The Hidden Space Read online

  Contents

  TITLE PAGE

  COPYRIGHT

  Join Nathan's Newsletter

  Dedication

  PROLOGUE

  PART ONE: NEW WORLD

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  INTERLUDE

  INTERLUDE

  INTERLUDE

  PART TWO: TIME SHIFT

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  INTERLUDE

  INTERLUDE

  INTERLUDE

  PART THREE: THE PAST

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  EPILOGUE

  THE SECRET BASE (THE GLASS BOOK THREE)

  Copyright © 2022 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

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

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  For Alexander…

  PROLOGUE

  Cedric

  Nine Years Ago

  “Were the police on the murderer’s trail, or had the breadcrumbs left behind by the Lagoon Killer led them in the wrong direction? Find out next time on To Hunt a Murderer.” Cedric pressed pause and sighed. The experience was becoming tiresome. Week after week, he recorded episodes about crimes in obscure small towns. It could have been lucrative if he actually brought anything new to the table, but he was just adding flourish to the often-bland narrative.

  “When are you going to stop doing this and rejoin the corporate life?” Jill, his girlfriend, lit a cigarette from across the room, leaning in the doorway. He knew she loved him, but her passive-aggressive comments were growing more direct.

  Cedric had no intention of returning to fourteen-hour days, working his ass off for a CEO that would leave after a year, cashing out his stock options. He wanted to carve a niche in the podcast industry, but no matter how hard he tried, To Hunt a Murderer wasn’t breaking the mold. His numbers were good compared with his competition, but the sponsors wouldn’t back him.

  Cedric spun in his chair, facing Jill, and offered a forced smile. “Maybe we should take a holiday.”

  Jill inhaled, blowing a puff of smoke out. “We can’t afford it, Ced. We’re in over our heads, what with the student loans and all this equipment.”

  His cell phone beeped simultaneously with his desktop, and he examined the sender. Unknown.

  Jill lingered before going up the stairs. “I’ll be in bed.”

  He waited until he heard the door close and opened the message, wondering if it was the same guy that had been harassing him all week. He nearly deleted and blocked again, but something prevented his finger from clicking the mouse button.

  “What the hell do you want?” he muttered, reading the missive.

  Black Iron, twenty minutes. – C

  Cedric said the address out loud and investigated its location. Fifteen minutes. In the middle of the day, the trek might be twice that, but now, after eleven PM, the roads would be deserted.

  Instead of responding, he closed the program, shut the computer down, and slid his phone into his pants pocket. Cedric climbed the stairs, the old wooden steps creaking as he arrived at the main floor. He went to the bedroom, seeing Jill with her headphones on, the sound of EDM leaking from them.

  He almost joined her. It would be so simple to ignore the messages, to brush his teeth and climb under the covers.

  Cedric staggered to the front door, swiping his keys from a small table, and left.

  A short time later, he pulled into the bar’s parking lot. The lights flickered, as if alerting the bouncer of an intruder. He saw the leather jackets and row of hogs near the doorway, and the group of burly men smoking and laughing.

  Cedric glanced at his untucked button-up and black dress pants and cringed. He hadn’t even thought about changing. “Here goes nothing.”

  No one bothered him as he entered, the bouncer stepping aside like he’d been expecting Cedric. A waitress walked by, nodding at him, and he found a booth in the back, distanced from other patrons. He had a good view of the entire bar; behind him, a solid wall.

  He sat for a few minutes, checking his watch, and wondering if the guy was a no-show. His nerves begged him to leave, but gravity held him in the seat.

  Finally, someone approached him, his features obscured by the dim lighting. A classic rock song echoed from old speakers, and Cedric tightened his fists as the man drew near, holding two beers by their necks in one hand.

  Cedric looked at the drinks and accepted one as the man sat. He wore a green jacket, the sleeve pinched at the elbow. It took Cedric a second to realize he was missing most of his left arm.

  “You a vet?” Cedric asked.

  “No more than you are,” he grumbled, laughing coarsely.

  Cedric studied his face, shrouded beneath a low-sitting baseball cap. This man had a scruffy beard, a jagged scar on his cheek, but there was no mistaking those eyes. “What are you?”

  “Not what, Cedric. Who.” He removed his hat and grinned.

  Cedric froze, his hand gripped so tightly on the bottle of beer, he thought it might shatter.

  “I know you’re full of questions, so let me make this easier. I’m you, but from another plane. We were invaded, and I need your help to stop it from happening.”

