The Lifeline Signal Page 5

  “Thanks,” Annie answered, sounding faraway and still not looking at any of them. She hadn’t let go of the shark tooth either.

  Maureen was quiet for a moment, then shook her head, eyes wide. “Can I maybe get you kids something to drink?”

  “I’m good,” Chance shook his head, staring at Annie with something between admiration and pain. She continued to stare vacantly into space, then suddenly looked up at Maureen.

  “Ice cream,” she said. “Uh, please. If you have it. If that’s okay.”

  “You bet,” Maureen nodded and a faint smile spread across her face for the first time since they’d arrived. “What’s your favorite kind?”

  “Favorite…” Annie mouthed, then shrugged, shaking her head. “Anything. Whatever’s cold. We don’t have much cold stuff back in—I haven’t had it in a long time.”

  Maureen just looked at her for a few seconds, then headed off to the kitchen. “Cold it is.”

  A few minutes later, it seemed like Annie might actually eat all the ice cream in the whole house. She tore into the cookies and cream almost before there was a spoon in her hand and only stopped to press the heels of her hands against her eyes. Shiloh thought she was crying, until she mumbled the words ‘brain freeze.’

  “Better?” Chance asked when she finally slowed down, looking equal parts fascinated and impressed.

  “Mm-hmm,” she mumbled, tossing down the spoon and leaning back against the couch cushions. “I like cold things. Sweet things. Don’t get much of any of that in Parole.”

  “That’s—that sucks.” He started to smile, but it faded.

  “It’s fine. I’m out now.” Annie shrugged. Then she looked up at Maureen and Shiloh, as if realizing something for the first time. “You used to live there too. You escaped.”

  “Ten years ago,” Maureen said with a slightly rueful smile. “If you call…yeah, I guess we did escape. Out of the fire, but back into the frying pan.”

  “You can escape Parole,” Shiloh said. “But you never really escape from Parole.”

  “No. We’re three-thousand miles away from Turret’s mess and he’s still making our lives harder.” Maureen’s voice turned bitter. “We kept our mouths shut. I made the beacon prototypes to keep away the ghosts. I made the barriers that protected every big city in the U.S. from the worst of Tartarus—and places nobody else gave a crap about, small towns, poor towns, reservations, they weren’t his priority—well, they’re priorities to me! And all the while Tartarus keeps spreading and Parole keeps burning. Was it enough?”

  “Mom,” Shiloh said quietly when she stopped to take a breath. “You did good.”

  “I know—I know, just… I guess I’m not that good at sitting still in a bubble while I know the world’s going to hell outside.”

  “So, what are we bringing home?” Annie asked, right back to business.

  “Got it right here.” Slowly, Maureen reached into the pocket of her jeans and drew out a small object. It looked like a floppy disk, a worthless relic of office supplies and old movies, nothing anyone would use anymore. But Maureen held the plastic square delicately in the palm of her hand, gazing at it like it was worth a fortune or maybe a lost masterpiece. “I haven’t put this baby down for a second since I finished. Don’t you let it out of your sight either, not for anything.”

  “Good.” Annie gave a resolute nod, usual determined energy returning. The ice cream seemed to have done wonders. As did getting back to the goal. “That’s all I need. I’m ready to go right now, how about you?”

  “I’ve been ready for years.”

  “Wait—what is that?” Chance asked, looking at the unassuming square.

  “Hope on a floppy disk.” Maureen smiled. “Actually, it just looks like one. This thing holds about a thousand times more data than anything you can get right now. But it’s what’s on the disk that’s important.”

  “Hope for Parole?”

  “It starts there, but it doesn’t end there,” she said slowly, suddenly seeming reluctant to let the disk go. “An old friend of mine in Parole will know what to do with these schematics.”

  “Danae?” Annie asked quietly, as if the name were a secret code word.

  Maureen gave a short laugh. “We’re gonna have fun.”

  “So what is the plan?”

