Finkleman rushed into the Oval Office and tripped on the edge of a round rug in the center of the room—an exquisitely designed blue-and-gold presidential seal. Tim Decker watched him make a perfect face-plant from the comfort of his leather chair behind the desk. The balding man’s glasses, tablet, and phone skidded across the polished wood floor.
Why’d he pick such a louse as his secretary of defense? He shook his head, remembering he’d needed someone who would bend to his will. Someone who would allow him to initiate the population cleansing that this country—and the world—so desperately needed. Finkleman was irritating, yes, but Tim put up with him because he had just the right amount of spinelessness for the job.
Finkleman stood and retrieved his belongings. “Sorry, Mr. President.”
“Do you have an update for me?”
“A rather disturbing one, I’m afraid.” Finkleman stepped over, set the tablet on the desk, and swiped the screen.
A photo of a female police officer appeared. “What’s this?”
“She’s a Shroud, sir.”
“Cop or no cop, they all must go. No exceptions, Finkleman. I thought I made that clear.”
“That’s not it, sir. She’s listed as human. But we just received word she’s a Myriad.”
A Myriad? Damn. Those things were supposed to be extinct. Tim didn’t know much about them, only that they were powerful and very dangerous. “How’d she slip through the cracks?”
“Her parents allegedly vaccinated her against shapeshifting and passed her off as human.”
This was the first he’d heard of a vaccination to prevent a Shroud from shapeshifting. These things were getting smarter by the second. “Are there others?” he asked. “Others who were vaccinated and pretending to be human?” The possibility was more than a little disturbing.
“We’re not sure about that yet, sir.”
“Divert all available resources to finding the Myriad. She can’t be allowed to survive.”
“Sir, just moments ago, she and several other Shrouds killed a group of our soldiers.”
“So? Send more.”
“Our men were surveilling the house and caught wind of something called the sanctuary. That’s where the other Shrouds are taking her right now.”
Tim shook his head and sighed. His patience for this particular invertebrate was growing thin. “Intercept them. Take them out.” He pushed the tablet away. “Shit, how hard can that be?”
“Another unit is en route to do that, sir.”
“Good. Let me know when it’s done.”
Finkleman picked up the tablet and hesitated. “Actually, sir, I was wondering if you wanted me to call them off—”
“Now why the hell would I do that?” he shouted.
Finkleman took a step back. “One of our men darted the leader of the sanctuary, so we can track her by transmitter. The Myriad is with her.”
“And?” Tim felt his patience giving way to a headache.
“I figured you might want to track them, wait until they reach their destination, and then take out the entire nest in one fell swoop.”
Tim took a sip of bourbon from a crystal glass and ran his fingers over the presidential seal. Now that was a damn good idea. He finally stood, walked around his desk, and set a hand on the small man’s shoulder with a smile. Maybe Finkleman wasn’t such a nuisance after all.
* * *
Aspen stepped down from the Hummer and stretched as Oscar cut the engine and headlights. When Beckett and Miller followed suit behind them, the darkness swallowed everything. She couldn’t see her own breath in front of her face, but she was sure it hovered in the freezing air like barroom smoke. It was officially frigid in Landgrove, Vermont.
Feeling a little melancholy, she caressed the edges of the empty pastry box in her hand. She’d donated the rest of her cake to Skye, who was famished after the long stakeout flight back at Oscar’s. Aspen was now just holding onto the box as a reminder of what heaven smelled like.
She was glad to be out of Tora’s personal space. The doctor had been quiet for the duration of the trip but kept fidgeting uncomfortably on the seat beside her every time their legs or shoulders touched. The animosity radiating from her was palpable.
Aspen pressed the glow button on her watch to check the time: 3:47 a.m. She was exhausted. Skye was still asleep in the car. Wherever the hell they were was definitely remote. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d passed a streetlamp, house, or any sign of civilization. She felt disoriented and a little angry that the SEA had ousted her from her home in Boston. What she wouldn’t give to curl up in her own bed right now.
A porch light clicked on, illuminating a modest log cabin. The door to the cabin swung open as an old woman stepped outside. “All the rooms are ready, dear,” she said, shuffling over in a bright pink bathrobe and fuzzy slippers to give Tora a warm embrace.
