The Travelers: Book One (6 page)

Chapter 6

“Look, I know you care about Izzy as much as I do. We both know something really strange is going on; the cops will know way more about what’s going on around town than we do,” Gemma persisted, making Carson’s jaw clench in frustration.

Why was it so difficult for her to understand that the police couldn’t be trusted?

He tried to find a way to explain it to her.

“Would you rather have the police investigating who they
think
took her, or would you rather someone actually be
looking
for her? Maybe our priorities are different, but I’d rather have my sister back first and then worry about who’s behind all of this.”

Gemma’s lips pursed in a show of defiance. She wasn’t going to give into him. He could already tell that bringing her along was going to end up being more trouble than help; he had to find a way to ditch her. Maybe the police station wouldn’t be such a bad idea. He could leave her there to file a report and she’d be out of his hair while he gathered more clues and leads.

“It’s the right thing to do, Carson,” she answered softly, her eyes trained on an empty street corner. She feared if she looked at him he would be able to convince her of anything. She couldn’t chance melting into his wishes right now; no matter how attractive he was and no matter how many of her thoughts revolved around his broad shoulders and strong hands, she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted. Izzy’s safety was at stake!

His hands tightened on the steering wheel; Gemma could see the fine mosaic of bright white scars that criss-crossed his bulky knuckles — he was a man used to his hands solving problems. Gemma typically relied on her brain to fix things and right now, her brain was telling her that the police would help them.

“Fine,” he ground out through clenched teeth. He didn’t like conceding to her, but if he could manage this, the plan would actually work out a lot better for him.

He tried to ignore the smug satisfied smile that turned Gemma’s lips; she thought she’d won, he could let her have that for now.

Carson almost felt a little guilty for planning to ditch the girl, but he’d never intended to have a partner in this search for Isabel. She basically forced herself upon him — should he really feel bad for trying to shake her off?

Even as his mind formulated the plan, a rumbling deep within him rebelled against the idea. There was a previously unknown part of him, somewhere he never even knew existed, that suddenly came to life when Gemma was present. It was unsettling and he didn’t like it, but the thought of shutting it off now that it was awake seemed inconceivable.

He brushed those misgivings aside, though. There was no time to be interested in a pain in the ass like Gemma. Izzy had to be his first priority. If there was something possible between he and Gemma, it was just going to have to wait.

Gemma fought to relax as Carson zipped through the narrow back roads and bumpy residential areas. She just knew that the police would be able to assist. They would find Izzy in no time and then their lives could all go back to normal. She just hoped that everything was okay and these worries she had were completely unfounded.

The police station came into view after a few more minutes of Carson’s reckless driving and he pulled to a stop in front of the station.

“Here you go,” he said without looking at her.

“You have to come with me,” she protested, one hand already on the door.

“Why’s that?”

She nibbled her lip thoughtfully and Carson pushed back the urge to give her anything she asked for.

“You’re her family? Don’t you have to be the one to say she’s missing?”

He shrugged.

“Well, even so, you know more about her than I do. If they start asking me personal questions, I may not know them. It will work best with both of us,” she finished, trying to tell herself that she was just being realistic. She wasn’t trying to force Carson to come with her for any other reasons. Certainly not because of the way he made her blood feel like lava or the way his eyes stared straight through to her soul. No, she was only asking him along because it was in Izzy’s best interest.

At least, that was what she was going to keep telling herself.

Carson sighed, accepting defeat without an argument. He hoped that there would still be a way to leave Gemma here on her own without much input from him. He certainly didn’t want the police digging into his background. He didn’t want to deal with the suspicious gazes and thinly veiled threats. He spent too much of his life already trying to fly under the radar. He was a law-abiding citizen these days and all he wanted was to be left alone.

The whole area around the station was inundated with cruisers so it took him a minute longer than usual to find a parking spot. He was struck by how quiet the outside of the police station seemed. Typically, officers came in and out, mingled around the front doors with coffee and donuts, and generally just kept a watchful eye over the area. The presence of so many cars and so few bodies made the hair on Carson’s arms bristle in alarm. 

Gemma didn’t seem to notice, so Carson told himself that it was a product of his anxiety about police. There wasn’t anything actually wrong here; he was just being ridiculous. There was a time and a place to give into his fears and this wasn’t it. He planned to stay cool and calm in the presence of the HGPD and Gemma.

The first thing that struck Gemma as odd when they walked into the monolithic sandstone building was the lack of security. It seemed to her that if any place in town should have security it should be the place housing all of the criminals. Then again, there were probably enough police officers around that security was superfluous.

Carson led her past the entryway to the help desk. There was no one to be seen there. Phones rang constantly all around them without answers.

Gemma looked around for a bell or a button or something to press to let them know that they needed assistance; she found nothing.

A rumbling roar came through a door to their left. Their heads swiveled in unison towards the terrifying noise. It almost sounded like there was a lion or some other giant predatory beast on the other side of the door. The beast slammed into the wall making it tremble with the force of impact. 

Meanwhile, Gemma and Carson stood awkwardly wondering what they should do. Carson grew more and more uneasy by the minute, wishing that he’d never agreed to come here.

Gemma didn’t want to admit it, but she was frightened. It sounded like there was something serious going on behind those doors. The door rattled again as someone — or something — rammed into it. She took a step backwards, straight into Carson’s chest. She didn’t notice him though; the door shook with another blow.

