Lost Time (The Bridge Sequence Book Two) Read online

  Contents

  LOST TIME

  Copyright © 2021

  Books by Nathan Hystad

  Prologue

  Part I The Truth

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  Part II The Token

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  Part III The Unknown

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  Epilogue

  LOST HOPE (THE BRIDGE SEQUENCE BOOK THREE)

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  Copyright © 2021 Nathan Hystad

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover art: J Caleb Design

  Edited by: Christen Hystad

  Edited by: Scarlett R Algee

  Proofed and Formatted by: BZ Hercules

  Books By Nathan Hystad

  Keep up to date with his new releases by signing up for his Newsletter at www.nathanhystad.com

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  Nathan’s books are also available on Audible!

  The Bridge Sequence

  Lost Contact

  Lost Time

  Lost Hope

  Space Race

  Space Race

  Space Battle

  Space Strike

  The Survivors Series

  The Event

  New Threat

  New World

  The Ancients

  The Theos

  Old Enemy

  New Alliance

  The Gatekeepers

  New Horizon

  The Academy

  Old World

  New Discovery

  Old Secrets

  The Deities

  New Beginning

  New Lies

  The Colony

  Baldwin’s Legacy

  Confrontation

  Unification

  Culmination

  Hierarchy

  Lineage

  Legacy

  The Resistance Series

  Rift

  Revenge

  Return

  The Manuscript

  Lights Over Cloud Lake

  Red Creek

  Return to Red Creek

  Prologue

  Unknown Location: Day 1

  September 24th, 1989 (Date on Earth)

  He’d done it.

  The blue light sucked from the room, leaving Dirk Walker struggling to stay upright. His knees were wobbly, but worse, his eyesight was blurry, causing him to see double. The space was dark, only a tendril of light escaping through what Dirk presumed to be an exit.

  “Dirk, are you there?” Clayton’s voice was hurried, panicked.

  “I’m…” He threw up, the nausea taking hold. Dirk leaned over, wiping his mouth, and swallowed despite the acidic burn. “We used the Bridge.”

  “I feel like we rode a rollercoaster,” Clay said, offering Dirk his arm as he approached.

  “So do I.” Dirk was filled with the realization that they’d actually traveled through the Bridge, the device they’d spent almost two decades chasing after. “Where’s the welcoming party?”

  Clay remained silent and shuffled forward, half-dragging Dirk with him. “Maybe they’re outside. Let’s try this doorway. What if they didn’t see us arrive?”

  Dirk’s vision improved, and his legs gained a semblance of their former strength as they crossed the room. He shrugged off Clayton’s grip as they reached the door, and he searched for a handle, without success.

  The lighter. He pulled it from his pants pocket and struck the butane flame to life. It sputtered and danced in front of his face. The walls were dark, almost black, and dense. Their voices died the moment they reached the barrier. He rapped at it with his knuckles and found the surface solid, like a rock, but perhaps laced with a thick metal ore.

  “Hello! We’re inside here!” Clayton started to yell, slamming his palms against the door. It looked to be made from the same material, but someone had processed it, smoothing the roughness from the slab.

  “Calm yourself, Clay,” Dirk said, mostly for his own benefit. They’d traveled through space—a wormhole, perhaps, if Hardy’s theory was correct—and they hadn’t the faintest idea what they’d find on the other end.

  “What should we do?” Clay asked.

  “The same thing we always do when faced with a tough situation. We analyze the surroundings and determine a solution using realistic outcomes.” The lighter was held like a torch, and Dirk shuffled along the outer walls, searching for signs of hidden doors or anything useful. Clayton stayed where he was, his breaths coming fast and ragged.

  “We shouldn’t have left, Dirk. What the hell were we thinking? Vicky’s going to kill me. And Ronnie. My little girl. She needs her father!” Clayton was losing it. Dirk needed to get him under control.

  “Stop it. We can’t undo what’s done. There has to be a way out of here,” Dirk assured his friend.

  And he saw it. Two tiny pinpoints of light emerging from the door, casting a thin beam across the room.

  He jogged for the exit, kneeling so he could peer through the holes. They were too thin to see through. For a moment, he thought a shadow came over them, but no footsteps accompanied the movement.

  “Find me a paperclip.” Dirk waited while Clayton fumbled with their bags, as he lifted the light in the air.

  When he had it, he bent the thing open and measured, making sure it was the appropriate size. Dirk urged the metallic points of the paperclip into the dual holes, and something clicked.

  The walls began to descend, spreading apart from above and lowering into the floor, which rumbled at the movement. Dirk grabbed hold of the podium in the center of the room to steady his weak knees as he gawked around the newly opened space.

  “How did you know to…?” Clay started to ask, but Dirk was already past him.

