Outer Banks (6 page)

“I think I see the person I need to talk to right now.” I looked up to see a woman flanked by men in blue uniforms walking into the hospital. She stopped by the information desk and the clerk pointed to me. “I gotta go. I'll call you back.”

“Sure. Uh, says here the form you need is a CCL-DCM.”

“Got it.” I hung up and looked at the woman walking toward me.

She was wearing what looked like a cocktail dress. Red sequins sparkled as she walked on the highest heels I'd ever seen a woman wear. She moved as comfortably in them as I did in my scuffed up work boots. Her mocha skin glowed and her white teeth sparkled as she smiled at me. What she was doing with these soldiers was anyone's guess.

“Excuse me, are you the person who found the live exomorph?” she asked.

“The big Bug? Yes.”

“I'm Colonel Michaela Arder. AFMS, Biomedical Sciences Corp.” All I heard was the word colonel and knew she was very important. I fought the instinct to salute her.

“Dillon McAllister.” I shook her outstretched hand, thinking my name sounded kind of insignificant.

“If you don't mind, I have a few questions.”

“I figured. And apparently I need a form CCL-DCM to fill out.”

“So you're a Hunter?”

“Right.”

“Bit off more than you could chew on this one, huh?”

“You could say that.” I smirked as she pulled out a cell phone and texted someone.

“First, let's get you checked out.”

“I'm fine, really. Just a little shaken up.”

“Then it won't take long.” She nodded down the hall and I followed her into an exam room. A nurse came in and they spoke in medical lingo for a while. The nurse handed her a white coat.

“You're a doctor?” I asked, causing one side of her lips to pull up.

“That's right.”

She took a blood sample. The fact my blood was still red seemed to be enough to make her smile.

“Do you dress like this for work every day?” I asked.

She smiled again before she answered.

“I was at a party when I got the call.”

“Pretty quick response time.”

“I have a jet at my disposal. It's one of the perks of being the acting Chief Medical Officer of the US Air Force.”

“One of the perks, huh? Well, la-dee-da,” I muttered that last part more to myself, making her laugh. She was checking me over with a little more than just medical interest. It helped me relax, having that extra bit of normalcy.

After she took my blood pressure and gave me a once over, the nurse was dismissed so we could talk privately.

“So. What happened?” she asked.

I spent the next hour being debriefed. I explained how the Haunts seemed to be connected to the queen, though I only had Bobby's word on that. I explained how I got away and how the other Haunt died in my van, presumably when the queen was killed.

“I thought they couldn't do that,” I said when I'd finished. “I thought that was one of the reasons they gave up. Because they couldn't get into our head and control us.” At least that's what the eggheads on TV had said. But they had also said none of the Bugs were left alive on Earth too.

“I'm afraid I can't comment on that. But I remind you this information of yours is classified. It goes nowhere outside of this room.”

I leaned in closer and tilted my head giving her my best grin. “Yes. I understand, but come on. Between you and me. This kind of information might keep me alive if I come across any similar situations. That helps you out as well, right?”

She sighed and looked back at the door before deciding whether or not to share. I watched her pupils dilate and knew I was in.

“As you know, the Bugs were controlled by their queens.”

“Yes.” I knew that much from TV.

“We figured there were a dozen or more on each ship. No way to be certain. Most of them stayed onboard, but some came down during the harvest. And while the drones didn't have the ability to control us, it appears the queens might be able to.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “And we really have no idea who was controlling the queens.”

“Wait, they weren't in charge?” I swallowed. It didn't seem possible.

“These Bugs aren't advanced enough to work out an invasion plan capable of taking down a civilization, let alone build FTL capable ships. They were shock troops, disposable and easily bred. Something smarter had to be calling the shots.”

I shivered from the thought. “So how did she end up surviving here so long? Why didn't she die like the others?”

“We don't know, but we're going to look into it. At this point we can only assume the queens are autonomous.”

I asked the most important question. “Is she dead?”

“I'm afraid that's classified,” she said. I wasn't sure I liked that answer. “Why don't we get out of here? I'm guessing you could use a drink and I got pulled out of a party. You owe me some fun, and I bet you'd rather continue this someplace more comfortable than a hospital.”

“Okay.” I wasn't quite ready to be alone with my thoughts.

A man in fatigues and a bright blue beret came to meet us as we left, handing me the forms I needed to fax to Ray.

“Do I assume you're keeping this quiet?” I asked as we walked toward the exit.

“That would be impossible. People saw the helicopters. The farmer across the field saw it and hit the internet. Word's already out. Just don't mention it was a queen yet.” She sighed. “Besides, there's no threat, everything is fine.” She said it like more a mantra than the actual truth. “I'm more worried about the misinformation that's about to hit the fan. The press are already out there.”