Carson eyed the door, trying to determine if it would hold. It was a solid metal door, and the hinges looked strong, but the screws holding it in place were already starting to wriggle their way from the wall. Gemma backed into him and instinctively he placed a hand on her arm, ready to protect her if needed.

The walls shuddered again, shaking a few of the hanging accolades free where their frames splintered and glass shattered on the ground.

Gemma jumped in surprise and turned to Carson, her eyes wide with terror. He tried to remind himself that she wasn’t his responsibility. He didn’t owe her anything. It wasn’t his job to protect her.

“Maybe we should—” she started, her voice trembling.

Before she had the chance to finish her suggestion, the door flew off its hinges and Carson’s arms wrapped around her, swinging her away from the door, using his body to shield her without even a moment of hesitation.

The noise alone was enough to overwhelm Gemma — shouting, cursing, animalistic growls and grunts, all punctuated the air — but that was only the beginning.

From the gaping hole to their left, people began to pour into the antechamber that Gemma and Carson had, only moments before, been occupying alone.

It took Carson a moment to survey the mob, but he quickly decided that his suspicions about a new drug in town were correct. The rowdy bunch of convicts trampled over the overwhelmed officers. Carson kept his arms tightly wound around Gemma as more and more snarling, foaming, crazed people crushed into them.

Every attempt the officers made of containing the situation only seemed to make everything spiral further out of control.

A mousy female officer raised her voice at a burly bear of a man.

“Get down on the ground and put your hands behind your head,” she squeaked, pointing a stun gun at him.

The man had nearly half a foot on Carson and a beard that could make Paul Bunyan envious. He turned his wide unfocused eyes to the police officer and charged at her, teeth bared.

The small woman closed her eyes, wincing as she pulled the trigger, shooting two metal prongs into the man’s flesh.

He didn’t even flinch. He only stared at the barbs embedded in his skin with curious interest. Finally, he ripped them free and tossed them on the ground before rejoining the rioting mob.

The officer, Gemma and Carson all stared dumbfounded at the man that treated 100,000 volts like nothing more than a pesky fly on his arm.

Another officer attempted to wrangle convicts with handcuffs. He was doing a pretty good job of cuffing people, but there wasn’t a clear path through the crowd to get them into holding cells.

Gemma watched as a cuffed woman in front of her pulled at her wrists until the metal bracelets dug into her flesh. She was worried that the woman would hurt herself as blood dripped down her palms, her wrists still tugging against their confines.

With a final tug, the chain connecting the cuffs pulled apart like it was made of paper. Gemma’s heart thundered louder than any of the pandemonium around her. She was thankful for Carson’s arms wrapped around her, but she wanted to find a way out of this mess.

Like he read her thoughts, Carson pulled her behind the reception desk, instructing her to stay hidden under it.

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to find a way out of here,” he said, his eyes darting all over the room before coming back to rest on hers, “
don’t move
.” He pressed his forehead against her’s as a gentle reassurance before he disappeared into the mob.

She hugged her knees to her chest as silent dry sobs made her entire body shake. What was happening? This seemed like something out of a movie; none of this felt real, but if she peeked her head out of her hiding spot, Gemma knew that the chaos she’d find would be all too real.

She didn’t like being left alone. At least with Carson’s arms around her she felt safe and protected. Now she was abandoned, alone and vulnerable. She hoped that he really would come back for her.

Then a chilling thought struck her: was any of this related to Izzy’s disappearance? She didn’t know what made these people into frothing monsters, but had the same thing affected Isabel? Was she possibly amongst this mob? Gemma found it hard to believe that Izzy could ever be anything like these people, but that didn’t mean that one of these contaminated people hadn’t found her…

She didn’t want to think about that though. She had her own survival to worry about as her heart raced, pounding against her ribcage in a desperate attempt to burst free from her chest.

It felt like Carson had been gone for ages, but Gemma knew in reality it was probably closer to a minute or two. She couldn’t tamp down the panic that kept bubbling up inside of her. If something happened to either one of them it would be her fault. She insisted that they come here. She brought Carson into this dangerous situation and now he was risking his life to find a way out of it while she just hid under a desk.

The styrofoam ceiling tiles above her trembled and bowed under the creaking weight of something just over her head. She managed to peek her head out from under the desk to survey the commotion again, trying to find any sign of Carson in the crowd. She didn’t want to keep hiding for long. It made her anxious and she knew she wouldn’t be safe there forever. Eventually she was going to have to come out of her burrow.

Just as her head cleared the top of the desk, a pair of dueling men slammed into her safe haven. She ducked her head back down as quickly as possible, but one man already hefted the other over his shoulders before tossing him into the wall that Gemma faced.

The man lay on the cold tile floor, crumpled in a lifeless heap. Gemma’s first instinct was to see if he was okay, to see if there was anything she could do to help, but her sense of self-preservation told her that now was not the time to be a Good Samaritan.

The seconds seemed to drag on and on for hours. Every ragged breath that Gemma took felt like an eternity. She was just beginning to worry in earnest about the man on the floor only feet away from her. For all she knew, he could be dead; his back could be broken, his skull fractured or a lung punctured. She didn’t think she could just keep ignoring him when no one else was going to come to his rescue.

“Okay, Gemma,” she whispered, knowing that she would have to come out of hiding to crawl across the floor to the prone figure, “you can do this.”

She took a deep breath, but before she was even able to move, the man opened his eyes.

A gasp escaped her lips; his eyes were colorless save for the over-sized pupils that watched her as if she were in their cross hairs.