Chapter 32
It was a long, miserable night spent constantly on the move. Alex only stopped when he grew too tired to continue. At those times he found dark corners or wide open, empty spaces to rest, but only for as long as it took to regain his strength.
As dawn broke over the Utah skyline, he began heading back toward the airstrip test site. He had no other option but to return to the Under empty-handed. It wasn’t safe for him on the surface anymore. Silas would find him no matter where he hid. With both he and his father missing, Silas had the vast wealth and resources of EMIT at his disposal. It would only be a matter of time until he tracked Alex down. The only place he could be sure Silas wouldn’t be able to get to him was in the Under.
Alex had failed. He was going back to Domus without a single weapon. He could only imagine the disappointment that awaited him. He’d promised Winston an arsenal, weapons the likes of which the people of Domus had never seen before.
Alex wasn’t just failing to deliver what he’d promised, he was delivering nothing at all.
And the bad news didn’t stop there—what about Silas? If Silas was a Nocuous, then everything the Domites had been doing, everything they’d based their existence on, was for nothing. They believed that if just one Nocuous escaped it could mean the end of the world. But right there in Alex’s hometown, working side-by-side in the same company his father had built, it seemed one already roamed free.
Alex struggled to make sense of it all. Why had Silas never made a bid for power? Why hadn’t he created his army of thralls and taken over the world?
His housekeeper, Rosa, certainly seemed to fit the profile of a thrall, but Alex had never seen any others like her. Not in Silas’s house, and certainly not at EMIT.
Had Silas simply been waiting for the right time? Had he been helping to build EMIT for all those years in order to use its wealth to augment his takeover? But that didn’t make any sense. Why would he need money at all? If he did, he could just find someone rich and put them in thrall to him.
None of it made any sense.
Alex approached the airstrip cautiously, squinting through tired, burning eyes in the dim, pre-dawn light. He was absolutely exhausted. He just wanted to get back, to take a moment to rest, maybe with Tabitha beside him. He wanted to feel safe.
Out on the main road, a minivan cruised past. Alex watched until he couldn’t see its taillights any longer, and then scurried forward in a crouch until he reached the utility shed. Putting his back to the rusty wall, he looked up into the sky and waited until he caught his breath again.
It wouldn’t be long now. The sun was just beginning to crest the horizon, a thin band of golden blaze becoming larger by the second.
At that moment, Alex realized he may never have watched a sunrise before. If he had, it certainly hadn’t had the same effect on him that it was having now. It was stunning. The sun was something he’d always taken for granted, but now it meant so much more to him. It represented salvation, escape, and—ironically—was the catalyst that would take him back to a place where there was no sun at all.
The line of the horizon already bisected the sun at the perfect halfway point. Had it always risen so quickly? How was the sun able to fully reveal itself in just a matter of minutes, and yet take so long to travel across the sky? Alex took a deep breath and savored the moment.
His stomach rumbled. He ran his tongue across dry lips that had grown chapped and cracked from spending the night out in the cold. Digging in a pocket, he pulled out one of his two remaining cheeseburgers and unwrapped it. It wasn’t warm, but it was still better than cold fish.
The sun had fully risen by the time he took the last bite, not a cloud in the sky.
It was time.
Alex took slow, hesitant steps out on the airstrip. He turned in a full circle and scanned the horizon. At this point, it probably didn’t matter if anyone saw him use the suit. He’d be long gone by the time they could get to him and they’d be hard-pressed to convince anyone of what they’d seen.
Alex scanned the road one last time. There were no cars in sight.
He switched on the laser. This is it, he thought, I’m headed back to the Under with nothing to show for my trip except a cheeseburger, a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans.
He didn’t have to go back. He could stay until he found a way to get the weapons—steal them if he had to—like he’d been considering the night before.
But he knew the longer he stayed, the easier it would be for him to take the coward’s way out. The longer he stayed, the easier it would be to let time create a buffer against his feelings for Domus and all its people.
Would that be so bad? His dad would want him to choose that course. And for all Alex knew, his dad was already dead.
But what if his dad was alive? What if he was being tortured, in terrible agony with every second that passed and, by suit and sword, Alex could bring him home, with or without better weapons? His dad had always been there for him. After Mom had disappeared, it was him and Dad.
If it was Alex who was trapped in the Under, Dad would move heaven and earth to get him back, and he wouldn’t stop unless he knew that Alex was dead. Alex could do no less.