  Were they truly on an alien world, or had the Bridge only carried them to another spot on Earth? The hallway felt familiar, similar to the temples of ancient Egypt, but the size of the stone blocks was different. Dirk touched the wall, finding the cuts too advanced for any of Earth’s ancient civilizations.

  “Come, Clayton. Take the bags.” Dirk went first, flicking the lighter closed. The hallway held an amber glow, but he couldn’t judge the source. The corridor was wide, twice his height, and everything was well maintained. His footprints created faded imprints in the dust, suggesting no one had trod in this hall for ages.

  “We should try to go home before they close the Bridge. Luis is probably already beginning the cleanup,” Clayton said.

  “We told him to wait two hours. We have plenty of time.” As they rounded a smooth bend in the hall, Dirk observed the source of the brightness. A gentle breez
e entered through an open staircase. It headed down, and he advanced onto the first step, finding it slightly higher than he was accustomed to.

  “Have you ever seen something quite like this?” Clayton asked.

  “Never.” Dirk wanted to be excited, but he was perturbed. He’d fully expected somebody to be here when they arrived, but no one met them. Maybe they still would. The Bridge location might be as remote as the one outside Porto, Portugal. He clung to this hope as he descended the steps progressively. The air was breathable, maybe marginally thinner than his lungs were used to. That might be related to their elevation.

  The steps ended, and Clayton almost barreled into him at the bottom. He dropped one of the packs, and Dirk shouldered it, taking some of the burden. He led them through a short passageway, and the space opened into a massive domed circular room. The glass was clear, and tall pillars of the same black stone rose, creating make-shift corners. Each was carved with intricate lettering, the symbols and shapes unfamiliar to Dirk’s eyes. He wasn’t a linguist, but he’d seen enough carvings and hieroglyphs over his extended career to determine these were not of Earth.

  Clayton walked past him, reaching for the nearest pillar. He stared up the length, muttering to himself. “These are beautiful.”

  “Still want to go home?” Dirk asked.

  Clayton lowered his gaze, fixing his glasses on his nose. “Dirk, I don’t think anyone’s here. Maybe we should leave before it’s too late.”

  “Not yet.” Dirk walked to the middle of the room, staring up at the sky beyond the great dome. It was blue, with an orange glow to his right. Clouds drifted by at a steady pace, and Dirk stopped in his tracks as they parted ways, showing him the faint outline of two obscure moons.

  “Look,” he whispered as he pointed in the other direction. Clayton was beside him. His old friend was his closest ally, and seeing the expression on his face tore Dirk to pieces. Clayton wasn’t impressed by their discovery. He was petrified.

  Clayton walked to another series of steps across the chamber. “We really did it.”

  Dirk followed, almost tripping on the stairs. They were twenty feet wide, and he judged there were forty steps leading to a higher dais above. And now, he saw the room for what it was. There were seats all along the outer edges, lengthy concentric stone benches. This was a gathering amphitheater. If he had to judge, it would hold five thousand people comfortably. Humans, anyway.

  Clayton slowed as he climbed the steps, and Dirk caught up to him, both of them breathing heavily.

  “Almost there,” Dirk grunted, and they finally reached their goal. The platform led to the edge of the dome, and the view was all Dirk could focus on. The scenery of a distant body of water called to him, and he trudged forward, the energy suddenly sapped from his muscles.

  The glass reflected blue-tinted sunlight, and from this angle, Dirk spotted the star in the sky. It felt so wrong seeing the blue gas giant, like a betrayal to his senses. He stared upwards, the dome giving his retinas a minor reprieve from the brightness, and Clayton pawed at him, tugging on his shirt sleeve.

  “Dirk, there…” His partner’s voice was a light rasp.

  Dirk finally peered at the water, then at a city along the shore. His heart pounded, and his knees gave way. The city beyond was destroyed. Some of the structures remained, standing like monoliths in the air, while most were completely obliterated. A road led from the city, a few kilometers in the distance, to the giant crater separating the dome from the damaged metropolis.

  Dirk pressed his forehead to the dome, closing his eyes. “They’re gone, Clay. We came seeking their salvation, and they’ve already left.”

  Clay slunk to the stone platform beside him, turning from the view. “We have to return home!”

  Dirk tried to check the time but remembered he’d given the watch to his son, Rex, before leaving home. “Rex, I’m coming,” he muttered. With a new sense of urgency, Dirk climbed to his feet and risked one final glance at the city. A true alien world. He reached into his pack and pulled out his camera, snapping a few shots, but nothing would do the real thing justice. If anything, he could show them to Hunter and Hardy. Reveal the truth of the Bridge.

  Clayton was halfway down the steps when Dirk started to take them, and his friend tumbled, tripping on his own exhausted legs. He crashed hard, rolling over the final section.

  “Clay!” Dirk rushed for him, careful not to duplicate his fall. He lay unmoving, until his leg twitched. “Are you okay?”

