Collision: Book One Read online

  COLLISION

  Book One

  L. N. Carson

  Grace Abraham Publishing

  Copyright © 2020 Washington Cooper, Inc./Grace Abraham Publishing

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Introduction

  COLLISION is a serial and should be read in order. The story follows Kathleen and Sam as they flee a corrupt government agent who will do anything necessary to take back sensitive research materials Sam stole.

  This is book one. I hope you enjoy it!

  -L. N. Carson

  Chapter One

  Kathleen Freemont was on her way to jump off a bridge. The beautiful mid-July day was hot, but not unbearably so. Cotton-candy clouds were scattered about the sky, and the only darkness besides the black of her cat’s eye sunglasses was Metallica’s “Fade to Black” blasting from the CD player in her red Camaro. Kathleen had never been much into metal music, but this song spoke to her. It was too late to save herself.

  She expertly wound around the hairpin curves. She’d never traveled this particular mountain road before, but the bridge she planned to jump from was in a remote area of East Tennessee, and her phone’s GPS told her this was the fastest route.

  The route was favored by motorcyclists. She’d met many along the drive, and now the rider coming up behind her was about to pass. In a curve. On a narrow road with no guardrails on either side. Just a long, craggy drop in both directions.

  Kathleen felt a surge of excitement for herself and for the motorcyclist, and she didn’t slow to make it easier for him. He was ballsy enough to pass on this curve—let him make the most of it.

  She’d like to be on the back of that bike, her hands resting on the man’s trim waist, leaning into the curve. She’d never learned to drive a motorcycle. Watching the bike glide around her car and swing into the next curve made her regret that fact.

  She did brake as she rounded the next bend and saw a doe and her fawn standing in the road. The pair bounded off into the forest, and Kathleen smiled slightly as she drove on. They were beautiful. If people were more like animals, maybe this world would be a better place.

  * * *

  Sam Garnett had a sneaking suspicion something was wrong with his bike. The steering was heavy and sluggish when he swerved to miss that deer a second ago, and now there was an unusual vibrating in the front part of the bike. He needed to stop and check it out.

  Beneath his black mesh riding jacket and white t-shirt, Sam’s back was sticky with sweat despite the wind whipping through him. He looked for a place where he could pull off the road but be hidden while he checked the bike. The numerous curves made it hard to see more than fifty yards ahead, but there had to be a dirt road or a walking path he could turn onto soon.

  Sam hadn’t thought he’d be running from his employer when he’d gone into work this morning. But then he’d voiced strong opposition to his commander, Amun-Ra about continuing Project FME. Amun-Ra had disagreed, naturally, and prevailed. He’d suggested that Sam take a day or two off work to clear his head. Perhaps Amun-Ra had found someone else willing to create his cyborg animals, someone who fully adhered to the concept of the ends justifying the means. Not being as ignorant as Amun-Ra apparently believed him to be, Sam had taken his research and the remaining microchips with him when he’d left the compound. Nobody simply quit the DPA—it was akin to being a member of the Corleone family.

  And now the steering on his motorcycle was getting tighter and tighter.

  Shit.

  * * *

  Less than a mile from where he’d passed her, Kathleen spotted the motorcyclist lying pinned beneath his bike. Gasping, she pulled as far to the side of the road as possible, threw the gear shift into park, turned on her four-way flashers, and went to help the man.

  The first thing she did was turn off the bike’s engine. “Are you all right? Let’s get this bike off you and get you out of the road.”

  “If you can grab the handlebars and pull, I’ll push.”

  Kathleen did as he instructed and within seconds, the man was standing by the motorcycle with his helmet tucked under his arm glaring down at the one bent handlebar in disgust. The front tire was rapidly losing air.

  “There’s no way I can ride this thing out of here.”

  “Move it to the side of the road, and we’ll call for a tow truck…or flatbed…or whatever. You’re more important than the bike.” The good person inside her wrestled with the one who wanted to ditch this guy and get to the bridge. She glanced at the blood coursing down the side of his face. “And you need to get to a hospital.”

  “I need to get off this road.”

  “We both do before someone drives around that curve and wipes us out. Come with me. I’ve got a first aid kit in my car. Maybe we can get that bleeding stopped, and we’ll call the ambulance—”

  “We don’t have time.”

  At her frown, he continued. “Do you realize how long it’ll take to get an ambulance out here?” He looked past her. “I need to get out of here. Will you take me to the closest medical facility? I’ll pay you.”

  She didn’t answer at once, and he held her gaze. He hadn’t appeared to be this tall when he was hunched over the bike.

  “Fine. I’ll take you. But just so you know, I have a black belt in mixed martial arts in case this is some sort of trick.”

  The man swiped some blood from his temple and showed it to her. “Does this seem like a trick?”

  “Just sayin’.”

  “Can we hurry, please?”

