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

are willing to kill for it means that it’s important.” The screen changed, showing a protest in London, with thousands of people walking across Tower Bridge.

“What do you think they look like?” Veronica had stayed quiet beside me, and her voice was small and distant. I recalled she’d had something to tell me back in Antarctica but still hadn’t shared it with me.

“Who?” Tripp asked.

“The Unknowns. If they really are from Earth and were here before us, what do they look like?”

“Who the hell cares? I hope we don’t ever see them.” Tripp grabbed the remote from Marcus and turned the blaring speakers down. “Let’s focus on our task. Which, at this moment, is making dinner. We can worry about the rest of it when we’re full. Deal?”

Veronica sat in a chair, placing her elbows on her knees as she watched the TV with Marcus and my family. I followed Tripp into the kitchen as he turned on a gas burner on the stove. “Why do you care about this?”

It was a simple question, and he stopped what he was doing. “Hunter did pay me up front, if that’s what you’re wondering. He also left a pile of cash for us to use, so we have some serious funding to carry us forward.” He grabbed a saucepan and set it on the flame. “But I’ve never abandoned a mission worth winning, and I’m not about to start today. Plus, someone has to watch out for you three, and your sister’s family.”

I smiled, patting him on the back. “Thanks for sticking around.” We got to work; something so mundane as cooking a meal with my new friend was just what I needed to ease the dread at what we were about to attempt later that night.

5

The clouds had rolled in late in the afternoon, according to Veronica, and tonight they covered the entire region. A light drizzle fell against the van’s windshield as we drove up the steep incline toward our destination. I had the Case in my lap in the front passenger seat, unwilling to set the last Token in its proper position until we were in the appropriate cavern. Hunter had spoken of a podium, a stone dais directly beneath an opening in the cavity, and I pictured myself placing the metal box onto it before pressing the final hexagon into the cube.

“This is it,” Tripp said, pulling over. “Road ends where the streams intersect, and there’s a pathway leading into the mountains.”

They weren’t really mountains, at least not compared to the great ranges like the Himalayas, Rockies, or Andes, but they were tall, rising high into the sky. The clouds were low, creating a dense fog. It was chilly, and I zipped my navy-blue jacket up. I was glad I hadn’t shaved in some time, and I scratched at the beard.

Marcus tossed a backpack at me, and I caught it, depositing the Case inside. I closed the bag and slung it over my shoulders, not wanting to carry any more weight than this. My stomach felt okay, but it was a far cry from healed.

“Where the water flows, the pathway glows.” Veronica gripped a flashlight, and she passed one to me too. “Let’s see what we can find.”

Insects chirped their nightly songs, and I heard a few birds call out as we walked along the stream. The trees were lush and green, giving off a fragrant scent. It was full of life here, as good a location as any to hide the Bridge.

Even if someone happened across the entrance to the cavern, they would think nothing of the strange setup, not ever imagining it might hold the entrance to another world inside, because you needed the Case and Tokens to access it.

“My father and Clayton walked this very path thirty-five years ago. With this exact cube in their hands.”

“If this is the right spot,” Veronica chimed in.

Her comment was astute. Nothing here shouted “alien world entrance” to me.

The path wasn’t wide, and Marcus ran ahead, pulling an item from his bag. He turned it on, and the trail lit up in a blue glow.

“You bought a black light?” I thought it was a good idea.

“I figured Hunter might have marked it off with something only a black light would pick up.” Marcus aimed it at the ground for a few steps, then at the tree trunks along the trail’s edge. So far, nothing was out of the ordinary.

The stream ran away from the top of the hill, and the fog grew thicker with each passing minute. My side burned with effort, and I peeked behind us, but Tripp was out of sight. He carried a handgun, and I really hoped we didn’t run into any tourists out for a late-night hike. We’d look like quite the quartet.

The path narrowed again, and we walked in single file toward the cliffside. The sound of the stream grew more distant as we moved away from it. This didn’t feel right. I couldn’t explain it, but as soon as we broke from the forest into a clearing near the fog-covered peaks, I knew it.

“Hunter said Seek a star’s flight on a cloudy night. It’s cloudy. It’s night.” I peered up, but there was no sign of the sky through the pea soup. “No stars. We’re in the wrong spot.”

The echo of an engine carried through the valley up to my ears, and I looked around. Tripp finally caught up, and he seemed worried. “Is that what it sounds like?”

“That’s a helicopter. I don’t think any moonlight tours were planned. Especially in this fog,” Veronica said.

The light shone from behind us, and for a second, I thought it might be the Bridge, finding us instead of the other way around, but the wind that blustered around the rocky clearing told me otherwise.

“We have to go,” Tripp said, but two soldiers emerged from the pathway twenty feet from him. They were tricky to discern in the fog, the bright spotlight of the