Contact by Sean Platt, Johnny B. Truant Read Free Book Online Page B

He’d got himself nabbed by Garth and had to be rescued by Piper of all people — the woman he had regular daydreams and normal dreams about saving. He’d spent many hours over the past months thinking about Piper. They were flights of fancy he’d never act upon, but the facts were clear: her man was gone, she was lonely and sad, and there was only one unencumbered male left in their corner of the world.  
    “I should think what I want would be obvious,” said the tall man, his slight accent unplaceable. He paced, looking into each of the bunker’s rooms. “Not a bad place to hide, is it? And anyone who’d build such a place, we’d guessed, would have plenty of goodies to share.” He reached the armory’s open door and peered inside. He turned back and spoke again, sounding genuinely shocked. “ Many goodies.”
    “This place is ours ,” Trevor said.  
    The tall man jerked his head at the man above Trevor. “Allow him to stand.” Then, to Trevor: “What’s your name, son?”  
    “Trevor.”  
    “I’m Morgan.” He smiled then pointed around at the others as if they were at a tea party. “This is Dan, Vincent, and Christopher. Terrence is the other, around here somewhere. Were you the one who shot at us, coming in?”  
    Trevor swallowed. Morgan’s full attention was like being X-rayed. He nodded, trying to hide his nervousness.  
    Morgan nodded back. He looked at Raj, still on the floor, not trying to stand tall. “I guess it wasn’t this one, eh?” He looked at Piper and smiled in a way that Trevor definitely didn’t like. “And not that one either, though that would have been … interesting.” He turned back to Trevor, reached into the small of his back, and pulled out a semiautomatic pistol. To Trevor, it looked like a cop’s.
    “Then if you are the man in charge, I have a question for you: In my shoes, what would you do with a young man who declared himself in charge — and tried, even, to kill your team?”  
    The man watched Trevor. His gaze was intense, his eyes a haunting shade of green.  
    “I don’t know,” Trevor said.  
    Morgan smirked. “Indecision is the worst trait a leader can have.” Then he leaned in and whispered, “You must always cut off a group’s head if you want the body to follow.”  
    Trevor thought to ask what that meant, but before he could Morgan rolled the gun in his grip, turning the butt to face Trevor.  
    Morgan struck him very hard. Trevor thought he felt something shift and break in his nose, but there was no time to think before consciousness was gone and his unprotesting body fell to the floor.

CHAPTER EIGHT

    Morgan watched the boy collapse. Then he let the two women — one older and one younger, both pretty — go to him. Once they had gone, four eyes glared up as Morgan slipped the gun back into his belt. He looked away from their stares, uncaring.
    Lights flicked on overhead. Morgan blinked up, pleased with Terrence’s timing.  
    “Let me explain how this will work,” he said, looking around at the group. “This is my home now. It seems you can accommodate guests, given all your space and supplies. We had a rough time getting in, so I feel we’ve earned our welcome. But we have a problem.”  
    The younger of the women — the one with brown hair — stood from her crouch and came toward Morgan.
    “You win,” she said. “Just let us go.”  
    “Well, that’s the problem. For one, the kind part of me doesn’t want you to go out there, for your own good. The lawn is full of hippie campers who will drag you into sing-alongs. Beyond that, there are alien ships in the skies. Not here now, but there’s no way of knowing when they’ll return.”  
    “‘ Return ’ ? ” said the woman.  
    “You don’t know?” Morgan laughed. “You’ve been visited. I’ve heard many stories. That’s the reason these people are here: ships have come, and they want to be taken along for the next joyride if they ever come again.”