kalyx-sample

 

 

 

 

Kalyx

By Karen Lynch

 

 

 

 

This is a sample. The number of pages is limited.


 

About Kalyx

 

Charlie has grown up with two undeniable truths: Earth is running out of time, and the people in power have no intention of trying to save it. A scientific breakthrough has revealed a distant, Earth-like planet, and governments are resting all of humanity’s hopes on it. But no one has figured out how to send humans there, and the race is on to be the first to reach it.

 

Charlie lives in a secure corner of the world with her brilliant parents, who are consumed by their work on the American colony ship. In their absence, she’s grown to be strong and independent, and aside from her one friend who lives an ocean away, she’s learned to rely on no one but herself.

 

When she stumbles across something she was never meant to see, Charlie uncovers a secret that could change everything. With the help of her best friend and an unexpected new ally, she must stay one step ahead of a powerful enemy to save an innocent life – and maybe the future of humanity.


 

Chapter 1

 

I crouched behind the gnarled maple tree, my eyes fixed on the stately brick house. It was dark except for the soft glow from a second-floor window. He always left that light on when he wasn’t at home.

A ping sounded in my ear, and I pulled up my sleeve to check the timer on my phone. It counted down from ten, and the second it hit zero, my ears picked up a whirring sound that grew steadily closer.

Flattening myself against the tree, I listened as the security drone did its slow sweep of the backyard.

After a minute, the surveillance device disappeared around the side of the house. I restarted the timer on my phone as I rounded the tree and ran silently across the yard, mentally rehearsing my next steps. I had only three minutes until the drone came around for another pass.

Mrrroww.

“Gah!” I slapped a hand over my mouth and dropped to the ground. Rolling onto my side, I glared at the gray Persian cat two feet away. “Winston, you jerk,” I hissed, though I was more annoyed at myself for letting him sneak up on me.

Winston sat and began to wash his face as if he hadn’t made me nearly jump out of my skin.

I moved to sit up and heard a faint whirring from somewhere off to the left that quickly grew louder. Crap!

I looked around for cover and dived beneath a large Rhododendron shrub. Through the thick canopy of leaves, I watched the flickering lights of the security drone zooming toward me. The drone, which resembled a big metal bug, stopped to hover directly above my hiding place.

Home security drones were programmed to search within a set of parameters, and they didn’t deviate unless they picked up a noise or movement that was out of place. The standard models took video of anything suspicious. The more expensive ones could also digitally tag you and follow you right to your door.

This one was expensive. Its camera eye swiveled in its socket, scanning the area like it could sense my fear. I held my breath as it slowly rotated in a full circle looking for the cause of the disturbance.

Winston hissed up at the drone and caterwauled as if the thing offended him. It didn’t react to him because it was programmed to ignore small animals. It did another three-hundred-and-sixty-degree sweep of the area and flew off to resume its normal security routine.

I exhaled slowly, pulse hammering. Resetting my watch timer, I emerged from beneath the shrub. I skirted around the cat, ran across the yard to the patio, and tapped the back door’s keypad with my gloved hand. The display lit up, and I entered the eight-digit code.

Nothing happened.

My heart missed a beat. The code had to be right. Finley never got it wrong.

I tried it again. The display flashed green, and there was a soft click.

Easing the door open, I listened for sounds inside. All I could hear was the beeping of the security panel near the door telling me I had less than thirty seconds before the alarm went off. I slipped inside and used a different code to disarm the system.

The light overhead flicked on, and a female voice came from the speaker on the panel. “Welcome home, Stephen.”

I flipped off the light, throwing the interior back into darkness. I’d been here before, so I knew my way around. Crossing the spacious living room, I walked down a short hallway to the office at the end of the house. I closed the door and shone my penlight around the room. It was richly decorated with antique furniture and two abstract oil paintings Mr. Palmer had paid five figures for. I studied the angry slashes of color on the canvases and shook my head. I didn’t get it, but to each their own.

I leaned down to pull back the Oriental rug in the center of the room, revealing a twelve-inch wooden square set into the hardwood floor. Kneeling, I lifted the piece of wood and smiled at the keypad and digital display beneath. There must have been a sale on these safes because it was the third time I’d seen this model in the last three months.

Shrugging off my small backpack, I took out my code reader and placed it over the keypad. The digital readout on the device lit up, and within ten seconds, it had the first number locked in. I sat back on my heels and watched it cycle through digits before it quickly found the second one. This thing was worth every one of the two thousand credits I’d paid for it.

It took less than a minute for the code reader to crack the six-digit code. I lifted the door and looked down at a file folder, a sheet of notepaper, and a small crystal disc. I paused to admire the disc. It was one of the newer drives, which could hold a petabyte of data and required a ten-digit code and biometrics to unlock it. It was the most secure drive on the market and serious hardware for someone who used a mediocre safe to store it in. It was also not what I was here for.

I lifted the papers and drive to reveal the real prize, and I whistled softly at the stacks of credits chips. There had to be over eighty thousand dollars here.

Thank you, Mr. Palmer, for your generous donation.

Smiling, I grabbed one stack and stuffed it in my backpack along with my code reader. My number one rule was never get greedy. If you took a small amount, it was less likely to be noticed right away, if at all.

I picked up the folder to return it to the safe and glanced at the notepaper on top. On the paper was a list of six random sequences of numbers, letters, and special characters, which looked like passwords. All but the last one had been crossed off.

Shaking my head, I placed the paper in the safe along with the folder and drive. At least he wasn’t dumb enough to keep them on a sticky note in his desk drawer like some people did.

