Orpheus: Homecoming (The Orpheus Trilogy Book 2) (26 page)

After the doorbell had faded she heard a crash of some kind. She looked over her left shoulder into the street, and then the right, expecting to see a fender bender or someone taking out a stop sign. But the street was quiet. She could hear some noise inside now, and it sounded like maybe Jackie was moving furniture. Gracie tried to look through the windows, but all of the shades were drawn.

"Hmmmm," she said, and rang the doorbell again.

This time there was no confusing what she heard. It was a desperate cry, and it was her name.

She tried the door handle, but it was locked. She yelled, "Hold on!"

She tried to break the door down with her shoulder, but she didn't have enough mass behind it to break the deadbolt away from the frame. She instead opted to break the glass. She was wearing a heavy pea coat, so she smashed the glass with her elbow. She reached through and fumbled around for the door lock and the deadbolt, taking a few cuts on her hand in the process. "Come on, come on!"

After what seemed like an hour, Gracie got the door unlocked. She went through it, and instantly an alarm started blaring. She supposed that was good.
Let the cops come, and please be quick about it.

She got into the hallway and saw a man assaulting her friend in the kitchen. It looked like he had a gun to her head, but he hadn't seen the visitor yet. She ran at him, keenly aware that she had no weapon, and also that she was still carrying a bag of groceries. She reached in and found what she wanted on the first try. The glass was cold to the touch after being exposed to the nighttime air. She grabbed it by the neck and swung it against the man's face as hard as possible.

She meant to take his head clean off.

Instead, the bottle of extra hot buffalo sauce erupted and coated nearly his entire face. Both of his eyes were completely covered. The unbroken remains of the bottle continued through and ripped his face up. The reaction was immediate and one of horror. He shrieked. It was one of the most satisfying sounds that Gracie had ever heard.

Then she heard a gunshot and a white hot pain coursed through her shoulder and back, and she was staggered.

Her intervention had not only done a good deal of damage, but it had bought her friend the time she needed to regain some of her wits. Jackie still held the spindle. She spun and finally was able to jam it home. She was aiming for his armpit, but she was still woozy and only succeeded in driving it deep into his side.

He dropped the gun and it was kicked away by one of them. This was completely by accident, as none of the three had any type of coordination to call on. One was nearly unconscious, another was blinded by pain, and the third was simply blind, however temporary that may be.

Trent managed to extricate himself from the pile of bodies. He wiped the sauce away from his eyes with his sleeve. The pain was excruciating, but he could make out vague shapes. He had lost his weapon and was both wounded and outnumbered. At any other time, he would've stayed and killed them anyway, but that alarm was the deciding factor. He sent a blind kick into someone and heard a
whoof
of pain. He used his hands to guide himself out of the kitchen. He paused in the doorway to taunt Jackie. Her hand shot out blindly and disappeared between the dishwasher and the cabinet. "You're already dead, you and your family. I'm going to cross everyone off of the list, anyway. You -”

Jackie's hand reappeared, and Trent's bravado evaporated when he saw the barrel pointed at him, wavering, but not as much as he would have liked.

Jackie, nearly unconscious, managed to croak out, "Fuck. You." and fired four times before collapsing backwards.

Trent felt two impacts, one in his side, the other in his thigh. His leg collapsed beneath him and the last two rounds sailed over his head, missing him by inches.

Trent rolled out of the doorway. He half-crawled, half-lunged to the open door and into the night.

Gracie put her hand on her shoulder wound and could feel too much blood. She was already getting lightheaded.

"Oh, my God, Gracie ... " Jackie's voice was so far away, but Gracie thought that couldn't be right, because she felt hands pick her up off the floor and cradle her. Then she felt a different kind of pain in his shoulder, like the pressure was gradually increasing. She was aware of this new sensation for only a few seconds before passing out. The last thing she remembered hearing was, "Come on, where the fuck are you???"

O

A soon as Orpheus heard the house alarm, he knew that whatever that Trent fucker had planned for had been completely blown up by the unexpected guest. He told Fish to call 911 and Tim to call Trager. His phone was tied up, and he certainly wasn't going to disconnect the call. Whatever had happened, someone had gotten the best of Trent. He'd retreated. Now, the only question was what kind of damage he had done.

"Jackie!" He barked as loud as he could to be heard over the house alarm. "Jackie! Talk to me!"

He repeated this several times and got no response. His heart sank.