  “The plan was…” Maureen answered Annie’s question but looked at Shiloh as she spoke. “That we’d take the data, find your dad, and then make tracks for Parole together.” She looked at the other two, and the disk. “But we just added a ton of variables I’m not sure what to do with yet. And this disk needs to get there fast.”

  “I drive fast,” Annie said with a nod. “But I’m not going all the way back to Parole. I’m meeting some friends halfway.”

  “What friends?”

  “The crew of the FireRunner,” she said with a hint of pride. “They got me out. And they got me halfway here. They’re making a circuit of Tartarus’ main beacon ring now, then they’ll pick me up and take the data the rest of the way to—”

  “The FireRunner? Jay’s ship!” Maureen and Shiloh looked at each other. “Oh, this just got a whole lot easier. There are three people in the world I’d trust with this data—one of them is Jay. And the FireRunner’s gotta be safer than Parole, especially now.”

  “Jay, like…” Chance frowned, looking like he was trying to remember something important, but not having much success. “That name rings a bell. Are you saying a name or a letter?”

  “Both,” Maureen said, but didn’t elaborate, or seem to intend to.

  “He’s my uncle!” Shiloh smiled, the kind that went with an inside joke or juicy secret. “Everything amazing my mom does with inventions and machines, he does with computers.”

  “He wishes,” Maureen snorted. “There’s no comparing. But he’ll be able to unlock my encryption, eventually. Might need some help from a friend, though.” She smirked, clearly not about to say more. “He’ll know who. Gonna drive him nuts.”

  “So I’ll get this to him.” Annie’s pokerface was back, but the determination was clear in her voice. “The FireRunner should be about halfway around the Tartarus Zone. I can make it in four days, tops. From there, it’s about three to Parole.”

  “Good. And when you do reach Parole, find Evelyn. If anybody knows what’s happening, it’ll be her.” Maureen shot Shiloh a somewhat conspiratorial glance. “Your dad’s probably been in contact with her too.”

  “We have to find Gabriel too,” Annie said quietly but insistently. “He warned me about the collapse. I would have died if he hadn’t woken me up.”

  “Yeah we do,” Shiloh readily agreed. “None of this would have happened if he hadn’t linked us up, however he did it. I still can’t really believe it, but it’s important.”

  Annie still looked pensive. “If I wasn’t living it, I’d say this was bull. And I’d walk away.”

  “Even coming from a city full of superheroes?” Chance shot her a grin. “Thought this kind of thing was normal in Parole.”

  “None of this is normal. Nothing has been normal for a long time. And maybe I should be scared, but I’m not. I’ve been in your head and there’s nothing to be scared of.”

  “It’s an awful place, isn’t it?” Chance’s smile became a grimace. “Sorry about that. But I know what you mean. That tree is pretty much the one good thing in my life that stayed, while everything else changed.”

  “Or collapsed.”

  Shiloh gave a nervous laugh in the silence that followed. “Listen, I’ve been waiting for something to happen for so long, so we could get back to Parole and start living. Now that you guys are here, maybe I can get rid of the sleeping pills and coffee.”

  “And we will find your dad.” The second Maureen said those words, nothing seemed nearly as frightening. Reality came into focus, like so many threads forming one coherent picture. Somewhere out there, the city still burned. Everything was lining up, falling into place, and starting to happen very fast.

>   “Not to be a killjoy,” Chance said, sounding a bit apprehensive. “But once we get to Parole, how do we get in there? It’s still locked up under a barrier.”

  “Don’t worry about that.” Maureen reached into another pocket and pulled out a small device, a black cylinder with a red button on top, like a remote-control detonator from an action movie to go with the floppy disk. “I designed that barrier, I can get us past it just as easily.”

  Suddenly, the metal doors slid open behind them and they all turned to look. Chance stumbled a few steps backwards and Annie raised her fists and lowered her head—but instead of the monster they’d anticipated, Brianna rushed through the door, disheveled and panting.

  “Bri!” Shiloh ran to hug her, so weak with relief it almost felt like the precursor to a blackout. “Are you okay?”

  “Am I okay?” She pushed Shiloh back enough so xie could see the incredulity on her face. “I’m not the one who shot a laser out of my hands!”

