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

say we’ll talk about it later? No. Give me answers. Where the hell were you? Why did you leave? How come you hid the Tokens?” The questions flew out of me, and he nodded. His body looked calm, but his eyes were restless.

“Let’s find you some food. Clayton and his kid should be there when we talk. Beverly too.” He smiled. “I can’t believe your mother is gone.”

I’d missed something, and circled back. “Clayton and his kid? Who…”

And it hit me as I recalled a distant memory. The wisp of a blonde girl. Those same striking blue eyes. “Veronica… is Ronnie Belvedere!”

“She didn’t tell you?” Dirk asked.

“Help me up,” I said. It was entirely strange, giving my absent father orders, but it felt right at this moment.

A pair of gray sweatpants sat folded on the dresser, and he assisted me while I slid them on, sitting at the end of the bed. I snatched a bathrobe and wrapped it protectively around myself.

With the door open, I heard something I didn’t expect. Laughter. Music. The scent of bacon and eggs.

We walked toward the kitchen, and Marcus held up a champagne flute with orange juice in it. “Rex!” He jogged over, handing the glass off to me. “This one is just a splash of the good stuff. Your pills…”

“What… what are we celebrating?” I asked, trying to make sense of the picture. Beverly had her kids pulled tight, their expressions grim. Her husband had died. I’d almost forgotten. Veronica and Clayton sat on the couch, near the crackling fireplace. She stared at me as we approached, and everyone went silent.

Except Marcus. “It’s New Year’s Day. Since we missed out on the eve, we thought it might be a good way to ring in the new year. With some tunes, and food…”

I wasn’t keen on celebrating. I stared at Veronica, and her expression said it all. A silent I’m sorry. I had to do it.

Saul was in the kitchen, working at the huge gas range, and he nodded to me.

“Since we’re in this together, Dirk Walker is about to regale us with his story,” I said. “Dad, we’ve been to hell and back, and I can only assume that’s likewise for you. We’re here to stand against these Believers and stop whatever is coming. Tell us what you know, and don’t keep anything out.”

“Rex, can I have a minute?” Veronica asked, and everyone turned to stare at her. After my speech, no one had expected the interjection.

I glanced at her father, who appeared to have showered and trimmed his hair. We walked to the fireplace and turned from the others.

“Who wants another drink?” Marcus asked, and they started talking amongst themselves.

“I’m so sorry for not telling you,” she said.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

She brushed at a strand of dyed hair covering her eyes and sighed. “I assumed Hunter would freak out if he knew who I really was. He was so paranoid. I’d heard from second-hand sources that he blamed my father for being cut out, and I couldn’t risk him learning the truth. I had to find the Bridge, Rex. You understand.”

“You could have told me.”

“I tried in Antarctica, and then everything turned into a nightmare.”

“We’ve had other instances alone,” I reminded her, trying not to let her omission of truth affect me so much.

“When? We haven’t exactly been sitting around the breakfast nook playing cribbage and sipping tea, have we?”

I stepped closer, and our noses almost touched. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. You were the one lying, not me. I’ve been nothing but truthful.”

“Maybe, and that’s fair. But look what we accomplished. We’ve brought our fathers home. Shouldn’t that be sufficient?” She took my hand, and I didn’t fight it. I had no energy for squabbles. Veronica was probably right about Hunter. He had been erratic, but I did feel like his passion had come from a good place.

“No more of that. We have to trust one another.”

She blinked rapidly and bent in, kissing my cheek. Her lips tilted toward my ear. “Something’s wrong with him. I don’t know if that’s my father.” The words were so subtle, I wondered if I’d misheard her; then she was gone, returned to Clayton’s side, grabbing another mimosa from Marcus.

I watched my friend interact with everyone. He was making jokes and cheering the kids up. They wouldn’t know what happened to their father, and I wasn’t sure how Beverly was going to explain it, but I would be there for them. Carson and Edith needed that. I’d grown up without a father, and I’d make sure they had someone in their corner for years to come.

“Food’s up, Rex.” Saul waved at me from the kitchen, and Marcus dashed to the counter, relaying the plate as I sat on the couch opposite Ronnie and her dad. Ronnie. Marcus had called her that once on our trip, and now I felt foolish for not having picked up on it then.

Beverly made the kids settle in the smaller living space and turned the TV on quietly before coming back. She sat next to our father, and to my surprise, Beverly leaned in, resting her head on his shoulder like no time had separated them for the last three-plus decades. I still couldn’t believe Fred had been with the Believers.

Saul washed up and grabbed a cup of coffee, finishing off the group, and stood behind a couch with Tripp.

And Dirk Walker began. “The Bridge was an idea. A theory Hardy had heard of years before Clay or I finished high school. He was an interesting man—brilliant, really. There was a hypothesis of ancient beings on Earth. The Believers, whom I’ve been told you had a run-in with, worshiped a race they call the Unknowns. They feel that these aliens weren’t technically aliens, but the original inhabitants of Earth. They speculate they weren’t evolved from microorganisms; rather, they flew here on interstellar vessels.

“The Unknowns lived on our planet for countless years, far before dinosaurs, or