The view on his phone changed, and he was looking at his wife. Her face was bloody and swollen, but she was alive. "I'm here, Cam! I need your help!"

"Jesus Christ, are you okay? Are you armed?"

She was clearly struggling to keep her head clear, and she spoke in clipped sentences. "He's gone. Shot him. Need your help."

Tim gave him a thumbs up. "Cops are on their way, honey. Hang in there."

"Not me." She turned the phone around and Orpheus saw the prone form of Gracie. Jackie's free hand was pressing a dish towel to Gracie's wound.

One look told Orpheus that it had hit an artery. "Oh, my God."

Jackie was on the verge of tears. "I can't stop the bleeding! Where's the fucking ambulance???"

Orpheus knew that only one of them was allowed to panic. Jackie had held him together on enough occasions, now it was his turn. He spoke to her calmly. "Listen to me. There still an orange paracord lanyard hanging on the mail thing in the kitchen?"

"Yeah. Getting it." She hastily propped the phone up so she could reach for the lanyard without taking the pressure of Gracie's shoulder. "Got it."

"Grab something long that won't snap easily."

She produced a wooden spoon from the drawer above her.

"Good. Good. Now you're going to make a tourniquet."

He walked her through the process, and she was a quick study. "Help can't be more than another minute or two out. Keep that tourniquet on there. Don't think that you need to check, just keep it twisted. That can only hurt her chances, understand?"

She nodded at the screen, but she wasn't really seeing it.

"Jackie, listen to my voice. You're going into shock, and that can't happen right now. Talk to me."

When she didn't immediately respond, he repeated it with much more force, "Talk to me, goddammit! If you go into shock, that tourniquet slips and she dies! She needs you!"

She licked her lips and inhaled deeply through her nostrils. She was coming back. "I'm here. I'm here."

"Good. Just keep talking."

"About what?"

"Doesn't matter. Tell me what a dummy I am half the time."

She blurted out something that was equal parts laugh and cry. "Half?"

"There you go."

Jackie reacted violently to something off to her right, and Orpheus was afraid that Trent had changed his mind and come back to finish the job. It was only the police, and they had a paramedic with them. The first thing they did was get her to relinquish control of the tourniquet. The paramedic counted to three and took over before beginning his own treatment.

A police officer knelt down next to her and asked her if the attacker was still in the house. She shook her head and said that she didn't think so. He said that they would do a quick search and then tend to her. She said something that Orpheus couldn't quite make out, but judging by the fact that the alarm mercifully fell silent, it had to have been the alarm code.

The two officers disappeared to make sure that Trent was gone, and were back at her side within thirty seconds.

In those thirty seconds, Jackie Holt had forgotten all about her husband. She hugged her knees to her chest and convulsed with uncontrollable sobbing. Orpheus' heart broke for her.

Orpheus looked over at his son. During all of the events on the island that he was aware of, Ethan had kept from descending into the darkness. Now he saw a look that he'd never seen before.

Someone had pushed him too far, and it wouldn't end well for that man. Not at all.

As for Orpheus?

He was familiar with that look. He was pretty sure that he was wearing it right now.

O

Martin Trager had come through, once again. Tim said that Trager hadn't even hung up with him before he was on another call to his security team and dispatched them to the Holt household.

Trager had called him after things had calmed down. His call had found Orpheus in his office, if not wasted, then surely too drunk to drive. He'd never had a day like this in his life.

"Jesus, man, drink some bottled water, would you? We need you shipshape. It feels like things are coming to a head. Again. Yay."

"Get me off of this fucking island, Marty. Right now. I need to be with Jackie."

"Jackie's being taken care of. She's safe. So, no, I'm not going to do that."

"Maybe you didn't fucking hear me. That wasn't a request."

Trager kept his voice calm, measured. "Yes, it is a request, and one that I just denied." He paused to allow Orpheus to swear at him for a moment. "Listen, Holt. Just listen for a second. If I let you off of the island on some revenge trip ...”

"I just want to see my wife."

"Yeah, that, and then you want to find this asshole and kill him, and then kill the assholes above him. I let you off the island, guess what happens? The other four follow you, because I can't legally stop them from giving up their commissions. Then all of you go to war with people we don't even know about yet, the entire island op gets fucked up, and everyone you know and care about is put at extreme risk. Including your wife, again. Is that really what you want? I'm saving you from yourself right now. Hate me if you want, but you're staying put for the time being."

