The Wolf In The White House Page 7

  “But the sun just rose,” she said.

  “It did. And we are still probably not going to make it until right before sunset.”

  He grabbed her hand and tugged, squeezing to hold on when she pulled away.

  “Come on,” he said again. “There will be plenty of danger over the next few days and weeks. No need to dwell on a little fall.”

  “You’re right,” she said, shaking off her nerves. “Let’s go.”

  “That’s my girl,” he said affectionately, letting her hand go and walking down a narrow, rocky trail with Maci close on his heels.

  She didn’t comment on what he had said, but his words stuck with her. While they walked, she lost herself in thought, wondering at the appearance of this man and the way she found herself responding to his touch and his teasing words. She didn’t usually blush, and she certainly didn’t find the simplest touch a reason for the heat that flooded through her body every time his hand brushed hers. She was going to have to make it a point to watch herself. The clones in Washington weren’t the only danger she was facing.

  Maci followed him into the wilderness, the trail almost undefined and nearly untraveled. Logan moved fast, leaving Maci to keep up or get left behind. More than once, she had to jog to keep up, but Logan was on a mission, and he wasn’t going to slow down. The sun pushing through the tree tops warmed her black clothes, cutting away at the chill that still hung in the air, even though it was nearly spring.

  At least there’s no snow on the ground, she thought, grateful for that one small favor. They had just had a warm spell so much of the snow had melted away in parts of the state. That was good because although her go bag had a hoodie in it, she wasn’t prepared for blizzard conditions.

  They trudged through the trails, stopping to rest and drink water that he had brought in his bag when they needed to. Maci thanked him when he handed her a meal replacement bar on an easier stretch of trail. She ate while she walked, washing down the thick bar with water until the strange aftertaste was gone and she felt her hunger ebb.

  The day passed quickly, and by the time the sun was starting to set, Maci was exhausted.

  “I don’t want to sound like a big, whiny baby,” she said, trying to laugh and failing. “But I’m wondering if we are almost there?”

  “We are almost there,” he said, smiling.

  “Where is there?” she asked, looking at the endless wilderness stretching out before them and seeing nothing that was different than the last fifteen or twenty miles they had traveled in the almost twelve hours since they had first abandoned the car in the barn on the hill.

  He took a few steps ahead, beckoning her and pointing out into an area that was wide and open, though the tree canopy still partially obstructed the view of the sky.

  “There,” he said, pointing so far in the distance that Maci almost groaned in frustration.

  And then she saw it, and she almost whooped in delight.

  “Is that what I think it is?” she asked, too excited to hide it.

  “Yep. That is one of our villages, and that cabin you see just there on the edge of the clearing is mine.”

  “Wow,” she said. “Now that I know what I’m looking at, I see a lot of cabins.”

  “They’re built to match the landscape.”

  “What’s on top of the roofs?”

  “Solar panels.”

  “What? How in the world did those even get here?”

  “When the government put us here for the protection of the human species, part of the settlement was materials and funds to purchase them so we could build our own towns without living on the grid and burdening the human system. My father and his friends were smart; they used what they could from the land, and they purchased solar panels and rainwater collection units. They made the cabins with modern conveniences that make it easy to forget that we are almost twenty miles from the nearest fire service road and thirty miles from the nearest paved road.”

  “It must have been quite a pain to get all these things here,” she said, feeling in awe of the resourcefulness of people when they needed to be.

  “It was a lot of work. Don’t worry; if you so much as smile at my dad, he’ll tell you stories until your ears bleed.”

  “Your dad lives here?”

  “And my mother. My family lives here.” He paused for an eternity, then said, “I live here.”

  “I thought you had a house in Falls Church,” she said.

  “I do, but it’s only because of working for SSE. It’s not my home, and it never will be.”

  “Oh,” she said, not sure what to say.

  The wind kicked up, blowing down the trail and pulling her soft brown hair off her shoulders. With it came the scents of the village, and her mouth instantly watered.

  “Mmmm,” she said.

  “What?”

  “It smells like someone is cooking dinner, and I’m starving.”

  She took off, walking so fast that she was almost running, a chuckling Logan right behind her.

  “You might want to wait for me,” he said. “Humans aren’t exactly welcome here.”

  “I trust you,” she said. “You wouldn’t bring me here if they were going to hurt me.”

  He stopped, tugging on her hand and stopping her so that she had to look at him.

  “Do you mean it?” he asked, his eyes searching hers as he waited for her answer. “Do you trust me?”

  “I do,” she said, looking into his brown eyes and smiling. “I don’t know when it happened, but I really do.”

  “Probably when I saved your life,” he said, his tone only half joking.

  “Which time?” she asked softly.

  He smiled, brushing the backs of his knuckles against her cheek and pushing her hair back away from her face. When his rough hand settled on her cheek, she trembled. She stood there, rooted in place, completely unaware of their surroundings and lost in his eyes. She was holding her breath, waiting for him to say something or kiss her. She wasn’t sure which was going through his mind. She wasn’t entirely sure that she wouldn’t welcome the latter.

