The Trigger (10 page)

“We don’t have more time.” His brother lowered his voice even more. “Once the trigger happens, we’ll end up cutting off access. And you know I need a lover, someone to have children with.”

“But I’m not sure I trust Sonja.”

Spencer scowled. “Why not?”

“She looks like Lisa.”

“So?”

“Doesn’t that seem like a coincidence?”

“What the hell are you saying?” Spencer squinted, a familiar sign of anger.

“I’m not sure. What if she’s a plant? A federal agent looking for Emma or maybe to bust us for growing pot? Not to mention, all the illegal weapons.”

“Oh, Christ.” Disgust filled his brother’s face. “You’re being paranoid again. Everything about her checks out.”

Old childhood irritations flared. Just because he’d taken mental health medication in his younger years didn’t make him crazy. “I wish you wouldn’t say that. It’s good to be cautious.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. But Sonja is a good fit, and I deserve to be happy.”

After a long moment, Randall said, “I hope it works out for you.” Maybe he
was
just being paranoid. Being repeatedly questioned by the FBI could do that to a person.

Thursday, May 9, 10:30 a.m.

Dallas stuffed her jeans into the dresser and wondered how long she would be in this lovely—but middle of nowhere—apartment that still had a new-carpet smell. Spencer said they’d built the fourplex the year before and that her unit had never been lived in. Raff lived next door, and the lower spaces were empty. If the bureau succeeded in arresting the Claytons for kidnapping, those apartments would probably stay empty, and Destiny might eventually become a ghost town.

Dallas finished unpacking, grabbed a breakfast bar she’d purchased on the way out—along with other basics like French bread, brie, and vodka—and opened her laptop. She logged into Google and keyed in her location. She still needed to study a topographical map of the acreage, particularly the hill, to see if she could spot anything that indicated an underground bunker. She’d stayed in Destiny until late the night before, meeting all the members at the gathering. She’d been charming and supportive of whatever they discussed, treating the event like an audition, in which she played a bright, concerned and slightly nutty debutante. Those high school acting lessons had paid off many times over.

Overall, the group seemed pleasant and thoughtful, yet passionately convinced that “life as we know it” was doomed. Even though she considered herself a cynic, she at least gave political leaders and scientists credit with wanting to keep themselves alive. Therefore, they had to safeguard everyone else.

A knock interrupted her study. She pushed her laptop cover down and checked the peephole. Raff.
Damn.
He’d flirted with her mercilessly the night before, and she couldn’t stand the arrogant slacker. From what she’d learned during the party, he was new to the community and had been recently hired as an IT guy. But how necessary could the job be for these few people? Even with their online prepper business?

Dallas stepped back to open the door. He wasn’t her target, but everyone in Destiny was a potential source of information, and she might be able to charm some valuable intel out of him later, with alcohol as a lubricant for both of them.

“Good morning. What’s up?”

“I thought you might want to have breakfast.” His breath was sour from last night’s beer, even though he’d tried to cover it with toothpaste. The booze smell came from his belly, and a toothbrush didn’t reach that far.

“I’ve already eaten. But thank you. Maybe tomorrow?”

“What are you doing right now?”

“Getting ready to go out for a run.” That should discourage him.

His face fell. “Stop by when you get back. We should get to know each other, being the only young single people in this—” He hesitated. “This odd little village.”

Dallas was sure he’d been about to say something unpleasant. “You think Destiny is odd? Why are you here?”

“Easy money.” He grinned. “Why are you here?”

“Peace of mind.”

“Oh, come on. You’re hiding from somebody or something, like everyone else here. Ex-boyfriend is my guess.”

Dallas did her best to look sad rather than highly irritated. “My fiancé died, and I needed a change of pace. I have to go. We’ll talk again later.” She closed the door. What a prick. She decided to break into his apartment at her first opportunity and poke around in his computer files. Maybe he was the one who was hiding something. As a young male techie, he was probably a hacker, and the thought of busting him made her smile.