  “Invaded?” The word barely escaped his lips, and he smacked them, feeling the skin sticking together.

  “I’m going to tell you a story, Cedric. All I ask is that you listen patiently and drink a couple beers. If, by the end, you abandon me in this dive, I’ll respect your decision. Is that fair?” the other Cedric asked.

  He stared at the older version of himself and nodded, unable to react in any other fashion.

  “Good. In nine years, you have to visit Horace Bennet’s ranch. You know the one.” He paused, as if Cedric might comment, but he didn’t. “The whole thing changes then. The world dies, Cedric, but we can still prevent the invasion. You must bring her to the Other Place.”

  “The Other Place?” Cedric managed. He took a long drink of beer, letting it wet his dry mouth.

  “Yes. Amass your army, Cedric. I failed to do so, but together we’ll be unstoppable.” His doppelganger slammed a couple of photos on the table and slid them across. “Start with these.”

  Cedric grabbed them, seeing a man in a police uniform, a cheesy head shot for a young actor, and a kid, maybe eight years old. He felt like he was being dragged into one of his true crime podcasts, and suddenly wondered if this was a setup. He dropped the pictures, realizing his fingerprints were now all over their surfaces.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “Ditch that stupid murder podcast. You have to make connections with those who’ve experienced the anomaly.”

  Cedric didn’t understand, but assumed that by the end of the night, things would never be the same. “Tell me everything.”

  PART ONE

  NEW WORLD

  Will

  Present Day

  The pane of glass broke, reminding him of the barriers to the Other Place. Will shoved the broken shards with his gloved fist and unlocked the door from the inside.

  “After you,” he said, holding it wide for Peggy.

  “Such a gentleman.” Peggy went in, rifle raised. They paused to listen for sounds of the Visitors and, when they deemed it empty, lowered their weapons.

  “I think they’re all gone.” Will propped the entrance open with a cinderblock. The creatures from across the Glass were still slowly funneling through the portal on the beach near their camp, and luckily, they rarely encountered any issues with the stragglers. He sniffed the air, checking to see if they were about to stumble upon more of the dead. But it was clean, if not slightly stuffy.

  “It’s not them I’m worried about.” Peggy glanced at the street, and Will heard the diesel engine roar as a truck drove by.

  “Is that one of ours?” he asked, not catching sight of the vehicle.

  “It has to be. Right?” Peggy ignored it, turning her attention to the shelves. “We have a list. Let’s get everything.”

  The pharmacy was half stocked, like most of the stores. The moment the Glass arrived, people had sought extra supplies. When the population began dying, they’d gone from paying for the goods to ransacking. Fortunately, that occurred more in the big cities than upscale places like Monterey. They’d heard countless tales of terror from those delivered by Fran and the convoy.


  Will checked the handwritten list, searching for a place to begin. “Over here.” He went to the pharmacy desk, hopping the counter. Will methodically selected the items, shoving vials into his cloth bag. Peggy worked at the other essentials, taking anything that had a decent shelf life.

  It took ten minutes to fill their rolling dolly full of boxes, and Will pushed it past the exit. He unloaded it into the truck and finished without Peggy’s assistance. He returned to the store, finding Peggy at the magazine rack, a cigarette puffing in her lips.

  “I thought you quit,” he murmured. He didn’t like seeing her like this. Her eyes were darker than before, and she’d lost weight.

  She held a magazine; the smoke drifted into her face. She squinted as ashes littered the floor. “It’s all gone.” Peggy rotated it toward him, displaying a celebrity couple famous for being rich or something. “There will never be another one in print.”

  “Online is better anyways,” he retorted.

  “Then it’s a shame the power is out,” Peggy said. She dropped the publication, and it landed with a slap.

  “What’s the matter with you?” he asked. She’d been off for weeks. For no reason, he picked it up, returning the magazine to its spot on the shelf.

  She slowly walked outside, flicking the butt into the parking lot as she squinted at the dreary sky. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”

  Will stayed quiet. They’d decided to keep separate quarters. Well, she’d decided.

  “I’ve been having this dream…”

  “What’s it about?”

  Peggy went to the sidewalk, plopping down on the curb. Will grabbed a bag of chips and joined her, opening the snack. He offered her first dibs, but she ignored him.

  “I forgot.”

  “The dream?” he asked.

  “No. That I used to have them all the time. It was so bad, my dad brought me to Dr. Rob. He diagnosed me with night terrors, and prescribed imipramine.”