  “Yeah, about that,” Shiloh grimaced. “Did anybody see—?”

  “You know, until now I never really believed in miracles.” She shook her head. “But I don’t think anyone actually saw where you went. Oh, they saw the energy beam, but not where you went.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Annie smiled and nodded, as if confirming something to herself.

  “But listen, the hole in the barrier’s still open, it’s not closing up like it should,” Brianna said, worry clear in her eyes. “Somebody has to give it some extra juice from here. I still can’t believe that thing actually tore a hole in it, like it was nothing!”

  “I know,” Maureen replied grimly. “I’ve been working on that problem for a while. But Meridian’s still got its beacon.”

  “Good,” Brianna said, though she didn’t look very comforted “Because there’s a lot more on the way.”

  “What?” Maureen’s eyes widened.

  “Yeah! Like, a whole swarm. I’ve never seen so many at once!”

  “More firsts. Never heard of anything like this.” Maureen frowned, voice sharp with alarm. “They must have been attracted by the discharge. Or maybe the hole in the barrier. Or maybe they were following…” She continued indistinctly as she began manipulating the controls on a nearby console.

  “This day just keeps getting weirder. I’m about ready to send it back and ask for a new one…” Brianna said, then stopped, taking in everyone gathered around in the corridor. “Are you guys going somewhere?”

  “Can’t stay here,” Shiloh said, looking back at Maureen and xir two new-old friends. “Not after today.”

  “You don’t mean…” Brianna’s eyes widened and her pale, sweat-damp face lost even more color. “Not Parole. You can’t be serious.”

  “I’ve been serious about this for a long time.”

  She stared at Shiloh and tried to speak. No words came out the first couple tries, though the noises sounded like protests. At last, she just shook her head. “You really think you’re going to find the truth out there?”

  “Won’t find it here,” Shiloh answered. Somehow xie felt more serene than xie’d felt in a long time.

  “And there’s nothing I can say to make you stay?”

  “Bri,” Shiloh said gently. “We’ve lived here for ten years. We’ve been preparing to leave this bubble for about nine.”

  “Go find your answers, then.” Brianna nodded, blinking hard. “Don’t look back. But—call me? Somehow? Just let me know you’re okay.”

  “When I get there, I’m gonna be more okay than I’ve ever been in my life.” Shiloh pulled her close. Her arms went immediately around xir as well and they held each other tight. When they broke apart, Shiloh was still smiling. “And I’ll call you. Somehow.”

  “There,” Maureen said, striding up to the pair and giving Brianna an appraising look. “The hole’s started closing, but it’ll still need some babysitting. You’ll be okay here on your own?

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Brianna straightened up, hands behind her back. The only thing missing was a salute. “I had an excellent teacher.”

  “Just keep it from falling down,” Maureen shook her head, almost laughing. “And watch out for any new tears. Then we’re good.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Good.” Maureen grinned and took a deep breath, like it was the first fresh breath she’d had in a long time. “I’ve got a lot of unfinished business in Parole. Been waiting a long time to get back to it. Did you drive here?”

  Annie looked up at that last question directed at her, and nodded, heading toward the door. Shiloh cast a last, half-sad, half-excited look back at Brianna as everyone else hurried outside; she followed them to the doorway and watched with wide eyes as Annie located her invisible motorcycle and did something that made it reappear from thin air.

  “Now come here,” Maureen said, holding up the black cylinder with the red button. “Everybody get in close like it’s a group selfie.” Everybody squeezed in tight, and Maureen pushed the button.

  In a heartbeat, they were somewhere else.

  * ☆ *

  Brianna worked feverishly, guiding Meridian’s barrier-and-beacon system through the regeneration process. Closing the hole took more energy than she’d thought, and it stayed stubbornly open until she re-directed power from the backup generators. Slowly, the wound in the energy dome healed. As soon as it was safe to let her mind wander, she started running over the next few minutes to come. Rehearsing the conversation. Deep, calming breaths. Eyes steady, no blinks.