What was this? Aspen was intrigued. There was someone who willingly hugged the doctor and, judging from the genuine smile on her face, appeared to actually like her? Poor thing must be suffering from dementia.
“Thanks, Edna. You’ll take care of the vehicles before daybreak?”
“Of course, dear,” Edna replied, still smiling as she looked behind Tora and caught Aspen’s eye. “Is that her? She’s quite beautiful. You didn’t mention that on the phone.”
Edna stepped forward and wrapped thin arms around Aspen. “Welcome to the sanctuary, dear.”
Oscar, Helga, and a sleepy-looking Skye joined them. The others trudged wearily from the Hummers toward the cabin.
“Thanks,” Aspen said, grateful for the fleeting warmth of Edna’s hug. Edna’s arms might be thin, but that woman could hug. “We all appreciate that you’re letting us stay.” She watched as Tora disappeared inside the cabin.
“Oh, I’m just the welcome wagon, dear. This is Tora’s sanctuary.”
That explained a lot. Tora was obviously accustomed to calling the shots. Well, the doctor was about to get a wake-up call because Aspen took orders from no one. Did being a Myriad trump being the leader of a Shroud sanctuary?
“If everyone will follow me, I’ll lead you to the tunnels.”
“Tunnels?” Aspen asked, suddenly uneasy.
“Tora didn’t tell you?” Edna patted Aspen’s hands like a child’s. “The sanctuary is all underground, dear.”
Underground tunnels sounded less like a sanctuary and more like a dungeon.
“Savor that last breath of fresh air,” Edna said, inhaling deeply. “You won’t be coming back up to the surface for a while.”
“What?” Aspen asked. “How long is a while?”
“New members are permitted to revisit the surface after one month.”
This was sounding less like a dungeon and more like a cult. Well played, Tora. Instead of sharing that tidbit on the drive over, Tora’s convenient disappearance had forced Edna to do her dirty work. She’d obviously assumed Aspen wouldn’t dare argue with an old lady in fuzzy slippers. Frowning, Aspen was about to open her mouth anyway in outright defiance when Oscar grabbed her by the arm and yanked her aside.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he whispered. “But this is the safest place for you right now. Will you do me a favor and just go with the flow?”
“You don’t fool me,” she whispered back. “You’re only saying that because you’re a zombie.”
Oscar stared at her in confusion. “What?”
“Zombies love dungeons. It’s like a well-stocked cooler of buffet-a-la-brain down there.”
He laughed in spite of himself. “We’re in this together. I have your back, kid.”
“Fine. But if they try to get me to wear one of those prairie dresses, I’m so leaving.”
“Fair enough. For the record, though, I think you’d look nice with your hair in a bun.”
Edna led everyone into the cabin with assurances that their equipment would be unloaded and brought down as soon as possible.
Hank called out from the back of the line. “What about our Hummers?”
“Not to worry,” Edna replied as she led them through a quaint living space with an armchair, side table, and wood stove. Bookshelves were built into the walls and bursting at the seams with paperback novels. “They’ll be stored safely in the hydraulic underground garage here on the property.” Edna opened a door off a long hallway leading to the kitchen and pulled a silver chain to turn on the light. “Michael will meet you in the basement,” she said, motioning for Aspen to step inside.
“You’re not coming with us?” Aspen asked.
“No, dear. This is my post. I man the fort.” Edna winked. “Just think of me as your personal bodyguard.”
Very funny, Aspen thought, questioning Tora’s leadership skills. The decision to post a little old lady as their most prominent line of defense was obviously a lapse in judgment. What was the plan here? Hug the bad guys until they surrendered?
When Aspen hesitated, Edna reached over to take her hand. A giant African elephant rose before her with tusks as long as the Hummers outside. She raised her long trunk and blasted Aspen with a ground-shaking trumpet, flapping her ears and swaying her massive head from side to side to show off her formidable size and strength.
She released Aspen’s hand and patted it between bony, arthritic fingers. “There’s nothing to worry about, dear,” she said, ushering Aspen down the basement steps before she had a chance to respond.