  He blinked, taking his hand from her face quickly like he hadn’t realized he was touching her and walking away.

  “Come on,” he said, sounding almost irritated. “Dinner goes quickly, and if you don’t get there before people start eating, you’ll go to bed hungry tonight.”

  “I’m sorry,” she blurted out, not sure what had happened.

  “Sorry for what?”

  “I don’t know. Whatever I did to upset you.”

  He shook his head.

  “Don’t be sorry,” he said from beside her, but he didn’t look at her. “Just keep trusting me, and go along with what I say. Like I said, there are a few wolves who might not be happy that I brought you here. So whatever I say, no matter what it is, you have to promise me that you’ll agree and not contradict me.”

  “I promise,” she said.

  “Thank you. Things will go much smoother that way.” He took a deep breath, smiling. “I hope you like venison,” he said. “They’re making my favorite, so I’m sure they made enough for us both.”

  “How does anyone know you’re coming?”

  “I sent out a mental call to my dad. We might not be able to read human minds, but we can read each other’s minds.”

  “Really?”

  “No,” he laughed, looking at her, realizing she had really fallen for it and laughing again. “No. They have trail cameras set up to keep humans from venturing this far accidentally. I saw one in the bushes just after lunch, and I saw the shutter close when it took a picture. My mother must have seen it because it smells like stew in a bread bowl. That is her specialty and my favorite. I hope you’re ready to taste a bit of heaven tonight.”

  “You almost got me,” she said, jabbing him in the ribs playfully.

  “I fooled you. It’s okay if you admit it. I won’t tell anyone that you’re gullible. Get ready because my family is a little crazy.”

/>   “How many of these people are your family?” she asked, counting off at least ten cabins just within their sight alone and wondering how many people lived in each one.

  “They’re all my family,” he said without hesitation. “This is my pack, and they are all part of my family.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The buzzing in his ears was what he noticed first. It was a constant whoosh sound, not unlike the sound of his own heartbeat. He tried to open his eyes, but they were heavy and felt like sandpaper against the dry orbs in his eye sockets.

  He heard a groan, then groaned again when he realized that the sound was coming from his own mouth. His throat was dry, sticking to itself with each breath, his lips feeling cracked and dry as he grimaced against the pain that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

  He tried opening his eyes again, and this time, he was able to open them just a hair. But his vision was blurry, and the dim light from the bare bulb hurt his eyes so much that he closed them again.

  The constant whoosh continued, getting louder as he tried to move, and he realized that the noise was the pounding of his head between his ears. His entire body was throbbing, but his head felt as if it was in a vice grip, slowly being squeezed until it would eventually burst.

  He gave up on opening his eyes for a moment, focusing on the rest of his body, checking for broken bones one appendage at a time. He was able to move his toes inside his shoes, but they tingled with the blood that had pooled in them from laying on his side for who knew how long. His left arm tingled and shot little fireworks of pain along his nerves when he attempted to clench and unclench his left fist. He took the pain silently, his mind clearing somewhat so that he started to remember why he was where he was. Wherever he was.

  He remembered the zip and sizzle of the stun gun, then the mystery men giving him something that he had thought was killing him. He was relieved to be alive, but when kidnappers kept you alive, that came with its own set of complications.

  “Don’t try to move too much right now,” a voice said in the darkness.

  The sound set his head to pounding more violently, even though he knew that the voice in the darkness had only whispered.

  “They have already been here today to leave us food. They won’t be back until tomorrow,” the voice continued. “Are you thirsty?”

  He nodded, then immediately wished that he hadn’t. Almost immediately, he felt something against his lips. Or maybe he had passed out briefly. He really didn’t know.

  The water trickled into his mouth. Swallowing was laborious at first, the cool liquid burning on its way down.

  “Take your time,” the voice said. “We are not going anywhere.”

  He didn’t answer, focusing instead on using the drops of water trickling slowly to wet his dry mouth and lips. The man was silent, as if he knew that Chad was in excruciating pain and every breath, every sound, was killing him.

  Chad felt something cool and damp against his head, and the headache eased somewhat, if only for a moment. When the man moved the wet cloth over Chad’s eyes, the relief was overwhelming. He sighed heavily, his breath shuddering audibly.

  “I remember my eyes hurt so bad when I woke up,” the man in the darkness said. “Do you know what day it was when you were brought here?”

  “March tenth?” Chad croaked. “I think it was March tenth.”

  The man sucked in a deep breath.

  “I almost wish I hadn’t asked,” the man said, a heavy sadness in his voice.

  “How long have you been here?” Chad asked.

  “It’s better if we don’t talk about that,” the man said. “Are you hungry? Do you feel like you can eat?”

  “Just thirsty,” Chad said quietly. “Have you been here long?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know what they want?”

  “With us? Nothing but for us to stay out of their way. But as for what their endgame is, I have no idea.”

  “Are there more people here?”

  “No. Everyone else is being held in other rooms. If they’re still alive. I haven’t been out in the general area much.”

