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A soldier walked up to their window. “Where you headed?” he asked.

“Brinsmade,” Charlie answered.

“Are you from there?”

“No. We’re visiting a sick cousin.”

“Brinsmade’s been evacuated,” the soldier told him. “You’ll find your cousin at the high school gym over in Leeds.”

Lisa leaned over to get a better view of the man. “Why has Brinsmade been evacuated?” she asked.

“Toxic spill,” the soldier answered. “Truck collided with a train.”

“What kind of spill?”

“They don’t tell me,” the soldier answered. “They just say to keep the cars out.”

“You’re not afraid you’re standing downwind of something?” Charlie asked.

The soldier’s voice hardened. “You folks need to turn around now,” he said. “Like I told you, your cousin is in Leeds.”

“Okay,” Charlie said. He wheeled around and headed away from the roadblock, the soldier now in his rearview mirror, reaching for a field telephone, talking into it. “I have a really bad feeling about this,” he said.

“So, what do we do?”

“We have to get around the roadblock.”

“How?”

“Not alone, that’s for sure.”

They drove to Leeds and stopped at a small bar to think things through. Several men, in hunting clothes, sat at one of the wooden tables. Charlie eyed them a moment, then rose and walked to the bar.

“I need someone who knows the area,” he said.

The bartender nodded toward one of the men at the table. “Dewey Clayton,” he said.

“Thanks,” Charlie said, then turned and strode over to the man the bartender had indicated.

“You’re Mr. Clayton?” he asked.

“That was my dad. I’m Dewey.”

“I’d like to hire your services.”

“You want a guide?”

“I’m told you’re the best.”

“You want to go hunting?”

“In a way, yes.”

“You’re out of luck. We’re shut down. Damn government’s locked us out of our own woods.”

“We know that,” Lisa said as she stepped up beside Charlie.

Dewey looked at her closely, then at Charlie. “But you’ve got some reason you want to go up there anyway?”

“Our daughter,” Charlie said. “She’s lost in the woods?” Dewey asked. “The Army has her.”

“This have something to do with that ‘toxic spill’ that didn’t happen?”

Charlie and Lisa nodded.

Dewey smiled. “We’ll find your little girl,” he said.

Chapter Three

BRINSMADE, NORTH DAKOTA

Mary flashed her most winning smile at the approaching soldier.

“How are you?” she asked brightly.

The soldier smiled. “I’m all right, ma’am.”

She indicated the Humvee that blocked the road, the soldiers gathered around it, arms at the ready. “So, what do we have here?”

“Some sort of toxic spill, ma’am,” the soldier answered.

“I’m here to see General Beers,” Mary told him.

“Do you have a clearance?”

“No, I don’t,” Mary said. “But what I do have is information that General Beers needs. It could save thousands of lives.”

The soldier wavered for a moment before responding. “Sorry, ma’am. Not without a clearance.”

Mary looked at him coolly. “I was going to try to run the roadblock. But why don’t you just arrest me?”

“What?”

“Arrest me and have me taken to General Beers.”

The man shook his head. “No one goes in. We detain people here.”

“Then detain me,” Mary said without hesitation. “Detain me and get someone on the phone to General Beers and tell him that Mary Crawford is at the roadblock with some important new information about the project.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that without provocation,” the soldier replied.

Mary smiled girlishly, and with a lightning fast movement grabbed his crotch.

The man’s eyes bulged. “Jesus,” he groaned.

Minutes later she stood before General Beers, Wake-man beside him, clearly both pleased and astonished to see her.

“You just don’t know when to quit, do you, Mary?” the general asked.

Mary laughed coldly. “You son of a bitch,” she sneered. “What did you think, that you’d just take the project away from me?” She wheeled furiously toward Wakeman. “And you sold me out,” she cried as she lunged forward and slapped his face. “You worthless bastard!” She slipped the artifact into Wakeman’s hand.

“Take her away,” the general said.

Mary looked at him angrily as two soldiers stepped forward and grabbed her arms.

A few minutes later, just as she’d known he would, Wakeman came out of the building and walked to where she stood, under guard, behind a Humvee.

“I need to talk to Ms. Crawford,” Wakeman told the soldiers.

He waited until they’d left, then said, “It must be their transmitter.” He opened his hand and looked at the artifact. “This is how they send the implant signals up.”

“It’s a lot more than a transmitter,” Mary told him. “I’ve looked at it several times, and it’s changed, Chet. Some of the markings were there in 1947, but some of them are new.”

“New?” Wakeman said, astonished.

“Yes. I think it gathers information. And the way it’s glowing, they must have left it behind for a reason.”

“How long ago did you take the shield off?” Mary asked.

“A day and a half.”

“Nothing’s happened?”

Wakeman shook his head.

“We have this,” Mary said, referring to the artifact. “And we’ve got the little girl. In a way, it’s as if they left both of them.”

“It would be interesting to see what would happen if the two were brought together,” Wakeman said.

Mary smiled. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Moments later Mary knocked at the door of the farmhouse.

Pierce opened it.

“I’m Dr. Crawford,” Mary told him. “The general asked me to take a look at Allie.”

“I wasn’t told anything about it,” Pierce said.

“No, you weren’t,” Mary said authoritatively. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to wait outside.”

“But…”

A child’s voice called from inside the farmhouse. “It’s all right.”

Pierce looked into the room’s dark interior. “You sure?”

“She’s not going to hurt me.”

Pierce motioned Mary inside the room, then stepped outside.

Allie sat on the bed, her hair falling freely to her shoulders. So small, Mary thought, and yet so powerful.

“It must be strange for you,” she said. “Finding out how strong you are. All the things you can do.”

“It is a little,” Allie said softly.

“I’ve frightened you a lot,” Mary said. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to scare you.”

“You don’t care if you do,” Allie said.

“That’s not really true,” Mary told her. “I’m not the kind of person who takes any pleasure in frightening people. In hurting them.”

“But you do all those things.”

Mary saw it in her eyes and in the serenity of her posture, an eternal solitude. “They’re not coming, are they?”

“I don’t know,” Allie answered.

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

“Maybe.”

“Would you like to go home?”

“Yes.”

Mary drew the artifact from her pocket. “This is something that belonged to my grandfather,” she said. She held it out to Allie. “Tell me what it says.”

Allie stared at the softly glowing piece of metal.

“You can read it, can’t you?” Mary asked. “Tell me what it says.”

Allie’s gaze lifted from the artifact. “What do you want it to say?”

Mary’s mouth twitched into a snarl. “Pick it up and read it!” she snapped.

“I can’t,” Allie said. “Not yet.”

Mary stared at the glowing metal. The letters were moving now, some information fading from it as other information formed, new symbols rising to its glowing surface as others vanished.