Authors: David Brookover
Neo and Crow burst out of the Wolfe Mansion like the devil was chasing them when Nick and Gabriella materialized on her front porch. Honora and Hefe stood on the sidelines and grinned at the brief reunion of hugs and fist bumps before returning to their domestic duties.
Neo whacked Nick on the back. “How about we grab some grub down at the
Lamplighter
and trade information?” Now that his two sorcerer friends were back, there was no reason to avoid public places where the sinister criminals could be lurking. The pair could handle anything Jonathon Foster and his team of cutthroats could dish out.
Crow patted his slim laptop computer. “I have a lot of data to share with you concerning Noah and Terror Island, and you won’t like some of it.”
Nick was about to question Crow when Gabriella slipped her arm through his. “We’ll all meet out on the porch in half an hour after we take a shower.”
Nick caught her drift and squeezed her arm. A shower and a quickie before an early dinner. “Yep. Got to get this NSA filth off us before eating.”
Neo rubbed his face. “Tell me about it.”
Crow decided to hang out on the porch while they cleaned up. As soon as the group entered the foyer, Gabriella passed her hand in front of Neo. Before he knew it, he was clean and his clothes were spotless.
He stared at her. “
How? Why?
”
She hung back to answer Neo’s questions while Nick hurried up the staircase to her master bedroom and peeled off his clothes. “Since you don’t a have a spare outfit here, if you took a shower, what would you have to change into? Nothing, and that’s illegal in Ohio.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Now be a good boy and join Crow outside.”
The big man chuckled. “You bet. If Liz were here now, I know she’d appreciate my clean clothes.” Liz was his wife of ten years who split time between their Washington, D.C., home and
Old Mother Hubbard’s
. She was driving back to Washington, D.C., at the moment.
Crow eased his aching body into a porch chair and watched the gargoyles dispose of the last NSA corpses over Lake Griffin before resuming their fence post perches. Neo stepped outside a few minutes later, but neither spoke. Instead, they enjoyed the mesmerizing bird calls and the whistling wind in the ancient maple and oaks. They sensed the serenity was the proverbial calm before the storm, and they were soaking it in.
The
Lamplighter
restaurant was nestled between the
IGA grocery
and
Evelyn’s Wicca Bookstore
in downtown Duneden. The exterior was red brick with floor to ceiling front windows. A white sign spanning the restaurant’s width proclaimed
Lamplighter
for all to see, and the bold red letters were bounded by several black Wiccan symbols. The interior was early American diner with fifteen worn Formica tables, hard watermarked flatware, and thin paper napkins. The dog-eared menus were secured between the pebbled glass salt and pepper shakers.
A row of revolving stainless steel stools upholstered with cracked red Naugahyde fronted the long white counter running along the south wall. The scene reminded Nick of the long ago drugstore soda fountain around the corner from his California home.
As soon as they stepped inside, a middle-aged hostess approached wearing a wrinkled red top, stained white skirt, and a dingy gray name tag and greeted Gabriella like she was royalty, which in a way she was in those parts. Her parents founded Duneden. Gabriella requested a rear corner table for privacy, and they were soon seated and perusing the menus. Clara jotted down their orders and shuffled off to the kitchen.
Neo chuckled. “I feel like I’m dining with the Queen of England.”
“White squaw have big influence in little town,” Crow teased.
Nick leaned over and kissed his fiancé. Full and hard. “For a royal, you kiss pretty good.”
“
Pretty
good?” She slapped his shoulder. “C’mon, guys, lay off,” she said somberly before liberating a pent-up giggle with a snort chaser.
After the laughter faded, Clara and their waitress, Sarah, returned with their drinks before waiting on the people in the far booth. She and a helper rapidly returned with their drinks, salads, and French bread. Once they were alone again, Gabriella started the ball rolling with a question for Nick.
“It was obvious you knew the witch in the grotto. Mind telling us how?”
Nick was eager to hear Crow’s report, especially the part where he wouldn’t like the results pertaining to Noah and Terror Island, but he humored Gabriella.