  “What is this place?”

  “It’s an institution that was built then lost its funding before it ever had any patients.”

  “How did you find that out?”

  “I heard some of the workers talking.”

  “Is there a way to get out of here?”

  “No. All of the doors lock automatically, and there’s really no way to get out of here.”

  “Have you tried?”

  “No, but others have. It didn’t go well.”

  “So, you’re just doing what?”

  “I’m watching and waiting. They’ll slip up eventually, and then we’ll get out. But I’m not leaving until we can get everyone out.”

  “Good of the many?”

  “No, we are stronger together. If I get out alone, I have no idea what outside looks like. I don’t even know if we are still in America, so it would be pointless to leave alone. If it’s just me, and we are in the jungle somewhere, or in a foreign land, we’ll be safer in a large group.”

  “How many people do you think there are being held captive?”

  “At least thirty. That is, if everyone I’ve seen come through is still alive.”

  Chad took a deep breath, trying to absorb everything the man was telling him.

  “I don’t understand how you’re seeing so many if they’re keeping everyone separate.” A horrible thought occurred to him then. “Wait, have all your roommates been killed?”

  “No, nothing like that. I’m just the unofficial greeter of new prisoners.”

  “Why?”

  “I guess that seeing me and knowing that I’m calm and collected helps people feel better. I’m sure they listen in on the conversations, and they know that I’m convincing everyone to stay calm and not to try anything rash.”

  “But then they would hear you saying that we should escape together.”

  “I’m sure they have, but this place is a fortress. I’m pretty sure they don’t believe that we can ever escape, so they’re not worried about it.”

  Chad felt the man’s hands on his shoulders, and the cloth was removed from his head.

  “Do you think you can sit up? I can help you.”

  Chad nodded, happy that the pain from just minutes ago seemed to be less intense.

  “I think I can,” he said softly.

  Then man helped him up, propping him against a wall and holding his shoulders until he was steady.

  “I’m good,” Chad said when he finally felt steady upright.

  Chad cracked his eyes again, blinking against the blinding light of the single bulb and trying to focus.

  “It takes a while to shake off what the drugs they gave you do to you. Try not to panic just because everything is still blurry.”

  “Good to know,” Chad said. “What about the heaviness?”

  “That will fade, too. In a day or two, you’ll feel like yourself again. It won’t really do you any good, but you’ll feel normal at least.”

  “Do you work for the government, too?” Chad asked the man, who was still a blurry mass in front of him, no matter how much Chad squinted.

  “I do. I recognize you, too. You’re FBI, right?”

  “I am. I’ve been undercover as SSE, too, trying to get close to the President. Well, not the actual President, but the man claiming to be the President.”

  “You weren’t able to get close?”

  “Yes and no. I was trying to get close to Maci, his number one. But she’s a rock, and she doesn’t mess around. I tried to bond with her over being SSE, and she blew me off like I was some kind of fool.”

  The man laughed heartily.

  “What?” Chad wondered.

  “You would probably get the clone to admit he’s a clone before you could crack Maci. She’s tough as nails.”

  “Do you know her?”

  “I’ve known her for
most of her life,” the man said.

  Chad blinked, trying to focus on the man’s face. The voice was familiar, but Chad’s pounding head was making it so hard to focus on the simplest things.

  “I feel like I can’t get my thoughts in order,” he said.

  “It’s the drugs. It will wear off in another hour or so, and you’ll feel good as new. Well, not new because you’ll still be trapped in this cell with only me for company until they bring in another and I’ll be moved again.”

  “I know that I know you.”

  “I would hope you do.”

  The man stepped closer, and Chad blinked again. This time, the man finally came into focus, and Chad gasped.

  “Mr. President,” he said. “You’re alive.”

  “I am,” Archer said, his voice amused.

  “I knew I wasn’t crazy when I said that you were replaced by a clone.”

  “It was you who figured it out? I’m impressed.”

  “I had my suspicions. But when you didn’t recognize me when I covered the Thanksgiving party when one of the other Secret Service men got sick, I knew that I was right.”

  “He probably thought you were FBI.”

  “And I was still functioning as FBI outwardly, but I went undercover as SSE. You’re not the only one I suspected of being a clone, but-”

  “But when you came to me about Speaker Silas James, I thought you might be onto something, and I approved appointing you to SSE. That was something that wasn’t public record, so the clone and whomever sent him couldn’t have known that conversation took place.”

  “Then, when I said something to you at Thanksgiving party, you asked me why I was there. I almost reminded you that I was SSE, then I thought better of it. I watched you, and when your clone went on vacation, I compared photos.”

  “The scar,” Archer said. This time, he smiled. “Clever. I don’t even think about the scar, I’ve had it for so long.”

  “It’s going to be harder to out the other clones. I don’t think that every politician has a physical tell that will set them apart from the clones.”

  “They don’t, but the one thing that the clones do have is the real person trapped here.”

  “Too bad we don’t know where ‘here’ is.”