  She nodded, and they both got into the car. He put his helmet and backpack onto the backseat and stared out the back window.

  “The first aid kit is on the floor behind my seat,” she said.

  “Thanks. Go. Please.”

  She put the car into gear, turned off the four ways and pulled out. “As soon as you get the kit, buckle up.”

  “Yeah, sure.” He grabbed the first aid kit, fastened his seat belt, and dug through the small amount of medical supplies. He opened an alcohol wipe and dabbed it on the cut. His quick intake of breath indicated that it burned.

  Kathleen raised her eyebrows at him as she sped along the road. “You know, a butterfly closure might be better on that than a regular bandage.”

  “Right now, I just want to get the bleeding stopped.” He turned his attention to the back window.

  “What are you watching for?”

  He swore under his breath.

  She glanced into the rearview mirror and saw a black SUV rounding the curve. The vehicle pulled to the side where they’d left the bike.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Who’s what?”

  “Quit playing games with me, or I’m putting you out right here,” she snapped.

  “I believe some people are after me.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do I think that or why are they after me?”

  She glared at him before turning her attention back to the road.

  He sighed. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Kathleen’s eyes flicked back to the rearview mirror.

  “I know there’s no reason for you to trust or believe me,” he said, “but they’re after something I invented—”

  “You’re some kind of scientist?”

  “Yeah. And I don’t want those people back there to get their hands on this technology.” A
s she turned this new information over in her mind, he said, “Never introduced myself—my name’s Sam Garnett.”

  “Kathleen Freemont.” What in the world had she gotten herself into? Out of the kindness of her heart, she stopped to help this guy, and now he was feeding her a line about being Walter White or Dr. Strangelove on the run. But was he running from the good guys or the bad guys?

  “So you believe me?” he asked.

  “Maybe.” She tipped her chin at the rearview. “They’re back.”

  He whipped his head around and winced at the pain it caused.

  “Face the front before they see you,” she said. “We’ll lose the people behind us, and you can tell me your whole story.” She caught his raised eyebrows as he turned back in his seat.

  “How’re we going to lose them? We’re in the middle of nowhere on a road that curves every two seconds.”

  She pressed the voice command button on her phone and instructed her navigation system to find the nearest restaurant.

  “A restaurant? Your plan is to go to a restaurant?”

  “My plan is to get off this narrow, deserted road.”

  “In five hundred yards, turn right,” the GPS intoned.

  “Now, if I can keep ahead of them through these next two curves—”

  She sped through the curves, staying as much to the middle of the road as possible, thankful there weren’t any cars coming.

  “Turn right,” instructed the GPS.

  She turned onto the narrow road. “Bingo.”

  There was an old farmhouse up ahead. It was beginning to crumble, so Kathleen guessed it was abandoned. She pulled up the driveway and behind the house.

  “Lie down in the seat until they pass, just in case,” she told Sam as she turned the car off.

  He nodded and slunk down.

  As the GPS spouted additional directions, Kathleen turned it off.

  “Now, tell me what you’re doing out here and who you’re running from.”

  “All right.”

  He paused, either to gather his thoughts or to come up with a story—Kathleen wasn’t sure which.

  “Because of my biological nanotechnology research in graduate school, I was contacted by the government and hired to be in charge of a program called the Fauna Manipulation Experiment—FME.”

  “You mean, CIA? NSA?” she asked.

  “Like them, but these folks are off the books. They recruited me from UNC when I was getting my Ph.D. in nanoscience. My thesis was on biological nanotechnology and they wanted me for this project.” He shrugged. “They paid off my student loans and put me on salary doing the research I love.”

  “What went wrong?”

  “The project.” He sighed. “It went great at first. I developed the technology to control animals by inserting a small silicone chip into their flesh and then remotely—”

  “That’s horrible!”

  “No, it isn’t. It has amazing real-life applications—helping to keep animals from becoming endangered or extinct, using birds of prey to locate poachers so they can be stopped, empowering service animals to do even more to help disabled persons.”

  She inclined her head. His research sounded cool, if it was used for the purposes he mentioned. But in the wrong hands, this technology could be horrific. “So, great job on saving the world. Why are you running?”

  “The applications I was most excited about didn’t fully coincide with the Fauna Manipulation Experiment,” said Sam. “My boss wants to employ the animals solely as weapons.”

  “Weapons.” She kept her voice flat.

  “Yes. And, in theory, cyborg animals should be an excellent tool for national security. You could implant a microchip into a venomous snake and have the snake take out a known terrorist and then disappear into the night. One clean kill, no collateral damage.”

  “In theory.”

  Sam dropped his chin to his chest and rubbed his forehead.

  “What happened?”

  “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this,” he said.

  “And I shouldn’t be helping you. But I figure I haven’t got anything to lose.”

  He raised his head and squinted at her. “Why’s that?”