It was going on midnight as we walked outside. A crowd of people was waiting by the automated doors.

“Mr. McAllister, is it true you encountered a live Bug at the chemical plant this evening?”

“How did you escape its grasp?”

“Did it bite you?”

“Are there others?”

“Is it true that Haunts are turning into Bugs now?”

“Was it half-Haunt, half-Bug?”

I blinked from the flash and the lights of the video cameras as they continued to pepper me with questions.

The guards at the doors made sure the reporters couldn't get too close. I put up my hands. They quieted for a moment to allow me to answer.

“Yes, there was a Bug, but there is no longer a threat. There was nothing to indicate it was a hybrid or that it had once been human. Just a lone survivor from the invasion.” It seemed to be a safe comment. “I'm sure you'll be getting more details from Dr. Arder and her team when they're available.”

Of course, that didn't satisfy them. They wanted details, and I wanted to get the hell out of there. I pushed through the throng of reporters and helped the doctor into my van.

She made a phone call while I drove to the next town in an effort to get away from my paparazzi. We were followed by her escort.

Most of her conversation consisted of yes and no. Occasionally she would glance over at me and say, “I'll have to get back to you on that.” Which I translated to mean, “I can't talk about it.”

I found a nicer hotel with a lounge. After taking care of the room so I had a place to crash, I led Michaela to the lounge area.

The place was deserted as hotel bars often were. The only other patrons were two business-looking men at the one end of the bar. We sat at the other end. Her escort kept themselves at a discreet distance.

The bartender gave us a second glance, no doubt curious as to why a woman dressed in a cocktail gown would be associating with a guy in a dirty sweatshirt and ruffled hair.

The bartender gave us a nod and I turned to Michaela to order first.

“Line 'em up. Tequila, please.”

Okay, so it was going to be that kind of night.

“Bourbon,” I gave the bartender a smile and tried to pat down my hair, seeing the mess it was in the mirror.

“What did you mean when you said you were the
acting
Chief Medical Officer?” I asked. There had been something in her tone when she said it.

She sighed and frowned.

“It means that after my superior, General Roberts was killed in an accident experimenting on a live Bug, I was next in line for the position. It's just not official yet.” It had been a year and it wasn't official? That was some slow bureaucracy. Or was she referring to something more recent?

“Thrown to the wolves?”

“More or less. Did you have any clue this wasn't a regular recovery when you got there?” she asked.

Apparently the doctor wasn't done debriefing me.

As the bartender poured her shots, I explained the reports of drained livestock. It seemed like way too much for even a group of Haunts. I couldn't help but snicker when I mentioned the llama, though I didn't know why I still found that funny.

“But no fluid replacement? Huh. Still, we should check the animal corpses. The queen must have been desperate for food. So your colleague said he could hear it in his head?” She leaned forward with interest.

“Yes. He told me to get away. He said she was hungry and he would take me to her. He said he wouldn't be able to stop himself.”

“But he
didn't
take you to her,” she mentioned. “He was able to think clearly.”

“Right. It seemed like he was fighting it.”

She licked the salt from her hand, shot back the tequila and sucked the lemon wedge. She winced either from the drink or the sour lemon.

“Here's to fighting it,” she said with a wink.

Chapter Six

The informal interrogation continued. “Did it seem to be a proximity thing?”

“Possibly.” I took a sip of my bourbon. “He didn't say. I started to pull him away and that's when she attacked.”

She chuckled. “And that's when you pulled out your flare gun,” she remembered from the initial debriefing. “Why did you take a flare gun?”

I couldn't help but laugh. “It was in that stupid vest I was issued. Originally I thought it was dumb too, but it saved my life. Now I feel like I should have one everywhere I go.”

“To flare guns!” she said as she repeated the tequila ritual.

I laughed and she smiled at me. Not just a smile about the flare gun. I knew what that smile meant.

I drained my glass as she did another shot and changed the subject back to my encounter.

“It sounds like your friend was in pain, the way he was clutching at his head. I wonder if the pain was being caused by the queen?” She tapped the bar to get the bartender's attention. Was she really not done? “Three more and can I also get a vodka tonic?” Mixing? Shit. She must have had a lousy day.

“I'm not exactly sure. I didn't have a chance to ask a lot of questions.”

“You think the queen killed him without touching him?” She looked out the window.

“Maybe. Could have been a bad reaction to the change. Who knows?”

“And the man in your van?”

“He was still very much alive when I drove away from the plant. He was screaming and kicking the whole way, until…”

“Until…?”

“Until after the helicopters flew in, and then about a minute later he became silent. Abruptly. I just assumed the queen was dead and there was a connection.” When she wasn't forthcoming with a confirmation I changed tack. “Have they found others?” I asked. “Was this the first one?”

