Extinction Agenda

Chapter Three

Sauget, Illinois

The car they’d been given was a two-door, brown Chevy that was so nondescript it might as well have had “Unmarked Vehicle” stenciled on the bumper near the government plates. Paige laughed to herself when she saw it, but didn’t waste much more breath on it than that. They didn’t intend on driving very far, so it didn’t really matter if anyone tracked them. Both of them wore comfortable cargo pants that had been worn into a second skin during all of the time they spent with the IRD. Other than that, Paige wore a dark blue jersey that was so old that its Bears logo was almost invisible. Her hair had been recently trimmed and pulled into a neat tail that brushed against the nape of her neck. Cole looked about the same as always. As far as clothing went, all that had changed was the design on his T-shirt. Today, he wore one depicting the first screen of Donkey Kong.

“When did they reopen this place?” he asked while leaning forward to get a better look into the glare of early morning sun.

Paige pulled to a stop in front of a small club marked by a tall diamond-shaped sign that read, THE EMERALD. “This place wasn’t closed during the Mud Flu,” she reminded him. “That was Bunn’s Lounge. Get that straight before you go in to talk to the management.”

“It’s not Christov, is it?”

“Sure is.”

“Oh,” Cole grumbled. “Thanks for the reminder.”

They exited the car carrying the bags of gear they’d collected and walked across a nearly deserted parking lot. Even McDonald’s didn’t have a breakfast rush anymore, which made Cole wonder if the world truly had come to an end. Before they got close enough to knock on the tinted glass of the front door, the shade of a smaller window was pulled aside so a bald man with skin the color of a fish’s belly and forward-folded ears could look outside and jab a finger toward the side of the building.

“You told him we were coming, right?” Cole asked.

“Yeah. Why do you think he looks so pissed off?”

He was still laughing at that when the side door was opened by a shapely redhead dressed in flannel pajama pants and a sweatshirt cut to show about a millimeter of her smooth, flat stomach. Since she was a nymph, she made that ensemble look better than ice cream on top of a freshly heated brownie. “Hi guys, come on in.”

“Hello, Kate,” Cole said, fondly remembering her instantly, even though it had been more than seven months since he laid eyes on her. If only for that reason, it seemed like a harsh winter. The nymph smiled and stepped aside, allowing the Skinners to enter the club as another set of stomping footsteps rushed to meet them.

“You are not welcome here!” Christov said. He was flanked by two young bouncers who looked just as disheveled as he did. Between the three of them, they probably hadn’t gotten more than twenty minutes sleep since squaring away the club after the previous night’s business.

“We’re only passing through,” Paige said.

“Then why can’t you do it during business hours, eh?” Although bloodshot, his eyes were sharp enough to gleam after waggling back and forth between Cole and Paige. “See? I don’t forget. Last time you came, it was to get information about a killer. The next night, my club is infected with the Mud Flu, my customers are tearing it to pieces, and monsters are kicking down my door.”

When Cole tried to interrupt, he was cut off by a swiftly upraised hand that moved as if to erase him from existence. “And,” Christov continued, “not long after that disaster, my beautiful club is closed down by the state health board.”

“But you got another one,” Paige said while extending her arms. “All is right with the world.”

“No! All is not right. I am still paying off debts I got while buying out former owner of this dump. Now I must try to build it up to something half as good as Bunn’s.”

“All we need is to talk with Kate here,” Paige said. “Then we’ll be gone.”

“Gone, as in . . .” Christov waggled his fingers in the same way he would to make a coin magically disappear from beneath a handkerchief.

“Right,” Paige said. “Gone like that.”

“What about your car? I’m not running some kind of garage.”

“It’s yours,” she told him. “Might want to check it over before you use it. It’s government issue but I doubt anyone will be looking for it.”

“Stolen?” Christov asked, a hint of admiration showing in his eyes.

“No, but strip it for parts, swap the plates, do whatever you like. If anyone comes around asking for it, tell them we stopped by to partake in the buffet and left it here for safekeeping.”

“There is still a buffet, right?” Cole asked.

“Of course,” Christov huffed. “What kind of a place you think I am running? Fine. Leave the car and have your talk with Kate. If you like, I can get you a drink on the house. Only one.”

“Pass on the drink,” Paige said as she stepped inside.

The wind seemed especially cold as it blew across Cole’s face. He turned his back to the outside world, walked inside and allowed the heavy door to slam shut behind him. The Emerald wasn’t a large club and it sure wasn’t a deluxe one. It was, however, much different than the last time he and Paige had been there. Apart from an additional stage, there was a longer bar, a larger section curtained off as a VIP area, and bigger speakers bolted to the ceiling. At the moment there was only a pair of smaller bouncers turning the chairs right side up in preparation for the lunch customers.

