The Fellowship for Alien Detection (9 page)

The lights grew brighter, glowing neon, bathing them, and now something began to appear, to materialize in front of them. A shape. A personlike shape.

“Crap!” Steph shouted.

Run. Had to run. Haley turned and started sprinting toward the mine entrance. It wasn't far, daylight already hitting her face—

She risked one look back, and in the blur of running vision she felt sure that she saw the orange light shaping itself, coalescing into a figure, and that figure starting to move after them. . . .

And then they were out, back into the sun, but instead of running to the fence, Steph was veering to the left.

“Wait! Why—” Haley began, but then she heard the roaring. Ahead she saw the small white truck that was speeding up the road, right toward them.

Haley slammed her feet into the dirt and sprinted after Steph, who was following the hill beside the mine back to where it met the rocky slope they'd first come down.

Haley made it to the slope and looked back. The truck burst through the fence and skidded to a stop. The doors popping open. Men getting out from both sides.

“Hey! Stop right there!” one of them yelled.

She churned up the rocky slope. Reaching the trees, one more look back . . . The mine entrance. Someone was standing there. A single figure, in a yellow hard hat and an orange jumpsuit. And black sunglasses. He, or she, seemed short.

The men from the truck were pounding toward her.

“Come on!” Steph hissed from the trees.

Haley ducked into the shade. They ran through the leafy, sun-dappled underbrush, back over the shallow hill. Steph veered sharply to the right. Here was the mine company fence again. They both scrambled up the side. Haley felt digging scrapes from frayed links. Her foot slipped out and she lurched and there was more stinging pain—a gash in her palm—then she was over and tumbling down to the other side, landing in the leaves, which stuck to her sweaty arms and shins as she jumped up again.

They kept running. Steph somehow found the forest path again and then they could see bright red barns through the leaves and then they were out in the tall grass, back to the fairground fence. Haley hit it full speed, bouncing against it with her hands outstretched. She turned, breathless, leaned against the hot metal, and looked back at the trees.

No one . . .

Still no one . . .

Steph, panting, tapped her shoulder. “Come on.” She started climbing.

They got up, over, back down, and to the door of the barn. Steph ducked inside. Haley stepped into the doorway and took one last look back.

There, in the shadows of the trees, was a silhouette she couldn't quite make out with the glare of sun in her eyes, but she thought she saw the gleam of a yellow hard hat.

Haley lurched inside and slammed the door.

Back in the barn. Around her the mellow sound of shuffling fairgoers and clucking hens.

Steph had gotten Vonnegut back from Gabe and was looking at her, her face beet red, black makeup running down one cheek. “So,” she said, between big breaths, “there's that.”

Haley nodded. There was that, all right. Whatever that had been. Haley could barely wrap her brain around it, especially with the alarm going off in her brain. “I should go find my mom,” she said.

Steph started rooting in her pocket. She held out her hand to Haley. “Here.”

She was holding a watch. It was black and purple and featured an old cartoon character named Thundarr the Barbarian. He was standing there with a dinosaur, and behind him was a moon that was cracked like an egg.

“This was Suza's,” said Steph. “Look at the time.”

Haley did. It was behind. “Sixteen minutes?” she asked.

“Yeah. Take it. And if you find her, you can return it. Tell her it's from her sis.”

Haley met Steph's eyes. “Okay.”

Steph nodded. “Be careful.”

“Yeah,” said Haley. “I'll . . . um, I'll let you know what I find out.”

Steph shrugged. “If you do find out anything, I'm not sure you'll be around to let me know.”

“Well . . .” Haley didn't know what to say. Steph might be right about that. “See ya.”

She hurried up the aisle of cages, fixing her appearance as best she could. There would be no hiding the cut on her hand. She got a tissue out of her bag and dabbed at it. She could say it was from a chicken cage. That she'd knocked one over after Steph's chicken escaped from her arms.

She ran her fingers through her hair, tucked in her shirt. Checked her phone again. Thirty-one minutes. She was
so
late!

Outside, Haley scanned the crowd but didn't see Jill at the line of craft booths.
She went back in, didn't find me, and went to find security, she—

“Haley.”

Haley turned to find her mom sitting on a nearby bench. She was looking up from her phone. “Sorry,” she said as Haley approached. “I got a chat from work, a patient whose prescriptions didn't go through. It was a whole big mess.” Jill shook her head and stood up. “How was the interview?”

“Oh, fine,” said Haley. “No big deal.”

As they strolled back to the pirate ship, Haley told her mom the details of the shared dream, thinking that was safe to report.

“Sounds spooky,” said Jill. “Any other good info for your report?”

“A few things,” said Haley.

“And so what do you think?” Jill asked. “Are these people crazy, or just weird, or what? I mean, do you think there's anything to all this alien stuff?”

“You know,” said Haley, “there might be something to it.”

She braced for more questions, but then Jill flinched. There was a small horn sound, and Jill got out her phone. She'd gotten a text. “Oh, special request from Dad and Liam for fried dough. They say they can smell the stand from the pirate ship.”

“Ha,” said Haley.

They went to the fried dough stand and ordered four pieces with powdered sugar, then headed for the pirate ship ride. Haley wolfed down her dough and even took a ride on the ship with Liam. When the the rest of her family wanted to go on the Scrambler, Haley didn't join them. She felt scrambled enough inside.

Sitting on a bench, watching her family spin and lurch around, Liam between Mom and Dad, all of them with wide eyes and shouting, Haley wondered,
What have you gotten yourself into?
, and the thought caused a rush of fear in her gut.
You were in danger back there
, she thought,
real danger, weren't you?
Maybe, yes.

