“Brian…”
“I’m serious. Hell, Dad isn’t even dead, and look how I handled that. I wasn’t even as close to him as I am to you. You’re… You’re stronger than me.”
There was a silent moment between them as she let that absorb. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” she told him. “Everything’s different, now. Not just this place, or what we are. But you… You’re you, Brian. Not drugs. I can honestly say that I’m glad. I’m happy, even. I’m happy we’re here.” Even in the dim light, Brian could see her genuine smile. He returned it, in silent agreement.
FIVE
Birdie awoke to the false sunlight flowing around the edges of the blinds in Brian’s room. It lit up her brother’s silhouette, making him look angelic, and she laughed at the thought.
She pushed herself up, being careful not to shake the bed and wake him, and made her way out into the kitchen to start coffee. The kitchen was clean, most likely because he never used it. The stainless steel coffee pot had a thin layer of dust on it, reminding her that his morning routine likely consisted of going to the coffee shop instead of actually brewing it himself.
Brian awoke to the smell of coffee, maybe twenty minutes later. For a moment, he forgot where he was. But as soon as he came to his senses, he rushed out of bed and out into the hall, searching for proof that yesterday hadn’t just been a dream. There stood Birdie, stirring sugar into her cup of coffee. She glanced over at him.
“The milk in the fridge looked questionable,” she said. “I figured I’d just go without. Good morning, by the way.”
He smiled.
“You gonna bring your brother to work with you every day?” Agent Kale asked as they walked the tunnels toward R.R.
Birdie glanced to Brian, who walked slightly behind them, then back to Kale. “Brian is currently having writer’s block,” she told her. “And I figured we could use a hand still. But if you’re opposed—”
“It’s fine,” Kale cut her off. “I was merely asking out of curiosity. He’s a decent shot, or so he proved yesterday. Unless that was luck.”
“Birdie taught me,” Brian told her. “I’m also not opposed to manual labor, if it’s needed. But don’t give me busy work. If you need to give me busy work, just send me home. I’m here to help; not out of boredom.”
“Acceptable,” Kale replied after a moment of consideration. “So you’re good at training?” she glanced to Birdie.
“I’m good at training what I know how to do,” she replied, straightening her uniform top. “But I’ve not even completed training here. Why do you ask?”
Kale sighed as they approached the hatch to R.R. “We may have to start recruiting,” she told her. The three of them filed in through the hatch door, and Kale closed and secured it before walking across the small hallway to another one. This door had a console beside it, and Kale pulled her I.D card that hung on a retractable cord on her belt, and swiped it over the device. The red light above the door turned green, and there was a loud clicking sound behind the door. Kale then opened the hatch and made her way inside with the siblings.
“Agent Kale,” Dr. Foster approached from the hall they were walking through.
“Aaron,” she greeted. “Working a double shift?”
“Just got in an hour ago,” he told her. “I was informed you’d be coming in.” He glanced over at Birdie and Brian. “Nice to see you again,” he told them, trying to be friendly, though it was clear by his demeanor that he had urgent news. “Do they have clearance?” he asked Kale.
She arched an eyebrow. “Would they be with me, if they didn’t?”
“Right,” he nodded. “We’ve discovered something,” he told her. “And we have a big problem.”
“Other than the obvious?”
“On top of it,” he replied. “Same problem; bigger consequences.”
“Has something else happened?” she asked as they approached a set of sliding steel doors.
“Eh… not exactly. It’s just that we’re only now realizing the extent of it,” he explained. The doors opened and Birdie realized that it was an elevator. She hesitantly followed them as they filed into it. “Everyone is in the conference room,” he told them. “We’ve just been waiting on you, to start.”
“Everyone?”
“Maverick’s team, the R.R staff and myself. Well, I’m obviously not in there right now.”
“Obviously,” Kale rose a brow again. Aaron pushed a button and the shaft began moving downward.
Birdie looked at the button pad where Dr. Foster had punched level C1. She noted that there was a button for every letter in the alphabet, and decided that there must be other elevators if these were all followed by the number one. She recalled a building she’d visited during a case when she was with the DEA, that had a similar system.
“I came over here this morning when I was asked to come confirm their findings,” Aaron told them. “I wish I could tell you all I know, but I think it’d be best to hear it all in one place.” The elevator stopped, and mere moments later the doors swished open. “After you,” the doctor moved away from the exit and allowed the others to leave the shaft. He then headed out, himself, and led them toward the conference room.
This hallway was unlike anything else Birdie had seen on the island, and from the way Brian looked around, it was likely he’d never been here before, either. The entire walkway was black. The floor was an endless rubberized grate leading all the way to its end, and the walls on either side of them looked like marble. It was so smooth, Birdie could see her reflection as if it were a mirror. Overhead, were hundreds of small lights, no bigger than a dime around, each. Their placement made Birdie think of the night sky in Dagsboro. And though they were tiny, the hallway was lit very well.
When they reached the end of the walkway, the sliding door at the end swished open, and they entered a large room, similar to the walkway as far as the walls and lighting went. There was nothing lining the walls, as far as pictures or decor. A large, oblong table sat in the middle of the room, and several people were seated around it. One of them, Birdie recognized. Emmett smiled at her once their eyes met. She returned the smile, shortly, before her nerves reminded her that they were here for an important reason that was still unknown to her.
“Amber Farran,” a child’s voice came from the far end of the table. Birdie and Brian both looked over to see the young boy as he stood from his chair and walked toward her. He appeared no older than twelve, but the way he was dressed in a navy blue uniform similar to the black ones the Observers wore, the way his hair was styled, and the way he carried himself, it was more likely that he was much older.
“Do you know me?” Birdie asked.
“I do,” he replied as he approached. “We’ve never met in person, but I know who you are.” Instinctively, she dropped to one knee so that she wasn’t towering over him, and extended her hand to greet him. He took it. “My name is Simon.”
“I’m glad to meet you, Sir,” she told him.
There was a small moment where his brow twitched, not having expected the immediate level of respect the woman gave him without knowing exactly who he was. “We’ve been waiting for you,” he told her. She looked into Simon’s eyes, somehow able to sense that there was a wisdom within him that surpassed anyone she’d ever known.
Simon drew his hand away and turned toward the table. “Maverick,” he called, “Your report.”
“Sir,” he nodded as he stood. Maverick looked a bit older than anyone else in the room. Definitely more gruff, as well. He was a head shorter than Dr. Foster, who was still standing a bit to the side of him. He had a beard and mustache that wasn’t altogether inappropriate, however not exactly professional enough to be working in that room. His hair was brown and peppered with gray hairs, and he was wearing civilian clothing, topped of with a baseball cap.