An unnaturally large man greeted her at the bottom of the stairs. Sporting a full beard, jeans, red plaid shirt, and suspenders, he looked like a lumberjack. “Welcome. Name’s Michael,” he said, his timbre deep and gritty. He extended a beefy paw to Aspen.
The minute she closed her hand around his, he disappeared. She looked around, but Michael was nowhere to be found. Oscar hadn’t said anything about Shrouds who could make themselves invisible. Dumbfounded, she was about to release her grip when a faint squeak from below caught her attention. There, on the basement floor, was a tiny brown field mouse. Balanced on hind legs, it gazed up at her with twitching whiskers and a cute pink nose.
Michael withdrew his hand from hers. “Everyone calls me Mouse.”
It took every ounce of willpower for Aspen to keep a straight face. She wondered if the rest of the group struggled to do the same as he made his way down the line with introductions.
She took the opportunity to scan the basement. It was pretty barren—save for some stacked logs, gardening tools, and a green storage bin marked Xmas Lights. She wondered where they were going from here. There didn’t appear to be a tunnel entrance anywhere in sight.
“Listen up,” Mouse bellowed from the other end of the line. “Before we descend into the tunnels, all of you will need to relinquish your weapons. They’ll be stored in the arsenal here at the sanctuary.” He picked up a wicker basket from the floor and made his way down the line once again.
Aspen raised an eyebrow when he reached Oscar, who simply smiled in compliance as he added his Glock to the pile. Shaking her head and against her better judgment, she did the same. But without the smile.
Mouse set the basket down and reached for a wooden support beam overhead. The wall of logs slowly slid aside to reveal a darkened tunnel entrance. He stepped in, lifted a lantern from a hook on the wall, and pointed to a basket of flashlights on the floor. “Help yourselves,” he said. “It’s a long walk and a lot less scary if you have one of those.”
Aspen withdrew the flashlight from her duty belt and switched it on. She couldn’t wait to get this uniform off and into more comfortable clothes.
Eyeing her rechargeable SureFire R1 Lawman with IntelliBeam, Oscar plucked a plastic Rayovac flashlight from the basket. “Trade?” he asked, holding his flashlight out with a look of hope.
She didn’t even dignify that with an answer. “When were these tunnels made?” she asked, jogging to catch up with Mouse as the others fell in place behind her.
“About thirty years ago. They’re made from precut steel tubes and then covered in a thick layer of rock. Nearly indestructible,” he said. “Doc Madigan built this place. Starting the sanctuary was his lifelong dream.”
“Tora’s father?”
Mouse nodded. “Best man I ever knew. Tora took over after a human got him. He was killed right in front of her. She was never the same after that. But she didn’t waste time feeling sorry for herself. She stepped up, kept this place running in his absence.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the rest of the group was keeping up. “Tora runs a pretty tight ship around here. A lot of people depend on her, and she’s never let us down. Her dad would be proud.”
She walked the rest of the way in silence, feeling like a giant jackass. No wonder Tora was so pensive when Oscar was brought back from the dead. Last night’s events had probably stirred up Tora’s memories of losing her own father. And Aspen had taken jackass to a whole new level by blaming Tora for Oscar’s death. She sighed. Even a truckload of Reese’s couldn’t make up for that.
They walked for miles. The tunnels seemed to go on forever. Aspen did her best to keep a mental road map, but it was no use. Too many twists and turns with left and right passageways from which to choose. She’d need a bloodhound to find her way back through this maze.
They finally came to a heavy steel door illuminated by a single torch set high in the tunnel wall. Aspen studied the door more closely. There was no doorknob, handle, keyhole, keypad, or security scanner in or around the formidable-looking door. How in the world would they open this thing?
Mouse set the lantern down and turned to them. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Aspen was just about to ask where the hell they would go when he shapeshifted and scurried inside a teeny tiny hole underneath the door. She had to hand it to them. Security was tight.
The sound of metal scraping against stone echoed through the tunnel as the steel door cranked ajar, inch by inch. Inside, there was a second door that slid open and disappeared into the rock wall. She had been looking for vulnerabilities since setting foot on the property. So far, this place seemed dauntingly impenetrable.
Mouse was restored to his lumberjack size on the other side of the threshold. He waved them in with a big smile. “Welcome to the sanctuary.”