“Donna Lake and I met during my meeting with the Scripps Institute’s top executive, Frank Mesenburg, and she acted annoyed with me the entire time. Now I’ll have to reevaluate her innuendos blaming my aunt for sending Noah to Terror Island.”
“Really? That takes balls,” Crow exclaimed.
“Yeah. Telling you your own aunt is a spy for the other side,” Neo added.
“And she was reluctant to let me see pictures of E.V.A.N.”
“Who’s E.V.A.N.?” Gabriella posed.
Nick described the expedition’s alien finding, Noah’s successful attempt to clone it, and its ultimate theft. Noah volunteered to appear on
Final Scream
as a cover for searching Terror Island and the neighboring islands for other alien creatures.
“I take it E.V.A.N. is an acronym?” Neo stated, his elbows braced on the table. Even Crow’s forkful of salad lingered beyond his mouth as he awaited the answer.
“Extraterrestrial Virulent Assault Nemesis.”
“Sounds military to me,” Gabriella chimed in.
“It is. And guess who the intermediary is between the traitors at the Pentagon and the mystery person who orchestrated the deaths of everyone associated with
Final Scream
?”
Crow rubbed his chin in pseudo-seriousness. “Gee, that’s a real brain-buster,” he said facetiously. “Could the answer be Jonathon Foster from the NSA?”
“Give that man a prize!” Nick exclaimed.
“Thanks.” He bowed. “What I don’t get is why the NSA’s counterterrorism unit is involved with Terror Island?”
Nick buttered a piece of bread. “Your guess is as good as mine at this juncture.”
“So Donna Lake lied about your aunt. What did she have to gain by doing that?” Neo asked.
Gabriella piped up. “Maybe she tossed us a red herring to misdirect our investigation into the people responsible for the
Final Scream
fiasco.”
“Fiasco is an appropriate word, since we don’t really know whether the people of Terror Island are dead or alive,” Nick reminded them. “I tend to agree with Gabriella’s idea about the red herring. Now for the part of the interview that floored me. Both Lake and Mesenburg knew the island’s real name, but they sent Noah there anyway.”
“What is its real name, Custer?” Crow asked.
“Kepolo Island. It’s Polynesian for
Devil Island
.”
Neo leaned back and whistled. “Shit the bed, Fred! So Scripps shipped their boy genius, Noah, to a place called Devil Island. With that moniker, he was doomed to die before finding a grasshopper in the jungle there.”
Crow pushed away his empty salad plate and buttered a dinner roll. “Whoa! Let’s give those people the benefit of the doubt. Noah might’ve known the island’s Polynesian name, you know, and volunteered anyway.”
Nick swallowed the last of his bread. “Crow’s got a point—a thin one, but a point.”
Crow threw him a dirty look, then grinned.
Nick hesitated before describing his strange run-in with the preternatural dragon mirage on the plane to Columbus and his subsequent brain-picking of the guilty sorcerer. “According to my mind meld of sorts, E.V.A.N.’s theft was the second red herring supposed to steer us in the wrong direction. I also learned there is no such Wicker plant that changes normal people into Wicker. It was done with magic. Her physical change, the operating room murders, and her subsequent disappearance were deliberately staged,
but why?
That’s the question of the day.”
Nick sighed. “From what I gleaned from our mysterious sorcerer, the conspirators used the
Final Scream
people as bait to both lure me to the island and coax someone out of hiding. Exactly who or what, I don’t know.”
“Maybe they’re big-time poachers who are trying to attract other creatures like E.V.A.N. for profit,” Gabriella offered.
“Yeah, that might be it.”
“But why lure
you
to the island, Chief?” Crow posed.
“I don’t have the faintest idea,” Nick responded.
“I wonder if their plan worked and they caught or killed a bunch of weird-ass beasties,” Neo stated.
“I guess we’ll find out when we get there,” Gabriella stated.
Crow wiped his mouth and placed his crumpled napkin on the table. “I wouldn’t count on that,” he said mysteriously as he typed a few commands on his laptop. A television news report displaying offshore video appeared on the HD screen. “This is Terror Island
now
.” He spun the screen around so the others could view the violent volcanic eruption and pyroclastic flow obliterating three Blackhawk helicopters.