I locked the safe and let the rug fall back into place. Even when no one else was around, I tried to make as little noise as possible. It was good to keep that skill sharp in case I ever needed it. I donned my pack, did a last visual sweep of the room, and turned off my flashlight before I went to the door.

My hand had barely touched the doorknob when a man’s voice drifted down the hall toward me.

I froze. He was supposed to be out of town tonight. What was he doing home?

His voice grew louder, and I jerked back from the door. He was coming toward me.

I looked around frantically, but there was nowhere to hide in here. My eyes went to the window behind the desk, and I hurried toward it. If I went out this way, there was a high probability of being spotted by the security drone. If I stayed, I’d be caught for sure.

I had the window open when Mr. Palmer’s voice came from right outside the office door. “I must have left the drive in my safe. This damn project has me running in circles half the time. I even forgot to set the alarm when I left this morning.”

There was a pause, and he spoke in a raised voice. “I know what Dev will do if he finds out I brought it home with me. I’ll bring it back, and he never has to know.”

I threw a leg over the window sill. The doorknob turned, and I froze like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

“Hold on, Jake.” The knob stopped moving. “I think Winston might have gotten out.” There was a pause followed by a laugh. “I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”

I pulled my leg in and closed the window as his footsteps receded. Hurrying to the door, I cracked it open and listened to him walk to the back door. This was my only chance.

I slipped out of the office and quietly shut the door. Moving with all the stealth I possessed, I sped across the living room to the foyer where a laptop bag sat on the floor.

I cracked the front door open half an inch and checked my phone. The security drone was due to pass by the front of the house in fifteen seconds. I was trapped.

The back door closed, and footsteps entered the kitchen.

Shit.

I pressed my back to the foyer wall, but he’d be able to see me if he entered the living room.

My heart pounded in my ears. I was wearing a mask, and I could outrun him, but there was no way I’d outrun his security drone.

Winston let out a demanding meow. Mr. Palmer muttered something and opened a cabinet door. The sounds from the kitchen almost drowned out the whir of the security drone as it passed by the door.

I silently counted down the seconds until the drone finished its sweep. The kitchen recycle bin opened, and a can was dropped inside. Water ran in the sink as he washed his hands.

A glass shattered on the tile floor, and the man swore loudly. “Winston!”

I widened the door just enough to slip through and eased it shut behind me. I flew down the steps and across the lawn to the street. The house across the street was dark, and I hoped there was no one at home to see me.

Yanking off my mask and gloves, I stuffed them in my pocket as I started down the sidewalk. My breath came out in harsh pants like I’d run a five-minute mile. That had been too close.

Five minutes later, I came to another house. It was one of the biggest in the neighborhood, but there was no security drone patrolling the property. Like Mr. Palmer’s house, it was dark inside, and I shook my head as I walked to the front door and punched in the code. Inside, I flicked on a light and disarmed the security panel.

“Welcome home, Charlotte,” said the system.

I scowled at the display before I walked to the kitchen where a note lay on the island. Charlotte, don’t forget to fill out your college applications tonight. Mom

I crumpled the note and tossed it in the garbage.

Dropping my backpack on the stone countertop, I went to the refrigerator and pulled out a cooked chicken breast, a bottle of salad dressing, and some chopped vegetables.

As I assembled the salad, my thoughts kept circling back to the Palmer house. I replayed every step while I ate at the kitchen island, one eye on the news.

I clicked through the channels: catastrophic flooding in Myanmar, a deadly heatwave in the Middle East that had already killed hundreds, Hurricane Thelma gaining strength in the Gulf, and riots in Beijing, Paris, and Moscow.

The food in my gut soured at the footage of endless lines outside food distribution centers in Lisbon and Paris. People wore masks or scraps of cloth to filter the dirty haze choking the cities. Soldiers tried to hold the lines as desperate people surged forward. There just wasn’t enough for everyone.

So far, North America had avoided the worst of it. The U.S., Mexico, and Canada had worked together aggressively to protect our food production when extreme droughts began to impact the global food supply. Huge hydrofarms designed to grow crops in drought conditions now stretched across the Great Plains, southern Canada, and northern Mexico. Dozens of coastal desalination plants had also come online in the past decade, converting seawater into just enough drinkable water to keep major cities going.

We were okay for now, but at the rate things were deteriorating, it was only a matter of time.

I flipped again and landed on a wide shot of the international space dock, and the shell of a massive ship under construction there.

“The North American Coalition currently leads in the race to Alcea, though the EU and China report significant progress,” said a smooth male voice. “Critics of the program call it a fool’s mission, arguing that governments should focus on saving the planet we have, instead of putting all this money and effort into trying to colonize one light-years away.”

Nothing new. I clicked again and stopped on a science panel show where three guys with messy hair were animatedly discussing the history of the FTL drive.

Nineteen years ago, the invention of the faster-than-light drive led to the launch of the Centauri probe. The probe had traveled to Alpha Centauri and returned ten years later with data confirming the existence of a habitable Earth-like planet in that system.

Everyone over the age of ten understood the implications of such a discovery, and the race to colonize the planet, named Alpha-C-A1, had begun. Someone had shortened it to Alcea, and the name had stuck.

I wasn’t against the space program. What angered me was how fast the people in power had given up on Earth. They weren’t even pretending to fix it anymore. They were pinning all their hopes on a distant planet we might never be able to reach.

“Technology has come a long way since the probe,” one of the panelists said, “but it’s been seven years, and we’re still nowhere near sending people to Alcea in our lifetime.”

“One of the major obstacles,” the third chimed in, “is adapting the FTL drive to a manned ship. You’re talking about g-forces strong enough to turn a person to paste and radiation that’d fry you before you left orbit.”

