River Sanchez's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

River climbed down the bus steps with Cedar's backpack over one shoulder. The desert wind pushed heat against his face. He had no idea where to go next. The bus was empty. The chief had told him to quit. Every minute out here was another minute Cedar drifted further from him. A man in overalls and a wide hat stepped out from behind the utility pole. His beard was white and full. He pointed a finger at River's chest and did not lower his voice. Conspiracy Joe said the lights had been coming for months. He said the buses were just the start. He said River should look up, not down, if he wanted his boy back. Soleia tried to steer him off. Joe kept talking about the sky until River grabbed Soleia's arm and walked past him to the truck. They drove back to the motel in silence. River parked at the far end of the lot so the front desk would not see them. He was climbing out when Soleia touched his wrist and pointed. Behind the motel, past a chain-link fence, a small wooden shed sat in the dirt. Martin was crossing the lot toward it in his teal cap. He looked over his shoulder twice. He unlocked the shed and stepped inside, and the door began to swing shut. River moved. He grabbed a fist-sized rock from the edge of the lot and ran low along the fence. The door was six inches from closing when he threw. The rock wedged in the gap. The door bounced against it and stopped. River waited, breathing through his teeth. Nothing moved inside. He waved Soleia over. They pulled the door open together and stepped in. The shed was empty. Metal shelves lined one wall, stacked with jars and boxes. A bare bulb hung from the ceiling. Martin was gone. Soleia turned in a slow circle. River scanned the floor. A canvas sack of flour sat in the middle of the boards, out of place among the shelves. He dragged it aside. Under it, set into the floor, was a small metal hatch with a recessed handle. He lifted it. A ladder dropped into the dark. They climbed down. The tunnel at the bottom was cool and smelled like wet stone. Bare wires ran along the ceiling. They followed the passage around one bend, then another, until light spilled from an open doorway. River flattened against the wall and looked in. The room was carved out of rock. Three monitors glowed on a desk. A corkboard hung above it, crowded with photos and red string. River saw Cedar's school picture pinned in the center. In the office chair, back to the door, sat Martin. He was watching the screens and typing.