Undisclosed (11 page)

“What you need to understand is that our kind has been tracking them since the beginning. They’re everywhere, infiltrating society and showing up in what most of the modern world writes off as mere folklore,” Lincoln said.

“Your kind?”

“Your legends—your myths and religions—have called us by many names, but in our world we were called Guardians,” Ty said.

Travis chuckled and muttered under his breath, not thinking anyone could hear him. “Guardians!” What did these people think he was? An idiot?

“Hey, if it weren’t for us, you’d all be some mindless rats following the Pied Piper,” Mason spouted.

Ty snorted. “Which, I might add, was a tricky legend to cover up.”

“Not as difficult as Sodom and Gomorrah. Now that was a major screwup,” Lincoln added.

Jack cleared his throat, bringing their attention back.

“You expect me to believe those were real events? And you were there?”

“Yes, I mean no—well, not exactly. We were born here,” Lincoln said.

Ty pulled up some images of what looked like ancient slabs of rock with hieroglyphics etched into them.

“Egyptian?” said Travis curiously.

“Even older—Sumerian cuneiform from 3,500 B.C,” Lincoln commented, “and some of the first ever recorded details of our kind. We have fragments and portions of details about what led to our involvement here. Stories have been passed down from generation to generation; much of it though, like human history, has been lost or misunderstood.”

“Ah … behold—the Sumerian iPad,” Ty said gleefully, as he admired it with arms folded behind his head.

“Heck, if people knew the real truth, there would be widespread panic, a collapse of government, religions and civilization as we know it—we wouldn’t want to have that happen, now would we?” Mason said.

“Not me, that’s for sure. I mean, who the heck would be left to serve me at Taco Bell?” Ty declared.

Jayde shook her head. “Boys!”

“Right, yeah—where were we?” Ty swiveled in his chair and tapped a few more keys.

On the screen a montage of video news clippings began playing, each one associated with a dot on the map, and they flashed up on the screen only to be replaced by another: Aurora, Texas, 1897; Los Angeles, 1942; Roswell, NM, 1947; Westall, Australia, 1966; Shag Harbour, Canada, 1967; Belgium, 1989; Zimbabwe, 1994; Phoenix lights, 1997; Illinois, 2000; Rendlesham Forest, England, 2008; Moscow, 2009; China, 2010; Utah, 2011; and others. Travis watched, occasionally glancing at each of them, waiting to see if they were about to burst into laughter. If they were about to, they gave no indication.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen or heard of these events; heck, he’d grown up around the Logans and spent many a night at a sleepover, dozing off while Ryan recounted stories that his father had with callers on his radio show, but he had always taken them with a grain of salt. He would tell Ryan that it was always the same grainy photos, bad footage, shaky cameras and witnesses who looked like they had nothing better to do than make up stories and grab their fifteen minutes of fame. If it were real, surely someone would have better footage, he thought. Or was everyone just so wired on coffee they couldn’t keep a damn camera straight?

“Travis, for thousands of years, Watchers have gone to great lengths to conceal their whereabouts, their movements and, more specifically, their abductions. And yet lately—we’re not too sure why, but they have become more brazen and sloppy. We managed to track their most recent activity back to Los Alamos and that led us to your father. It was then we discovered this has become far bigger than we imagined,” Jack said.

Travis smirked. “Okay, and you want me to believe they are here to clone us, invade our earth, take over our planet—right?”

“I can see someone has been watching far too much sci-fi,” Ty said.

“Travis, it’s slightly more complicated than that, but that’s not the point. Whether you believe it or not, it doesn’t matter. We have a strong reason to believe they have been using the Lab as a cover and your father is an important part of their agenda. What that is, we’re not entirely sure at this point. However, we do know that a vast number of abductees are being held; your father confirmed that.”

“What do you mean, people being held? Abducted?”

Lincoln leaned back on one of the tables.

“We had been following a lead—a disappearance of a teenage girl from Tulsa. We gave her photo to your father. That video you saw was him confirming it was her. He had been told they were mentally insane candidates for experimental testing.” Lincoln paused. “She was just an ordinary high school teen, good kid, good grades, a normal family life. That’s when your father agreed to help us.”

“So why didn’t you blast your way into the Lab?” Travis said.

“Hey, didn’t I say that was a good idea? I’m starting to like this kid.” Mason chirped.

Jayde rolled her eyes.

“They function like terrorist sleeper cells, taking root in cities, towns and different countries. Occasionally we have managed to get the odd one to rat on the whereabouts of another cell, but most would rather die than give up the head,” Jack said. “This was the first time we had managed to find someone on the inside who could gather intel on who, where and what we were dealing with. And from the little that your father had shared, he was on to something big.”

Travis stepped back. He ran his hand around the back of his neck and then across his face. “Yeah—okay … stop.”

“See, here’s what—” Jack began

Travis waved a hand, cutting him off. “STOP! That’s enough.” He tried to gather his thoughts, running his hand through his hair.

“Look, I think you all have been watching a bit too much of Criss Angel and possibly smoking …” Travis put his thumb and finger up to his mouth and deeply inhaled. “I mean, for starters, you don’t exactly strike me as the stereotypical little green men.” His eyes darted over to Mason, who looked like he had just stepped out of an MMA ring.

“You mean the greys? They’re the least of your worries,” Mason said. “We’ve protected your kind from far worse.”

“Hey, look, I would like to help you and all, and, wow, I’m flattered that you would want me to join your space hunters club as it seems real cozy and … I’m a real sucker for a good story, and man, this is a good one, but my evenings are kind of fully booked right now, and you know what they say—five’s company, six is a crowd,” he said, making his way to the door.