Nick’s chin sank. “My island research didn’t mention anything about a volcano being there.”
“There wasn’t one … until today,” Crow informed them. “It just appeared out of nowhere, as if by…”
“Magic?” Gabriella finished.
“Yeah, as a matter of fact.”
Nick’s eyes grew watery. “If Noah wasn’t dead before the eruption, he sure must be now.”
“Hold your horses, Nick!” the sassy supercomputer interjected through the laptop speakers.
“That’s enough idioms from
you
,” Crow chastised his creation.
“Yes, Chief Sourpuss.” The supercomputer paused for a reaction but received none. “Everyone, look closely at the most recent satellite video of the Terror Island eruption, and you’ll see what I meant concerning Noah’s survival,”
Geronimo
directed. “The sound is muted so we won’t disturb the other diners.”
The supercomputer reran to video showing the pyroclastic flow annihilate the three airborne Blackhawk helicopters. The satellite’s perspective slowly swung across the island to its opposite shore.
“Pay close attention to the beach near the water,”
Geronimo
instructed.
Nick leaned closer to the screen and detected several black dots standing beneath the tumbling pyroclastic flow. The tropical trees and plants were instantly vaporized as the lethal current continued its destructive path toward the Pacific … and the dots.
“What are they?” Nick demanded.
“Zoom in closer,” Crow commanded.
“Whatever my Great Red Master requests,” the computer replied drolly. The picture froze while
Geronimo
magnified the dots.
“Well, I’ll be damned!” Neo exclaimed. “We’ve got ourselves a bunch of butt ugly winged aliens about to fly off and leave that brown-haired guy to die.”
“He looks a lot like Noah Wright,” Gabriella pointed out.
Nick pumped his fist in the air. “That clever son-of-a-gun is alive! Thank God!”
Nick’s reaction wasn’t exactly a surprise to Gabriella. She kind of expected it, because Nick felt guilty about not rushing out to the island to rescue his cousin, and if Noah died, that guilt would magnify a hundred fold.
Crow gestured at the screen. “Look! Noah’s talking.
Geronimo
, see if you can filter out the ambient noise so we can hear what he’s saying.”
“Nick instructed me to mute the volume,”
Geronimo
argued.
“It’s okay. Go ahead and do what Crow asked,” Nick said.
“That’s a tall order, but I’ll do what I can.” The supercomputer manipulated the sounds, but Noah’s voice remained buried in the crashing ocean waves. “I will try magnifying Noah’s face and see if we can read his lips.”
Even with a bird’s-eye close-up view, Noah’s mouth wasn’t completely visible, so it was impossible to translate his conversation with the winged creatures, no matter how many times the supercomputer
replayed the video. However,
Geronimo
had limited success. “Here are the parts of their conversation I could translate. Noah is saying, ‘I’ll go! I’ll … something-something … out of here!’ That’s all I got.”
“Hmmm. Strange. It sounds like Noah’s asking the creatures to fly him off the island,” Nick surmised.
“Makes sense,” Crow concurred. “Fly or die.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “You should be in advertising,” he said facetiously.
Gabriella drummed her fingers on the Formica. “Something’s not right with this picture. Why would Noah waste his time talking to primitive creatures like that instead of swimming away from the pyroclastic flow?”
Everyone considered the conundrum.
“I’ve got it!” Nick exclaimed. “Noah speaking to them implies they’re
intelligent
.”
“Holy Mother of Mary!” Neo whistled. “Those butt-uglies are smart?”
“That’s the only explanation that makes sense,” Gabriella agreed.
“Yeah, and if any of you have any doubts, look at the creatures’ faces. Their expressions project understanding, not frustration.”
With their Noah hypothesis firmly established, Nick told
Geronimo
to restart the satellite video. All but one of the flyers advanced to the breaking waves and spread their substantial wings. Nick’s stomach tightened. Noah sprinted toward the waiting creature with the plummeting pyroclastic flow nearly reaching the beach. The creature hugged Noah to its shimmering body and took flight mere moments before the murderous flow merged with the Pacific swells, creating clouds of angry steam.
Geronimo
zoomed out and lowered the magnification of the area before resuming the video.
