Then we get to the hidden goodies. All sorts of compartments inside the cabin have guns, first-aid kits, plasma, and lots of electronic gizmos. And concealed external pods that open up to deploy drones, chain guns, rocket launchers, spike strips, and more. We can roll up to any kind of party and start the fun and games. They even have an autonomous drive option, though I couldn’t begin to imagine any of us wanting to use it — although on reflection, it might be funny to have Ghost sit in the driver’s seat and let the car roll through town for an hour or so. Church would be pissed. I’d have to think about it, because the idea was beginning to feel like a moral imperative.
We walked over to the Land Rover.
“Driving,” said Top, not leaving it open to discussion.
“Shotgun,” said Bunny, and I didn’t argue.
“Not calling it Betty damn Boop, though,” Top said under his breath as he popped the lock on the back. Ghost wagged his bushy white tail and climbed in and over the seats to claim the middle row as his domain. I climbed in beside him and he looked deeply imposed-upon.
Bunny leaned over and whispered in Top’s ear. “Betty Boop.”
We drove off.
INTERLUDE THIRTEEN
It was the screams that woke Valen. Even without his hearing aid they were so high and shrill that they stabbed at him all the way down deep inside his dreams.
He sprang awake, swinging a punch at the green and scaly monster he’d been fighting in the nightmare, but his fist hit nothing and the effort sent him toppling onto the cabin floor. But Valen had lived too long on the edge to let surprise or stupor own him, and he sprang up like a cat, froze, listened to the night, and then launched himself into motion. He was out the door dressed only in pajama bottoms but with a GSh-18 9mm in his fist.
Everyone else was erupting from cabins and tents all through the forested area near the cavern entrance. He saw Marguerite hurriedly belting a robe, and beyond her Svoboda, looking like a startled heron, blinking at the darkness and looking in the wrong direction. Then Valen turned and gaped at what loomed in the distance. Down the path, closest to the entrance, was the tent where Rig had been working.
It was on fire, totally engulfed and raging.
But the fire burned a fierce and ugly green.
“Out of my way,” growled Valen, shoving people to one side as he ran. “Everyone get back to your quarters.”
No one listened, of course. How could they when the world was being turned on its head?
Valen raced to the clearing with the tent and then jerked to a stop twenty feet away. The tent was not burning in any normal way. The top had ripped open and something like a beam of rippling green light shot hundreds of feet into the air. The fabric of the tent had become nearly transparent because of the sheer intensity of whatever was going on inside. Ari Kostas was sprawled like a starfish on the ground with his clothes shredded and every inch of exposed skin flash-burned. His eyes were open and he was panting, but there was no trace of intelligence or recognition to be seen. Ari’s mouth worked like a fish’s, speaking words that made no sense at all. Without his hearing aid, Valen could barely make out the sounds, but none of them sounded like they were in any language he knew.
“Ph’nglui mglw’nafh… Cthulhu R’lyeh… wgah’nagl… fhtagn…”
Bloody drool ran from the corners of Ari’s mouth and he was weeping red tears.
Inside the tent, silhouetted by the green light, was Rig. He stood with his head thrown back and his body gone impossibly rigid.
And he was floating inches above the floor, surrounded by the fiery glow.
“Oh my God, no!” Valen turned just in time to intercept Marguerite as she ran for the fluttering tent flap. He grabbed her in a bear hug and had to pick her up to drag her back, and he was not a second too soon, because there was a massive explosion — not of fire but of air. It flattened trees, tore plants from their roots, ripped all of the surrounding tents to shreds, and flung the dig team into the air. Valen and Marguerite were already turning, falling, when the blast hit them.
The wave of air swept outward across the entire island, carrying with it the intense green light. The blast was so powerful that it went far beyond their remote camp and swept across the entire ten square miles of the island of Tuvalu. All ten thousand people living and vacationing on the island were shocked awake by the force of the blast.
Back at the dig site, Valen and Marguerite lay bruised and bleeding and dazed. Valen hung on the very edge of consciousness, while Marguerite was out, her forehead swelling from where a heavy branch had struck her.
The tent was nothing but rags fluttering on twisted poles. The guards stationed there were dead, half their skin ripped away. Of Rig, no sign at all was ever found. The table on which he’d been assembling the machine was slag.
The machine itself, though, sat whole and complete, glowing with some inexplicable power, humming with energy. Valen stared at it, seeing that it was whole and untouched and bizarre and alien.
“Wh-what…?” stammered Valen.
It was then that the earthquake began.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
It was still raining all across the Eastern Seaboard. A steady downpour that fell in straight lines because there was no wind to push it. Morning looked like twilight, and even with the heater on there was a sense of deep cold. Not the numbing cold of an icy winter day, but the kind of soaking cold that keeps all of your nerve endings completely awake. Ghost snuggled in against me and leached my body heat away.
While Top drove, I made a bunch of calls. The first was to Junie, and I got her answering service again. A moment later a text popped up:
In a meeting. Will call later
XOXOXOXO
And a bunch of emojis. Hearts and palm trees and kissy faces. I think those things are totally ridiculous; a sign that, as a culture, our collective emotional maturity was approximately that of pre-K kids using precut shapes to make pictures for Mom and Dad. Absurd. So, I made sure my guys didn’t see me send twice as many back.
Then I called the Hangar, but was told Church was in but not available except for missiles inbound or a zombie apocalypse. I left a message for a callback at his convenience.
“Cap’n,” said Top quietly. “We got company. Black Lincoln Navigator three cars back.”
I turned in my seat and studied the moderate traffic behind us. Top changed lanes a couple of times so I could see how the Lincoln adjusted.
“Yup,” I said, “that would be an actual tail.”
“Since when does the Secret Service drive Navigators?” asked Bunny.
We hadn’t yet gotten onto Maryland 295 South, so I suggested Top take a side route. The Lincoln followed, keeping well back.
“Does this boat have Calpurnia?” I asked.
“Yes,” said the sexy voice of the AI. “I’m here, Joseph.”
Bunny snorted. “Not sure where that falls. Somewhere between cool and I want to put a bullet into the dashboard.”