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

which Francois had disposed of the armed cultist, and shook my head. “I suppose you’re right. See you in a few hours.”

Tripp and Veronica walked off without another word, and Marcus hung back with me.

“Rex, this is getting heated. What’s going to happen when we find the fifth Token? Can we go home?” he asked, and for the first time, I wondered at that very answer.

“I don’t see why not,” I lied. Hunter wouldn’t hurt us. I was almost sure of it.

“What about texting? I want to talk to my mom and dad. Tell them Merry Christmas before we’re down south with no connection,” he said.

Hunter had ordered us to refrain from any contact with home, but I didn’t see the harm in it. Plus, I wanted to let Bev know that I was okay too. “Go for it. Just be quick about it.”

He smiled and wandered off for his room. I sighed, checking the clock. Two in the morning. I used the washroom, enjoying the normality of washing my face and brushing my teeth, and ended up in my room ten minutes later with my cell phone in my hand.

I checked my email, finding a backlog of messages: some from Jessica, others from Richard, students, old friends and colleagues, and a string of unanswered texts from Bev. I hadn’t been reading them because I was trying to focus on the Tokens, but I clicked the latest.

Beverly – Rex, I’m really beginning to worry. I’ve heard from Richard Klein, Dad’s old associate, and he’s concerned you’re into something dangerous. Call me!

I read a few more and witnessed the growing anxiety creeping into her messages.

Rex – Hey, sis. Sorry I’ve been incommunicado. Don’t mind Richard. He’s been acting peculiar. I’m fine. I’m almost out of cell range, so you and the kids have a very Merry Christmas. I’ll be home before New Year’s, and I’ll come visit as soon as I’m close.

I read the text and wondered about committing to a timeline. It would be fine. Once we found Token number five, I’d demand Hunter bring us home, at least until we figured out the next move.

It was past five in the morning for Bev, and I didn’t expect her to read the text for a couple of hours yet. Instead of going to sleep, I went to my browser, reading headlines. The phone showed me some big news from the last places I’d visited, and I scrolled over talk about protests in Paris and an emerging alien watch in Sydney. The image displayed a group of people, half of them with aluminum foil wrapped around their heads. I was about to shut the phone off when I saw a caption describing a fire in New York.

I clicked it and almost dropped the cell. There had been a fire in the building across from the Museum of Natural History. It had started on the ninth floor, and half of the residents were affected.

Brian Hardy had lived on that story. The Believers had gotten to him.

Before I could tell Marcus, Tripp was calling through my door. “Boss man says we’re moving.” He banged on it twice, and I heard him shout the same message into Veronica’s room, adjacent to mine.

____________

We landed bleary-eyed and beat. The trip had taken longer than we’d hoped, with delays at every corner. Landing in southern Chile had been simple, but departing in the smaller commissioned plane for our final destination in Antarctica had proven more difficult.

A storm hit, a deluge so heavy, Hunter had to bribe someone to eventually let Veronica take off. The subsequent flight had been shaky, but our team member proved how valuable she was, unflinching in the face of danger. I, on the other hand, was white-knuckled and silently praying to anyone that would listen for most of the flight.

“Where is this place?” Tripp asked as he stared into the white expanse through his tiny window.

“Private research base. Their funding recently ended, and everyone vacated a week ago,” Hunter advised him.

“Convenient,” I mumbled.

“Very.” Hunter had a way of getting what he wanted. Whose pockets did one line to evacuate a small research facility in the middle of the South Pole?

The base was visible from the landing stretch, which was thankfully clear of piled snow. Considering the barren landscape, the landing had been smooth and effortless compared with the rest of the flight.

Veronica shut the engines off, and we opened the door after donning our parkas, boots, gloves and hats. It was cold outside. Not just cold, but freezing beyond anything I’d ever imagined. The base was only a few hundred yards from the plane, but in this temperature, it seemed like a deadly distance.

“This isn’t natural!” Marcus called as he jogged for the research camp.

It looked cold and lifeless on stilts in the snow. The lights were all off, and snow drifted along the outer edge, coming almost as high as a window. The complex was larger than I’d expected, with a main building and three smaller portable units. We made for the primary research facility, my eyelashes already frozen, and Hunter stopped at the entrance. There was a keypad with ten digits, and he blankly stared at them for a moment.

“Don’t you have the code?” Marcus asked, and Hunter waved him away.

“Quiet. I didn’t keep notes. I didn’t want anyone to find the information,” he said.

The cold was already seeping into my bones, and I wiggled my toes inside the boots while I flexed my hands. Hunter tried a four-digit code, but nothing happened.

“Come on, Hunter,” Tripp said. “You must have remembered it.”

“Yes, I’m afraid my medication…” He turned, peering past me at the sun, which didn’t set this time of year at the South Pole. It reflected brightly off the pristine snow. He whispered to himself, and we tried to give him space. I was already considering how we could break into one of the portables using what we had on us. Hunter finally returned to the