I turned off the TV. No longer hungry, I put the rest of my salad in the fridge, grabbed my pack, and headed upstairs to my bedroom. I laid the credits on my desk where my mother’s list of college applications lay. The one for Caltech was at the top of the list, no surprise since it was my parents’ alma mater. They had been talking about me going there for years.

Below that was Stanford, Georgia Tech, and MIT. Opening my desk drawer, I stuffed the paper inside. I’d already applied to my top choices: Carnegie Mellon, UW, and – yes – MIT. I just hadn’t told my parents yet.

I retrieved the credit reader and extra laptop I kept hidden at the back of my walk-in closet and carried them to the desk. Firing up the laptop, I scanned the credit chips. It was amazing what you could find online if you knew where to look for it. Or you had a friend who knew her way around the dark web.

After the scanner had removed the digital tag from each chip, I looked at the total on my screen and smiled. Five thousand dollars. This was my best take yet.

I deposited the credits into the secret account I shared with Finley and logged into the encrypted messenger app she’d created for us. It was one-thirty in the morning in London, but she always stayed up to wait for me.

Charlie: Special delivery.

As expected, my best friend responded immediately.

Finley: Wow! Nice haul. Any trouble?

Charlie: Nope. The security codes you gave me worked great.

Finley: Of course!

Charlie: We really need to do something about your lack of self-esteem.

Finley: Har har. What was your time?

I made a face.

Charlie: Two minutes slower than last time. He came home while I was in the office.

Finley: What?! You said there was no trouble.

Charlie: There wasn’t. He had no idea I was there.

Finley: I think I’m having a heart attack.

Charlie: You are not. How did yours go?

Finley: I only scored £700. Mum came in and I had to abort.

I chuckled, picturing her sitting at her computer, deep in some server on the other side of the world with her mom standing in the doorway.

To the people who knew her, Finley was a tech whiz destined to create the next Microsoft. On the darknet, she was Nightshade, an elite hacker who’d slipped past secure firewalls that intelligence agencies couldn’t breach. Most people thought Nightshade was a man. Others were sure it was a collective.

No one would ever guess the truth: their idol was a seventeen-year-old girl with a curfew and a weekly allowance.

Charlie: You’ll catch up to me someday.

Finley: You’re wearing that smug smile again, aren’t you?

Charlie: Me? Never!

Finley: Tonight’s haul gives us enough to feed the shelter for 3 more days.

Charlie: Only 3?

Finley: Cost of food went up again.

Charlie: We need a new source of revenue. Almost tapped out here.

Finley: Let’s brainstorm when I get back from the wilds of Scotland.

Charlie: Are you really going off grid for a whole week?

Finley: 6 days. Might as well be 6 years. Save me!

Charlie: I wish I could.

Finley: Gotta go. Mum’s yelling at me to go to bed.

Charlie: I miss being in the same time zone with you.

Finley: Hopefully soon. Fingers crossed.

Standing, I stripped off my black pants and coat and tucked them away in my closet along with my pack, laptop, and chip reader. I pulled on a pair of sleep pants and my favorite old T-shirt, and opened the window a few inches to let in the October air. My room faced the woods, and I liked listening to the forest sounds until it got too cold to sleep with the window open.

I detached my phone from its wristband, and it flattened out smoothly, the display adjusting to the larger surface area. Placing it on the nightstand, I climbed into bed and curled up on my side, thinking about Finley and her parents.

Things in Europe had been bad for a while, but until two years ago, the UK had managed to keep the unrest outside its borders. Now there were protests almost every day and violent crimes had been rising steadily. The country was a powder keg waiting for a spark to ignite it.

Finley’s family lived in a safe neighborhood, but it was only a matter of time before nowhere in the country was safe. Her parents had applied for Canadian and U.S. visas a year and a half ago. The only people granted entry were those in highly skilled occupations, but it was a long process. It could take another year or two for them to get their visas.

My mind was finally slowing down when the house shuddered, and the windows rattled in their frames. I bolted upright as something roared overhead so low it felt like the ceiling might come down.

I ran to the window in time to catch a dark shape slicing through the night sky, barely clearing the treetops as it flew over the forest.

It wasn’t unusual to hear Sutton’s test planes, but they never flew this low or directly over town.

For a second, I thought I saw flames licking along one wing before the thing dipped over the hill and vanished toward Alder Ravine. If that was one of Sutton’s prototypes, someone had just crashed a thirty-million-dollar aircraft.

Climbing back into bed, I got comfortable again. Less than five minutes later, two helicopters flew overhead going in the same direction as the plane. I thought about the pilot of the downed plane and hoped he was okay.

I jerked awake with a start. My heart thudded, and I looked around the dark room in confusion. The house was quiet, and a glance at my phone told me it was almost 3:00 a.m. I heard an engine in the distance and realized Sutton must be out there in the ravine cleaning up the crash.

I closed my eyes and drifted off again. I was on the edge of sleep when a new sound tugged at my awareness. It was the scrape of metal mingled with a low, guttural sound.

Weird, I thought, but the pull of sleep was too strong, and I gave myself up to it.

 

* * *

“Charlotte, why haven’t you submitted your college application to Caltech?”

I signed off the virtual school portal and swung my chair around to face my mother, who stood in the doorway to the den.

“How do you know I haven’t submitted it?” I asked even though I already knew the answer.

Her mouth turned down. At forty-seven, Evelyn Ross was an attractive woman, thanks in part to a rigid diet and a lifelong abhorrence of the sun. Her pale blonde hair had no hint of gray, and her five-foot-nine figure was as slender as it had been when she was in college.