  She shrugged. “I think they’ve probably headed in the wrong direction by now. Let’s get out of here. You need medical attention.”

  * * *

  Sam studied the profile of the honey blonde-haired woman with the piercing blue eyes. Why was she helping him? And why did she have nothing to lose?

  When he’d left the compound this morning, he’d taken one of two emergency backpacks he kept packed at all times—one at home and one at the compound. The funny thing was Amun-Ra had been the one who’d instructed everyone to have emergency packs. Sam’s backpack contained money, a change of clothing, a gun, ammunition, and a few other necessities, including a first-aid kit. So, no, he hadn’t needed to use Kathleen’s, but he couldn’t risk her seeing what else was inside. It was pretty much a moot point now, since he’d told her about the microchips and their purpose. He must’ve suffered a sharper blow to the head than he’d realized. Maybe he did need medical help.

  But Amun-Ra would be looking for him. And, while no one at the compound seemed to know Amun-Ra’s real name, he certainly knew theirs. Amun-Ra made it a point to know as much as he could about everyone and everything.

  “Listen,” Sam said to Kathleen, “I’d rather not go to a hospital. If you could just get me to a place to rest for a few hours, I’ll be as good as new.”

  “Really.”

  Again with the sassy question that wasn’t a question.

  “Yes, really.”

  Her lips tightened.

  “These people who are looking for me are dangerous,” he said. “Since they saw my bike, the first place they’ll look will be a hospital.”

  “Okay. Fine.”

  “So do you know somewhere? I can pay you.”

  “You don’t need to pay me, Mr. Garnett. I know just the place, and I was heading there anyway.”

  “And where’s that?”

  “Buchanan Falls. I’m gonna jump off a bridge.”

  Had he heard her correctly? “Come again?”

  “I said Buchanan Falls,” Kathleen repeated.

  “But you said you’re gonna jump off a bridge?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Are you suicidal?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “Well, if you’re going to kill yourself, I’d love to buy this car from you. It’s a sweet ride, and I’ll need transportation.”

  She scoffed. “If I die, keep your money. I won’t need it. And you can have the car too.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Stop looking at me.”

  “You never answered my question. Are you suicidal?”

  “Let’s just say I’m a thrill-seeker.”

  She didn’t look the type. She looked like a recent college grad who should have the world by the tail on a downhill pull. What would make her to want to kill herself?

  * * *

  Montu heaved a sigh. “Where do you think he is?”

  “He has to have injuries,” said Hathor. “Did you see those handlebars?”

  “So what? He can’t have called an ambulance. He knows we’d track him down at a hospital.”

  “Some Good Samaritan could’ve called 9-1-1 for him if he was unconscious.” Hathor pinched the bridge of her nose. “But I don’t think so. The engine was still warm when we found the bike, and the emergency crew would still be here cleaning up the wreck. It makes more sense that he got a ride with someone. That’s the only explanation. The way that red Camaro was flying around these curves, I’d say that’s the car he was in.”

  “You think Atum carjacked the Camaro?”

  “I don’t know anything more than you do.”

  “We have to tell him.”

  “I know.” Her words drifted on the tail of the breath she released. “I dread it as much as you do, but it has to be done.
So…speaker?”

  Montu nodded. “He’s gonna be mad—as in, heads-are-gonna-roll mad. Our heads.”

  “I get it! You don’t have to draw me a picture!” She blew out a breath. Yes, Amun-Ra had a violent temper, but he needed them right now. They were the only ones who had a clue about where to find Atum. “It’s better if we call him before he calls us. We’ll make it look like we’ve got a better lead than we do. We’ll say we know Atum is hurt—badly—and that we have him in our sights.”

  “But we don’t.”

  “He doesn’t need to know that, Montu. Let me do the talking.”

  Chapter Two

  “So, what do you do when you’re not jumping off bridges or helping get motorcycles off accident victims?” Sam asked, settling back against the leather passenger seat of the Camaro.

  “I’m a high school science teacher.”

  “Wow. Did not see that coming.”

  “What did you think I did for a living?”

  He shrugged. “Something more exciting than teaching, I guess.”

  “Have you been in a high school classroom lately?” She accelerated to accommodate the change in the speed limit. “It’s more exciting than you’d think.”

  “I guess right now you’re enjoying summer vacation then,” he said.

  “That’s one of the reasons I took the job—roughly two and a half months of summer vacation, another week in the winter and one in spring.”

  “Do you travel?”

  “On a teacher’s salary?” She scoffed. “Not far. I’ve participated in some volunteer archaeological digs and other education-related trips. It’s not summer on the islands, but I enjoyed it.” She glanced over at him. “How long have you been working for the government?”

  “Three years.”

  “And who do you think those people in the SUV are?”

  “I’m guessing Montu and Hathor.”

  “Montu and Hathor?” She raised her eyebrows. “Are they from our government too? Those are really odd names. They sound foreign.”