Flux, Page 2

  “Let’s see about that.” I step off the road and into the forest’s shade. The temperature drops a good ten degrees. By noon, the temp will be pushing ninety, even beneath the trees. By the day’s end, if Levi lasts that long, we’ll be soaked in sweat. So for now, I’ll take what shade I can get, even though I suspect nothing good is going to come from what we find.

  Levi creeps through the forest with me. His gentle steps on the layers of dried leaf litter reveal his father hadn’t been a horrible teacher, at some point. Twenty feet in, we stop at a chain-link fence.

  “Shee-it,” he says, looking at the coils of razor wire topping the fence. “This electrified, too?”

  I shake my head. “But it is patrolled.”

  “All of it? Synergy bought up half the land in town, and not just this mountain. That’s more square miles than I, or anyone else, can walk in a day. Who got that shit job?”

  I smile. He knows exactly who. “Mount Adel is all we need to worry about. And today, it’s your job, too. But we don’t need to walk all of it. Closer to the facility, security cameras do most of the work. But the perimeter? Today, that’s me.”

  In truth, I don’t need to walk the perimeter. As head of security, I could sit in a chair all day and task my subordinates with the grunt work. But I like the woods, and the exercise. Too much time in the office makes me stir crazy.

  “But we’re not going to be walking the fence today. We’re going to track down whoever let themselves in.” I motion to a portion of fence that looks normal from a distance, but up close, the severed links are easy to spot.

  Levi seems pleased by the prospect of a hunt. He steps toward the gap. “Well then, let’s get going.”

  My hand on his shoulder stops him. “You ever go on a hunt without provisions? Without being prepared? We’ll get this taken care of, but there’s a few things we need to take care of first, starting with you signing a few forms.”

  “I ain’t signing shit.”

  “You are, if you want a job.”

  “Horseshit.”

  “You show me you can handle it, I’ll put you on gate duty. Checking ID badges. Air conditioned. Decent pay. Synergy has a college program, too. Stick with it, part time, for the year, the company will help with your education, and a job will be waiting for you when you come back.”

  “And if I don’t come back?”

  I shrug. “Your choice, though they tend to make it worth your while.”

  “That’s why you’re back.”

  “Mostly.”

  “And you’re doing all this ’cause I broke into your house?”

  “Not because of it, despite it. What good is coming home, if I can’t help the people here?”

  His shoulders shrink. “What do I got to sign?”

  “Standard stuff. Non-disclosure agreement. Liability agreement. W-2.” I grin, knowing that none of that is standard to anyone in Harlan County.

  “What’s all that mean?”

  “Non-disclosure means you won’t tell anyone about what you may or may not see here. Liability means that if you trip and whack your head, you won’t sue them for it. W-2 means you’ll get paid.”

  The prospect of getting a paycheck melts his skepticism.

  “You do good by me today, and we’ll sign the W-2 before you head home.” My heart sinks a bit when I remember that home for him is the inside of a vehicle. We’ll have to do something about that, too, before long. “Now, let’s get to—”

  Before I can finish, Levi tackles me around the waist.

  It takes all of my strength to fight my instincts. I could kill the kid before we hit the ground. But the attack is out of character, and the timing makes no sense. We fall behind a tree, landing in a painful tangle. When I open my mouth to demand an explanation, all the air in my lungs is shoved out by the concussive blast of my truck exploding.

  3

  Despite Levi protecting me from possible harm, I shove the kid away with a heavy hand. Not because I’m angry, but because I’m operating on instinct. Gun in hand, I scan the area for threats. A column of flame rises from the truck’s front end, slowly working its way toward the back. The truck is a total loss. The brush on the dirt road’s edge is on fire. Bits of metal and glass fragments pock the ground, some of it embedded in the thick-skinned oaks and maples making up the majority of the forest.

  There’s no doubt about it; Levi saved my life.

  I turn back and forth, scrutinizing every shadow, every shift of light. The only thing I’m sure about when I lower my weapon, is that we’re alone.

  “You okay?” Levi asks.