Today, she wore jeans, a black long-sleeved tee, a cap, and hiking boots. It was a far cry from the pants, shirt, heels, and lab coat that made up her normal work attire. She was an astrophysicist, and she worked for the aerospace division of Sutton Technologies along with my father, who was a nuclear physicist.

The American Coalition, which consisted of the U.S., Canada, and Mexico, had contracted companies around the globe to work on various sections and systems of their colony ship. Together, my parents were leading the development of the FTL drive and its power source – two of the most vital pieces of the entire project.

The test plane that had gone down in Alder Ravine four days ago was crucial to her project, and she had been personally overseeing the cleanup of the crash site. It was probably the only thing that could get her out of the lab during daylight hours.

“I spoke to Marian Edwards today,” she said. “She told me Caltech has not received your application. I called the admissions offices at Stanford and Georgia Tech, and they don’t have one from you either. Explain that.”

“The explanation is simple. I didn’t apply because I don’t want to go to any of those schools. I’ve told you that a hundred times.”

She tightened her grip on the paper. “Do you know how many people would kill to get into one of these colleges?”

“Then one of them will be very happy to take my spot.” I stood and stretched my back, stiff from sitting too long.

Her eyes narrowed. “These schools all have excellent engineering and science programs, and you can have your pick of them. What more could you want?”

“What I want is to decide for myself where and what I’ll study.” I suppressed a sigh. “You love your work, and that’s great, but I want to do my own thing.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” she snapped. “We’re entering a new age for science and technology, and the possibilities are endless for those who make the right career choices.”

“And what about the people who don’t have a choice?”

She huffed. “Life is not fair, Charlotte. You cannot hold yourself back because you have opportunities others do not. And there are always choices for people who work for them. Your father and I didn’t get where we are without dedication and hard work.”

I could remind her that she and Dad came from money, which had put them ahead of the game before they’d even thought about what career they wanted. Instead, I said, “Just because I don’t want a job like yours, it doesn’t mean I’m holding myself back.”

Her spine went rigid. “Vanguard is more than a job. It’s the most important and significant undertaking in the history of mankind. This project could be the key to ensuring our survival as a species.”

“But not the whole species,” I said before she could launch into one of her lectures extolling the greatness of their precious colony ship. She always conveniently left out the billions of people who would never get to travel on that ship. “Wouldn’t all the funding and that collective brainpower be better served trying to save the planet we have?”

A furrow appeared in her smooth forehead. “I think that collective brainpower knows better than an eighteen-year-old what is best for us all.”

I walked past her into the kitchen, feeling her eyes on me as I opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of orange juice. I poured a glass and drank half of it before my mother spoke again.

“Charlotte, juice is full of sugar.” Her critical gaze dropped to my waist. “Drink water instead.”

I finished the juice and rinsed my glass, choosing not to respond. Ever since I hit puberty, she’d been pushing me to eat healthier. She refused to consider that not everyone could be pencil-thin like her.

She placed the paper on the countertop. “I have to get back to work. We’ll continue this discussion later.”

I waited for the sound of the door closing to turn away from the sink. As far as arguments with my mother went, this one had been mild, but it left me with the same feelings of resentment she always stirred in me. She and I were polar opposites, and she would never accept me as I was. The more she tried to change me, the harder my resolve grew not to be like her.

I headed for the stairs and paused at one of the artfully arranged pictures in the downstairs hallway. It was one of my parents and me from two years ago. My mother’s Nordic heritage was obvious in her blonde hair, fair skin, and pale green eyes. It was a striking contrast to the dark hair, warm olive skin, and blue eyes my father and I had inherited from his Italian roots.

I studied the portrait. We were all smiling, but mine didn’t reach my eyes. It was taken a month after we left London, when I could barely pretend to be okay. I was devastated when my parents announced we were moving back to the U.S. so they could head up the Vanguard project.

I looked younger, even though it was only two years ago. It was probably the hair. I’d worn it long back then. Six months after we got here, I found a stylist to chop it into messy layers that fell just past my chin. My mother had a meltdown. She’d been trying ever since to get me to grow it out again.

Running upstairs, I changed into leggings, a long-sleeved top, and hiking boots. I grabbed my small hiking backpack and left the house by the back door.

The stone patio, with its outdoor kitchen and table for twelve, was a leftover from the previous owners, who had apparently loved to entertain. Steps led down to the yard that had more shrubs and flower beds than grass and was meticulously tended by a landscaping company.

The sky had its usual grayish haze, not thick enough to block the sun, but enough to dull it, and the air smelled stale. We were lucky here. In the larger metro areas, the air quality was a lot worse and most people wore masks outside all the time. We had days like that, but mostly it was tolerable like this.

I entered the woods. The deeper I went, the better the air got until I could almost pretend the whole world was like this. We should be feeling the first bite of fall, but the air was warm, and the leaves had barely begun to change color. Winter would be here soon enough, so I’d enjoy the warm weather as long as I could.

The military had ordered the town to stay out of the woods while Sutton searched for pieces of the engine that had fallen off before the crash. I figured they’d had more than enough time to clean up their mess.

I set off along a winding trail that ran past our neighborhood and went on for several miles toward the ravine. Tree roots and jutting rocks made the trail a little treacherous for joggers, which meant more solitude for hikers like me.

A pair of squirrels chattered and chased each other through the branches above my head as a chickadee sang cheerfully. In the underbrush, a small creature scurried past.

