Unless the attack came from another source. Though I can’t imagine who. It was too intentional to be random. It wasn’t for goods or even for revenge. This attack was to keep me from retrieving Galilei, and the only ones I know of who want him dead—or even know where he is—are the Adelphoi.
I load the Pod into the back of the truck using a makeshift ramp from a door knocked off its hinges. I run back up to the room to get my candle and grab the extra box of food bags for the LifeSuPod.
I check the clock on the truck dash. Twenty-eight minutes until I enter Tenebra again. With fifteen minutes to get to the new LifeSuPod location, that doesn’t leave much time to get Galilei plugged in and get myself connected to the other LifeSuPod.
I throw the truck into gear and haul myself out of that parking lot and onto the freeway, driving well over 90 miles per hour.
I follow the path in my mind’s eye, pulling up memories and navigating exits. Once I exit the city, I seem to enter the woods almost instantly. There are fewer cars on this road, many of which are pulled off to one side.
I gun it. One hundred miles per hour. The truck bucks, but the weight of the LifeSuPod in the back keeps it from getting airborne on every bump. Each gust of wind sends my grip tightening on the steering wheel, but I don’t slow.
I’m so close to my own LifeSuPod and living my own life.
I check my rearview mirror every few minutes to make sure I’m not being followed by whoever locked me in that medical room, but there’s nothing. Whoever it was probably went away, thinking their job was done.
I can’t picture Stranna coming after me to kill me or even letting one of her Adelphoi friends do the job. Then again, if they’d been willing to cut the power to an entire building to kill Galilei, then it isn’t that much of a stretch to imagine them coming after me.
If it was an Adelphoi, then I’ve ruined my chances of gaining their trust and joining them. They already know I took their truck. It’ll be a hard sell to convince them to let me help after saving Galilei. I’ll just have to prove myself on the other side, in Tenebra.
But if it wasn’t an Adelphoi, who else knows I’m trying to help Luc? They’d have to have time left in the Real World, and I can’t think of anyone with hours remaining. I frown. I don’t like having a mystery enemy.
The clock jumps to another number. Fourteen minutes left. I check the mile marker. I am so close.
The correct marker looms from the darkness. I screech to the side of the road, slamming the brakes to make the turn. There is no street sign, no exit sign. Just a gravel road that I almost miss.
One mile, then right.
A deer springs across the road, and I clip its back hoof. My heart thunders as we bounce over the gravel, leaving a cloud of dust rising into the early morning air behind us.
The mile seems to take forever.
Twelve minutes left.
Right turn.
Eleven minutes.
Cabin.
Slatted-wood roof with missing shingles and pine cones littering the dirt driveway. I don’t know what I expected, but Luc—with his diamond tooth and his promise of a LifeSuPod—gave me the impression that his version of a cabin was my version of a luxury-retreat facility.
But nope. From the outside it looks to be one room. I zoom past the front door and around the side of the house then slide to a gravel-smoking stop until the truck is parked at the back. There’s another car beside a pile of discarded furniture and rubbish, but not the Adelphoi’s SUV. It’s a little blue VW bug with dust coating it. Likely a backup vehicle.
Through the trees I catch sight of a clearing with three dozen solar panels laid out neatly in rows. So that’s how this little cabin is powered. Luc seems to think that will be enough for a LifeSuPod—2 LifeSuPods.
Nine minutes.
I don’t have time to unload Galilei’s LifeSuPod and get into my own. What a mess. I leap from the truck and scan the outside of the cabin.
There. A small off-white rectangle. An outlet. I back the truck as close as I can, give the LifeSuPod a quick search, and pull a cord from the battery pack. There is plenty more that needs to be plugged in to make the whole thing work, but this will have to be enough.
I plug it into the outlet, and a tiny red light illuminates on the top of the backup battery. Thank heavens it’s charging. Or doing something or other.
Seven minutes.
The door to the cabin is unsurprisingly locked. If I had more time, I’d search for a key. Today my foot will have to be the key. I kick the door near the latch, and it shudders, but not as badly as my battered body. I almost collapse from the slam of pain.
I grab a piece of firewood from the stack beside the door and chuck it through a window. The thing shatters easily. I knock away the leftover shards and then haul myself through.
The interior of the cabin is a bit more tidy than its outside, albeit dusty. Two armchairs, upholstered with maroon velvet and accented by wood arms and legs, sit by an empty fireplace. A rug. A nice bed with a writing desk behind it. It seems the type of place one would reserve for a couple celebrating their anniversary or something . . . all except for the enormous LifeSuPod in the center of the room.
My LifeSuPod.
That’s what I’m here for. It looks like an older model than the one Galilei is in, but everything is plugged in and whirring with strong beeping lights, all calling to me. A beam on the top of the battery glows green. Fully charged. I have four minutes to get myself inside and connected.
Hoses and plugs attach to proper outlets in the wall. Next to it is another space and set-up, likely for Galilei’s LifeSuPod.
Luc really did give me a new life.
I hurry to the LifeSuPod, ditching my boots and jacket as I walk. But when I reach the transparent coffin lid, I stop and my heart stops.
The LifeSuPod is not empty.
Someone is already in it.
Someone I know.
