“WHAT DO WE do?” I ask Charlie after I tell him, in more detail, about how the Bug Man took Kimberly. Over the course of my story, Charlie remembered something else: He saw a figure moving through the wreckage just after the crash, a shadow that might have been a person. It could even have been a deer or something, Charlie said, trying to reason with himself. Maybe it got spooked by the crash, got confused, ran into it instead of away from it. But his eyes told me that was bullshit, not the least of all because there are never any animals up on Dagger Hill. That place is apparently as spooky to the wildlife as it is to the adults of Windale.
“I don’t know what we do,” Charlie says, responding to my question. “We could talk to your dad?”
I scoff, flipping the note that someone (the Bug Man) left for Charlie over in my hand again, hoping this time when it turns, it will be blank. But the words are still there, letters scratched in haste. Fucking asshole, I think.
“My dad will never believe us,” I say. “You know how he is. He’s never bought in to our sci-fi fantasy comic book stuff.” I put on my best impression of Dad and say, “Why can’t you kids just go out to parties like regular teenagers?”
“Go make some more friends,” Charlie adds, deepening his voice and putting a finger across his lip like a mustache. A completely stupid mockery of my father but also totally perfect. I can’t help but laugh.
That lighthearted feeling is quickly strangled by panic. All I can do is try to organize my thoughts, get the story straight. “So what do we know so far?” I raise my hand, stick out my thumb, counting off the bullet points: “The cattle out at Clark Webber’s farm all died in one night after they got so scared of something that they slaughtered each other just to get away. Dad, Mr. Webber, Rebecca, Mel, and I all saw a cargo plane land on what I can only assume is a landing strip inside the TerraCorp compound. A few hours later, that same plane—or what I’m almost ninety percent sure is the same plane—crashes into Dagger Hill, almost right into you, me, Sonya, and Kim. A few minutes later, while we’re all scattered and afraid and hurt, someone—”
“Or something,” Charlie says absently.
“Or something,” I continue, nodding, “comes out of the wreckage, dressed in all black and a gas mask, and takes Kimberly. You, Sonya, and I wake up here at the medical center, assuming that the army is here to help, until they lie to our faces about where the plane came from and why it was here. They give us the mother of all injections and send us on our way. A few hours after that, you see the Bug Man here in your room and he leaves you this note.”
“Somebody leaves the note,” Charlie says, looking at me. “I’m still not totally convinced I really saw anything. It could have been a bad dream.”
“Fine,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Somebody left the note. Even though this whole thing could just be a bad dream, or you could still just be hopped up on morphine.”
“I wish,” Charlie mumbles.
“Did I miss anything?”
“Don’t forget the man who parachuted into town just before the plane crash and hasn’t been seen or heard from since. Oh, and that the army inexplicably closed Windale, blocking all roads in or out of town.” His voice has a bitter snap to it.
“Which may or may not be to help find Kimberly.”
“May or may not implies that it’s either one thing or the other,” Charlie says, rubbing his temples with shaky fingers. “The army probably is looking for Kimberly. But if they really did lose something or someone valuable to them, they’re looking for that, too.”
“Not to mention the pilot, or whatever he was, who jumped out of the plane. If he’s alive, he’s somewhere in town.”
“And if he’s not alive?”
I tilt my head, considering. “Well, then, he’s still somewhere in town. But nobody knows where.”
Silence yawns open between us, filled up by our grief and our fear.
“Sounds like you’ve got a lot to consider.”
The voice behind me makes me jump. On instinct, I crush Charlie’s note in my hand and turn toward the sound, hiding the paper ball behind my back. A blue-eyed doctor is standing in the doorway. Her face is a void, expressionless except for a slight smirk at the corners of her lips. It looks like a kind of satisfaction to me. The word busted blinks once, in big red letters, behind my eyes. That happens a lot whenever my dad walks into the room.
“Dr. Reed,” Charlie says behind me, trying to sound casual even though I can hear the wobble in his voice. “What’s shakin’?”
Reed steps into the room, hands behind her back. She eyes me first, then Charlie, assessing us.
“You know a lot, but you don’t know enough,” Reed says. Her head is turned slightly, as if she’s talking to me and Charlie and looking over her shoulder at the same time. There’s a new quality to her voice now. Urgency?
“Come again?” Charlie says.
