Page 31 of Shattered Fears

Her father nodded.

“What do you want in exchange for them?”

“Nothing.” Nuka stepped back from her father, and Isobel wanted nothing better than to smack the intruder in the face.

“Nothing?” her father asked suspiciously

“I’ve been hiding this secret for a long time now. They’re dangerous and need to be dealt with.”

“They don’t look dangerous to me,” she snapped at him

“Isobel. Stay out of this,” her father admonished her.

“No.” She stood up to him, and his eyes widened in astonishment. “How do we know he’s not making all this up to make you look like a fool? For all we know, he could be one of them.” She glared at Kas’ brother.

Her father handed the pictures to the reporter. She was desperate to see if there was one of Zain in there, but she couldn’t snatch them.

“We don’t, Isobel. We have to trust this gentleman is doing his bit to help the public.”

Nuka bowed his head and reached into his pocket again. He pulled out what looked like another photo.

“All of those pictures are taken at Glacial National Park, including this one. I hadn’t wanted to show you it for I felt it was a step too far, but I fear for your daughter.” He turned it over. There in the photo was Kingsley outside of the Glacial Blood mansion. She gasped.

“My son.” Her father snatched the picture. “What are you saying? He’s one of them? They’ve turned him.”

Her father may not have heard it, but she certainly did. The snort of annoyance coming from Nuka at her father’s stupid reasoning. Even she knew that this was ignorance of the unknown, on her father’s part.

“I don’t know what they do, but your son visits with them.” Nuka glanced at her. “I only hope your daughter hasn’t been led down the same path.”

Her father looked at her.

“Isobel?”

“No,” she exclaimed with disgust.

Her father pulled out a phone from his pocket and dialed.

“Hello, it’s Senator Ross. Yes. Eight, Nine, Alpha, Gamma, Three, Seven, Delta, Tango.” Isobel knew the number was his authorization code to speak to higher authorities in the country. Her father pulled the phone down from his ear. He swiped to an app, tapped his finger on it, and then put the phone back to his ear.

“Hello, Sir, yes, I’ve got further proof. I want to implement Project Transposition at once. I think the epidemic may be worse than first thought and infecting humans.” Her father bristled. “Yes, Sir. At once. Thank you.”

Her father ended the call and put the phone down on the table in front of him. He held his hands out to the reporter, requesting him to return the pictures. The tension in the room was palpable.

“Thank you,” her father said to the reporter. “You may leave us. I’ll be in touch.” The reporter didn’t argue and left the room. Something was wrong: a reporter on the verge of a big story who didn’t put up an argument at being told to go.

Her father turned to Nuka.

“Mr. Lincoln. Thank you for all of this. I’ll put your information to good use. I’d like to talk to you further on the matter. Are you able to leave me contact details?”

Her father was scaring her now. He was like a different man. He’d lost the causal air, which he usually displayed, and this business-like manner was freaking her out. She backed away.

“Isobel. Sit down.” She froze and did as she was told. Her body obeying even when her brain was telling her to run.

Nuka sniffed the air.

“Ciaran.” His voice sent a shiver through her. “Time to go.”

The next thing she knew, they disappeared into thin air just before men with guns came flooding into the room. She rubbed her eyes. What the hell was going on?

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