  I’m thrown by the question. Am I okay? Been a long time since anyone asked me that, and I can’t say I appreciate it.

  “You look a bit squirrelly is all,” he adds, my irritation broadcasting at full power.

  I force myself to calm down. To breathe. To think.

  “What did you see?” I ask.

  “Brick of C4,” he says, dusting himself off. “Just sitting on the hood. I’m okay, too, by the way.”

  “Sorry,” I say, collecting myself. Kid’s right. I am squirrelly. Been a while since I’ve seen any kind of action. I like to believe I’m ready for anything, but my feathers are fucking ruffled like an ostrich in a tornado. “And thanks. You’ve got good reflexes—and instincts.”

  “Geez,” the kids says with a grin, “I wasn’t asking for a verbal blowjob.”

  I chuckle, despite the fact that my truck—not a company vehicle—is melting into slag, the heat of it emanating into the forest. “How do you know what C4 looks like?”

  “Just cause I live in a car doesn’t mean I’ve never watched a movie or played Call of Duty. Was a gray brick. Size of my hand. I wouldn’t have noticed it if the red light hadn’t started blinking.”

  “It was blinking?”

  “That mean something?”

  Explosives generally only have lights on them to reveal whether or not they’re armed. A blinking red light serves no real purpose…unless... “They weren’t trying to kill us.”

  “Sure about that?” Levi wipes his arm across his sweaty forehead. The heat from the blaze has raised the temperature.

  I’m not, and he’s right to be doubtful. Warning or not, the blast could have killed us both. That he spotted the explosive was luck. If he hadn’t, we might both be dead. Whoever did this might not have wanted to kill us, but they were willing to take the risk.

  “What now?” Levi asks.

  I dig into my pocket, retrieving my cellphone. With a click, swipe, and a tap, I call Synergy’s security office. It’s manned around the clock. After the first two rings, generated by the phone to keep people from growing impatient with the connection time, I expect the call to be answered immediately. When it’s not, I wonder if they’ve already detected the explosion. There aren’t any cameras this far from the facility, but the boom was loud enough to hear for miles around—even with the trees deflecting the soundwaves. Either way, there should still be someone manning the security office. Of all the personnel under my command, only Kuzneski, Brown, and Harper are gun-toting former operators. The rest carry tasers and sit at desks.

  Unless…what happened to me is happening up there. I look up the treelined slope of Adelvdiyi mountain, known as ‘Adel’ to locals. It means ‘the mountain that shakes,’ and while the area isn’t known for its geological activity, I experienced the mountain’s shaking once in my life. The day before…

  I force my thoughts out of the past.

  Far above, beyond my vision, Synergy’s facility—most of which is underground—might be under siege. I don’t know what they’re working on. It’s above my pay grade, and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t understand it, but the kind of security they have in place means it’s valuable.

  The ringing stops. It’s followed by a moment of silence, during which I say, “Hello? Cassie?”

  A shriek forces the phone away from my ear. For a moment I’m afraid the sound is coming from Cassie, the only membe
r of the security team I address by her first name. That’s mostly because we’ve been close friends for as long as I can remember. She was one of the three locals to land a job at Synergy. Like everyone else, she was dubious about the secretive mega-corporation moving into town, but she trusted me. And now she might be in danger.

  My jangled nerves calm when the electric screech continues far longer than any person could manage.

  “The hell is that?” Levi asks, looking at the phone.

  “Some kind of interference,” I guess, then I dial 911 and get the same results. “Looks like we’re on our own.”

  “Would you say this is an average day on the job?” Levi asks, following me as I head back toward the road, giving the burning vehicle a wide berth. “Because I’m starting to think living in a car might be better.”

  Standing in the road, I follow the column of dark smoke rising high into the air. Black Creek is a small, struggling town, but the fire department is dedicated and professional. It won’t be long before they spot the smoke and sound the alarm. But they won’t really understand the situation unless someone tells them.

  “Need you to stay with the truck until help arrives,” I say. “Tell them about the bomb. Tell them I need help. The kind with guns.”