Kate and Christov had taken Paige to the storage room behind the bar. Although it was the same room that was used as a temporary Dryad temple a while ago, there had been plenty of changes since then. First of all, the walls, floor, and bar were covered with Dryad glyphs that were either painted or burned into surfaces until they looked as if they’d been there since the wooden planks were cut from the forest. It wasn’t until he was reaching out for the edge of the door leading into the storage room that Cole noticed an illuminated sign hung up behind the bar that looked like a beer advertisement with a few glyphs worked into the background.

“You will pay for this!” Christov shouted.

Tensing his muscles in preparation for a fight, Cole stormed into the back room and asked, “What’s the problem now?”

“The bridge to Louisville,” Paige explained. “He wants us to pay for it. A hundred bucks.”

“Seems reasonable, considering how much you save in time and gas or plane ticket,” Christov said.

Seeing the scowl on both Skinners’ faces, Kate said, “It’s not too big of a jump. We’ve got the energy stored up.”

“You are my employees!” Christov barked. “Times are rough and I must make a living. Do you know how much I needed to spend to get this place up and running properly? Do you have any idea how expensive it is to turn this building into an A-frame?”

“Plus all that purple paint, huh?” Cole scoffed.

The bald man turned as if he was about to take a swing at him. “You’re damn right. I don’t care what else is going on outside, I have a business to run. I have seen wars in other countries and life must still go on. The people who aren’t fighting or dying must still struggle to pay for food and electricity just like before. Only now they must do so while waiting to hear about the next battle or get a call about the next person they know who is dead. I have to make ends meet and now it is harder than ever!”

Cole looked at Paige and asked, “What’s the problem?”

“I only have fifty bucks on me.”

He dug into his pocket and came up with a few twenties. “We’ve got ninety between us,” he said while extending a hand with the cash in it. “Can’t the rest be counted as the car?”

“I was keeping the car in mind.” Christov’s gaze drifted to the weapons strapped to Cole’s back and the ones holstered in Paige’s boots. “Why are you going to Louisville?”

“To meet up with some other Skinners who might know something about the creatures that have been tearing us all up.”

“You are soldiers,” he sighed. “Sometimes I forget. Go ahead and do what you need.”

“How’d you come up with that figure anyway?” Cole asked.

Christov shrugged. “The energy my special girls collect is used for some of the regulars who pay top dollar.”

“Yeah,” Cole said as he slapped the twenties into Christov’s hand. “I can only imagine. Hopefully this makes up for some of what you’ll lose for not being able to put on one of those shows.”

The bald man smiled and nodded. “It does, my friend. Plus, there is some purple paint to buy. Go with God.”

“Appreciate it.”

Once Christov and the bouncers were gone, Cole was finally able to appreciate the space that had been added to the makeshift temple. Before, the glyphs and beaded curtain marking the entrance to the bridge that allowed someone to instantly travel from one spot to another competed for space with piles of napkins and stacks of chairs. Now, after losing at least one wall, there was enough room for the three of them to stand comfortably with those same supplies piled up to the ceiling on either side of them.

“I’m sorry about him,” Kate said. “Christov has been impossible after buying this place from the last owner. He seriously got reamed in that deal, but he’s still fighting to rebuild this into a place half as good as the old Bunn’s Lounge.”

“Step one,” Cole said with a grin, “go back to the old name. That’s a classic.”

“I agree,” Kate replied. “I called ahead and there’s a club in Louisville waiting for you. The only catch is that you’ll need to be quiet about how you got into town. At least, you can’t mention us. We’re still trying to lay low since you guys are still technically fugitives. Don’t you know anyone that can take care of that for you?”

“Sure,” Paige grunted. “There’s just some major league strings attached with that kind of favor, and our friend isn’t ready to cut them just yet.”

“Well I can’t do anything about that request,” Kate said apologetically. “It comes from Tristan herself.”

However Dryad society was structured, Tristan was at the top. “How is she?” Cole asked. “I haven’t heard from her since the fall of Atoka.”

The touch of worry that drifted across Kate’s face was like a cloud passing across the sun. “She’s better, but still not very good. She had to channel some dark energies to do whatever she did that night and they took their toll.”

“Is she sick?”

“Not sick, but not herself either.” Kate put on a smile that was inspiring despite being shallow. “She’ll be all right soon. Are you ready to go?”

Paige looked over to Cole and saw he had a few large bags hanging from his shoulders and a case in his hand. Picking up the gear she’d been carrying, she nodded and looked at the beaded curtain in front of her as if it was the door to an airplane terminal.

Like most Dryad temples, the room was covered in flowing, curved script that no Skinner had ever come close to deciphering. It was the handwritten equivalent of a tone hummed by an angel: pleasing to the eyes, even if those eyes couldn’t tell what was being said. As an accompaniment to those glyphs, Kate arched her back and sang like a whisper drifting in from miles away. As far as Cole could tell, the songs used to activate the Dryad bridges were never the same. Without any real structure, they were simply expressions of the natural power flowing through every nymph. The symbols embedded in the walls and floor gave off a cool green glow that flowed into the archway from which the beads hung.

As soon as Cole and Paige stepped through them, it would take a lot more than digital tracking devices and satellite maps to figure out where they’d gone.