Neo’s eyes bulged. “There they are! They’re flying north.”
“To where?” Nick muttered, more to himself than the others.
Crow raised his hand. “Patience, White Man.”
“I’ll bet they’re headed to a nearby island,” Gabriella speculated.
The winged creatures ignored the closest landmass and continued north.
Neo tapped the uppermost part of the screen. “See that island in the distance with the big-ass volcano smack dab in the middle of it?”
“We see it. Are you suggesting that’s their target island?” Nick asked.
“Yeah—for one important reason. A volcano makes a perfect hiding spot if you’re an alien species looking to avoid detection. It’s like your secretive dad’s underground castle beneath Lake Griffin.”
Nick nodded as he analyzed the flyers’ speed and direction. “How old is this footage,
Geronimo
?”
“Five hours, sixteen minutes, and thirty-seven seconds and counting,” he replied drolly.
Gabriella tilted her head toward the screen. “Look! Neo was right! They’re gliding down into the volcano.” She slapped the big man a high-five.
“
Geronimo
, enlarge the volcano opening,” Crow commanded, but the tighter vista yielded nothing of value—only rocky terrain, clinging mist, and deep shadows.
“Did you notice their flight path never wavered?” Neo noted.
“Yeah, I did,” Gabriella replied. “I was surprised they didn’t make an effort to disguise their destination.”
“Which is bad news for Noah,” Nick remarked glumly.
The others were puzzled by his statement.
“Why bad news?” Gabriella pressed.
“If
we
saw Noah’s escape on this military satellite feed, then you can bet your last dollar our Pentagon traitors watched it, too, and they’ve got a five hour head start on us.”
“We’ll never make it there before they do if we have to charter a private plane,” Neo pointed out.
“Noah’s life’s at stake!” Crow exclaimed. “We
have
to get to that island before those murderers.”
“
Riai
Island,”
Geronimo
corrected him in his know-it-all voice.
The computer’s discourteous interruption annoyed Crow. “What’s so damned important about the island’s name that you felt the urge to correct me?”
“The island’s name,
Riai
, is Tahitian for
seized with fear
,”
Geronimo
stated flatly. “It means that…”
“…it’s the
real
Terror Island!” Gabriella gasped.
Neo fell back in his chair and folded his massive arms across his chest. “Looks like Noah has jumped from the frying pan into the fire.”
“No kidding,” Nick murmured, gaping blankly over Neo’s shoulder.
Gabriella squeezed her fiancé’s arm. “There’s only one way to get there fast.”
“I know, and I’m weighing the pros and cons of using it, among other things.”
“And?”
Crow stared curiously at the couple. “What in God’s name are you two discussing?”
Gabriella was fit to be tied. “
Magic
.”
“Magic? So why not use it, Nick? We’re talking about saving your cousin’s life here,” Crow barked.
Nick shook his head. “That’s not my main worry.”
“Then what is, dear?” Gabriella asked.
“I’m uncertain about transforming into my new alter ego again. Hell, I don’t even know the extent of my new powers.”
“That
is
a dilemma,” Gabriella agreed. “That guy creeps me out.”
“So what you’re basically telling us, Nick, is that you’re willing to sacrifice your cousin for a little
feel good
?” Neo summarized angrily. “Because if that’s the way the land lays, you’re not the Nick Bellamy I’ve known and respected over the past several years. And furthermore, if you don’t go the magic route, it appears to me that you’ve already changed—into a gutless wimp!” The big man stood, roughly pushed his chair away, and tramped out of the restaurant.
Crow turned to Gabriella. “Would you tell our waitress to make Neo and my dinner orders to go? When they’re ready, we’ll come back and pay for them.” With that, he stormed out of the restaurant, too.
Gabriella looked understandingly at Nick. “Forget what I said about your alter ego giving me the creeps. Just change and go save your cousin.”
Nick remained speechless.
“Okay, have it your way. I’m leaving, too.” Gabriella slammed her diamond engagement ring on the table beside his hand.
“Hey, there’s no need to…”
“Yes, there
is
. I can’t marry a coward.” Gabriella spun brusquely and joined the others in front of the
Lamplighter
.