Dallas opened her laptop again and studied the terrain on the first hill beyond the cornfields. A few oak trees and some scrubby, unidentifiable bushes. Near the top of the front side was an outcropping of rock about ten feet across. Not easy to excavate. As she studied the back side, her computer pinged. An email landed in her FBI account. From Special Agent Gibson. Surprised, she read:
I’m now your contact on this assignment. Please report directly to me. McCullen is still on the team, but another investigation is taking his time. Do you have an update?

Disappointed, but always professional, Dallas keyed in:
I checked out of the motel and moved to Destiny early this morning. I attended a social gathering last night and met most of the members. I’ll begin a physical search this afternoon, if I can. The IT guy here is Greg Rafferty, but it’s probably an alias. Will you run a check on him?

Dallas was surprised that a town the size of Redding would have an investigation come up that took precedence over a missing persons case. Unless they’d had a murder or kidnapping. Crimes always seemed to occur in clusters. Sometimes they were connected, and sometimes they were about opportunity, logistics, or weather.

She took a quick look at the Google Earth map of the back side of the hill. Several boulders showed as dark blobs near the bottom. She wished she could take a look in daylight, but that might be too obvious—and too soon. First she had to establish a pattern of going out for a daily run to the hill and back. Then she would make a night journey and explore the hillside. If she found anything that looked like an entry, she might request that the bureau send out a drone to detect for a heat source. They needed a specific location and credible intel before they could commit those resources.

Dressed in knee-length yoga pants and a T-shirt, Dallas left the apartment. She could feel Raff watching her from his window.
Creep
. Once she hit the asphalt, she decided to take another quick tour of the houses to familiarize herself with the layout. Who knew where Emma was? Just because Agent McCullen had searched Randall’s place didn’t mean Emma wasn’t being held in another house a hundred yards away.

The homes were all new, single level, and well cared for. A few had kids’ bikes and toys on the lawns, one yard had been planted with herbs and flowers, and another had several bizarre metal sculptures, most likely created by the owner. Nothing too out of the ordinary. Except the gas-powered generators connected to every home. These people were ready to go off the grid at any moment. She’d learned that the community also had a hydropower generator set up by the creek, but her tour yesterday hadn’t included a look at it. She would jog out there tomorrow. Today she wanted a look at the hill where Spencer had cast his eyes when they talked about bunkers.

She waved at a woman pulling weeds in her yard. Beth. A physicist who had once taught at Berkeley. Dallas had met her last night. So far, the members seemed normal, in fact, more intelligent and rational than the average civilian. The only two who bothered her were Raff, who seemed out of place and had joined the community after Emma disappeared. And Randall, a cold man with a smoldering intensity under the surface. He’d mentioned Spencer’s wife soon after they’d met, so she assumed he was feeling protective of his brother. But maybe he was a borderline psychopath, who had his wife in an underground bunker like a caged pet.

Dallas headed for the dirt road behind Spencer’s house and picked up her pace. It felt good to run outside. At home, she swam laps and used the elliptical machine at the gym. Nobody jogged in Phoenix.

As she passed his backyard, Spencer called from his deck, “Wait, Sonja. I’ll join you.”

Damn.
So much for her plans. She stopped and worked up a smile.
Be patient
, she reminded herself. It was only her first day in the community. But it was Emma’s eighth day missing. “Good morning. You’re a runner too?”

“My whole life.” He jogged up, his face glowing with a fresh tan, his body lean and sexy.

A surge of pleasure washed over her, and Dallas realized she was attracted to him. Could she get away with a hookup? Technically, Spencer wasn’t really the target, Randall was. In her head, she heard her boss scoff.

“It’s a gorgeous day,” she finally commented. “I feel lucky to be here.”

They started down the road at a good clip. Spencer asked, “How’s the apartment? Will you be comfortable there?”

“It’s very nice, but I’d love to grow an herb garden.”

“I’ll build you a raised bed in the space behind the fourplex.”

“Thanks. I’d like to help with that.”

“I think we have most of the supplies, but I may need to run into town for hinges.”

“No rush.”

