Ithink I just saw a wisp of fog,” North said.
“Too early,” Sierra said. “We’ve got another couple of hours before sunset.”
“Olivia warned us that the fog was becoming more unpredictable lately,” North said.
“Yes, I know, but—” Sierra caught a glimpse of gray mist gathering in the heavy woods on either side of the road. A chill zapped across her senses. “Damn. You’re right.”
They were deep into the mountains now. She was still at the wheel. They had passed the last tiny town with its lone gas station an hour ago.
Olivia had explained that, in addition to the natural hazards of the narrow, winding highway, the fog that always made driving in the area impossible after sundown had begun rolling in off the lake earlier in the evening and was lingering longer after sunrise. Ever since the explosion in the old Fogg Lake lab, the strange mist had been infused with paranormal energy. But in recent weeks the radiation was stronger and more disorienting.
Some of the Foundation scientists engaged in exploring and mapping the recently discovered ruins of the Fogg Lake lab attributed the phenomenon to global warming. But according to Olivia, the people who lived in the small community were convinced the new problems with the nightly mist were caused by the researchers and technicians who were disturbing the powerful forces that had been sealed inside the lab tunnels for decades.
“Night comes early in the mountains,” North said. “And paranormal energy is always enhanced by darkness, regardless of the technical time of sunrise and sunset.”
“So long as we don’t make any wrong turns we should be okay,” Sierra said.
They were using Olivia’s carefully written directions because the closer they got to Fogg Lake, the less they could rely on the vehicle’s navigation system. Sure enough, GPS had gone down an hour ago. The cell phones had stopped working shortly afterward.
“According to Olivia’s directions we’re only about ten miles away from the town of Fogg Lake,” Sierra said.
“If the fog gets any worse it might as well be a thousand miles,” North said. “It’s not normal fog.”
The mist that Sierra could see drifting through the trees had an eerie green glow. There were things moving in it. Hallucinations.
No, there would be no way to drive through that stuff once it covered the road.
“We may have another problem,” North said.
Sierra glanced at him and saw that he had turned to view something through the back window.
“What?” she said.
“There’s a vehicle on the road behind us.”
Sierra glanced at the rearview mirror. She caught a glimpse of another SUV just before it disappeared into a turn.
“You’re thinking it’s not a coincidence that we’re not alone out here on the road to Fogg Lake, aren’t you?” she said.
“You must be psychic.”
“Let’s not jump straight into another conspiracy theory.”
“We’re already ass-deep in conspiracy theories,” North said. “What’s one more?”
“The vehicle behind us could belong to a Foundation team.”
“We talked to Victor and Olivia before we set out from Riverview,” North reminded her. “Neither of them said anything about a scheduled trip today. The Foundation is enforcing tight security on the town. All arrivals and departures associated with headquarters are registered with Lark and LeClair.”
“Could be one of the locals returning from a shopping trip,” Sierra said. “I doubt if the people who actually live in Fogg Lake feel the need to check in with the Foundation authorities or Lark and LeClair.”
“Okay, I’ll allow that as a possibility,” North said.
“Look at it this way—worst-case scenario is that the Puppets are following us, right?”
“Right.”
“They must realize they can’t overtake us, not on this road,” Sierra said. “And once we get to Fogg Lake there will be a small battalion of Foundation agents waiting for us. Whoever is in that car behind us will be stopped and searched.”
“Maybe we’re not expected to make it all the way into town,” North said.
“What?”
“Pull over to the side and stop,” he said.
“What?”
“Now.”
She wanted to ask questions and demand answers but there was no arguing with the steel in the command. The badass cleaner from the Foundation was taking charge. She eased the SUV onto the very narrow edge of the pavement, unclipped her seat belt, popped open the door and jumped down to the ground.
“Get your jacket and pack,” North ordered.
She yanked open the rear door and hauled out her things. North grabbed his jacket, his pack and the tuning machine.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Into the trees,” he said. “We need to get as far away from the car as possible. Whatever you do, stay close to me. We can’t risk getting separated, not in this terrain.”
He plunged into the woods. She slung her pack over her shoulder and followed. He might be overreacting to the perceived threat of the approaching vehicle, but he was right about one thing—it would be all too easy to get lost in the woods.
They stood deep in the trees and watched the vehicle that had followed them slam to a halt behind the SUV. Car doors banged open. Four figures got out.
“Chastain probably has a gun,” Ralph said. His voice carried clearly in the eerie stillness of the mountains. “We take him out first. All we need is whatever he’s got on him or in the car.”
“What about the woman?” Joe demanded. “She’s dangerous.”
“Get rid of her, too,” Ralph said. “She’s just a go-between.”
The four men approached the SUV, pistols in hand.
“Out of the car,” Ralph shouted. “Now.”
When nothing happened Ralph fired straight into the rear window of the SUV, shattering the glass.
“They’re gone,” he announced in disgust. “Fuck it. Well, it doesn’t matter. They probably won’t make it out of the woods, not in this fog. Check the car. We’re looking for anything that has a paranormal vibe. Anything at all.”
They yanked open the SUV doors and quickly went through the vehicle. Ralph used his gun to blow open the lockbox.
“Nothing in here but those weird glasses Chastain was wearing,” he announced.
“Nothing up front,” Joe said. He slammed the driver’s-side door closed. “Not a damn thing. If they’ve got the device, they took it with them.”
One of the men looked around. “That damned fog is getting heavier. We can’t hang around here much longer.”
“That fucking Chastain,” Ralph said. His voice rose in fury and frustration. “What the hell is going on?”
The three other Puppets were already moving swiftly back toward their own SUV. Ralph started to follow them but he paused at the open cargo door of Sierra’s vehicle.
He took a fist-sized object out of his jacket and tossed it into the rear of the vehicle. There was a muffled whoomph.
Sierra watched, stunned, as her precious SUV exploded in flames.
“But I was still making payments on it,” she whispered.
North clamped a hand over her mouth to silence her.
Not that the Puppets would have heard her. They were all piling back into their own SUV. Ralph got behind the wheel, did a tight three-point turn and roared off back down the mountain road.