I smiled to myself and remembered how alien the woods had felt to me when we’d moved to Hudson Ridge. For the first week after we got here, I’d stayed in my room, feeling sorry for myself. Eventually, boredom drove me out of the house. I’d always been a city girl, but it didn’t take long for me to fall in love with the Hudson Valley.

I followed the trail for half a mile, before I veered left and started uphill. There was no trail to follow, and it was a bit of a hike, but at the top was an overlook that provided a breathtaking panoramic view of the town and surrounding area.

Thirty minutes into my brisk climb, I stopped to sit on a downed tree and drink from my water bottle. I took a few minutes to catch my breath and enjoy the quiet before I continued my trek. I still had another twenty minutes to go to reach the top, but it was worth the effort.

My fingers toyed with the small charm dangling from my backpack zipper, and a smile tugged at my lips. It was a silver padlock, part of a set Finley and I had found at a street market in Notting Hill. Her charm was a key that fit perfectly into the lock’s keyhole, a design clearly meant for a couple, but we’d bought them on a whim.

I stood, stuffing my water bottle into the pack, when it struck me how quiet the woods had become. No, not quiet – they were dead silent. I frowned up at the trees where no birds or squirrels stirred. How long had it been like this? Since I left the main trail or had it just started?

A chill skittered down my spine. Something about this silence felt… wrong.

A sound came from somewhere to my right, and I jumped, almost falling off the tree. I cocked my head and listened. There it was again, the scrape of metal on rock. It definitely was not an animal.

I stared in that direction, but I couldn’t see anything through the trees and thick underbrush. I indecisively twisted the strap of my backpack. My curious side wanted me to go investigate, while my pragmatic side told me to get the hell out of there.

I took a step back to retreat down the hill and froze when the scraping sound came again. What if someone was hurt and unable to call for help? If I left, it could be days or weeks before another person came along.

Reaching back, I pulled out the multi-purpose tool I kept in a side pocket of my pack. The two-and-a-half-inch blade wasn’t much protection, but it was better than nothing. I sent up a small prayer that I didn’t have to use it as I ducked under a low branch and moved in the direction of the sound.

A dozen yards in, I stopped to examine a spot where the leaves and dirt had been churned up and partially smoothed out by rain. It had rained three days ago, which meant whomever or whatever had come through here had done it before then. I also noticed a few freshly broken twigs and a splotch of purple on a rock. Some idiot boys had spray-painted graffiti on the overlook this summer on a dare. It was possible they had come this way.

Bending, I touched the rock and rubbed the purple substance between my fingers. It didn’t have the consistency of paint. I lifted my hand to my nose and sniffed it. It had a strangely metallic scent I couldn’t identify. Some kind of machine lubricant maybe.

I wiped it off with some leaves and resumed walking, trying not to let the eerie absence of animal sounds creep me out. A hush had fallen over the woods as if every living thing here was waiting for something. Afraid to be the one to break the silence, I walked as quietly as I could, avoiding dead twigs on the ground and carefully sidestepping branches instead of pushing through them.

I came to a large tree that had fallen over and was resting at an angle against another tree, leaving its massive roots exposed. I started to go around it when something glinted in the hollow beneath the tree.

Creeping closer, I squinted into the darkness. A yellow light appeared and blinked out. Movement came from inside, and suddenly there were two lights, like pieces of amber swirling with fire.

The hair lifted on the back of my neck.

If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think they were eyes.


 

Chapter 2

 

A shape exploded from the darkness, all fur and claws and metal. I screamed and stumbled back, tripping over a rock and landing hard on my ass.

The creature was wedged halfway out of the hole, only its head and front limbs visible. It looked like a panther at first, but the resemblance ended at the fur. The top of its head was partly covered by black metal that had a jagged tear on one side, and its once amber eyes, now burned red.

It growled and lunged, a massive paw slashing through the air just short of my face. I scrambled backward, heart racing. I caught a glimpse of long, black claws before the thing let out a pained sound that was half snarl, half scream and fell back into the hole.

Over the roaring in my ears, I heard the creature thrashing in the hole, struggling to climb out again.

Get up, shouted a voice in my head.

I sprang to my feet and ran, branches whipping at my face, roots tripping me. I slipped once, hit the ground, and pushed myself up again, racing down the hill as if a pack of demons were on my heels.

I hit the main trail, scraped and breathless but still in one piece. Barely pausing to catch my breath, I started for home at a brisk pace. I knew the trail so well I could manage a light run without risking a twisted ankle. Every sound made me jump, and I expected the creature to leap out at me at any second.

I screamed as a figure stepped out of the woods, directly into my path. I slammed into him at full speed, and he caught my arms to steady me.

I tried to back away, but his grip clamped down, bruising and unrelenting.

“Let go of me.” I twisted and kicked at his knee, but it was as solid as a tree trunk.

“Who are you?” he demanded. “What are you doing out here?”

He was tall, in his late thirties, and dressed in camo, with close-cropped blond hair and a hard, angular face. There were always military people stationed at Sutton because of the FTL project, and they were a common sight in town. This was the first time I’d been accosted by one of them.

I glared at him. “I live here. Who the hell are you?”

His pale blue eyes were like chips of ice. “I’m asking the questions here.”

“On whose authority?” I shot back.

“Mine,” he said before another voice interrupted us.

“What is going on here, Colonel Mason?”

We both turned. My mother was striding toward us, her expression unreadable.

“Charlotte, what are you doing here?” she asked as if I were the problem, not the man restraining me.

He spoke before I could. “You know this girl, Mrs. Ross?”

My mother eyed me like I was the one in the wrong. “She’s my daughter. You can release her.”

