Page 35 of Love at First Sighting
“Great,” Leonard says. “Is the coast clear?”
I put my finger up to my lips and listen closely to every sound around me. There are waves lapping in the background, thedistant rush of traffic, Carter’s anxious breathing. Somewhere deep in the mix is a mechanical whirring sound I recognize in my bones. I reach out, grab Carter’s jacket sleeve, and direct him toward a floating anomaly in the sky. He nods in recognition and we both sink lower.
I’ve worn better shoes today—a pair of practical vegan sneakers I got through a sponsorship. I don’t mind getting these pants dirty, either, so when the craft circles near us, I drop to the ground, lying completely flat, with Carter beside me. He pulls his hat down as far as he can, covering as much of his face as possible.
“I hope these things don’t have heat sensors.”
“Why? Are you hot?”
Carter lifts up the brim of his trilby, revealing a devilish smirk. “I don’t know. You tell me.” Before I groan, he says, “But yeah, seriously, I am. I wear a suit and this is LA.”
“You’ve got a hell of a cologne, then.”
“Aw, you think I smell good,” Carter mumbles to the ground.
The whirring comes closer and I look to Carter, who seems less afraid this time than he did before. Instead of fear or shock, he’s determined. His family was torn apart many years ago, and this is how he finds answers. This is how he moves on.
I reach for his hand as the craft circles above us. Carter only glances at me for a second before weaving our fingers together. I hope we look like odd-shaped rocks, or dead bodies. The drone veers toward the hillside next to us and dips behind the bushes. This is our chance.
“Get up!” I snap.
I pull him to his feet, then we’re vaulting over rocks and bushes as we make our break for the door. That craft willcome back around and we need to be out of sight before then. Carter finds my hand and clasps my fingers in his as we run. I lead him down the embankment and around a series of jagged rocks until we arrive at the steel door positioned into the mountain. It’s supposed to look like a big, discreet rock, but it doesn’t. This is a drugstore-brand concealer level of effort.
“We’re at the door,” Carter says into the earpiece. Gears shift behind the door. “We’ve gotta get in before that drone comes back.”
“Gotcha,” Leonard says back.
Finally, there’s a beep and the door unlatches for us. I pull Carter inside and slam the door behind us.
“All right, you’re in. Looks like you’re coming up on a set of stairs that’ll take you down into the archives. I’ve got control of the cameras and can erase the footage from here,” Leonard instructs.
“Thanks, buddy,” Carter says.
The inside smells like stale air and cold steel. We take careful steps toward the end of the hallway and a rickety metal staircase that creaks as Carter sets a single foot on it.
“I told you we were underfunded,” he whispers.
“You weren’t kidding.”
As I reach the lower level, Carter holds a hand out for me and I take it. Then he quickly nudges me behind him.
“Holy shit,” he mutters.
What stands before us is aisle upon aisle of shelves holding filing boxes and a row of computers near the back of a frigid basement. The ground is made of cracked concrete, and the ceiling is lined with harsh fluorescents. When was the last time anyone even went through these? No wonder they’re getting rid of files. It’s like a hoarding situation in here.
As I step inside with him, I latch on to his dark jacket, and out of instinct he reaches behind and clutches my wrist. It saysI got youand I’m not used to the feeling.
“You’re invisible,” Leonard instructs.
“Great,” I say. “Let us know if anyone’s coming.”
Carter paces forward, his fingers skimming the boxes. With each touch, fibers rub off the cardboard boxes and flutter to the floor. I follow Carter as he investigates, matching his composure carefully. He’s the agent, after all.
Every sound we make feels deafening when we know it could tip someone off to our location. As much as I trust Leonard to guide us, we might run into an unforeseen enemy down here all on our own. Computers beep softly and the harsh hum of a generator echoes through the building. Even the squeak of Carter’s sneakers feels like a roar in here. Of course this is when I have to sneeze.
“Salud,”Carter whispers.
There are six rows of floor-to-ceiling filing cabinets and little indication of how things are sorted. Carter moves down the center lane, eyeing the tab on each box. He slides one off the shelf and flips the top open.