  After not nearly long enough, an insistent buzz from the intercom warned her that someone wanted to come inside. Brianna savored one last second of blissful silence and an empty room to herself. Then she flipped a lever and the airlock decompressed with a hiss. “Come in!”

  Major David Turret’s pale face was weathered and his close-cropped hair was silver-white. He was not a tall man, or a broad one, or heavily muscled. He was not physically imposing, and he did not raise his voice often. He didn’t have to. He’d made a long career out of getting results long before that became necessary.

  “Major. Sir.” Brianna stood straight and tall, making herself look unwaveringly back when he fixed his cobalt-hard, pale blue eyes on her. Not many people in the world could hold their own under the intensity of his stare, not even her. Today, several lives might depend on the steadiness of her eyes. On one blink. “What can I do for you?”

  He took his time, movements unhurried and purposeful as he studied the conspicuously empty room containing the beacon’s primary control. It and the curving corridor outside were silent except for softly humming machinery. He seemed entirely unsurprised by the apparent vacancy and sounded like he knew the answer to his next question before he asked it. “Where is Dr. Cole?”

  “I don’t know, Sir.” Brianna pushed all the confidence she had into her technically honest answer. She kept her voice and gaze steady and prayed for no uncomfortable follow-up questions. “I just saw there was a hole in the barrier and I came here to repair it. Maybe she’s doing some field work.”

  If he suspected this was anything but the truth, he didn’t pursue it or alter his surprisingly soft, measured voice that anyone not intimately familiar with it might have called calm. “I received a disturbing report today of an incident that resulted in the deaths of several civilians. Shiloh Cole was involved, as well as two other unidentified youths. I’m told you were an eyewitness. Can you verify any of this?”

  “There was a disturbance,” she said carefully, not liking the direction this was headed. “But it was because a ghost—”

  “Thank you,” he interrupted in the same level tone. With that, he turned to leave.

  “Dad, no,” Brianna said quietly and her tentative objection was enough to make him stop in his tracks but not turn around. “That’s not what I said, Shiloh didn’t kill those—”

  “Major.” A sharp edge emerged for the first time.

  “Major. Sir.” She corrected herself, standing up straighter until her back be
gan to ache. “I said Shiloh didn’t kill anyone, the ghost did. Shiloh dissipated the ghost.”

  “With an electric discharge,” Turret continued, his tone once more carefully controlled. Slowly, he turned to fix her with an unblinking gaze, but there was no trace of the annoyance that had flared in his voice. “It charred the bodies of two Radiance volunteers beyond recognition.”

  “No, it didn’t,” she said firmly. “That was the ghost’s venom. And it killed armed Eye in the Sky officers—not unarmed volunteers.” She took a breath, then spoke very quickly. “Your report is wrong. Whoever gave you that information is wrong or lying.”

  “My source is reliable,” he said just above a thoughtful murmur but, as he spoke, he watched her very carefully. She wondered if she’d ever worn that pensive expression while assisting on one of Dr. Cole’s many projects. Evaluating a new and untested resource, one whose fate remained undecided. Maybe limitless potential, maybe a pile of scrap.

  “But like you said, I was an eyewitness. If you actually look at the bodies, you’ll see the cause of death is much closer to being doused in acid than struck by lightning.”

  Turret said nothing. Nor did he move, blink, or seem to breathe. He waited, and Brianna started to sweat.

  “And before that…it spoke.”

  Again, nothing, just a continued, unbroken stare. Face reddening and heart beginning to pound, Brianna scrambled to say the right words, give him what he wanted, say anything to make what suddenly felt like an interrogation come to an end.

  “The ghost—the dragon. It said…words, it sounded like some kind of radio broadcast. Staticky, hard to understand.”

  “What words?” His voice dropped to just above a whisper. Brianna began to shake.

  “‘It’s going to be okay.’ That’s what it said. It almost sounded…nice.”

  “Is that all?”

  Brianna forced herself to straighten her back, suck in a breath and look her father in the eye, transform every bit of her being into the soldier he wanted. It was never more important than when she was about to lie to his face. “Yes, sir.”