He let me go but kept his hard stare on me. “I caught her running through the woods, and she refuses to explain her presence here.”

“There’s no law against running in the woods.” I glowered at him as I rubbed my aching arms. “And I don’t need to explain my presence to you.”

He crossed his arms. “You were scared. Did something frighten you?”

An image of the creature flashed through my mind, but I said nothing.

“Answer him, Charlotte,” my mother said. “You’re a mess. What have you been up to?”

“I was hiking, and I fell,” I said tightly. “And you’d be scared, too, if a strange man grabbed you in the woods.”

Her gaze narrowed, but she didn’t argue. “Go home, and clean yourself up. And don’t come back into the woods until I say you can.”

I adjusted the straps of my pack. “I’m fine by the way. Thanks for asking.” She didn’t respond as I turned away from them and headed toward home.

At the bend in the trail, I glanced back. My mother was talking, gesturing with her hands. But Colonel Mason wasn’t looking at her. He was still watching me, his expression unreadable.

A shiver went through me. I rounded the bend and broke into a run. By the time I emerged from the woods onto our property, I was panting, sweaty, and feeling like my heart was going to burst through my ribcage. I didn’t stop running until I was inside the house with the door bolted behind me.

 

* * *

I lay on my side in bed the next morning, watching the sky lighten through my window. I couldn’t stop thinking about the creature in the woods. What was it? Where had it come from? No animal had eyes like those. And that metal plate covering its head had looked like armor. But who would put armor on an animal? And why?

The only high-security lab nearby was at Sutton Aerospace, but as far as I knew, it was strictly aerospace research and development. Then again, Sutton had other facilities in Canada and Europe. Was it possible one of their projects involved animals?

Lab testing on animals had been outlawed nearly ten years ago, not just here, but globally. If Sutton was using animals, they weren’t just crossing ethical lines, they were breaking international law.

Did my parents know? They were obsessed with their work, but animal testing? I didn’t want to believe they would condone that.

I reached for my phone to call Finley and remembered she was still on holiday. I adored her parents, but they couldn’t have chosen a worse time to go on an “unplugged” camping trip in the Scottish Highlands. Poor Finley had to be going out of her mind by now.

My parents’ voices came from down the hall, low and muffled. A moment later, there was a soft knock at my door, and my father peeked in.

He stepped into the doorway, already dressed in dark blue slacks, a white shirt, and a tie. “Morning,” he said in his quiet, serious way. “I heard you had some excitement in the woods yesterday.”

I rolled onto my back and propped my hand behind my head. “That Colonel Mason seriously needs to chill out.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled with a small smile. “Colonel Mason can be a bit overbearing, but he’s right to be cautious. They haven’t found all the plane debris yet and some of it could be dangerous. You should probably steer clear until the cleanup’s finished.”

I studied his face for any sign of a lie. I didn’t see one. Either he had suddenly become the world’s best liar, or he didn’t know anything about the creature in the woods.

He leaned into the hall, listening to something my mother said. Nodding, he returned his gaze to me. “Your mom told me about the college applications. We’ll talk about it tonight.”

“We have Dev’s dinner party tonight,” my mother said from the hallway. “Senator Bradley’s coming specifically to speak with us.”

Dev Malik was the CEO of Sutton Aerospace and my parents’ boss. She wouldn’t miss one of his parties if the house were on fire.

My dad grimaced as she walked past him. I almost pitied him. He hated those events, but he never said no to her.

“Then we’ll talk tomorrow.” He gave me a small, apologetic smile before following her.

They talked as they descended the stairs, but I paid no attention to their conversation. My mind was already back on the animal. Before the front door closed behind my parents, I knew what I was going to do.

I got out of bed and dressed, telling myself over and over that this was a terrible idea. But every time I wavered, I heard that awful, pained cry again, and my resolve grew.

It’s probably gone already, I told myself, grabbing my hiking pack.

Downstairs, I filled my water bottle and pulled three vacuum-sealed synth steaks from the fridge. They were the closest thing to real beef unless you wanted to shell out a fortune. Dad said they didn’t taste the same, but I’d grown up on them. They tasted fine to me. I stuffed them in my pack and headed out.

I was extra vigilant on the main trail because running into Mason again was the last thing I needed. I veered off at a different spot than yesterday and began the steep climb toward the overlook.

The higher I got, the quieter the woods became. When I reached the downed tree where I’d rested yesterday, I stopped. This is insane. I should go back and tell someone. If that thing came from Sutton, they were better equipped to help it.

I remembered Mason’s grip on my arms, the cold in his voice. If that was how he treated me, what would he do to an animal?

No. I couldn’t turn it over to Sutton.

I’d check if it was still here, then call someone else. The ASPCA, a wildlife rescue – anyone but them.

I stood for a moment, listening. The uprooted tree wasn’t visible yet, but there was no birdsong or squirrel chatter, only stillness. I wanted to believe it was gone and I could stop worrying, but the silence said otherwise.

“Damn it,” I muttered. If I didn’t go check, I’d drive myself nuts later wondering about it.

I found the tree easily this time. As I neared it, a low growl came from the hollow beneath it.

“I’m not coming closer,” I said quietly, trying to sound calm. I eased off my pack and pulled out a steak, slicing it open with my knife. I tossed it at the hole and winced when it landed a foot short.

I jumped when a paw shot out, hooked the steak with long claws, and dragged it into the shadows. Wet gnawing followed.

I quickly opened the second steak and threw it. It landed at the edge of the hollow and vanished a second later. More chewing sounds.

