Rhode Island. Said she needed space, but we both knew this was coming for some time.”

“I’m sorry.” I patted his arm, and he ran a hand over his face. He smelled like an ashtray, and I caught a whiff of whiskey. “Are you holding up okay?”

Richard’s gaze shifted to Veronica, and he straightened up. “Who’s this lovely lady?”

“Veronica,” I told him.

“Are you two…?” Richard asked. The question seemed so out of the norm for my mentor that it caught me off-guard.

“Do you need me to call anyone? Have you eaten?” I went farther into his house, and saw the lights were mostly off. A few dishes sat in the sink, but otherwise, it looked commonplace.

“I could use a drink,” he said, moving toward his bar. I glanced at the living room and hit the light switch. A man stood across the room, watching us. I recognized him from the party, and my gaze instantly ran to the cuff of his shirt, where I’d seen the Believers’ tattoo that night.

“What have you done?” My words were a sharp whisper.

Richard poured himself a drink, spilling more than landed in the glass. “You have to understand. They took my family, Rex. Janelle and the kids… if I cooperate, they’ll be safely returned. It was you or them, and frankly, an easy choice. You don’t listen to me. You haven’t taken my advice or stopped these foolish trips you keep making. Your father is dead, and these bastards aren’t to be trifled with.” He took a long drink and slammed the glass onto a bookshelf. Veronica had stayed frozen, nearly making me forget she was with me.

“Mr. Walker, I think you have something that belongs to us,” the bald man said. He held a gun, and it wasn’t pointed at me. It was aimed directly at Veronica.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said glibly.

“Don’t mess with me, Walker. We’re aware you have the Bridge. You’ll hand it over this instant, or she dies.” He said it with little inflection. His gaze was harsh, and his expression all business.

I glanced at Richard, but he was looking away, unable to bring himself to witness our deaths. “You don’t work for them?”

“I hadn’t heard of them until your father brought me in. Even then, I only met a Believer a couple of months ago. Whatever you did down in Guatemala really sparked their interest. They came the next week, threatening me. I went to the police; can you believe it? Whoever these guys are, they have the department on the take. I was ushered out so quickly... I thought about contacting the FBI, but…” Richard gazed at the bald man and shook his head. “They had my number. Told me to play ball or they’d kill my son Henry first.” He picked up a picture frame of a family trip to Yosemite. I remembered him telling me how much fun they’d had on the vacation.

The report of the gunshot surprised me, and I jumped as Richard clutched his stomach. The gun fired again, striking him in the chest, and he tried speaking. Blood gurgled out as he slumped to the hardwood.

“Mr. Walker, I’m losing patience. Where is the Bridge?” the man asked as the back door opened. It sounded like two more people entered, but I didn’t check to confirm. Veronica reached out, taking my hand, and I squeezed it, wishing I could reassure her, but I sensed our finality. The Believers wouldn’t give up, not with the Objects’ imminent arrival to Earth. Their entire organization would be activated, with a lot of their efforts centered on making sure the Bridge wasn’t used. That was what this was all about. I was desperate, so I did the only thing I thought that might work.

“It’s not here,” I said. “We split them up. Veronica’s hidden hers, and I stowed the rest.” It was a bold lie, one that would probably be easy to see through, but could they take the chance?

The bald cult member finally broke his stoic expression and marched toward me. His hand struck out, slapping me across the cheek. “Where are they?” He pointed the gun at me, shaking slightly.

“I told