Anarchy Found (SuperAlpha, #1)(5)

“Don’t,” I warn myself. Whatever he’s doing, wherever he’s going, it’s none of my business.

But then he brings out his phone and tabs a few things to make the gate in the mountain begin to lift up. There’s nothing beyond but a very dark tunnel.

Yeah, he’s a creeper. Probably a criminal. Most likely a deviant, and a freak, and that just goes perfectly with the fact that he’s an *.

I put the truck in reverse just as he disappears inside. I back up, forgetting that I have a f*cking trailer hitched, and immediately make a mistake.

My foot slams down on the brake and I put the truck back in park. Just calm down, Molly. You know how to pull a trailer. You could do this blindfolded.

I check both mirrors, memorize the road behind me, and close my eyes.

The whole world floats away as I put the truck back in reverse and fix my mistake.

I’m Molly Masters. Daughter of Crazy Bill and sister to Wild Will, world-famous stunt riders. I grew up on a dirt bike and I can back a trailer up blindfolded.

I open my eyes, calm again.

Now back to the business at hand. Putting my dead brother’s bikes to rest. I back the trailer up a little more, then angle it into a small turnout and pull forward to head back the way I came.

I get about ten feet before the wheels start spinning. So I shift into four-wheel drive and try again. This time I get about five feet before I slip and slide a little over to the edge of the road.

Bike boy wasn’t kidding. His road is tricky.

Asshole.

I try again and again and again. I put it into two-wheel drive, four-wheel drive, get out, find some pine branches and stuff them under the wheels, get back in, try it again. And the only thing I accomplish is getting even more stuck in the mud.

I hate my life. My life sucks because…

I’m stuck in the mud.

I’m sad.

My brother is dead.

My father is dead.

My mother is insane.

I will never make this appointment.

This will not be the first day of the rest of my life.

I might die out here in the mountains.

My only hope is some crazy * who lives in a tunnel.



I sit there for several seconds trying to think of a number ten because my particular brand of OCD likes to round things when it has a chance. And ten is a perfect list, right? But I’m grateful and hopeful about the new job. So I’m out of bad stuff to complain about.

I feel better though. So I get out and follow bike boy’s tracks into the darkness.

Little red lights line the tunnel. It sorta reminds me of an airport runway. The mud turns to concrete about twenty feet in and there’s a small light up ahead. I’m really not sure what to expect, so I get my gun out just in case.

A few paces on and the tunnel turns sharply to the left where the light is brighter. I can hear yelling. Bike boy is yelling.

Someone is talking back to him, but he’s laughing too. I let out my breath and relax a little as I creep forward into the chamber. The first thing I see is the wrecked bike mounted on a red mechanic’s lift. Then toolboxes, some weird contraption that looks like a… robot, rolling around? A computer, then another, and another. A whole wall of computers, actually. Food wrappers and half-empty protein shake containers. Parts. A black muscle car. A long table lined with shit that looks like pieces from a chemistry lab. And a massive aquarium-sized tank holding luminescent jellyfish.

All this time bike boy is yelling and waving those black-gloved hands in the air, splashing a protein drink all over the floor.

“What the f*ck, Case? I told you not to mess with my bike, you *.”

“I didn’t touch your bike, Lincoln.”

“Stay the f*ck out of my business. I crashed the goddamned bike and had to hitch a ride home and Sheila is somehow offline. Offline! You motherf*cker!”

“Calm down,” Case says. “She’s not gonna miss anything being offline for a few minutes. In fact, if I were you I’d be asking how it’s possible she got knocked off so easy. Doesn’t that strike you as weird?” It comes from a giant face on a wall-sized flat screen mounted on the side of a… cave? What the f*ck? “And you lost your right to work alone months ago, so don’t get all self-righteous about me being around today.”

“What’s that supposed to—“

“Hey, *,” the guy on the screen says over bike boy’s tantrum, cutting him off.

“I didn’t need this complication—” Bike boy stops talking. Because the guy on the screen is waggling his eyebrows at me. “What the f*ck are you doing?” bike boy asks. “Stop making stupid faces—”

“We have com-pan-eee.” The guy on the giant screen nods his head at me.

Bike boy whirls around, shoots me a dirty look, and then growls, “I’ll call you back,” as the giant screen goes black.

We stare at each other for a few moments, our eyes locked. “Oh, my—”

“You’re still here,” he says over me.

“—God.” I look around one more time.

Cave filled with…

Super bike.

Souped-up muscle car.

Giant flatscreen phone chat.

Computers everywhere.

Robot?

Some kind of science lab.

A few loud beeps interrupt my list. “Online,” a female voice says from the ceiling. A pause, and then, “There has been a breach and we have a visitor.” A hologram in the form of a woman appears in the middle of the cave and I can only assume this is…