My hands trembled as I opened the last steak. He sounded ravenous. Please don’t decide I’m the next course. I tossed the steak, and it went straight into the hole. There was a soft clunk followed by a growl.

I cringed and backed up a few steps. “Sorry.”

When the chewing stopped, there was a heavy silence. I was afraid to move, not sure what he’d do when no more food came. Time stretched until I realized I wasn’t breathing, and I gulped in air.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when its head appeared deeper in the shadows, and two glowing amber eyes stared at me.

“Uh... that’s all I have,” I squeaked. I cleared my throat. “I’ll bring more tomorrow.” Just, please don’t eat me.

He slowly sank back into the darkness as if he understood me. I exhaled shakily and grabbed my pack. I was out of my mind. There was no way I was coming back here again.

Instead of returning the way I’d come, I cut across the hill until I reached a brook. I followed it downstream toward a larger stream. This route added twenty minutes to my hike, but it would throw off anyone I might run into.

I was crossing a narrow section of the stream when voices carried over the water. Ducking behind a thick clump of brush, I listened as the voices drew closer.

“We’ve gone over the ravine twice,” a male voice said. “If it came down with the pilot, there’s no sign of it.”

“Then it survived the crash,” Colonel Mason snarled. “How far have you expanded the search?”

“We’ve got teams covering the river and moving west. If it’s alive, it’ll need water and food.”

I was right. The animal was on that test plane. Sutton was experimenting on animals.

The two men passed less than fifteen feet away. Mason wore the same fatigues as yesterday. The other man wore a navy-blue jacket with a Sutton Aerospace logo on it.

“I want people out here day and night,” Mason barked. “I don’t care what it takes. Find it.”

“Yes, sir,” the other man said.

I stayed hidden until their voices faded. I was tempted to follow them, to see what else I could learn, but common sense kicked in. If Mason caught me, I didn’t want to find out what he’d do.

I needed to be smart about this and figure out how to help that animal without getting caught. I had no clue what to do, but right now, the animal in the hole didn’t scare me nearly as much as the one walking on two legs.

 

* * *

Right on time.

As the security drone flew past, I reset the timer on my phone and settled deeper behind the stone fence. I’d been here nearly an hour. The drone flew by every three minutes like clockwork. One more pass, and I’d test how fast it responded to a disturbance.

Pulling my knees up to my chest, I rested my back against the fence and thought about the animal for what felt like the millionth time. I’d spent the whole day trying to figure out how to help it without getting eaten by it or caught by Mason and Sutton’s people.

I’d ruled out telling my parents. Even if they’d had no knowledge of it, I didn’t trust them to not turn around and tell Sutton everything. And the more I thought about the conversation I’d overheard between Mason and the other man, the more determined I became to keep Sutton from ever getting their hands on the animal.

There was only one person I could trust completely. I wasn’t sure how much help Finley could be from halfway across the world, but she was one of the smartest people I knew. As far as allies went, there was no one else I’d rather have in my corner.

The crunch of feet on dry leaves snapped me out of my thoughts. I caught a blur of movement – a black-clad figure running low toward the fence. He hadn’t seen me, but he was about to come face-to-face with that security drone.

I launched from my hiding spot and tackled him, one hand clamping over his mouth. He let out a muffled grunt when we hit the ground with me on top of him. After a moment of stunned silence, he tried to push me off, but lucky for both of us, he was a scrawny thing and I was stronger. He yelled against my palm, and I pressed my hand tighter to his mouth.

“Quiet,” I hissed. “The security drone will be here any second.”

That got his attention. He stilled as a soft whir signaled the approaching drone, and we stared at each other as it passed by. When I knew it was safe, I let him go.

The boy scrambled to his feet. I guessed him to be around thirteen, five foot five and thin, dressed in black jeans and a black hoodie that was at least two sizes too big for him. His hood had fallen off, revealing a thin face and unruly black hair. I recognized him. He was one of a group of boys that liked to hang around the skate park, the same boys who’d had the brilliant idea to paint the overlook.

He swiped angrily at the leaves and dirt clinging to his jeans. “You always hide in the dark and jump people?”

“You always in such a hurry to get arrested?” I retorted in a whisper. “Because you will if you don’t keep it down.”

He looked around furtively and dropped into a crouch. “What do you care if I get arrested?”

“I don’t, but I’d rather not go to jail with you.”

He took in my black outfit and pointed an accusing finger at me. “You just want to break in here yourself.”

I checked my phone. “If I did, I certainly wouldn’t be stupid about it. You don’t just walk into a house like this.”

“Oh, yeah?” He folded his arms across his narrow chest. “What would you do then?”

“Shhhh.” I put my finger to my lips, and neither of us moved as the drone flew by again. When enough time had lapsed, I said, “Watch.”

I picked up a small rock and stood. Finding my target, I threw the rock, and it struck a metal planter on the other side of the kidney-shaped pool with a clang.

“Nice shot,” the boy said.

Security lights came on around the pool as I grabbed his arm and dragged him out of sight with me. We pressed our backs to the fence and didn’t have to wait long before we heard not one but two drones arrive. The boy tried to stand and peek over the fence, but I held him fast until the drones had scanned the yard and left.

Quietly, I got up and snuck into the small park behind the house. I heard the boy following me, but he had the sense to not say anything until we emerged on a street on the other side of the park.

“So, that’s it. You’re leaving?” he asked.

“Yep.”

He caught up to me. “Then what was the point of all that?”

“That was fun.” The last thing I was going to do was admit I’d been scoping out the place for my own job. Finley was the only person who knew about my extra-curricular activities, and I planned to keep it that way.

“Fun?” he echoed.