Orpheus drained the small amount left in his glass and slid the empty away from him. He allowed himself to calm down and consider what his friend had just said. Orpheus didn't like it, but Trager was right. "How is she?"

"Jackie's ... better than I thought she would be. I tell you man, she's a warrior. She has a fracture in her orbital socket. The swelling and bruising makes it look worse than it is, although she's in a lot of pain."

"Painkillers?"

"No thanks to the doctors, I can tell you that much. The shit they gave her was offensive. It just so happens that she knows a guy who can get her better stuff which, coincidentally, will help her sleep."

"Mentally?"

"She went through the wringer, but she seems to be pretty accepting of it all. In my experience, those are the people who bounce the quickest and the fullest."

"Thanks." Orpheus was afraid to ask the next question. "What about Gracie?"

"She's going to be okay. Her arm's messed up, but she, and I quote, 'should eventually make a full recovery.' She busts in, save's your wife's life, and the debt is repaid five minutes later. That's good karma. And, just between you and me, a couple of bad bitches. She's under guard. Jackie's staying at my place, and I've added security." This comforted Orpheus, because he'd been to Trager's home on a couple of occasions. In addition to it being huge, it was like a fortress.

"What about her parents?"

"I have guys tailing them, but I think they're out of play."

"I do, too."

"Did I forget anybody?"

Orpheus had given this a lot of thought. "If this is a revenge tour, I think we need to warn Ethan's friends from the island."

"You mean the gay guys?"

"Yeah. From what Ethan has told me, they were involved, too."

"Just get me names and a number and I'll fly them out. What if they resist?"

"Ethan assures me that just telling them about Trent being alive will probably be enough."

"Got it. I'll have them stay at my place, too. They'd better not criticize my design sense."

"Marty, I appreciate all of this."

"No worries. I mean that shit seriously. Don't you worry about what happens over here, because I'm on it. You just work your angles there while I handle things here. Any ideas?"

"We did, but it feels like I'm pumping a dry well right about now."

"I'm sure you'll come up with something."

Now that they'd been fed, Jen and Lena were back in the lab, going over the late doctor's stuff once again. Lena had learned all that she could about the chip for the time being, and was only waiting on word from her friend to see if she could cast any further light on it. Now she was attempting to crack the doctor's computer, but his password was being stubborn.

Jen was still going over the address book, and was growing increasingly frustrated. "This is dumb. I'm tempted to just start calling these numbers."

"You're that bored, huh?"

"Desperate is more like it. I'm at a dead end. I know that the chip does something. I could even guess at what that something is at this point, but knowing what it does doesn't help us fix it. We need to know how it does it."

"Preaching to the choir."

Jen sighed and kept looking, and Lena went back to the computer.

"Wait a second." There was a hint of discovery in Jen's voice. "Do you happen to know Janine's last name?"

"Sorry, no. Why?"

"Huh." She didn't elaborate as she pulled out her cell phone and dialed from the address book. She waited a few seconds and hung up. "Not a working number." She tapped the phone against her chin, deep in thought.

"Okay, give," Lena said.

"Nothing, just a hunch." She dialed again. "Hey, Ethan? Quick question. What was the name of your Zero at the movies? The woman? A-ha, got it. Thanks." Jen flipped backwards in the directory until she found what she was looking for. "Elise." She made another call, and said that she got another non-working number. "What are the odds of that?"

"Honestly, if it's an old address book, probably pretty good. It could be from when the guy went to college, for all we know."

"Oh. Ohohohohoh." She flipped back and forth through the address book. "Holy shit, they're sequential."

"What are?"

"The phone numbers."

"Who puts phone numbers into an address book in order? If you had to add a number in the middle ... they're not phone numbers." Lena flipped through the photos on her desk until she found the one that showed the serial number on the chip. She held the photo up so Jen could read the number, although the shaking of her hand was probably making it difficult.

Jen flipped through the book in chunks of pages. She settled on a page, and jammed her finger down several times. "Janine Trotter. What does this mean?"

"It means we're on the right track. I hope."

Jen went through the pages with a renewed purpose. She was on the last few pages. "Do we have a duty roster? Like with everyone that came here?"

"I have a master on my computer. Hold on." She double-clicked on a desktop icon. "What do you need to know?"

"Falcone's first name. I don't know if I want to be right or wrong on this, but is it Anthony?"