  “Like shit I will,” Levi says. “I’m sticking with you.”

  I open my mouth to argue my point, but he beats me to it. “First of all, we don’t know how long it’ll take for someone to get here. Wind could shift and maybe no one will see it. I ain’t waitin’ out here all day. Secondly, whoever did this could be lurking around. Unless you’re willing to give me that gun, I’m sticking with the man who’s holding it. Pretty sure you know this already, but C-4 ain’t exactly standard ordnance for anyone in Harlan County, and it sure as shit ain’t for huntin’.”

  “Starting to get tired of you making good points and doing the right thing,” I say. “But we’re going to have to haul ass, two miles, mostly uphill, and you need to keep up. Think you can handle that?”

  “I’m not a quarterback,” he says. “Wide receiver. Try not to slow me down.”

  The rough, dry surface of the road is not easy on the legs. The terrain is uneven and hard, pocked with divots and rocks exposed by the previous spring’s rain runoff. As uncomfortable as the road was to drive, it’s harder to run. Fueled by pride, I keep my complaints to myself, as does Levi.

  I’m still not entirely sure I’ve made the right choice, trusting a kid willing to break the law, even if it is for a good reason. But he’s shown himself to be resourceful and resilient. Not many people could survive a bombing and then volunteer for an uphill run toward danger. His hands were shaking a bit, back by the truck, but he tamped down that nervous energy with a few firm squeezes.

  When Levi slows to a stop, breathing hard, I wonder if he’s misjudged his physical prowess. He’s an athlete, but years of being underfed can reduce stamina, particularly when trying something new, like running up a mountainside.

  “Need a break?” I ask, even though it’s been just five minutes.

  “You don’t hear that?” he asks, lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.

  “Hear wha—” A faint buzzing, like a swarm of angry bees, tickles my ears. I attempt to locate where it’s coming from, turning my head side to side, but all I can really determine is that it’s coming from above.

  “Sounds electrical,” Levi says.

  As the noise grows louder, I can make out the crackle and snaps of arcing electricity. But there is nothing in these woods that could produce that kind of sound. No buildings. No generators. Synergy’s electrical cables are underground. There’s no reason for anything to be out here. What we’re on isn’t even a maintenance road. It’s a rotting holdover from the old mine. I take this road, on occasion, to see how long it takes my staff to detect and stop me. That’s what I tell them. The truth is, my father used to take this road to the mine every day. It’s a straight shot from the house to the old parking lot, and we hunted these woods most weekends. Makes me feel close to him. Same with patrolling the forest. I left that off my application, but Cassie knows. Her father worked in the mine, too, though he escaped with his life. He passed, a few years back, from cancer, and now Cassie supports her mom.

  Thinking of Cassie reminds me that she, and everyone else under my care, might be in danger. I take three more steps uphill, toward the sound, and then stop when it grows louder.

  Commingling with the buzz is a deep resounding hum and a rumble, like the horns and percussion bits of an orchestra have decided to drown out the world.

  Levi looks at me, genuine fear in his eyes, begging me to tell him I know what this is, that everything’s going to be okay.

  I can’t do that for him. My heart pounds, surging adrenaline into my body, telling me to fight or flee, but there is no escape, and nothing to attack.

  I glance uphill and nearly vomit as my vision distorts. The world becomes a kaleidoscope of color, like I’m seeing the mountain above through rippling water.

  What’s happening? I wonder, and then I mentally correct the question to: What did they do?

  Levi and I fall to our knees, hands clasped to our ears. He might be screaming, I can’t really hear over the sound, but I know I am. I can’t hear my voice, either, but I can feel the scream’s force scratching my throat.

  The wall of sound passes like a freight train, the wail fading into the distance below us.

  I push myself up and I’m struck by a wave of nausea. It rolls through me, starting at my head and running out my feet. Levi pitches forward and vomits. “Sweet fancy Moses on buttered toast. The fuck was that?”