“I thought it was two’s company—” Ty began.

Jack quickly interjected. “Travis, this isn’t going to go away and there is more at risk than you, or your father. We can help you find your father, we just need—”

Travis didn’t allow him to finish as he raised both hands up. “Like I said, I don’t know anything, I don’t have anything; and if you’ve got a little vendetta going on here, this is not my fight, it’s yours—so are we done here?”

“Travis, this isn’t a game,” Jack scolded. “You must have something they want or they’re just cleaning up. Either way, they’re not going to let up. It’s not a matter of
if
they will come after you again, it’s only a matter of when.”

Travis paused at the door, his back turned to them with one hand on the frame. “I’ll take my chances.”

Chapter Ten

Looking through a one-way mirror, Harlan observed Scott laid back on a bench inside the interrogation room. Beside Harlan were several of his closest advisors, those who had been with him for years.

“He refuses to do any work.”

“And the data?”

“We believe his son has it. The men were unable to find it. We spoke with Deagan, and … well—”

“Of course.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“A new course of action.”

“Open the door.”

Harlan walked in and Scott launched at him, only to be forced back into the corner of the room by an intangible force from a subtle wave of Harlan’s hand.

“It appears we underestimated your little stunt,” he said. “I don’t have to remind you that if you continue to remain uncooperative, you give me no other option but to seek out other means in which to get what I want. And mark my words, you will give me what I want.”

Harlan leaned in and placed his hands on Scott’s head. Outside the room, Scott’s gut-wrenching screams could be heard echoing.

* * * * *

Travis made his way back along the corridors until he reached a winding stairway. He felt torn. On one hand their insane story was convincing, those powers a little too real even for Criss Angel wannabes, and the men? On the other hand, he really didn’t know who to trust or what was real anymore. He just knew he had to get back home, get back to where he could think, somewhere that felt safe and normal. As he stepped outside, he squinted, raising his arm to cover his face as the sun temporarily stung his eyes. He felt as if he had been underground for weeks. The outside of The Black Hole was as cluttered as the inside. It reminded him of an old junkyard or a moving sale. The entire lot was jam-packed with piles of boxes and twisted, rusting objects that no longer had any use other than to take up space or give people a reason to kill time on a Sunday afternoon.

“Travis!”

He turned to face Jayde scurrying out the door. Above the door hung a sign emblazoned with white lettering—“Military Surplus”—and bolted into place on top of the store was a worn store sign with a small cream-colored missile attached to it.

“Hold up, let me give you a ride,” she said.

“I’ll walk,” he grunted.

“Look, I’m heading that way anyway,” she said.

“I said I’d walk.”

“Suit yourself, but know this—we’re not that much different than you.”

Travis took a few more steps and then stopped. He contemplated her words and then replied over his shoulder, “I didn’t imagine Mason would let me near his baby again.” He turned back to her.

She gave a crooked half-grin. “We’re not taking the Mustang.”

They circled around the side of the store where she led him to an overhanging rusty corrugated carport. Jayde lifted a thick green tarp to reveal a slick Ducati motorcycle.

“Black Streetfighter S. That’s sick!” he said, stepping back to take it in. “Yours?”

“What? You think guys are the only ones into bikes?”

Travis smiled tightly as he ran his fingers along its shiny frame. He slid onto it, admiring the handiwork, wrapping his hands around the rubber grips. He shot a look at Jayde and put his hand out, gesturing for the keys.

“Uh, maybe another time. After the way you banged up the Shelby, I think I’ll do the driving,” she said with a smirk, handing him a helmet. He returned the smile, shook his head and made room for her.

* * * * *

Like most small American towns, the place seemed almost deserted as they drove back through the winding streets in the early hours of the morning.

For Travis, eight a.m. on a weekend was early. He really wasn’t much of an early riser and if he had his way he would sleep in ’til noon, but that was a habit or a luxury his mother made sure he didn’t get too familiar with. There was just too much to get done to be sleeping the day away, his mother would say. Too much of what? he would reply, thinking about how there was nothing for kids to do in the sleepy town except movies, drink, party or get in trouble with the law. And he had all but used up his “get out of jail free” cards.

At this time in the morning there were just a handful of people returning from shifts, a few early-morning runners and a couple of dog walkers. On the back of the bike with his arms wrapped loosely around her waist, he could feel the warmth of Jayde’s body against his own. As the wind hit the ends of her dark hair it brushed lightly against his face, and he couldn’t but help inhale its clean and intoxicating sweet scent. For the first time since he had met her, Travis recognized how unusually comfortable it felt to be with her. Despite all her obvious differences, strangely it was as if he had known her forever. She was different and yet there was something he liked about that.

Approaching his house in the distance, Travis could see a police car pulling away. He knew that the incident at the hospital would have drawn a lot of attention and they were either looking for him or informing his mother that he was missing. There was no doubt of that in his mind. He only wondered now, though, what he was going to tell his mother. How was he going to shovel his way out of this? There wasn’t much that he could get past his mother. Even in her low state she still had a keen eye for knowing when he was lying or trying to cover up something.

He had Jayde pull up a few houses down and on the other side of the street, just in case his mother was looking out the window. Travis slid off the bike and gave Jayde the helmet.

He shifted back on his leg awkwardly. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Not unless I see you first,” she said, taking off her sunglasses and dangling them by her side.

Travis had to pull himself away from staring at her eyes; she really was quite breathtaking to look at.

“Oh—Travis.” She took an object out of her pocket. “Jack asked me to give you this. He said it may come in handy.”