A Hero in the Dark: 2nd Edition

Chapter 38: Search for Sam

I tell Malcolm and Adam that Sam might be in West Virginia—because they seem needy for something, even if that something is that hellhole.

"What makes you say that?" asks John.

"West Virginia's—"

"It's one of the biggest bases of operations on Earth littered with my people," the Mog—Adam, explains. "I think she's right. If there's anywhere to find Sam, that's a good place to start."

"It's where I was held..." I say. "I know there were others. I just don't know if Sam was there..."

"If he isn't, where else could he be?" Malcolm asks.

"Dulce base. Mexico, I think. I can't remember what it is, but there's an abandoned military facility there—I think it's abandoned anyway, least before the Mogs took it over."

"You think Sam's there?" I nod but tell them Setrákus Ra might be there too. Suddenly, the thought of that monster being in the same place as Sam, the possibility of running into him again, being captured again, all to get Sam out... well, it terrifies me.

"Perfect," Nine claps. "Sounds to me like that solves all problems. You and the Mog find Sammy and we face that big-ass freak. I'll run my pipe staff through his skull."

"You know, that doesn't sound like a bad idea," John agrees. "If we're going, might as well try to stop this war at the same time, right?"

"Hold on," Henri jumps in. "I don't believe you're ready for that. Rescuing Sam, maybe, but fighting the person that annihilated our planet? You've only been together for a few weeks. You've barely had enough time to train as one and hone your skills."

"You're saying that if we run into him, we let him go?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"Hell with that!" Nine shouts. "That fucker locked me up for over a year! I swore on Sandor's life that the minute I got out, it would be the worst minute of his life!"

Nine does have a point, I guess. I don't want to let him go if we run into him, but I sure as hell don't want to run into him; I can't deal with that thrice. I want to find Sam, but I'm... I'm scared. I don't want to be anywhere near him. I can't do it. I just can't.

"Ok, so we'll have a quick training session before we go, a team-building exercise," John remedies. "How's that sound?"

Henri holds his chin. "I guess that works, but I'll be watching each of you closely."

***

4:16, and I still can't sleep. It's not that I'm afraid of seeing another nightmare this time though; I just don't know about tomorrow. What happens if he comes after me again? Days in a cell? Weeks? Months? Longer? More torture? Questions? Experimentation? Helpless, hopeless, alone? I shake my head. I can't do any of that again. I crawl out of bed so as not to wake John and head downstairs. Not even Pixie notices me stir; she's fast asleep, snoring even.

Our new basement's as big as the rest of the house—mansion-sized and impressive. I've never seen anything like it; I'm almost sort of a little bit jealous. Half the space is taken up by training mats, dummies, weights, and a few racks full of weaponry. I find Nine as soon as I get off the stairs, organizing through guns and ammunition. "Damn," I say, an edge to my voice that I can't hide. "How much ammo are you taking?"

"Oh, hey Em," he says and shrugs. "Who knows? Best to be prepared for anything, right?"

"I guess so," I agree—I just don't like the idea. I guess I never really liked the idea of guns, maybe 'cause of dad. With one pull it can all be over. Why would anyone hold one at all?