And of course there was Tabitha.
There was only one choice he could live with, even if that choice might kill him.
He turned resolutely to face the airstrip, but when he looked up he recoiled in shock, his knees nearly buckling beneath him.
There, just past where the shimmer glazed the concrete of the airstrip, was Silas, facing him down like a gunslinger in an old western. He stood impassively, his tall, lanky frame lending him the appearance of casual indifference.
Alex knew better—Silas was anything but indifferent. From his previous battles with Nocuous, Alex knew very well that they could seem the most calm right before an attack.
If Silas was what Alex believed him to be, the next few moments might be the most important of his life.
Neither of them moved. The wind picked up, blowing sideways across the airstrip. Alex squinted against the dust and grit. Silas’s coat billowed out and his long, black hair blew out to the side. Alex gave a start, squinting harder. There was something strapped to Silas’s back. Two handles rose up from behind both of his shoulders.
Swords?!
Silas had come here to hitch a ride—to use Alex and the suit to get to the Under, undoubtedly to get to the Core in order to grow his power. Alex could not let that happen.
He didn’t hesitate. He swung his arm up and pointed the laser.
Silas knew enough to bring swords with him, which meant Silas knew everything he needed to know about the Under.
And it meant that Alex was right about Silas being Nocuous.
The instant Alex moved his arm, Silas surged forward, coming at him in a blur of inhuman speed.
Shaking with fear and adrenaline, Alex steadied his wrist, pointed into the shimmer, and clenched his fist tightly closed.
The entire movement couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, but to Alex’s terrified mind, time slowed to a crawl. He watched, horrified as those moments played out.
The laser was aimed directly into the center of the shimmer. He watched his fingers clench together as if they belonged to someone else. The suit lit up, the wire mesh inside the fabric slowly engulfing him in its familiar dull glow.
All the while, Silas’s black silhouette sped toward him, growing closer and closer.
At the last moment, right before the suit’s glow reached its zenith, Alex felt bony fingers clamp down on his shoulder.
And then he was falling, falling through the wormhole created by the shimmer, unable to do anything except wait while it took its course.
He landed hard, falling backward onto the unyielding stone floor of the Antechamber, struggling to disengage himself from Silas’s arms and legs.
They’d come together. The suit had brought them both. The same way that any clothing he wore came through with h
im, the repulsive contact from Silas’s hand on his shoulder had forced Alex to bring him too.
Scrambling and twisting, Alex scurried away on all fours and rose into a crouch, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the dim red light of the cavern.
“Alex!” Tabitha ran into the Antechamber from one of the side tunnels, followed by two others. Core guard. On the other side, three more Domus guards led by Jonathan cautiously stepped into the chamber.
Everyone froze as soon as they realized that Alex hadn’t come alone.
Silas crouched warily at the far edge of the room, his back to the wall and both palms held up in front of him in an entreaty for peace.
“Alex?” Tabitha whispered.
“Stay back,” Alex replied, not just speaking to Tabitha but to all of them. He never took his eyes from Silas. “He is Nocuous,” Alex told them. His lips twisted into a sneer. “Aren’t you, Silas?”
Silas didn’t answer. Instead, he reached over a shoulder with deliberate slowness and slid one of his swords free, brandishing it for all to see. It was a beautiful, gleaming, steel weapon.
“To arms!” Jonathan cried out. The two groups came together, forming their defensive arc and effectively blocking any escape for Silas.
“Alex,” Jonathan said tersely, “slowly back along the wall.”
But Alex didn’t move, and neither did Silas.
“Please don’t do this,” Alex whispered.
Silas’s impassive gaze didn’t waver.
“These are good people,” Alex told him. “They don’t deserve this.”
A flicker of emotion crossed Silas’s face. It wasn’t much, just a tiny narrowing at the corners of his eyes, gone so quickly that Alex wondered if he’d really seen it at all.
Carefully, slowly, Silas let the point of his sword tip downward until it hovered just above the floor. He held Alex’s gaze for the space of a half dozen breaths and then bent at the knees. In one smooth movement, he sent the weapon sliding across the floor until it skidded to a stop at Alex’s feet.
And then, in the blink of an eye, Silas was gone.
He slammed through the warriors’ arc and fled out the side tunnel that led away from Domus.