Angels Mark (The Serena Wilcox Dystopian Trilogy Book 1)

Angels Mark Chapter 10

10

“Clyde, I’m in trouble,” Paul began. The brothers were in their parents’ kitchen again. Clyde was frying bacon and making coffee while Paul leaned heavily on the table, standing over it with both arms locked at the elbows, hands planted on the tablecloth with fingers outstretched. His head was hanging low, his boyish locks falling forward. Clyde thought he looked about twelve. Bailing him out of trouble had been as routine then as it was now. “Did you hear me, Clyde?”

“I heard you. I knew you were in trouble the moment you walked in the door. I told you not to do that Kinji thing. She’s smart and a woman, two reasons why she’s not worth it.”

“No, it’s not her. John Williams is blackmailing me. He found out what I was doing.”

“What? How did he know?” Paul had Clyde’s full attention now.

“He has a bug in Kinji’s office. He knew everything, and he had me in his cross hairs.”

“What does he want with you?” Clyde felt a familiar stirring within him. It was the same force that had led him to despicable acts in the past; all to protect his little brother… or, maybe, it was beyond that. It was a hunger, a craving, and his protective nature was an excuse? Possibly, but why then did he not act on these urges unless Paul was in trouble? No, this was about protecting family. Clyde was not a psycho, of that he was sure.

“He wants me to kill somebody.”

“He what?” Clyde laughed, thinking Paul was making a clever joke. He had him going, what a corker that brother of his. Clyde laughed until his belly shook. Only when he stopped to take a breath did he notice that Paul wasn’t laughing with him. Paul was still frozen in his stance over the table, arms holding his body up, head bent; a beaten man, a scared man, a fugitive. Clyde sank into a kitchen chair, the bacon left to grow cold on the counter.

“He sent his nephew to give me the message. If I don’t kill Serena Wilcox, he’ll have me put in prison and then they’ll have me killed in there, in prison.”

“Serena who?”

“She’s a former private detective. She’s one of ours, Clyde.”

“What do you mean, one of ours? Our Off Grid people?”

“Yes. She has three kids, husband. We set them up in Goodhue. We gave them the new name of Meadows. Before that they were the Browns, no, the Bridges.”

“Okay, yeah, I think I know who you’re talking about. Why do they want her dead? What does she know?”

“She knows something big, Clyde. I can’t believe it. The government knew about the attacks before they happened. She has proof, e-mail proof sent from an Iranian woman.”

“Our government?”

“Yes, our own. We knew and didn’t do anything.”

Clyde sucked air between his teeth and then exhaled slowly with a prolonged wispy whistle. “Paul, they were never after you. They were following her. We made it easy for them. They’ve been watching us all along. They know me too, don’t they?”

“Yes, they know you. They know about your computer lab, and they’re calling Off Grid a cult.”

“It is a cult. Sort of, anyway. Just a big sham, and I suppose they know that too, don’t they?”

“They know all about us, they think we’re buffoons. When I showed up at the tarmac, they had to be laughing their asses off.”

“We know nothing about them. That will change.”