  Pretty sure he knows I’m as clueless as he is, so I don’t bother answering. If that was from some kind of explosion, I can only imagine how much more powerful it was at the epicenter. At a mile and a half out, that shockwave was nearly enough to peel skin from bones. I can’t imagine there’s much left of Synergy.

  “S’pose we’ll be burying people more than rescuing them,” Levi says, “don’t you think?”

  I push myself up, unable to answer. Though the distorted view of the mountaintop has faded, something seems off. The air is different. It’s a good twenty degrees cooler. Smells off, too. Not bad, just different. Subtle in the way only hunters might notice.

  “I reckon you’re right about that,” I finally say. “And it’s gonna be more than we can handle.”

  I turn back, thinking about the fastest way to reach help. It’s a three-mile hike behind us, but all downhill. Another half mile to my house. We can use the landline to call for help and be back at the facility inside an hour. I’m about to reveal my plan when I notice, once again, that the view is wrong.

  Only this time, I know why. “The smoke is gone.”

  4

  We stand there for a full minute, side by side in a kind of perplexed trance. We scan the sky for any hint of smoke, but it’s just not there. The bright blue sky is unmarred.

  “Smoke don’t just disappear,” Levi says. “Not like that. Even if someone put the fire out.”

  “The clouds,” I say.

  “Ain’t no clouds, neither.”

  “That’s the point,” I say. “There were clouds. On our way up.” I start noticing more aberrations. They’re subtle at first, but once I see it, I can’t not see it, and I can’t keep myself from reacting. Unsteady on my feet, I lean forward, hands on knees, mind reeling.

  “You gonna puke?” Levi asks.

  “The leaves,” I say, glancing toward him. From my lowered position, I can see his arm, the hair standing on end as goosebumps cover his skin. “The air.”

  I give him a moment to take it all in, and then I add another observation. “The smell.”

  Levi takes a deep breath and whispers, “Snap my garters, it ain’t summer no more.”

  Given that the trees around us have just started changing color, I’d place us around mid-October, which means we’ve leapt two months forward in time, or—
<
br />   “Must have been that shit that passed by. Did something to the trees. To the air.”

  Or that. And while that’s the most likely answer, it’s also horrifying. Means the explosion’s effect altered not just the trees, and the smoke, but also the clouds beyond. How far did the effect stretch? And if it changed the trees, what did it do to us?

  “That’d be my guess,” I say, trying to sound confident, leaving out the fact that the rough dirt road has been smoothed over, all signs of erosion mostly wiped away. I can almost wrap my mind around something affecting tree leaves, and a shockwave blowing away smoke and dispersing clouds, but how could it smooth out a worn path?

  “Let’s move,” I say, starting back downhill. “Double time.”

  We jog in silence, gravity propelling us forward. And for a few minutes, I think our run for help is going to be uneventful. Then I realize we should have passed the truck, not to mention the scorched earth, and trees surrounding it. I slow to a stop and turn back.

  “What now?” Levi says, skidding to a stop, fear in his voice. “You hear something?”

  “You seen the truck?” I ask.

  Levi stands beside me, hands on hips, catching his breath. “Ain’t that the berries…”

  I smile. When he’s agitated, Levi is a treasure trove of Appalachian charm.

  He offers a theory. “Maybe it was, I don’t know, launched by the shockwave?”

  It’s not a bad idea, but the logic just doesn’t add up. “If that were the case, we’d have both been airborne, too.”

  He folds his arms over his chest, the cooler air taking a toll on his exposed skin. “I reckon you can’t tell me, and maybe this ain’t the time to ask, but what is Synergy working on?”

  “Right time.” I say with a dip of my head. “And while I couldn’t tell you if I knew, I actually don’t know, and that I can tell you.”

  I start backpedaling down the road. “Just keep your eyes open for debris. If it was launched, it’ll be somewhere downhill.” We shift our attention forward again and follow the road. Instead of running, we maintain the cautious creep of a predator on the prowl…or that of nervous prey. I’m not yet sure which we are, but I can’t shake the feeling that we are royally screwed.