  Clay rolled onto his back, and Dirk picked up his twisted glasses, folding them and placing them into his own pocket. “We need to leave.”

  Suddenly, all Dirk wanted to do was get the hell out of here. To be in the comfort of his house, putting everything he’d ever learned about the Believers, the Bridge, and Brian Hardy behind him. He’d tell his wife he loved her, and cuddle his children while watching a movie with a bowl of popcorn. Like a real family.

  “Can you walk?” Dirk helped haul Clay to his feet, and the man grunted his response.

  “I think so.”

  The trek was slow moving, with both bags hindering Dirk’s progress as he took the brunt of his friend’s weight too. But eventually, they wound their way to the Bridge room, and he took better stock of the space. The podium matched the one in Portugal, and Dirk touched a black metal cube sitting in its center. The ceiling rumbled as a round hatch slid open, displaying a clear sky above.

  Clayton had to use the podium to brace himself, and he looked like he was on the brink of passing out. His pants were bloody, and Dirk suspected something was sprained, if not broken.

  They could find him the help he needed at home. “You ready?”

  “Ready,” Clay managed, and Dirk reached out, placing both palms on the box. Clay did the same, and they peered up, waiting for the swirling blue maw to sweep them to Earth.

  Only it didn’t come.

  He continued attempting to activate the Bridge, well after Clay slumped to the floor. It was always the same result. Silence.

  Eventually, Dirk sat, arms and legs trembling. He tried to solve the puzzle, applying the facts as he understood them.

  They’d used the Bridge to travel from Earth to this planet.

  The beings Hardy had presumed would be here to greet them had disappeared.

  The Case wasn’t working, implying that Luis had dismantled it.

  They’d given Luis instructions to distribute the Tokens where no one could ever find them.

  There was no hope.

  Exhaustion finally found him, and though he didn’t remember closing his eyes, Dirk began to dream, recalling that he’d given Luis a contrasting instruction on one of the Tokens. It was to be sent to his daughter as a gift. She was too young to understand, but Hunter Madison or Hardy would be smart enough to talk to his family. To figure out what might have occurred.

  Dirk, half asleep, resolved to stay as long as it took for someone from Earth to figure out the puzzle and bring them home. Because there were no other options.

  Part I

  The Truth

  1

  January 4th, 2026

  Three days after my father and Clayton returned to Earth, the Believers still hadn’t tracked our location. Under the current circumstances, I was counting that as a win. We’d sunk into a steady rhythm and flow at our late benefactor’s private vineyard, with each of us dealing with our new reality in unique ways.

  “Any luck?” I asked Marcus. He was propped up at the kitchen island, working on his laptop.

  “What do you think?” We were alone in the house for the first time, with the others set out on various tasks.

  “You would have told me if you had any hits,” I mumbled, taking the seat next to him. “I’m sorry about this.”

  “Exactly what are you apologizing for?” Marcus asked. His usual quippy self had been buried under a harder shell these past few days. Occasionally, I caught a glimpse of my eager young friend, but for the most part, he was trying to do h
is research in peace and quiet.

  I didn’t answer and glanced at the drawing my father had sketched out. The symbol was straightforward: a circle with lines pointing from it in all directions. It looked like a child’s rudimentary illustration of the sun.

  “Do you believe everything he’s told us?” Marcus asked me.

  I fiddled with the paper, rotating it as I contemplated the loaded question. “No.”

  “Good. I thought I was going to have to fight you on this.” Marcus sighed, and I saw the weight on his shoulders.

  “You don’t have to worry about me. We started this, and we’re the central team, okay?”

  “Sure, Rex. Things have gotten a little more complicated than that.” He glanced at the patio doors, as if expecting someone to be listening in. “This is just… bizarre.”

  “You’re telling me. I went in search of the solution to an old puzzle and ended up finding my father. And Veronica has her dad back too. Man, I feel like such a fool for not seeing it was her.” The moment I’d learned she was Ronnie Belvedere, it had seemed so obvious. But that was the thing about surprises. You rarely saw them coming.

  “Don’t sweat it. I’m actually more astonished Hunter didn’t realize it was her.” Marcus took a sip of his coffee.

  “What did you say?”

  “That Hunter…”

  “That’s it. He did know it was her. Hell, he probably hired her. Told her to be there. What better motivation than recruiting the second kid of the missing duo? I’ve been had.” I kicked a toe against the island, stubbing it.

  “Relax. Probably not, and even if they were in on it together, she did help us.” Marcus was only trying to be supportive.

  I peered around the main living room. “We are alone here, right?”

  “Sure. As far as I can tell.”

  “Veronica said the weirdest thing to me that first night.” I leaned closer, and he listened intently.

  “What?”

  “She wasn’t sure Clayton was really her father. She said it so quietly,” I told him.

  “Okay, that could mean she thought the man wasn’t her biological dad, or…”