“First one what…?” Another shot, followed by a long sip of her vodka. I was quite impressed by her stamina. She wasn't even slurring her words yet.

“First pit with queen in it. I mean it could only be queens right? All the drones died.”

“Because they were most likely connected to a queen on the ship, and like Bobby, when the queens lost control of their subjects, they died.”

“I notice you didn't answer my first question. You are a tricky government type person, aren't you?” I wiggled my index finger at her and took a drink. I was flirting. Why? This wasn't going anywhere. Normally I would be all over this, but I was about to abduct someone.
Knock it off, Dillon!

“I heard back from our team at the pit before we met. They said it was filled with over a thousand unfertilized eggs.”

“Shit,” I said, not knowing how else to respond to something as horrible as that. “You still didn't answer the question, have they found others?”

“We
may
have found another nest that also contained unfertilized eggs. But that's the important word—unfertilized. If they had been fertilized, who knows what might have happened.” She sighed. “That's why I'm telling you these things. You might encounter another hive. If you do, you need to know what we know. Well, you need to know more anyway.”

“You already knew about the mind control before, didn't you?”

She nodded. “We've encountered Haunts who remember being connected mentally with the Bugs during the attack. Not many, but enough to worry.” That would explain why Emery's clearance got revoked and she was put into general population. I guess it was a valid concern.

“What about the urge to crawl out of the ground? I've heard Haunts say it was more of a compulsion than conscious thought. Like the hunger. Like they didn't have a choice. Is that part of it?”

“Adrenalin and survival instincts can cause humans to do strange and amazing things. But you're right, it could have been part of the mind control. A start-up program, maybe.”

“What about their strange sleep cycle? Do you think that's part of the mind control?”

“No,” she said so quickly there had to be more.

I waved the bartender over to get Michaela another drink. It seemed she had more to share if only I could get her relaxed enough to trust me.

“So why do they wake up at the same time every night? Right after the sun sets? No matter where they are. I've taken Haunts from Oregon to North Carolina and they still get up after the sun sets. What is that about?” I pressed.

She leaned closer to me. “Remember when they left?”

“Sorry. Must have slept through it.” I said with a smirk.

“They didn't leave.”

“What?” I said loud enough to make the guards look over. “What are you talking about?”

“They held back around lunar orbit for a while, observing, and then…”

“Then what?” I asked after she'd taken another sip.

“They set up beacons orbiting Earth at the Lagrange points.”

“You're kidding!”

“Not even a little.”

“Why hasn't anyone said anything?”

Her tilt of the head said it all—Need to know. Top secret. National security.

“What do these beacons do?”

“We're not completely sure. We think they're solar powered. They draw in energy during the day then when they move out of range of the sun they send out a burst. This pulse happens around the same time the Haunts wake up. We think it's like a starter signal or something.”

“Is this what is messing up our electronics?”

“Oh, yeah.” She nodded.

“Why would they do that?”

“No clue. Personally, I think it's an ongoing experiment to see if we ever assimilate or become useful. They were busy in those ships during the day, we saw the energy scans. Who knows? They're probably out there somewhere collecting data right now.”

“Why don't we blow up these beacon things?”

“We plan to eventually, but it'll be months before we have missiles ready for that. Maybe a year. But the thing is, we don't know what would happen to the Haunts.” She frowned. “They might never wake up again.”

Michaela leaned in even closer. She seemed like she'd be willing to continue this conversation in my room, and I certainly wouldn't have minded, but her escorts made it pretty clear that wasn't going to happen. Those lips were getting so loose they bordered on a national security risk.

In the end they drove her back to wherever, her jet presumably, while I spent a fitful night alone in the hotel thinking about everything she'd told me.

“Hell,” I said. It was like we couldn't catch a break. The more we learned about the Haunts, the more screwed they seemed to be.

“Good morning, Mr. Big Shot Celebrity!” Ray greeted me on the phone with a laugh.

“What are you talking about?”

“You're on the news.”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” I mumbled as I started to get up. I began to worry about how this was going to impede my chances of breaking Emery out of the Outer Banks. I did not need this kind of attention.

“Did you get the forms?” he asked.

“Yes! I got the damn forms.” I said bitterly, partly from the hangover kicking in. “You know people died last night, right? Someone you knew. Bobby! Dead!”

“Yeah. I know. There's nothing I can do about it now, though. Neither can you.”

I sighed. “I'll fax them to you in an hour. Can you e-mail me a new file?”

“You're ready to go out again already?”

“Yeah.” I was definitely
not
ready to go back out. I would have loved to go home for a few weeks and work on a car so I wouldn't have to deal with any of this. But that wouldn't get Emery Mitchell out of detainment.

