Killswitch (4 page)

“You got lucky.” Switchblade's deep voice lifted above the others. “Now tell me this—who's arranging that meeting? All the up-top believers from Herouxville are in a government transport. And they don't lie as fast as you do, Charlie.”

“Despite the misleading information, God has gotten our people out of a mess,” Amos clapped his hands together. “And God will get them back safely.”

What? God hadn't hacked the system and lied his way out of this situation.

“Switchblade has a point,” Chase said.

“I'm glad you see that.” Switchblade puffed out his chest. “They gotta come underground. And never go back up.”

6

Chase monitored the communication trails as the transport took the narrow road back to town. Did these people realize what he'd done? Most of them were off to one side now, praying or something. Thanking God.

But that's why Chase was here—the dreams, the words from his dad. This
was
God's idea. Wasn't it? What did he expect? A pat on the back?

He hated siding with Switchblade, but the guy was right. Molly and others weren't safe staying in town. They had to disappear.

Amos held out his hand. “We're grateful to you, Chase. What you did today was tremendous.”

Chase took the man's hand. A spark rushed through him. “Uh, thank you, Amos. Are you feeling all right?”

“Little tired, but that's nothing new. Right now I'm more relieved than anything. Why do you ask?”

“It's nothing. I'm relieved too.”

Mel interrupted. “The transport just dropped off our group a block from here. The Feds are watching, so we're sending a messenger. They'll be directed to go to Kirel's apartment for a meeting.” She sat at the work station next to Chase. “Can you get the Feds to leave once we've got the group inside?”

“I'll send instructions to pursue a group belonging to the Dissenters of the Republic headed south to bomb a WR base.”

“More stories,” Mel said. “Did somebody at Helgen program all this creativity?”

“It's not a story. The dissenters are going to bomb a base near the border—what used to be the border—at the north end of New Hampshire.”

“You know what's going on with that group?”

“I was looking for a bone to dangle and up popped this chatter. I'm intercepting data from all over.” Chase swiped his fingers through his hair. “It's a little overwhelming.”

“OK, boss, take it easy. I don't know why, or how, this is working. We'll figure it out later. Right now, just go with it.”

“Who's your messenger? Who's going up?”

“Switchblade. When there's a need to send someone up, he jumps at it.” She lifted her brow and grinned. “Being in a cave makes him…unruly.”

Cameras in town made easy work of verifying the five were on their way to the meeting place. Switchblade dropped the word and disappeared before the Feds even noticed. Chase instructed the exoself to send the call for federal back-up to move south. The five were inside the old brick building just a few minutes before the deputies got back in their transports and headed out of town.

“It's done. With any luck, the leak in communication won't stop that bomb,” Chase said.

“It'll be a blessing if the bombing is thwarted. Lives will be saved,” Amos responded.

“I don't get it.” Chase turned his chair to face Amos. “First, you say to die is gain. Whatever that means. And then you want to rescue the bad guys?”

“They're misguided. They can find the better way. God willing.”

These people really were odd. Chase needed to talk to Mel in private. Besides asking a few questions about the confusing methods and messages of the Underground Church, he had to tell her about Amos. No doubt after that handshake; the man was sick.

But that didn't explain his blasted contradictions. “Amos, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“The people in the Underground and the ones up top—you talk about them like you're fine with letting them get killed. Like they're expendable.” Chase leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “But other people, like the Dissenters of the Republic, you want to keep from harm. To save them. I don't get it.”

“Seems like foolishness, right?”

“Yeah, it does. But I know you're not a fool.”

“I'm not
fine
with our people being killed, Chase, but we're fighting for something greater than ourselves. And they've freely given their lives—both physically and spiritually—to Christ. Don't misunderstand; we all grieve the loss, but we know we're moving on to be with the Lord when we die. But the lost ones are in danger of…”

“Of what?”

Chase's mom spoke from behind him as she rested her hands on his shoulders. “Sorry to interrupt. Molly and the others are here.”

Chase leapt from the chair and headed for the stairs. He reached Molly within seconds and put his arms around her. The old woman shook and Chase patted her on the back. “A little too much adventure for you?” he asked.

“Much too much,” Molly whispered.

He pulled back. “I'm so glad you're all right.”

“I hear I have you to thank. Switchblade says you worked that exoself and got us out.”

Chase glanced at Switchblade, who wasted no time in looking away.

“It's wonderful to see those sweet blue eyes of yours again,” Molly said. “I didn't know for sure that you'd made it to the underground.” She rubbed Chase's chin. “A couple of days thickened that beard. Looks good.”

“I'm sorry you're stuck here. You can't go home, you know.”

“Bound to happen sooner or later. But now we have no one up top to help with supplies.”

Amos approached and offered Molly a hug. “The Lord will provide. He always does.”

“Yes,” she said. “Always.”

Amos greeted the other new residents of the underground. The younger ones—the twins and the girl—would be missed by frantic families up top.

“Molly, did anyone say anything to those deputies about the underground?” Chase asked. “Do you think they have any clue there is a base of operations here in Herouxville?”

“I don't believe so.” She surveyed the others gathered around her, and they all expressed the same. “We were very careful about what we said, and only answered direct questions. Even then…” She tilted her head and blushed a little. “I mean, we didn't exactly tell them the truth.”

Chase smiled. He wasn't the only one who knew how to lie, after all. “But you all told the same story, right? No contradictions?”

“We were never split up, so no discrepancies.”

Amos put his arm around Molly, guided her toward the hallway, and motioned the other four to follow. “I think a debriefing is called for. We'll find out just what the WR knows about us after today's close call. Chase, you can join us if you want. Or I can fill you in later.”

