Domination (A C.H.A.O.S. Novel) - By Jon Lewis Page 0,44

charts, you’re acting like an idiot,” Oz said.

“Wait a minute.” Everyone turned to look at Ethan, who was studying a holomap that was hovering over a metal disc in the middle of the room. “This is it, right? Your hometown?”

Jonas nodded but didn’t say anything.

“It’s the place where the military blocks transmissions so they can test stuff,” Ethan said.

“Yes,” Glyph said, his eyes lighting up. “It’s the exact coordinates of the United States National Radio Quiet Zone.”

“Is your dad some kind of super scientist who works for the government?” Grey asked. “You know, like Leonard Nimoy?”

“I believe Cadet Arnold meant to say Nikkola Tesla,” Glyph said. “Leonard Nimoy is an American actor, film director, poet, musician, and—”

“We get it, Wikipedia,” Oz said, cutting him off. “He was on some boring science fiction show. Whatever. Can we get back to the whole gateway thing?”

“Help us understand,” Danielle said. “Is the Radio Quiet Zone supposed to be a secret?”

Jonas sighed. “Not exactly.”

“Then you know that if you’re right—if the gateway opens up in your hometown—it’s going to trigger what amounts to nuclear fission,” Danielle said. “And the entire state of West Virginia is going to get ripped open like a Christmas present. There won’t be anything left.”

Jonas closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and looked at Colt. “I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “Let me go there and verify the data. If their readings match the report, then I’ll make the call myself.”

“And what are we supposed to do in the meantime? Sit around and wait?” Oz said. “What if the Thule open the gateway before you get there?”

“For all we know, the data could be off,” Jonas said, his chin up and shoulders back as he stood in front of Oz. “Someone . . . well, something could have infiltrated the Tesla Society and planted false data.”

“Why would they do that?” Oz said.

“To divert us from the real gateway,” Danielle said.

“Wait, you’re on his side?”

“It makes sense,” Danielle said. “If we call it in and we’re wrong, they’ll never believe us again.”

“They don’t believe you now.” Oz turned to Colt. “It’s your call, but if you ask me, we should call it in.”

“Please,” Jonas said. “Give me twenty-four hours. That’s all I’m asking.”

: :

CHAPTER 31 : :

What about our patrol, Squad Leader Colt McAlister?” Glyph said. “We’re supposed to be in Strasburg at precisely 1930, and if I get court-martialed for defying orders, my parents will send me to the work camps on the third moon of—”

“Relax,” Colt said. “We’ll stop in Strasburg, and if we find anything, Bravo Team can stay behind while we head to Sanctuary.”

“I could go by myself,” Jonas said.

“No way,” Oz said. “Too dangerous.”

“He’s hiding something,” Pierce said. “Why else would he want to sneak away?”

“Leave him alone,” Danielle said.

“Look at the way he’s sweating,” Pierce said. “It’s obvious. He’s totally hiding something.”

“Did you ever think he might be sweating because we’re staring at him?”

“It’s more than that, isn’t it, Hickman?” Pierce glared at Jonas, who turned away without saying a word. “That’s what I thought.”

As much as he hated to admit it, Colt had a feeling that Pierce was right. Jonas was hiding something. But if Jonas and Danielle had pinpointed the coordinates for the Thule gateway, then there was a chance they could shut it down before the Thule launched their full-scale invasion.

“I’m not trying to sneak away,” Jonas said, his shoulders slumped as he stared at the ground. “It’s just that . . .”

“What?” Colt asked.

“Nothing,” Jonas said, though he was clearly frustrated. “Can we at least take a van instead of the Humvees? I don’t want the people of Sanctuary to think they’re under attack.”

They decided to stick to the back roads where they could avoid the tangled mess of freeways in and around Washington as tens of thousands fled the nation’s capital.

Even the small towns were deserted. Cars had been abandoned along the side of the road, and the lights were off in all the homes. They passed a pharmacy where a sign had been posted letting everyone know that the entire inventory had been donated to the Red Cross, and someone had spray-painted a skull and crossbones and the words Kill Them All across a school bus. The skull looked like an alien.

“Ignore it, Glyph,” Colt said. “They’re just scared, that’s all.”

They arrived at Strasburg twenty minutes early. Save for a few stubborn souls, the town was deserted like everywhere else. Colt offered to sweep through