Trespassers: a science-fiction novel (15 page)

“
So it
’
s like Stewart created the whole thing, even the name
Limestone Deposit Survey Group
,
”
Web added.

“
Oh, I think that
’
s enough.
”
Stewart interrupted from the front seat, pretending to be modest. But Mindy noticed how he allowed Web to finish the whole story before cutting him off.

Upstairs, Jin was sitting in a wooden chair that he had dragged from the hall into the bathroom. He stared down at the electronic components in his hands. A man
’
s face had never looked more bewildered.

“
There is no
round metal ring
,
”
Jin insisted. He sounded as if he had been asked to search the Gobi Desert for a Starbucks
—
he just wasn
’
t going to find it, and he was tired of being asked.

Tobi
—
still soaking in the tub
—
grinned beneath the towel that still covered his face. Listening to Jin stumble his way through this operation was like classic radio comedy.

“
Do you see a blue wire?
”
Tobi asked.

“
Yeah! I see
that
, because
that
’
s
actually here.
”

“
Do you see it leading to
—”
Tobi continued.

“
Oh, okay, here it is. I see it. I see the ring. Yep, it
’
s a
round metal ring
.
”

This was proving to be even more fun than Tobi expected. He could see the device more clearly in his mind than Jin could with his own eyes. The design was basic electronics. Tobi had seen it ten thousand times.

“
What
’
s next?
”
Jin asked, with all the renewed confidence of a man sipping iced cappuccino in the Gobi Desert.

“
How
’
s the progress?
”
Lyntic said, her voice entering the bathroom a step ahead of her.

“
I wouldn
’
t call it progress, yet,
”
Jin groaned.

“
We
’
re getting there,
”
Tobi said.

“
Good.
”
Lyntic collected Jin
’
s glass from the counter and Tobi
’
s from the edge of the tub.
“
Dexim and I are going to take a trip into town. So you two will be on your own for a few minutes. And Tobi, you could adjust your towel.
”

Tobi lifted his hands out of the water and felt the towel on his head, making sure it was still snug.

“
Not that one,
”
Lyntic said, with a playful tone.

Tobi
’
s hands shot back in the water to find the washcloth resting on his thigh.

With Lyntic in the passenger
’
s seat, Dexim drove a Ford Edge toward town. It had been parked next to the farmhouse, and Dexim had found the keys in the kitchen drawer. Their purpose on this trip to town was to search for anything out of the ordinary, any signs of being pursued. They found nothing of the sort
—
no search parties forming or military convoys trolling for aliens.

“
It looks like they have tornadoes here,
”
Lyntic said, as she pointed out a twisted and mangled water tower that bore the name
JUNIPER
.

“
The least of our worries,
”
Dexim said. But he had to admit the town looked calm and quiet. As he eased to a stop at a red light, he saw shoppers strolling the sidewalks, children playing in the park, and vehicles flowing in all directions.

One of these vehicles was Jeremy
’
s pickup. He was still circling the city, trying to make sense of the date he had just been on.

“
Something
’
s not right,
”
he said to himself.
“
If she
’
s crazy, why am I still .
.
.
”
driving around the city .
.
. thinking about her .
.
. trying to find a reason to go back?

The hardware store was approaching. Half of him wanted to stop and
—
well, he wasn
’
t sure what. The other half wanted to pass right by for the fourth time. Suddenly the words of his uncle sprang to mind.
If you spend fifteen minutes looking for a reason not to do something and can
’
t come up with anything, you might as well just go ahead and do it
. Of course, his uncle always applied this logic to mindless stunts, like diving off the roof of the Best Western into the swimming pool
—
which resulted in a trip to the emergency room and nine stitches in his uncle
’
s left foot. But Jeremy figured the same logic could be applied here, and probably with fewer stitches. But what was it Jeremy wanted to do?

See her again.

Sara was wiping down display cases inside Nathan
’
s Hardware. Business was light
—
only one customer was in the store, fishing through PVC couplers, and he had already said that he didn
’
t need any help.

Sara had sensed Mr. Nathan watching her for some time now, as if he wanted to say something. Finally, he did.

