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

you, they’re not…” He hit me again, this time with the gun in his grip. I fell back, pain erupting in my cheek.

“Stop it!” Veronica shouted, and he turned his attention to her.

“What do we have here? I liked you better blonde.” He traced a finger along her jawline, and I heard a woman chuckle from behind me. It took all my strength not to deck the guy, but I felt the guns aimed at us from beyond the living room. I chanced a peek and remembered their positions. The woman wore a brown leather jacket, and she chewed gum loudly. The other man was tall, a long beard draping over his sweater. He wore a necklace, and for a second, I thought it held a cross, but it was a symbol: the three-pointed star.

“Get your hands off me,” Veronica spat, and the guy clutched her chin with his meaty digits.

“Don’t worry, honey. You’re not my type.” He winked at me. “You’ll tell me where the Bridge is, or you’ll die. Here, beside your good friend Klein. He was only too happy to sell you down the river, Walker. It was almost like he’d been waiting for an excuse to screw you.”

I knew he was just trying to rattle me, but it made me gape at Richard’s dead body. Whatever he’d done, he hadn’t deserved this death.

The doorbell rang.

“Who the hell is that?” Baldy barked.

“I dunno,” the woman said, gum smacking.

“Go check!” he shouted.

“Who is it?” I heard her ask from the other room. “Sorry, we’re not interest—”

A thump.

“Dammit. Gord, go see what that’s about,” Baldy said, and Gord walked away.

The wall rattled, then glass shattered. I took my chance.

My hand reached for the gun, pulling it free from my lower back, and I clicked the safety off instinctively. Baldy tried to lunge for Veronica, but she was already moving. Her fist connected with his stomach, and he gasped but didn’t fold over. His gun fired before mine, and for a second, I thought Veronica was struck. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated, and I pulled the trigger, hitting the target from six yards away.

One. Two. The bullets penetrated his chest, and he dropped his gun.

I started to turn around, but I felt woozy, my vision blurring. We needed to help whoever had come to the door. My fingers were numb, and I felt the weight of the gun slip from them as I staggered toward the kitchen.

“Rex, stop moving!” Veronica called, and I saw Gord on the floor, face-down in a pool of blood. Just past him was the woman, her gum fallen out. Her dead eyes stared at me.

“Good thing I showed up.” I heard Tripp’s voice but saw my father walking to me. He wore beige cargo pants with leather boots, and a hat to protect his face from the sun. He crouched and whispered something faintly. Be the light that shines like a star. His mouth didn’t move, and then he was gone, replaced with Tripp’s form.

I pressed my hand to my stomach, only to find it soaked in blood.

I’d been shot.

____________

It was dark. I realized my eyelids were shut.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Hospital machines chimed in a consistent fashion.

I tried to open my eyes, but they were so dry. I managed to croak out a query while blinking roughly. “Where am I?”

“He’s coming to,” Marcus said.

Bev was near the bed, holding my hand, and I smiled at her. “Thanks for the Christmas present. It’ll look good on my…” I was nauseous, and I quickly understood what it was. Drugs. The IV was taped into my arm, and I glanced at the saline bag, with medication attachments labeled in indistinct writing.

“You were shot, Rex.” Beverly’s voice was warm. “But you’re going to be okay.”

“Do we have them?” I didn’t have to explain myself. My own words were slurry, sloppy from the drugs and dry throat.

“Don’t worry about that. You have to—” Bev moved as I tried to sit up.

The room was private, and I saw it was just the three of us. “Marcus, are we safe?”

He shrugged. “I doubt it, but what were we going to do? Tripp has the… things. Wait until you see what our old friend left us.”

“The kids are okay?” I asked Bev. Obviously, they were, or she wouldn’t be here with me.

“They’re fine.”

And my injury finally returned to the conversation. “How bad is it?”

“Lost some blood, but nothing major was hit, somehow. It passed through you, but the police are trying to…”

Panic kicked in, and I tried to think clearly. Everything was muddled. “Marcus, tell Tripp we need to leave. Bev, find out where they keep the patches. Pills too.” I pointed to my stomach. “We can’t stay.”

“Rex, you’re nuts. You got out of surgery this morning. You’re staying overnight, and we’ll—”

“What? Go home? Bev, listen to me. The police are in on it. Richard went to the cops, and they ignored him. The Believers are deep into everything.”

“We can’t just leave,” Bev said.

“When was the nurse last here?” I asked.

“Twenty minutes ago,” Marcus said.

“Don’t let them know I was awake. I need a day, that’s it.” The drugs made my eyelids heavy. “We’ll wait until morning. After the first rounds, we’ll make our move. Pull the damned fire alarm, for all I care. That’ll occupy the police.” I assumed they were waiting to speak to me, since I’d been shot.

Marcus checked out the door’s small window. “Fine. Bev, stay with him. He’ll need your assistance to escape. Follow the blue lines when you leave. That’ll take you to the elevator. We’re on the third floor.” Marcus had his phone out, and he was checking it intensely. “Go through the hall on this level. That area has a small library, so there’ll be fewer watching eyes. Act as if you’re a patient out for a stroll. Rehab or whatever.”

I laughed, the movement making my wound pulse. “How did you come up with that so quickly?”

“Watched a lot of bad