want.”
Switchblade rolled up both sleeves and popped his neck. With long strides, he advanced toward Chase. “I’m coming.”
Chase stumbled when the exoself delivered a warning. He pulled off his sunglasses and surveyed the sky. “S-drone.”
11
Switchblade looked to the sky and turned a circle. “I don’t see nothing.”
“It’s a mile out but it’s headed this way.”
“So let’s get on with this.”
“We don’t need it following us to the warehouse.” Chase moved close to the gray wall of the nearest building where a block partition separated two small offices.
“You sure it’s headed here? Drone factory is nearby, you know. They test them out in the fields. Never seen one in town, though.”
“It’s right behind you.”
Switchblade spun around. “Get down behind that wall.”
Chase dove behind it. He pressed himself into the corner. Switchblade remained on the sidewalk with his arms crossed and whistled a tune as if nothing unusual were happening.
The drone hovered twenty feet above them. Then dropped to ten feet. Switchblade watched it, even gave it a little wave. Then the thing lifted into the air and flew over the buildings to the left.
“What’d I tell you,” Switchblade said. “They don’t know me from Adam.”
The pick-up was easy—no one was around to notice the two were not the usual up top retrievers. Chase carried one large sack and Switchblade carried another.
They entered the alley an hour and a half after they’d sneaked out. Chase pushed the metal bin aside and peered into the tunnel, which was now well lit.
“Both of you stop right there,” a man holding a laserlight said.
Chase didn’t recognize him. He wore brown coveralls and a scar ran down his left cheek.
“Amos thinks maybe he’ll just let you stay up top. The two of you can replace the five who had to come underground today.”
“I’m sorry,” Chase said. “It was my fault.”
“We tell each other everything and we don’t wander off or go up top without permission. Especially you, Mr. Sterling…uh, Redding.”
“I’ll talk to Amos. Let us in.”
The guy stepped aside, and Chase crawled through the hole and into the tunnel. Switchblade followed and tossed in the bag of beans. Chase pulled the refuse bin back into place.
Switchblade grabbed the shoulder of the man with the light. “You know I can take care of myself up there, Nate. And I know how important this man here is. Nothing happened.”
“Except you got supplies, right?”
Switchblade pointed to the beans. Chase still carried his bag.
“I’m not worried about it, Switch. But Amos is fuming.”
Chase couldn’t imagine the man losing his composure. “Like I said, it’s my fault.”
“Don’t need you to stand up for me, Charlie.” Switchblade picked up the bag of beans and hoisted it onto his shoulder. “You didn’t make me do nothing I didn’t want to do.”
No one spoke as their footsteps echoed through the damp hallway that led to the underground complex.
Then Chase stopped. He wanted to flee.
At the end of the tunnel, waiting in an alcove… Kerstin in her red dress.
Code flashed across her form.
She faded, flashed back for a second, and then disappeared.
Chase wiped cold sweat off his brow with his free hand and kept going. The guy in brown—Nate—had orders to deliver him and Switchblade to Amos. They were on their way to the principal’s office. Maybe they’d get detention. Or expelled.
Mel waited with several others in the command center. Her eyes shot a few darts their way. But she didn’t say anything.
Nate opened the door and motioned them in to Amos’s private quarters. The room was bigger than Chase’s and had a large desk with a computer, a recliner, seemingly from the last century, and a small refrigerator. The perks of being a leader in the Underground Church.
Amos stood at the foot of his bed with his arms folded. “Come in, gentlemen.”
“It was my idea,” Chase said. “I
Switchblade rolled up both sleeves and popped his neck. With long strides, he advanced toward Chase. “I’m coming.”
Chase stumbled when the exoself delivered a warning. He pulled off his sunglasses and surveyed the sky. “S-drone.”
11
Switchblade looked to the sky and turned a circle. “I don’t see nothing.”
“It’s a mile out but it’s headed this way.”
“So let’s get on with this.”
“We don’t need it following us to the warehouse.” Chase moved close to the gray wall of the nearest building where a block partition separated two small offices.
“You sure it’s headed here? Drone factory is nearby, you know. They test them out in the fields. Never seen one in town, though.”
“It’s right behind you.”
Switchblade spun around. “Get down behind that wall.”
Chase dove behind it. He pressed himself into the corner. Switchblade remained on the sidewalk with his arms crossed and whistled a tune as if nothing unusual were happening.
The drone hovered twenty feet above them. Then dropped to ten feet. Switchblade watched it, even gave it a little wave. Then the thing lifted into the air and flew over the buildings to the left.
“What’d I tell you,” Switchblade said. “They don’t know me from Adam.”
The pick-up was easy—no one was around to notice the two were not the usual up top retrievers. Chase carried one large sack and Switchblade carried another.
They entered the alley an hour and a half after they’d sneaked out. Chase pushed the metal bin aside and peered into the tunnel, which was now well lit.
“Both of you stop right there,” a man holding a laserlight said.
Chase didn’t recognize him. He wore brown coveralls and a scar ran down his left cheek.
“Amos thinks maybe he’ll just let you stay up top. The two of you can replace the five who had to come underground today.”
“I’m sorry,” Chase said. “It was my fault.”
“We tell each other everything and we don’t wander off or go up top without permission. Especially you, Mr. Sterling…uh, Redding.”
“I’ll talk to Amos. Let us in.”
The guy stepped aside, and Chase crawled through the hole and into the tunnel. Switchblade followed and tossed in the bag of beans. Chase pulled the refuse bin back into place.
Switchblade grabbed the shoulder of the man with the light. “You know I can take care of myself up there, Nate. And I know how important this man here is. Nothing happened.”
“Except you got supplies, right?”
Switchblade pointed to the beans. Chase still carried his bag.
“I’m not worried about it, Switch. But Amos is fuming.”
Chase couldn’t imagine the man losing his composure. “Like I said, it’s my fault.”
“Don’t need you to stand up for me, Charlie.” Switchblade picked up the bag of beans and hoisted it onto his shoulder. “You didn’t make me do nothing I didn’t want to do.”
No one spoke as their footsteps echoed through the damp hallway that led to the underground complex.
Then Chase stopped. He wanted to flee.
At the end of the tunnel, waiting in an alcove… Kerstin in her red dress.
Code flashed across her form.
She faded, flashed back for a second, and then disappeared.
Chase wiped cold sweat off his brow with his free hand and kept going. The guy in brown—Nate—had orders to deliver him and Switchblade to Amos. They were on their way to the principal’s office. Maybe they’d get detention. Or expelled.
Mel waited with several others in the command center. Her eyes shot a few darts their way. But she didn’t say anything.
Nate opened the door and motioned them in to Amos’s private quarters. The room was bigger than Chase’s and had a large desk with a computer, a recliner, seemingly from the last century, and a small refrigerator. The perks of being a leader in the Underground Church.
Amos stood at the foot of his bed with his arms folded. “Come in, gentlemen.”
“It was my idea,” Chase said. “I
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