“
How did it go?
”
he asked, obviously referring to her
date
.

“
Good.
”

His eyes asked for more. Mr. Nathan had been her only father figure for the past eight months. She held his opinion in high esteem. But she didn
’
t want to cry on his shoulder about her date going up in flames.

“
We had a good time,
”
she said.

“
In twenty minutes?
”

“
Yeah, he had somewhere to go.
”

“
He probably just got scared,
”
he offered, having seen the pathetic way in which Jeremy had dropped her off.
“
Young boys get scared of girls .
.
. I mean young
men
. They get scared of young
women
.
”

She shrugged it off, hoping it would end there. She didn
’
t want to relive getting ditched. She took solace in knowing that the date was going well before she opened her mouth about the whole amnesia thing.
Why did I have to blurt it out like that?
W
asn
’
t there a gentler way to ease into it
? No, perhaps there wasn
’
t. As she continued to Windex the countertops, she could feel Mr. Nathan
’
s curiosity waning. Maybe he would let her off without any further
—

“
How would you feel about seeing him again?
”
Mr. Nathan asked. Apparently she was wrong.

“
We didn
’
t make any plans,
”
she said. Mr. Nathan wore an uncontrollable grin that seemed out of place. He looked to the front of the store and back to her. When she didn
’
t react, he looked again. She turned to see Jeremy standing on the sidewalk, looking through the front window.

“
I can hold down the fort,
”
Mr. Nathan said,
“
unless you think he
’
s here to buy a hammer.
”

Jeremy wasn
’
t there to buy a hammer. He had spent the last forty-five minutes driving around town and mulling over her words. He was looking for a third option. If she wasn
’
t crazy and if she wasn
’
t toying with him, what was it? It took him more than three laps around town to consider the possibility that she was telling the truth.
What if she
did
wake up alone, with nothing but a note? That
’
s possible, isn
’
t it?
He must have decided it
was
possible, because when he came to a stop, he was parked out front of Nathan
’
s Hardware.

“
I
’
ve been thinking,
”
he said, as soon as she stepped onto the sidewalk
—
the bottle of Windex still in her hand.

“
About?
”
she asked.

“
About you
—
I mean about what you said. About your story.
”

She held her tongue to hear him out.

“
I
’
d like to hear more of it,
”
he said,
“
.
.
. if you want to .
.
. you know .
.
. if you want to talk about it.
”
He was on pins and needles, waiting for her reply. Finally, she smiled and turned for the door.

“
Just let me grab my bag.
”
She disappeared into the hardware store. Jeremy caught a glimpse of Mr. Nathan, who wore a smile of approval
—
pleased to see Sara finally making a friend.

Upstairs, Sara dashed to her room, changed into better shoes, checked her hair in the mirror, and collected her backpack from the closet. She was quickly down the stairs with the backpack slung over her shoulder.

“
I
’
m going out. I
’
ll be back,
”
she said to Mr. Nathan, avoiding eye contact. She didn
’
t want to contend with the big grin that she knew he would be wearing.

Jeremy led the way to his truck, opening the passenger
’
s door for her. As they rode through town, Jeremy got right to it.

“
That note you were talking about, do you still have it?
”

“
Of course,
”
she said.
“
You always keep a note that says
destroy this note immediately
.
”

He wondered whether she was being facetious, but when she pulled the note from her bag, he saw that she wasn
’
t.

“
So that
’
s it, huh?
”
he said.

“
Yep, this is my entire life history.
”

“
When you put it that way, it
does
seem like something you
’
d hold on to.
”
Jeremy was teetering on the brink of believing her story, but he wasn
’
t convinced, yet. The best way for him to determine whether it was real would be to treat it as real.
“
So, you
’
ve been eight months without any memory, correct?
”

“
No,
”
she clarified,
“
my memory has been working fine for the last eight months. I just can
’
t remember anything before that time.
”

“
Right,
”
he said.
“
That
’
s what I meant. .
.
. Can I see it?
”
He held out his hand, and she passed him the note. He stretched the paper across the steering wheel to examine it as he drove. It was college ruled notebook paper. And it was as she said.