“I wish I had an easy one for you but I don't. I think those days are coming to an end. Anybody who's made it this long is going to be tough.”

“What do you have?”

“I've got a guy in Virginia. He has broken into three clinics with a gun and fled with blood each time. They are expecting him to be out of food and try again soon.”

“A gun?” I sighed and rubbed my face. I did not need that.

“Maybe you should take a few days,” Ray suggested, surprising me. It was possible he did have a shred of compassion. “I just heard from Donna. She's in the area, but she's already got someone.”

I closed my eyes. Donna was a former bounty hunter. She could handle it, but I had a job to do. Time was of the essence. “No. I'll do it. Send me the file.”

I did my exercises, took a shower and got dressed in an attempt to start my day like normal. When I went down to the desk to fax the forms to Ray the news was on in the lobby. I could feel my face turn red when I saw the footage of myself at the hospital, along with the hyped up media frenzy. They'd blow into at least three days of analysis, no doubt.

I kept my head down on the way back to my room even though I didn't pass anyone, just being cautious.

I read over the file Ray had emailed and marked the Haunt's other robberies on a map. It looked like he was heading southwest. Fredericksburg, Charlottesville, Lynchburg. I figured his next robbery would be in Roanoke. I looked at my watch. I could make it by nightfall.

I called the police and asked for their assistance. They seemed to be pleased to stop an actual assailant with a gun, regardless of where he would end up when he was caught.

It turned out they were even better at their job than I thought. By the time I was in town they'd already caught him, and were all too willing to turn him over. It meant a bounty split, but I was fine with that.

The police loaded him in my van and after examining the box thoroughly to make sure it would hold the kicking, screaming man inside they gave me a nod and my paperwork.

Finally, something had gone right. I smiled to myself as I headed east.

This Haunt would not be put into general population at OBX. He would go into a holding cell until he could be held for trial as a normal prisoner. I would be paid a premium for his capture—not as much as the queen, mind you—but it would make Ray happy when he got his commission.

After a two day drive with my passenger bitching and moaning in the back, I finally stopped at a motel. The clerk at the front desk looked at me oddly—probably trying to place me.

I was only a few hours from OBX so I took my time getting ready when I woke at four.

The motel had a gym, so I took advantage of the treadmill. I also made sure to shave after my shower. I couldn't help feeling like this was a date of some sort. It wasn't. Emery Mitchell was not going to like me when we met, shaved or not.

With that thought, I pulled out my phone and the business card Mr. Mitchell had given me. After a few deep breaths, I dialed the number. No turning back now.

“Hello?” he answered on the second ring.

“Mr. Mitchell? This is Dillon. I'm ready.”

“Good. I saw you on the news. It looked like you've had your hands full. This won't complicate matters, will it?”

We were both being careful about what we said. Never knew who might be listening. “I don't think so. I'm going in tonight.”

I could hear him breathing on the other end but nothing else.

“Thank you, Dillon,” he said before he returned to business mode. “The guard you need to speak with is Rick Evans. He can show you where you need to go. He's not willing to assist in any way other than providing information and looking the other way, however.”

“That's fine. He's trustworthy?”

“Very.”

“I'll keep you posted. Don't be surprised if you don't hear anything until tomorrow night.”

“I'll try to be patient,” he sniffed. I could tell patience wasn't his strong suit. “You know where to go once you leave?”

“I do.” He'd arranged for us to use a cabin near Olancha, California, which had been retrofitted into a lab.

“I'll meet you there when you arrive. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” I hung up and rubbed my face, feeling like I needed more than luck.

I stopped for gas and coffee before going across the bridge to the Outer Banks, wanting to be alert and fueled up for the big escape.

I turned the radio off as I neared the first gate. Brian and the new guy were there again.

“Hey, Dillon. How's it going?”

“Good. I have one for Holding.”

They could hear the racket from the back of the van. “Wow. A wild one, huh?” He chuckled.

“Yes. Very.”

“Saw you on the news.”

“Yeah. Not my best day.” I frowned.

He handed my papers back and opened the gate. The next gate was just as easy.

At the final gate one of the guards jumped in the passenger's seat and I had to wait for a car to show up to escort us to Holding.

“A Bug, huh?” The guard asked, having recognized me.

“Yeah. Big one.”

“I saw one up close too. It was coming for me when it got hit with the lights and taken out with an RPG. I could be one of these people,” he said quietly.

“We all could have ended up like these people,” I said as we pulled up to the prison. Detainment within detainment.

The guards did all the work of offloading my passenger. They filled out my documents and showed me where I could go clean out my safe box. He'd left a bit of a mess.

I was right on schedule. Which could only mean things were about to go wrong.