G-157 (27 page)

“Are you any closer to cracking it?”

“No,” Jackson said, pursing his lips as he looked to the floor.

The General’s face went lax. A quiet hum of computers and people talking in the distance were the only audible noises in the office. Jackson could feel a dark weight begin to press on his chest as he watched the motionless general. The weight
pushed down harder and harder on him, smashing his organs deep into his pelvis, restricting his breathing.

“How much time do we have before we lose the entire colony?” It was the first time he’d ever heard Manning speak so quietly. The softness of the general’s voice sent a cold chill down Jackson’s spine.

Jackson pursed his lips again and glanced at his computer. Beads of sweat began to drip from his forehead. He stared at the screen, his jaw clenching.

“How much time, Jack?”

Jackson closed his eyes and whispered, “sixteen hours, twenty tops.”

“I see,” the general said, his own jaw clenching as he stood to leave the office. “God help you.”

The office door shut with a soft click, and was once again left in silence.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Wednesday May 5, 2010

10:07 a.m.

Population: 217

Jenkins could feel his burning stomach flip-flopping around, the alcohol beginning to reach its eruption point within. The room spun in his double vision no matter how hard he tried to make it stable. The only thing sharp and clear in the room was the unfolded letter in his lap.

It had been his call in the beginning. It had been his call to bring them in, his call that had ruined so many. It had been his call that ate away at him over the years, that ate at his soul like a cancer and filled it with booze instead. Something had to fill that void within, and the alcohol filled him up and made him whole, at least for a little while.

He began to laugh as he stared down at the letter, began to laugh at what he knew would be the end of him. It had been his call then, but now it was going to be theirs, and his conscious would take no lesser guilt between the two.

Another rumble echoed up from his stomach and through his esophagus, the gas burning and tasting sour as the belch came through his lips.

“Oh, God.”

He tried to stand and instead toppled over, crashing down onto the coffee table and landing on the floor. He wobbled as he crawled on his hands and knees to the bathroom, the vodka he’d spilled on his shirt stinging at his nose. He stumbled once in the hall. Reflexes slow from the drowning drink, he couldn’t catch himself in time when the world took a hard jerk to the left, and he face planted onto the hardwood floor. Spitting blood from his busted lip, he got back up and found his way to the bathroom.

The water glistening back at him from the porcelain bowl reflected a hollow man with deep wrinkles and baggy eyes. When did he change? When had he gotten so old?

“Oh, God.”

His stomach clenched, and the geyser within erupted with full, burning, heavy force. 

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Wednesday May 5, 2010

3:14 p.m.

Population: 211

She held her head high as long strides carried her through the City Hall doors. Her sure footsteps reverberated on the old marble floors, intruding upon the silence of the building. The receptionist didn’t look up at her when she stood on the opposite side of the mahogany desk.

“I need to see the M
ayor, and I need to see him now.”

“He went out of town to visit relatives,” the receptionist said.

“What? How could he leave at a time like this?”

The woman shrugged.

Aire gritted her teeth
. “Where is he? How can I get a hold of him?”

“He left where he was going somewhere around here. I know it isn’t far.” The receptionist began to fumble through the mess of papers on her desk.

“Good, I’ll go to him myself then and let him know what I think about his commitment to civic duty.”

“Okay.
” Unable to find the M
ayor’s address on her desk, she began opening and rummaging through each drawer. “I know it’s in here somewhere.”

Aire rolled her eyes and began to search the desk herself. She placed each pa
per and envelope from the topsy-
turvy clutter into a neat pile on the corner of the desk.
She was almost to
the bottom of the messy pile in Jenkins’
s
inbox when
the color drained from her face
and a dull roar raged through her ears
. Her
numb fingers
reached for the envelope addressed to Jenkins, an emblem of a blue lion inside a circle stamped on the upper left hand corner.

“What is this?
” she asked, her eyes never leaving the blue lion.

“Hmm?
” the receptionist said, looking up to see what Aire was referring to. “Oh that? I don’t know. I guess it’s like a club or something.
I’m not allowed to read the mail with the blue lion on it
. Th
ose are
for Mayor Jenkins only.” She snatched the envelope from the girl and placed it in her drawer.

Aire began to walk backwards as the receptionist continued her search
, her legs feeling like globs of rubber. Her chest felt tight and heavy
.
The blue lion
. She struggled to take a breath, the roaring in her ears now deafening. It felt as though her intestines had jumbled themselves into thick knots.
Beware the blue lion…

“Here it is,” the girl announced, holding up the paper. “I’ll write the address down for you.”

Beware the blue lion.

“No thank you,” Aire said,
her tongue slow and awkward in her desertous mouth
.

“You don’t want it?”

She shook her head, her throat feeling as though it were collapsing in on itself.

“Why not?”

Aire turned and
forced her uncoordinated legs to run towards the door. The receptionist’s voice boomed in the empty building,
calling for her as she disappeared
through the massive doors
.

Her calves began to sting with her quick pace.
The blue lion…the blue lion
.
Whatever was going on in John’s Town had something to
do with the blue lion, and the M
ayor was in on it. Jenkins had been her last hope, but he was the enemy. She’d have to fix this on her own, and it had to be done in secret.

She
slowed when she
crossed Bourbon Street
and saw
Gary sitting alone at Maggie’s.
That’s it
, her mind shouted.
It’s Gary, it all started with Gary. If we could just-

“I need to talk to you,” she said, leaning over the railing.

“I’m a little busy,” he growled.

“Meet me at the lake tonight at the hidden fishing rock, three am.”

He scowled back at her with a
sharp look in his eyes
. His voice was low, like the warning growling of a maddening dog.
“We’re not supposed to go out after nine, now are we?”

She pulled her head higher and straightened her shoulders, hoping that he wouldn’t see past her façade and gaze upon the desperate, frightened girl within.

“I have a feeling you don’t care about that.”

“You’re right, I don’t care. I’ll go out when I please. What I
do
care about is that you’re bothering me, and I don’t like it. Now
,
if you don’t get out of my face in about three seconds I’m going to smash yours in, you got it?”

She stepped away from the railing, fearing to make any sudden movements around the boy. Whoever just spoke to her wasn’t Gary.  This creature across the railing was something darker, something cruel and violent.

“Will you come
?
I need your help.”

“Yeah I guess
.
I could use the exercise. Now get out of here.”

“Thank you.”

“Whatever.” H
e
turned his shoulder to her and lowered
his head closer to his plate.

She paused, her palms sweating as she stared at him. A knot caught in her throat
and caused her voice to strain and crack
. “Where is Melissa?”

Gary flew from his chair and lunged towards the railing, his fist clenched in the air above him
, cocked and ready to send his fist plowing into her like a battering ram
. “I said leave!”

She
turned and
bolted down the street. Her pumping legs
swiftly
carried her far from the boy, but even at a safe distance, she still kept running.

***

Wednesday May 5, 2010

3:31 p.m.

Population: 211