Lena nodded, her eyes wide. "Every name in that book is a person who has the chip? Is a potential Zero?" She grabbed the book and put it in front of her keyboard.

"Oh, my God. There have to be hundreds of names in there. We can account for what, a couple dozen during the outbreak?"

"Shit," Lena said as she scanned the list on her screen. "It gets worse."

"What?"

Lena turned the screen around and pointed at the list of names, but Jen was solely focused on the look of horror on her friend's face. "Twenty of these names are in this school right now."

O

Lena and Jen raced at a dead sprint to Orpheus' office while simultaneously trying to raise him on the radio, but they got no answer. Lena called Ethan and tried to explain what they'd found, but his team was engaged with some zombies and she was having a hard time getting him to understand. Tino and German intercepted them in the hallway outside of the office, and the four of them nearly collided.

"Whoa, whoa, easy," German said.

Jen asked, "Where's Orpheus?"

"He's out with Thompson and Hedley. Something about something that Hedley found on his video. He left us to watch over this mostly empty show."

Tino said, "Hold on a sec." He called Orpheus' name over the radio several times, but received no reply. "Shit, I can't get him on the radio."

"Tell us what's going on."

The women shared a look of hesitation. They were about to blow the lid off of something huge, and they weren't sure who they could trust.

Tino sensed this and said, "Okay. Whatever this is, it's urgent, right?"

Jen said, "Yeah."

"Then just tell us only what we absolutely need to know."

Jen looked at Lena, who nodded. Orpheus trusted them to an extent, and that had to count for something. She explained everything as quickly as she could, telling the men about the chip, the address book, and the link to the Zeroes. The facts flowed freely, and before they knew it, they'd told the two men everything that they knew, anyway.

"Shit. Duty roster!" They ran to the gymnasium and looked at the duty roster that was taped to the wall next to the locker rooms.

Jen read the names off of her list and Tino matched them up with their team leaders. German took quick notes and Lena started barking orders into the radio.

"Attention all teams! All stop! All stop! All stop! Acknowledge!"

One by one, the team leaders responded. Lena cut through any formalities. "Listen up, all four of you. Here are some names. I want you to isolate and restrain each of them immediately. No time for explanations, just do it." She looked at the list that German was holding up in front of her face, and read the names as quickly and clearly as possible. "How do you copy?"

Ethan was the first to respond. "I have a few unhappy guys here, but we're set." The other three chimed in with something similar.

"Okay, good," Lena said. "I want you to rendezvous with Zulu 2 ASAFP," she looked at her map to find a suitable location, and gave them the coordinates. "I need to talk to the four of you."

She got three affirmative responses. "Okay, so that's thirteen that are out. What's that leave here, eight?"

"Yes," Tino said. "Four are posted, and Germ already instructed them to lock themselves in the nearest guard shack or room. The other four, I have no idea where they might be. And they have no radios. Same goes for the twenty or so personnel not on your list."

"Cam's phone went straight to voicemail," Jen said.

"Goddammit," Lena said. "Okay, we’ve got to find him somehow. Let's get Jameson in the air. Maybe one of the guards can give us a general direction that they went."

"I'm on it," German said. "You want me to go with him?"

Lena froze for a moment. It had just hit her that they were looking to her for orders. It was a disconcerting feeling, but she shook it off. She'd have time to doubt herself later. "That's a good idea. Extra set of eyes. If you find Cam, get him back here right away. I don't care if you abandon the Jeep and fly them back."

"You got it." German trotted away and spoke into his radio, "Jameson, what's your location?"

"Tino, stay with us. Organize the guards and post at least two of them on each Zero. Bring the rest in here, because we might have to search the school." She continued speaking as she broke into a jog and her companions followed. "We have to get to my office. We can do an all call via the PA system. There isn't a square inch in this place that it doesn't reach."

They made it to her office. They had to wait for her to unlock the door, then they were in. Lena wasted no time and grabbed the microphone for the PA. The microphone itself had to be twenty years old, but it worked perfectly and there was no reason to replace it. She pressed and held the "speak" button, but stopped mid-sentence. "Did that come through, you guys?"

"I didn't hear anything," German said.

Jen concurred.

