CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I JERKED THE pistol from my lab coat, before slipping it back just as quickly.

Marisol pushed open the door and took the steps three at time. The arriving car sat on its buffers, doors whooshing open, the same moment she reached the platform. “Time to go.”

Inside the car there were enough seats for all of us. Gratefully, I took one, Marisol sitting beside me. A few of the students whispered amongst themselves enough to mask the subtle tones of our own conversation. “What was that?” I ran my hand through my hair. “I thought I was supposed to meet them at Parker Lane.”

The car reached full acceleration, eastbound. “Buck, these guys aren’t gonna just hand you Evie. They’ll do whatever they can to get what they want.”

“The lost gene.”

She nodded. “And you to explain it to the public. If it were me, I’d hold on to Evie until you’d been compliant.” She cracked her neck, then leaned against the headrest. “Parker Lane might have been a rouse, a distraction.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry, we’ll still check it out.” The car slid to a stop at the commuter station beneath I-35. “I couldn’t get eyes, but I think all three were involved back there.” We stood as the doors slid open. “These guys are fast, but not as fast as the commuter. The Parker Lane station should be safe enough. Maybe we’ll catch a break.” Stepping onto the platform, she did her best to smile.

After a forty-two second wait, we boarded the commuter, southbound, and strapped ourselves in. The coilgun-activated commuter vactrain peaked at 25 gravitational forces, but for less than 0.05 of a second. Anyone without serious cardiovascular disorders could ride it safely.

The rapid acceleration meant its normal operating speed of 400 mph could be reached in seconds. That meant the ride never lasted for more than a handful of seconds. As soon as we had accelerated, the train reversed the process until we’d come to a complete stop. One more pulse and we would reach Parker Lane.

While we waited for several commuters to exit and others to strap in, Marisol briefed me for exiting the car. “One of them could have stayed back. The EM field around the car is our best protection, so if anything goes sour get back in before launch. I’ll lead. If the coast is clear, I’ll holler and we’ll have a look about.”

As the coilgun powered for launch, I wanted to argue.

“Evie’ll be safe until they’ve gotten everything from you they want.” She nestled back into her seat. “Don’t worry. We’ll get her back without giving them a damn thing.” The car launched, shoving us deep into our cushioned chair backs, then slowed almost instantly. It was hard for me to fathom the distance we’d just traveled in the blink of an eye.

Marisol shoved an old-fashioned key into her harness, jimmying it open while the red overhead lights were still flashing. “Stay put until I call.”

I nodded.

Clutching the handrail, she positioned herself beside the doors. The car dropped onto its buffers the same moment the doors whisked open. She swung herself through the opening before anyone else had been cleared to enter. I cringed, awaiting a dozen unthinkable calamities.

The overhead lights illuminated green as my harness clicked open. I leapt up, shoving my way past a small herd of professionals eagerly boarding the car. The slightly larger station had been decorated with tile mosaics done in Texicas browns and oranges. Well lit and airy, nothing leapt out as imminently dangerous. No sign of Evie either.

I spotted Marisol shuffling along the far wall at the base of the steps. She saw me instantly, showing no sign of surprise I hadn’t followed orders. Instead she indicated I should take the opposite wall, staying below while she checked the entrance.

This time I knew to listen. I had to keep eyes on her backside, which meant taking my eyes off her actual backside. I broke away from her striking figure and swept the platform. Almost everyone boarding had already done so. The commuters who had exited the car had nearly reached the base of the steps.

A few headed for the elevator. My eyes widened. Sprinting, I joined them. If someone were planning a sneak attack…I reached the wall beside the doors just as they slid open. Holding out my arm, I barred the others from entering while gripping my pistol beneath my lab coat. In a single motion I swept into the small space, empty of anyone save me.

Annoyed and avoiding eye-contact, the others finally boarded. I knew this wouldn’t be the last time I came off looking like a nut. About to exit, I noticed an envelope taped to the control panel. Handwritten across the front, it said “Jim Buckner.”

I froze as the doors slid shut. The car jerked upward. Ripping the envelope down, I hastily unfolded the letter and read it.

Jim, if you’re reading this, it means you’ve gone and somehow screwed up your simple instructions. Please realize you are putting everyone in danger the longer you draw this out. Assuming you’ve gotten yourself a new means of communication (or soon will) call me at this number: 15-38-64. Damn the security. At this point we’ll just have to work around it. Do be careful.

The elevator opened, the orange light of sunset filtering in. I shoved the letter into my pocket and emerged to find Marisol about to duck back into the station. I whistled. “Here.”

“Buckner.” She swore. “You’re the worst partner ever.”

“I had to check the elevator.” I nodded behind me.

“Hmm.” She hesitated. “Second worst partner ever. Okay, maybe third. Driscoll was a princesa, but at least he could follow orders.

“Well, if I would have known you were into the femeninos.”

“Can it, and let’s go have a look around.”

I shook my head. “There’s nothing there. It’s like you said, a diversion.”

She stared at me.

“Okay, take a quick look. I need some air, to clear my head.”

She didn’t budge.

“I’ll lay low, I promise. I’ve spent enough time underground today. I’ll be right there on that bench.”

She scanned the whole area before nodding.

“I’ll keep my eyes open.”

“You do that. I’ll be back in two minutes. Any longer than that and this location isn’t safe.” She entered the station and sprinted down the steps.

I instantly dialed the number from the letter. Almost as instantly the woman with the Southern drawl greeted me from the other end of the connection. “Jim, good to hear from you, again.”