Dallas sucked in air, loving the fresh purity of it. The blue sky, the fragrant fields with their new crop of corn, the snow-covered mountain—all of it pleased her senses, and she understood why the members loved this place. For a moment, she let herself forget why she was here and simply enjoy the experience.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Spencer echoed her thoughts.

“Incredible.” Dallas glanced over. “I have to ask. What are the winters like?”

“They’re not bad. Mostly in the forties with very little snow down here.” Spencer paused to take a few quick breaths. “But the skiing on the mountain is terrific if you’re into it.”

“I used to ski, but I lost interest.” Her work at the bureau consumed much of her life now, but she loved it.

“What does interest you?”

“I’d love to do some exploring and see what herbs grow naturally in this area. Maybe make some tinctures and start an online business.” While she caught her breath, she decided to stimulate the discussion. “I’m tired of the pace of social marketing. I feel like I’ve developed ADD and forgot how to relax.”

Spencer nodded his agreement. “I’m worried that our whole culture is moving at such a frantic pace that it’s become unhealthy.”

“I know what you mean. You have to wonder how much the internet, instant communication, and digital games affect our escalating rates of mental health problems.” Dallas had given some thought to the subject, but she was as hooked on digital stimulation as anyone. Without missing a stride, she turned to Spencer. “Do you think it contributes to autism and bipolar disorder?”

“Of course it does. But the toxins in our environment are as much to blame.”

A long line of trees came into sight, and Dallas realized the growth ran along the creek. “I’d love to see the generator. Can we head that way?”

“Sure. The path is just up a ways.”

As they made the turn off the main dirt road, Dallas asked, “What do you think is the solution? I mean, beyond what you’re doing here for a small group. How does our society reverse the trend?”

“I don’t think any of the traditional methods of education and/or regulation will work.”

“You’re probably right. Parents put digital toys into the hands of babies.” An interesting thought occurred to her. She hoped it would help win Spencer’s trust. “The only way to prove the effect is through a rigorous study. Comparing one group of people raised on digital technology with another group that grew up without it. Like the kids in Destiny for example.” It took a moment to get it all out while breathing hard.

“I’ve thought of that,” Spencer said. “But the research is such a long-term commitment. I don’t think our way of life will last that long.”

“What do you predict will hit us first? Global economic depression? Nuclear war?”

“The U.S. seems headed for a financial collapse that will fundamentally alter our society.” Spencer’s tone was serious, despite his labored breath. “Global climate change will contribute to making it a permanent setback. Possibly even wipe out our species.”

Dallas had never heard concern that extreme. “I’ve read reports that indicate the earth’s population will dwindle to ten million or less in this century, but scientists seem to believe we’ll survive.”

“It’s wishful thinking. I don’t believe we’ll last through the decade.”

His conviction surprised her. A true doomsayer. “In that case, I’m glad we’ll both be here in Destiny.”

After a few minutes, they neared the line of spruce trees and jogged down a gentle bank. Anchored on a cement platform near the creek was a two-foot-wide turbine and a large generator, much like the ones she’d seen connected to the homes. This one, though, was powered by creek water pouring down from a pipeline.

The engineer stood from where she’d been squatting behind the generator.

“Hi, Grace. How’s it going?” Spencer jogged up to the power station.

Dallas took a detailed mental picture of the micro-hydropower setup under a carport-like structure. She noticed a series of batteries next to the generator.

“I’m making progress, but the batteries are still overheating.” Stress tightened Grace’s melodic voice.

Dallas noticed the circles under her eyes but didn’t comment. “You’re storing the power in the batteries?”

“Temporarily.” Grace wiped sweat from her forehead. Her camouflage pants and lime-green shirt seemed overdressed for the weather. Probably an old military habit. The engineer continued, “We also have an underground power line to a relay station near the community center.” She pointed back toward the road. “But without the batteries, the power fluctuates too much.”

Ambitious.
Dallas realized just how serious these people were. “I’m impressed. Did you do all this yourself?”

“Mostly. One of Tina’s boys helped me dig the line. We rented a trencher, of course.”