Lena tried again. Still nothing. "Come on, not now, you piece of shit!" She depressed the button with greater force this time, knowing full well that it wouldn't make a difference. She wanted to actually solve the problem, so she looked under the desk. The plug for the PA system lay on the floor under the outlet. That wasn't odd. She'd unplugged it with her foot before. She pulled a plug out of the socket and plugged the PA back in. She tested it quickly then launched into her transmission. She'd already figured out the perfect cover, she just hoped that no one outside spoke to anyone inside for a while. "Attention all personnel within the school, this is a Code Grey exercise. Isolate yourselves within the nearest lockable room until further notice. The following four personnel, call in with your location for further instructions." Lena let out a big sigh and slumped in her chair. "Hopefully, that'll work and not arouse too much suspicion. We've never actually run that exercise before." Lena saw her friend standing motionless, a cord in hand. "Jen, what is it?"

"You tell me. I just thought it was weird that you'd have to unplug something to plug the PA back in. I assumed that you unplugged it by accident."

"Yeah, that is weird."

"So what is this?" Jen ran her hand lightly along the power cord and traced it back to its source. It terminated behind a stack of banker's boxes.

Tino reached down and produced a rectangular box about the size of a briefcase. "Man, this is heavier than it looks."

"Is that the safe from Vincent's place?"

"I think so," Jen said.

"But I never got a chance to even try to crack it."

"Well," Tino said as he thumped the safe down on the table. "Someone did. Look here." The power cord ran inside the safe to whatever it was powering. The safe had been altered to allow the cord to run through even when the lid was closed. Otherwise, it would have been severed. "And that's just half of the set." He held up a heavier gauge cable this time. It ran from the safe to the wall where it joined with a similar cable. Once reunited, the cables ran under conduit all the way to the ceiling, where it disappeared.

"That's the radio antenna. Someone spliced into it." Lena said.

"I don't like this," Jen said.

"Me, neither," Tino agreed and pulled out his sidearm. "Someone's fucking with the program."

"See if you can open that thing," Lena said. "I have an idea how I can get a hold of Cam. If he's following the protocol he set up ... and he's in his car ... he should have it tuned to Radio Lena." She grabbed a different microphone and used her computer to interrupt the automated broadcast. "This is a special message for Captain Cameron Holt. Please call in to the station as soon as possible. Your radio is malfunctioning. Again, this is a special message." She was interrupted by a screaming guitar riff playing a few feet from her head. She turned around and shot daggers at Tino. "Holy fucking cow, is your ringer loud enough?"

"Sorry, sorry," Tino said as he answered his cell phone. "It's Germ."

Lena tried to shake the annoyance and turned back to the radio mic. She depressed the button once more and opened her mouth to speak, but no words would form. Her brain made a million connections at once.

The ringer.

The song.

The indie band that was just way too young for him.

She abandoned her message without resuming the music. Anyone who was tuned in would hear nothing but silence. Lena grabbed the thick personnel file. Cameron Holt had a similar copy. She tossed folders aside until she found what she was looking for.

She hoped more than anything that she was wrong.

One look at the file told her that she wasn't. She said Jen's name, but it came out as a whisper. Jen was still trying to get the safe open and didn't hear it. Lena repeated it, louder this time.

Jen finally heard her. "What's going on?"

"Cut it, cut it." She turned to face Jen in full. The other woman was confused. "Cut the damn antenna!"

Jen didn't hesitate. She unsheathed the knife that she had dangling by her side and sawed through the antenna in a matter of seconds. The antenna dropped to the floor, leaving only a few inches of frayed wire protruding from the safe. "Why'd I do that?"

Tino, who up until that point had his eye on the corridor and his hand on his weapon, turned to ask the same thing.

"He has a kid." Lena raked her palms from her forehead to the back of her head, pulling the hair tight, all stress. "I mean, I knew that he had a son, but oh, my God."

O

German ran to the pad and met Jameson. No matter how fast he (or anyone) ever got to the helipad, Jameson had always been there waiting and looking as if he'd been there for an hour. German wouldn't have been surprised if Jameson just slept in the damn thing.

But this time was a little different. Instead of leaning against the helicopter or lounging on a nearby Adirondack chair looking bored, as he usually did, Jameson was in the pilot's seat, helmet on. The helicopter was already powered up and ready for takeoff.

This time, Jameson had a personal stake in this. A friend might need his help.

German didn't waste any time with small talk. He hopped into the co-pilot's seat and donned his headset. They were airborne before he had his seatbelt completely fastened, and when Jameson banked German nearly fell out of his seat.