She thought back to the mine. The chase didn't even seem real anymore. Still, she'd have to be very careful from now on. And yet, at the same time, some of the fear was fading and being replaced by a kind of rush. What had been terrifying now felt more like an adventure, and it left Haley feeling something like thrilled. She had her story, and the hunt was on.

Winchester, KY, July 4, 10:25 a.m.

The next morning Haley sat with her forehead against the hot window, staring at the miles of leafy trees blurring by, feeling queasy. The car had taken on a permanent odor, of food wrappers and sweat and sunscreen and cooked dashboard. Haley felt as if she was coated in a thin film of grime that even the prickly, jet-powered nozzles of another Relaxation Depot (this one in Charleston, West Virginia; Dad was part of the Frequent Relaxer program) shower couldn't completely remove. Her forehead had made a greasy oval on the glass. She'd been in this position for a while, just gazing out the window. She felt like her body was humming at maximum, adrenaline coursing, nerves fried.

There were a number of contending reasons as to why she felt this way. It may have just been from the combination of plastic-packaged hotel breakfast burrito and bumpy highway. But it probably also had to do with all the looking over her shoulder that Haley had been doing at every stop since Amber. She never saw anyone who seemed to be following them or watching her, but she had no experience in these kinds of things and so she didn't know what to look for.

Plus, Steph had said that if you saw these agents, it was already too late.

Also in play was her lack of sleep: She'd sat up late into the night rereading the dream accounts on We Are the Missing and also researching the UCA corporation. What she had found out wasn't exactly your typical bedtime story. And when sleep had finally come, it had been uneven and plagued with dreams where Haley was trapped in tunnel labyrinths with glowing doors and small hard-hatted figures appearing and chasing her.

Then there were the aches and pains she had from the day before, which had been added to by Liam who, after insisting on an early morning swim with Dad, had gotten himself so overdosed on sugary cereal and hot chocolate at the hotel that, not an hour into the drive, he'd proceeded to have an insane meltdown when the battery on his Nintendo died because he'd forgotten to charge it overnight, which resulted in him accidentally kicking Haley in the leg. Now his sweaty head was slumped on Haley's elbow, a thin string of drool falling from his open mouth.

But the most likely reason for Haley's queasy feeling was the email she'd found when she got online at their last rest area stop.

Haley looked back at the computer. She'd already read it three times but started again anyway, hoping something might change this time:

Dear Haley,

Thank you for sending this update. I've had a chance to read it and to look at the pictures you uploaded. I also read your second email (from 1:30 a.m.! You night owl!) with the information about UCA's mine holdings. I've checked that myself and you are right. UCA and its subsidiaries own mines in far too many of your missing time towns to be a coincidence.

All this is fairly incredible, and, I have to say, a good bit more serious than I think my father anticipated when he launched this fellowship!

What I am trying to say is that while my father and I thought that your field study theories were plausible and noteworthy, we did not necessarily expect them to lead to such concrete and, frankly, chilling results.

Obviously, you are onto something here. That said, I think we can agree that this is all too dangerous. I think what you've found out is already enough for a great fellowship report, not to mention something we can take to the authorities, and so I must request that you return home at this time.

I would imagine your parents are feeling the same way? Honestly, given what you've found, I'm surprised I haven't heard this from them directly. Perhaps you all still feel that you have to continue on in order to secure your award annuity, but please know that's not an issue! You've more than earned your scholarship!

I'm sure this is disappointing, given how motivated you are, but I imagine it's also a relief, after yesterday! Either way, it's for your safety. Please let me know your plans for returning home. I have notified the bank to deactivate your debit card in forty-eight hours, but that should give you ample time.

Best,

Alex

Nope, she hadn't misread a thing. Haley closed the email. A fresh wave of nauseous discomfort rippled through her.

She glanced up into the front seat, where her parents were having fun cycling through the radio stations and singing their own usually incorrect and always incomplete lyrics
. I would imagine your parents are feeling the same way?
Alex had said.
Yeah
, Haley thought,
or, my parents have noooo idea
.

Obviously she hadn't told them about the email from Alex. That would mean telling them about everything else. And that would mean the end of the trip. But this email was the end, anyway, wasn't it?

Because, after the rush of yesterday's discoveries had worn off, Haley had considered the potential danger she was in. Whether the missing time events and the missing persons were the work of actual aliens or people using aliens as a smokescreen, whoever was behind this was not going to want her finding out more about their plans.

Plus, Alex had just verified what Haley had learned last night: United Consolidated Amalgamations owned mines in many of the missing time towns she'd discovered. And now Haley had been at least spotted, if not identified, at the Amber mine. So, if she started showing up in other towns with mines, wouldn't the UCA people realize that she was onto them? And if they did, then what?

That answer was pretty obvious: She'd end up a missing person like Suza.

Haley dropped the tablet in her lap and sighed. It was over, and the cruelest irony was that her trip was ending early because she'd actually gotten her story.

And yet, she'd only glimpsed the surface! Where was Suza? Why were people being taken? What was happening in those towns during the missing time, and what did it have to do with the mines? What was that orange light that everyone remembered? Why was it being put underground? And how,
how
had a very similar orange light grown into a
person
right before her eyes?

Argh, there were still so many questions! And Alex was wrong. There wasn't nearly enough evidence to go to the police or whoever. Not yet. Nobody was going to be able to see that door in the mine without a warrant, and what judge was going to issue a warrant against a giant corporation based on claims of a shared dream about a glowing light from a bunch of UFO conspiracy weirdos? Sure, Haley had a camera photo, but she'd taken it while trespassing on private property! And she knew from TV that such evidence would probably be inadmissible.