“Yeah. I like setting off the security drones in those big houses.” I shrugged. “What else is there to do in this town?”

“But you live in one of those houses.”

I turned my head to stare at him. “How do you know where I live?”

He snickered. “This town isn’t that big. There are two groups of kids here: those that go to the public school, and those who live on this side of town. And you definitely don’t go to my school.”

“If it was up to me, I’d go to school instead of doing the virtual classes,” I said. “The last place we lived I went to a school with all my friends.”

I left out the fact that my old school had been a private academy in London where three quarters of the student body were the children of celebrities or diplomats. The others were rich or had scholarships. By most people’s standards, my parents were rich, but it was their connections that had gotten me into the exclusive school. Finley was there on a full scholarship.

“Why don’t you go to school here then?” my nosy companion asked. “You one of those geniuses who takes special classes?”

I snorted a laugh. “My mother wouldn’t be caught dead sending her daughter to a public school. There’s no private school here up to her standards, so I’m stuck with virtual classes.”

He grimaced. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, but it’s not all bad. They don’t care if you skip a few classes here and there as long as you keep up with the material and do all the assignments and tests.” We approached the spot where I’d left my scooter. “Why were you going to break into that house? Was it another dare from your friends?”

It was his turn to stare at me. “How do you know about my friends?”

“This town isn’t that big,” I said, mimicking his earlier words. “I’ve seen your little gang around.”

He kicked a rock and sent it skidding across the pavement. “I just needed some money is all.”

“Fair enough.” We reached my scooter, and I unlocked my helmet. Straddling the machine, I looked at him. “You need a lift?”

“On that thing?” He curled his lip at the electric scooter. “Not if I want to show my face at school again.”

Laughing, I donned my helmet. “Suit yourself.” I started the engine that purred so quietly you couldn’t hear it unless you were within ten feet of it.

“Wait,” the boy called when I eased away from the curb.

I stopped, and he climbed onto the seat behind me. “Just as far as the bridge. I can walk from there.”

Grinning, I pulled back the throttle and drove us out of the neighborhood. “I’m Charlie, by the way.”

“Xander.” He didn’t speak again until we were traveling on the main road at a blistering thirty-five miles an hour. “Can’t this go any faster?”

“Don’t worry. If we see someone you know, you can hide behind me.”

He muttered indignantly, and I held back a laugh.

We crossed over the river that dissected the town, and I pulled into a convenience store parking lot just past the bridge. Xander hopped off the scooter before I brought it to a full stop. He pulled up his hood, which had fallen off during the ride, and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Uh… thanks.”

Before I could reply, a white pickup swung into the parking lot. The faded letters on the door read COLE ELECTRONICS.

“Shit,” Xander said as the truck pulled up beside us.

The window rolled down. Expecting someone my parents’ age, I was surprised to see a young man barely older than I was with a dark crew cut, dark eyes, and a jaw set like stone. The resemblance to Xander was obvious.

“Get in,” the man said.

Xander shuffled his feet. “Ethan –”

“I just spent an hour driving around looking for you, and I’m late for work,” Ethan said in a hard voice.

“You could have gone to work.” Xander pushed his shoulders back and lifted his chin. “I don’t need you to drive me home.”

Ethan’s gaze flicked to my scooter without even a passing glance at me. “I’m here now, so let’s go.”

His tone brooked no argument. Xander muttered angrily and stalked around the front of the truck. At the passenger door, he stopped abruptly and looked at me. “Thanks for the lift.”

I raised a hand. “No problem.”

I watched the truck disappear down the road before pulling out of the parking lot. I started toward home, but the idea of being alone in that big, silent house was suddenly unappealing. At the next light, I made a U-turn and rode aimlessly around the town that seemed quiet for a Friday night.

Hudson Ridge had seventy thousand people, but after five years in London, it felt small. Its downtown was a mix of historic and newer buildings with quaint cafés, boutique shops, and places that looked like they belonged in a Hallmark movie.

Thanks to Sutton and two manufacturing plants on the outskirts, our economy was stable, and the region’s hiking, fishing, and river access drew in nature lovers year-round.

Tucked into the Upper Hudson Valley, we were sheltered from the worst of the climate collapse. Our summers had grown hotter, and we had bad air days whenever smog or wildfire smoke reached us, but we fared a lot better than most of the country. If you didn’t watch the news, you could almost pretend the rest of the world wasn’t falling apart.

Over the last decade, people had flowed into the Northern states from the parts of the country hit the hardest by extreme weather and coastal flooding. The population in many towns and cities swelled until some states had to put a cap on how many people could move there each year. Hudson Ridge’s population had doubled in size before New York started limiting new residents.

I turned onto a road and saw a sign for Sutton Aerospace. My thoughts went to the creature in the woods. I was planning to bring it more food tomorrow... but then what?

What did you do with an injured armored panther… thing that had escaped from a lab?

I made a face. It sounded crazy even in my head.

It wasn’t until I saw another sign that I realized I’d turned onto the two-lane road that led to the Sutton facility on the edge of town. There was nothing along this route except a few businesses, and I had no interest in them or Sutton.

I slowed the scooter to turn around and stopped in the middle of the road. There were lights moving in the woods about a hundred yards away.

I lifted my visor, squinting. Were they flashlights? It was hard to tell through the trees. A week ago, I would have found it strange, but my definition of that word had changed in the last two days.

I turned the scooter to head back toward town. Just as I opened the throttle, a figure burst out of the woods and into the road directly in front of me.

I jerked the handlebars hard to the side. The back wheel hit loose gravel on the shoulder, and the scooter started to skid.

And then everything went sideways.

 

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