“There’s so much more to this than either of you boys know.” The urgency, surprisingly, has melted into what sounds like genuine concern. Reed’s tone is almost motherly now. “If your friend is alive, she won’t be for much longer. We don’t know enough about the cargo that plane was carrying, but from what I just heard, you’ve confirmed many of our greatest fears.”
“Hey, whoa,” I say. “Slow down, okay? Who are you, and what are you talking about?”
Reed steps closer, lowering her voice to a hushed murmur. “My name is Claudia Reed, and I work with Sonya’s father. I’m trying to help you.”
I swivel my head around to look at Charlie. We blink at each other.
“Wait,” Charlie says, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Weren’t you, like, an ice queen just yesterday? You injected us with these medicine … testicles or whatever the hell they are like it was no big deal. And now you’re trying to help?”
“Dr. Gutierrez is in the unique position of having a little bit of leverage over Colonel Higgins and the army, and he insisted that I be here to supervise them. It didn’t really end up going that way. Mostly, they wound up supervising me. But Dr. G promised them I’d remain impartial if they let someone from his team assist with the medical screening. He knew what was on that plane just like the rest of us, and he wanted to make sure it hadn’t done any harm to you kids.” Her voice is just above a whisper, and her eyes keep flicking to the door, scanning it for someone who might get the drop on her just like she did on us.
“Dr. Reed,” I say, feeling my chest heave. “What was on the plane?”
Finally, she turns her whole face to me, looks me dead in the eyes. There’s nothing short of genuine fear in hers. “Something terrible,” she says. Her eyes drift away, along with her thoughts. “It was weak when they found it. Dr. G wanted to keep it as far away as possible, but Higgins, she … god, she brought it here. The closer it got to Windale, the stronger it became. And now…”
“You’re talking about the Bug Man?” Charlie asks. “The thing that took Kimberly?”
Out in the hall, there’s the faint click-clack of bootheels. “Listen, there’s not a lot of time,” she says, fishing for something in the pocket of her coat. “They found your Polaroid up on the Hill this morning, along with some of the pictures you took.” She produces a stack of white squares and shoves them into my hand. “They’re pictures of the pictures, because if the originals turned up missing, they’d know I was snooping. It’s the best I could do. You need to find the pilot. He was the only one who had any common sense when they showed up at the lab. He knew they were carrying something dangerous even before Higgins refused to get back on the plane with it.”
“Dr. Reed, I still don’t understand—” I start.
She grabs me by the shoulders. “The pilot’s name is Rinaldi. There’s no way to know for sure where he came down, but those pictures should help. Higgins is already a day ahead of you, but your dad must know this town better than anyone.”
“Doc, you gotta give us a sec here,” Charlie says. “Why is the pilot so important?”
“Because he knows what it is,” Reed says. “He’s seen it up close.”
“And you haven’t?” I ask. “Or Sonya’s dad, either?”
She shakes her head. “No,” she whispers. “They never even got it off the plane. The pilot—Rinaldi—he knows. If we find him, then he can help us find it. And maybe we can save your friend. Maybe we can save this whole town.”
The boot steps get louder, closer. Dr. Reed smooths out the front of her white coat, and composes herself. She gives Charlie and me each a long look, willing us to understand. I’m not sure I do. Not completely. But I understand that at least some of my fears weren’t misplaced. One of my best friends is still missing, maybe even dying, and I might have a way to help her. Everything else, for now, is just noise.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Reed says. “The capsules? They’re not medicine; they’re trackers. They made us agree to put them in. The army is watching your every move. So be careful.”
She steps through the doorway just as a pair of soldiers comes strolling past, talking about basketball playoffs or something. “I’ll be back to check those vitals in a few hours, Mr. Bencroft,” she says, loud enough for anyone to hear. Then, more quietly, just for us: “Until then, nobody should be around to bother you.” She gives us one last look, raising her eyebrows, then slips out for good.
A beat, then Charlie says, “Did you catch any of that?”
“Barely,” I say, letting out a long breath. “But I heard enough.” I rub the inside of my elbow where the “capsule” is lodged. The army is watching your every move. I glance around the room, then I start pulling open some of the drawers in the small cabinet built into the wall, not knowing what I’m looking for until I find it.
“Dude, what are you doing?” Charlie asks.
I spin around, holding a scalpel and a pair of tweezers, both individually wrapped. “You heard the doctor,” I say. “We have to find that pilot. But first we have to bust you out of this joint.”