“I'll stay here and monitor activity up top. And I need to go over some things with Mel. We'll talk later.”

Amos continued down the hall.

Chase spotted Mel in the far corner of the command center. Her hands covered her cheeks.

And Switchblade's hands circled her waist.

7

Chase retreated to his private quarters. An hour would be enough time for Mel to finish her business, or whatever it was, with Switchblade. He hadn't listened to their conversation. He'd give the people in this close environment their privacy by keeping the hearing enhancer off.

He should've listened. What was going on between the two of them? Mel had only been here a few weeks.

“I thought there was something between us,” he said to no one. “Fool.” He finished running the audio files from the deputies who'd come and gone. Seemed the crisis was over. He left for the command center.

Mel appeared in the hall, headed in his direction. Her hands were at her side, her eyes on him. “Where'd you go, boss? I wanted to talk to you.”

Did she think he didn't know what was going on? It didn't take a transhuman to figure
that
out.

She threw her arms around his neck.

Chase held her close. Her hair smelled like lilacs. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said. “I'm just so relieved.”

“Can we just go somewhere and talk for a while? About something besides computer code and Bible riddles and where the next shipment of dried beans is coming from? Please, Melody.”

She laughed, and the sweet sound lifted Chase's spirit. “Did you find us some beans?” she asked. “We're running out of vegetables.”

“They're ready for pick up but we've lost our contacts up top.” Chase took her hand and pulled her toward his room. “I'm sure we can work it out. Right now, I want to talk to you. I've been here for two days and we haven't had a chance to be alone.”

“Everything in the underground is so important,” she said as he opened the door to his small room, which contained nothing but a single bed, a small table with a lamp, and one chair. “I feel like I'm always running, when all I'm doing is sitting at a computer station.”

Chase entered behind her and shut the narrow door.

“Leave the door cracked. Protocol.”

“Come on—we're not teenagers.”

“But there are teenagers here. A few more of them than we had this morning. We set a good example by not doing anything that might appear inappropriate.”

Somehow that was a relief. Switchblade would have to live by the same silly rule. Chase pulled the door open. Mel sat on the edge of the unmade bed. Chase dropped to the floor in front of her.

He sank into her deep brown eyes. His one true friend. All the years at Synvue, during his relationship with Kerstin, spending time with Mel had always been his favorite part of day. Only days before he'd gotten a hole blown through him did he realize there might be something more than friendship.

He never got the chance to find out. Until now.

“What's going on between you and that thug you call Switch?”

“What?” She shot off the bed

Chase got up from the floor and took her hands in his.

“I'm sorry. You seemed so glad to see me the other night and I thought…” He let her go and put his hands on his hips. “It's none of my business. I'm sorry.”

“You're right.” Her lips made a firm line and her right brow lifted.

“You can start up a relationship with whomever you choose. I have no business questioning you about it.”

“No. You're right about me being glad to see you. I prayed for months but I didn't know if you'd ever show up. I don't have feelings for Switchblade.”

Chase reached for her. But the voices from somewhere down the hall stopped him. He turned his back to her and pulled on the door knob.

“What is it?” Mel asked.

“I turned on the hearing enhancer so we wouldn't be surprised by passers-by. Amos is on a VPad with someone and he's not too happy. Something to do with that device we saw at the detention center.”

“We'd better go see what's up.”

He faced her and eased his arms around her. “We need to talk, Melody. About a lot of things.”

“We will.” She pulled him close and kissed him softly on the lips. “That, by the way, is an infraction. No overt displays of affection among singles in the underground.”

“What's the punishment?” He returned the kiss, making this one last a bit longer.

“No punishment. Just encouragement from the other residents.”

“That's odd. What sort of encouragement?”

She smiled wide and her eyes sparkled. “Oh, you don't want to find out. Better not tell anybody about this.”

Chase smiled and touched the dimple in her cheek. “Meet me back here later tonight?”

“To talk?”

“Yes. To talk.”

He pulled her into the hallway and then let her go before anyone saw them. But he couldn't get the smile to leave his face. A few minutes with Amos might take care of that.

“It's time for lunch,” Mel said. “And time for you to stop ordering room service and join us.”

8

Chase and Mel sat at a table with several others in the compound's dining hall. Amos watched from a corner of the square room. A few people filled plates and set them out on a counter that separated the area with twenty rectangular tables from the kitchen.

Several children sat together on a blanket spread on the floor in a corner of the room. Their own little picnic. A woman bent near the little party and split open a couple of oranges, laying them on the blanket for the kids to share. When she rose, she rested her hands on her round stomach. There'd soon be another child in the underground. When the time came, who'd deliver the baby?

Molly sat beside Chase. Mom sat across from them.

“Birdie, your boy is here at last. Your faith was rewarded,” Molly said.

“Yes. May our faith carry us through these perilous times.” Her soft gray hair framed her face. She looked older—it'd been too long since Chase last visited his mother. But her blue eyes still glowed with vibrant energy.

“Mom, I overheard some things. Do you know what's going on?”

“You know more than I do, son.” She accepted a plate handed to her by a young man. Lunch consisted of a dried hunk of some type of meat, an orange, and slice of white bread. Chase took his plate and picked up the meat.

“We pray first,” Mom said.

“Sorry.” He dropped the cold, hard meat as others got their plates. Ten minutes passed before everyone had been served. Then the servers served each other. What a waste of time. Amos was served. Then he got up and served the one who'd served him. At last, everybody had a plate.

“Bow your heads,” Amos instructed. “Lord in Heaven, be with us here under the earth. Bless the ones above. Multiply our number while the time allows. Bless this food. We receive it as a gift from Your sovereign hands. You are our sustenance. In the name of Christ. Amen.”