Lost Contact (The Bridge Sequence Book One) by Nathan Hystad (ereader iphone .TXT) 📕

rose from the chair, shaking it, and he tugged me closer, his breath smelling like wine. “I have the utmost faith in you, Rex Walker. I know you don’t believe everything I’ve said today, but I want to leave you with a few questions. What if it’s all real? What if your father found this Bridge and traveled somewhere? What if the Believers are right? Keep an eye on the sky.”

And with that, he was gone, abandoning us in the expansive dining room. I waited until the clipping of Hunter’s heels on the hardwood had dissipated, and downed the glass of wine.

“This wasn’t how I expected things to go,” I told Marcus.

“Are you kidding me? Best day of my life,” he said, grinning as he finished his own drink.

We exited the dining room, and I noticed the trees in the backyard bending sideways. I expected to find a raucous storm blowing in from the ocean, but spotted the blades of a helicopter instead. It landed on a concrete pad, and we watched through the sprawling living room windows as Hunter pulled his jacket tight, crossing the yard with Francois directly behind, carrying his bag. The copter lifted a few minutes later, and Hunter’s servant glanced up toward us from the landing pad.

“Good luck sleeping tonight,” Marcus whispered.

____________

We drove most of the way in silence, with our uncertainty vacant from the bits of conversation we did share. It was mid-afternoon on Sunday when we entered Boston’s city limits, and a few snowflakes stuck to my windshield. It was finals week, and I had far too much to prepare for, not to mention booking flights and details for our visit to Venezuela. I hadn’t looked into the country’s current political standings for a while, and asked Marcus to do some research before jumping in blindly. In the end, I assumed we’d be entering from Mexico under the guise of a humanitarian venture. I was lucky to have an acquaintance who didn’t mind me using her foundation as a cover on my more delicate trips.

As I travelled to Marcus’ apartment complex, I saw a group of volunteers decorating a giant Christmas tree in the park. “Are you heading home for the holidays?”

“To Florida? Man, I hate leaving all this for the sunny beaches. I never thought I’d love the season so much until I came up here. Snow, trees, sled rides. I know, you wouldn’t expect it from me, right?” Marcus asked.

“You seem to forget that I saw those pictures of you singing carols in an elf costume,” I reminded him. The roads were busy coming into town, but near Marcus’ place, traffic had eased off, providing a clear line of sight through my rear view mirror.

“That was for a girl, and she was…”

I slammed on the brakes, catching the same black-tinted car tailing us for the last ten minutes or so.

“What are you doing?” Marcus asked, but I was already running from the driver’s side, my flashers on.

“What the hell do you want?” I shouted at the car, my heart racing as I dashed for the BMW.

It had stopped twenty yards behind, and instead of confronting me, the driver opted to speed off, nearly clipping me in the process. A minivan coming in the opposite direction swerved to avoid a collision and rolled his window down, shouting obscenities. I lifted a shaky hand, expressing my apologies, and he tore away, honking loudly.

“Did you get the plate?” I shouted to Marcus, who stood recording the incident with his cell phone.

He didn’t reply for a second, and I saw him zooming on the image. A moment later, he shook his head. “Sorry, Rex.”

Someone had a lot of interest in my whereabouts these days, and if it had nothing to do with Hunter Madison, it had to be a connection to the Believers.

9

“Time is complete,” I told the class, walking through the rows of seats toward the door. “Please hand in the tests on my desk in a neat pile, and enjoy the holidays.”

Luca was the first to stand, cockily crossing the room and setting his exam down. “Nailed it.”

I smirked, watching as the rest of the students dropped their tests, some obviously more confident than others. “I’m sure you all did well. It’s been a pleasure teaching you this semester, and I know I’ll be seeing many of you in January for Linguistic Anthropology.” I hadn’t taught the course before, but it was part of the curriculum I was responsible for now. I wouldn’t have to spread myself as thin at Harvard, but this was the price I’d paid for my freedom.

Cassie was the last one to my desk, and she lingered, watching the door as the other students filed from the class, saying their goodbyes to me. I replied half-heartedly to them, sensing Cassie had something to say.

When it was just the two of us, I stood and crossed my arms. “What is it, Cassie?”

“I know the material, but with my class load… I’m having problems with my roommate, and my parents can’t send me money until January.” Her posture was slack, and tears formed in her eyes. I’d heard all kinds of excuses from many types of students over the years. Hell, I’d had to embellish a bit when I was younger in order to get a grade-point bump, but everything about her composure told me she was telling the truth.

Her hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, her eyes dark and puffy. “Cassie, if there’s anything going on, you can tell me.”

I stepped closer, and she glanced up. “It’s nothing I can’t handle, but… if there’s a chance you can go easy on me, I’d appreciate it. I’ll work extra hard in Linguistics next term.”

I nodded slowly, but my words weren’t as reassuring. “I’ll do my best, Cassie, but I can’t treat any of my students preferentially. You understand.”

A fat tear slipped over her cheek, and she glanced at the door, then to her smart watch, which