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

was on the ground, unmoving, and Tripp fired at the other two. I joined him, trying not to stumble on the rocky ground as I held the gun up, crossing the open space.

His assault rifle barked out bullets, and I fired at the man on the right, seeing Tripp’s target was the adjacent soldier.

I missed the first three shots, and it gave my target enough time to return fire. I ducked, sliding on the snow as I fell. Tripp was still running, and I rolled around, taking aim again. I was facing the man, thirty yards away, and he was a much bigger bullseye than me.

His fire shot the ground a yard in front of me in a burst, and I stopped pulling the trigger, hoping he thought he’d hit me. I glanced to see Tripp’s target fall to the ground, a red spray misting the snow around him.

“Drop it!” Tripp called. The guy who’d just been trying to kill me spun to face Tripp, and he snarled a remark I couldn’t hear. “I said drop it!”

Another plane’s engines roared from above, and I took a second to peer at the sky. It was Hunter and Veronica.

Marcus arrived behind me, holding the gun as I’d taught him. “You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

Tripp was still yelling, but the man was unrelenting. Tripp jogged in the opposite direction, leaving us in the open. I took aim at the man’s chest, trying to compensate for the wind and distance, but really, it was dumb luck that made the second tap of the trigger strike home. The man’s gun went off as his other hand flung to his neck.

Marcus screamed as an errant bullet hit him, and I jumped to my feet, knocking my friend to the ground. The firing ceased, and I peeked to see the Believer drop his gun; blood soaked his hand as he pressed it to his collar.

Tripp was on him, kicking the weapon away and kneeling at the guy’s shoulders. He shook the man as he interrogated him, but the man’s chin lolled to the side. He was dead.

Marcus was hit, his leg bleeding at the thigh, and I wrapped my arm under his, helping him stay upright. He muttered and swore a few times, his thick layers of clothing blocking my view of the wound. “He shot me!” Marcus shrieked, and laughed, a hair-raising cackle.

“You’re going to be fine, Marcus. Look, Veronica landed.” I pointed to the plane directing toward us. In all the excitement, I’d forgotten about the pilot of the other plane. I grabbed for my radio and tried to use it. Nothing. Then I spotted the hole in my pocket and inhaled the scent of burning electronics. “He shot me too.” Saved by a radio. I dropped it. “Tripp, we need to warn them. There’s still another…”

The gunshot rang out loudly, causing us all to spin around. The van still burned, and the cultist we’d assumed had been killed in the initial explosion was on his feet, stalking us with an assault rifle raised.

I quickly stole a glance at our airplane and saw the figure creeping up behind it. “Veronica!” I called, but they were too far away, the wind coming from the opposite direction.

“Drop your weapons,” the man near us said gruffly. He was limping, and a section of his jacket was singed. Despite the circumstances, my body was telling me I couldn’t last in this cold for much longer. My breaths were labored, my feet and fingers numb. My friends didn’t look any better than I felt.

“Why would we do that?” Tripp asked.

“We can all leave here alive,” the guy said, and I thought his voice sounded recognizable. “My companion will be bringing your friends over, and we’ll make this trade.”

I saw Veronica and Hunter being ordered out of their plane by the fourth Believer, and hoped our pilot wouldn’t do anything rash. These guys meant business, and we’d already killed two of their allies. The fact that I’d shot and killed a man didn’t quite register in my brain. I was too cold, too concerned for my friends.

“We’re not giving you the Tokens,” I told him.

He hobbled closer, his gun unwavering in his grip. “I think you are.”

We stood in a stalemate as Hunter Madison and Veronica arrived a few minutes later. She offered me an apologetic glance, but Hunter’s eyes were wild as he surveyed the damage. Our gazes locked for an instant, and he finally spoke.

“You can have the Tokens,” Hunter said.

The two remaining cult members went to stand near one another, with Hunter and Veronica still under the gun. “Good. Then we’ll let you live.” I struggled to recall the voice.

Hunter seemed to clue in. He turned to face the man and slapped his own palms on his thighs. “Francois! How dare you betray me!”

And it all suddenly made sense. The fact that the Believers always seemed to know where we were, or perhaps where we’d been. Francois must have been in contact with Hunter, and he was working for the Believers.

“You’re surprised? I never was much of an actor.” Francois peeled his mask off; his normally slicked dark hair was messy and clotted with sweat despite the freezing cold.

“Twenty years. You’ve worked for me for two damned decades, and now you’re screwing me over,” Hunter muttered. “Did they pay you off?”

Francois laughed loudly. “You think I’ve been bribed? I’ve been with them this entire time. Did you trust the Believers would let you escape and not keep tabs on you? They knew this day would come. That your obsession would lead them to the Bridge.”

“Even if you take the Tokens, you won’t have the Bridge,” Hunter said. “You don’t know the location. Not to mention the sixth Token.”

Francois’ composure fractured for a moment, but he regained it. “That is all irrelevant, Hunter. You see… we only need to prevent you from accessing the Bridge. The Unknowns cannot be stopped, not with the Bridge sealed. But you were never