Lost Contact (The Bridge Sequence Book One), Nathan Hystad [primary phonics books .TXT] 📗

Marcus’ eyes had that excited glint in them, and he finished his beer. “When do we go?”

“To South America? I don’t have the money to fund an expedition like this,” I admitted. “Do you have any idea how much it’s cost me this last decade? Not to mention paying you for your time.”

“A man has to eat, even if it is noodles.” Marcus patted the screen. “This could be the answer you’ve been waiting for. There’s no way you can ignore it.”

I was at a precipice. My career was going well, and I loved teaching. This school was becoming prestigious, a real step up for my resume. If I stayed long enough, did a great job, gained tenure, I could teach on panels, publish a few more papers, and build up my name in the community. No one knew who I was, since almost everything I’d done so far had been self-serving. There was also the offer to teach at Harvard, and despite my misgivings about the nepotism, I had to take Richard seriously.

But this was important. My dad had traveled to all these locations. He’d gathered the six Tokens, and one day, when I was five years old, he’d vanished. What was the Bridge he’d spoken of? Brian Hardy was our lead.

I made the decision on a stomach full of ramen and beer. I glanced outside, seeing the window cracked open. Snow had begun falling, and I closed it, staring across the street at the park. A father and son walked by, wearing matching jackets, their English bulldog sniffing a No Parking signpost.

“We’re going to New York Friday. We’ll figure the rest out later,” I told Marcus, and could almost hear his smile from across the room.

“You need funding? I think I know someone interested in this kind of venture,” Marcus said.

He didn’t have to tell me who he was referring to.

5

“Will this be on the final?” Luca asked. I glanced at the clock, trying not to make it obvious I was ready to escape the school week.

“Luca, assume everything will be on the final,” I told him.

This elicited a petrified gasp from Cassie. “Professor Walker, are you suggesting there won’t be a study guide?”

Study guide. I almost snorted, thinking of my Ancient Civilizations professor’s expression when I’d asked the same question of him all those years ago. He’d nearly had a heart attack at the mere idea of making a final exam easier on his students. It was a good thing for Cassie and the others that I wasn’t a bitter old divorced man with a gambling problem.

“I’ll have it ready next Wednesday,” I assured her, and the class made an audible sigh of relief. The bell rang, and I sat on my desk, saying goodbyes to the students, wishing them a good weekend. It was gloomy out, the sky shrouded in thick gray clouds, and it had drizzled rain instead of snow since the temperatures had climbed just enough to avoid winter weather. I preferred snow over the incessant icy dampness the winter rainstorms carried with them.

I wandered into the halls, exiting the building and moving toward the professors’ lounge. It was lunch time for most of them, and I spotted Jessica near the coffee maker, heating up leftovers.

“Rex, how are you doing?” she asked.

“About as good as you can on a rainy December Friday. And you?” I wanted to cut the banter and make a direct line to my SUV. Marcus was probably at my place, waiting for me already. He was a lot of things, but tardy wasn’t one of them.

Jessica smiled, and under different circumstances, I might have been persuaded by her charm. “I’m fine. Any plans tonight?”

“I…”

Her hand settled on my forearm, and she stepped closer. “I have tickets to the Boston Pops. I know how much you like Bach. They’re playing his most memorable sonatas, and I happen to have an extra seat.”

She was coming on to me. I hadn’t expected this, and my response would seal my fate. The last thing I wanted was a scorned boss. I had to assume there was an important human resources rule she was sidestepping. “I’d love to, but I’m actually off to visit my uncle in New York. I’ll be staying the weekend.”

Her hand lifted, and she had the grace to keep smiling. “Another time, perhaps.”

“That would be great,” I told her, not elaborating. I exited as quickly as I could. I must have been crazy. She was definitely attractive. Marcus would harass me for weeks if he ever heard I turned a date down. I needed new friends.

As expected, Marcus was on my front step when I pulled up, a backpack slung over his shoulders as he hid near the door from the downpour. “About time. You know, I could have driven us. Grabbed you from the school.”

I reached for the door handle and found it opened without my key. “Marcus, were you inside?”

“No. If I knew it was unlocked, I wouldn’t have been standing in the rain.”

I pressed the door open and stepped slowly, lifting a hand to keep Marcus on the front steps. I listened for signs of any intruders and found silence. “Stay here,” I whispered to Marcus, and he nodded, finally cluing in that I might have an unwanted visitor. He took his phone out, ready to make an emergency call.

My shoes clipped against the hardwood as I strode for the office to the right, just before the staircase. Using a code, I tugged open the locked desk drawer, gripping my P229 Sig Sauer. I walked through the entire condo, finding no traces of an invader. Five minutes later, I returned to the entryway and motioned Marcus into my home.

“What the hell are you doing with a gun? You know that most people get shot by…”

“Save me the dramatics. It’s for my protection. Our protection.” I ensured the safety was on and considered bringing the weapon with me