  “What’s that?”

  “An antidepressant,” she told him.

  “When did it start?”

  “About nine years ago.” She blinked and stared at him, her gaze feeling distant.

  “When did you stop taking them?” Will asked.

  “When we left Calder.”

  “Well, that explains it. You’re coming down from the medication. Did you not remember to bring them?”

  A crow cawed, and Peggy watched it sitting on a light post. “I didn’t want to be foggy.”

  “We can go inside and find some. This is a pharmacy.” He started to stand, but she gripped his wrist.

  “I think they might be important. I’m sure it sounds silly, but you’ve heard all these stories with the convoy. How they know things. Ransom calls them inclinations. Mine come in dreams. Like Chrissy.”

  Will considered it but struggled to believe the only remaining people were either gifted psychics or those affected by the Visitors. He glanced at the inky black scratches veining out on his arm and guessed there was more than dumb luck. “What are you seeing?”

  “It’s kind of hazy. You’re with me. The halls are dark, and we have flashlights. There’s a sign on the wall, but I can’t read it.”

  “And this is recurring?”

  She nodded, strands of hair sweeping over her face. She ignored them for a second before tucking them away. “Every night. I wake up in a cold sweat. It might be bad.”

  “Have you ever seen something ominous?”

  “No. But the dread I feel…”

  “They’re just dreams.”

  “I disagree.” Peggy rose, brushing her pants off. “They’re more.”

  Will sensed her withdrawing, and couldn’t lose her. Even though he hadn’t said it out loud, he loved Peggy. “Okay, I believe you. How about we bunk together tonight? I’ll watch you sleep. Let’s figure this out.”

  Peggy finally smiled, her guarded expression melting. “Seriously? Or are you just trying to get into bed with me?”

  Will laughed, hopping to his feet. “Can’t it be both?”

  “I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted, Will.”

  “We’ve been through a lot. I only want you to feel okay,” he admitted.

  “Thanks.”

  “Did you have those same dreams as a kid?” Will asked. “With me in it?”

  “I couldn’t see you. But mostly, I was somewhere else.”

  “The Other Place?” Will whispered.

  “Maybe. I couldn’t tell you for sure.”

  “Let’s discuss this with the group, if you’re willing. I think Ransom might have some insight.”

  “Fine, but don’t say a word to Cedric,” she warned. “I don’t trust him.”

  “Neither do I.”

  Something clattered from behind the building, and Peggy had her gun raised in an instant. Will fumbled with the holster around his shoulder, grabbing his gun. It was heavy in his hand as they rounded the corner, checking on the situation.

  There was nothing.

  “Probably a cat,” Peggy said.

  Will caught a glint of light from down the alley and noticed a spark of blue. “That’s no cat.” He ran, trying to intercept them.

  The figure was spooked, and dashed off, racing from the alley and across the street. Will kept pace, peering over his shoulder to see Peggy chasing after him. She pointed to the right, and he went that way, catching a glimpse of his target near the post office. It turned left, and Will circled around the building, trying to cut the evader off.

  “Stay where you are!” Will shouted, and saw the figure stop from a hundred feet ahead. It was wearing black, standing taller than Will would have thought possible. One of its eyes glowed, a deep azure light assessing him. Then it jumped right over a wooden fence. Will sprinted for it, trying to climb up, and when he peered above the boards, it was gone.

  Peggy came to his side, panting her breaths. “What the hell was that?”

  “I don’t know.” Will slowly spun in a three-sixty, searching for more of them. “Come on. Let’s get to camp.”

  _________

  Ransom

  Ransom’s feet were spread apart, the axe swinging, splitting the dry birch. He crouched, placing another log on the stump before cutting it. He took a breather, stacking the quartered pieces into neat rows on the side of the clubhouse. The air was humid, the threat of a storm lingering for the last hour. The first drop landed on his nose, and he closed his eyes, letting more rinse away his sweat. The smell was exhilarating.

  “Working hard, I see,” Britt said, coming around the bend.

  Ransom smiled and propped the ax against the wood pile. “What would you know about that?”

  Britt passed him a glass, and he sipped the iced tea, appreciating the gesture. “Don’t let my clean outfit deceive you. I’ve been at it since sunrise.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Ransom asked. He downed the rest of the drink and wished he had a second glass. The rain intensified, so they ducked under the awning. The area became coated in mist as the wind picked up.

  “Have you seen Cedric?” Britt glanced toward the residences, and Ransom shook his head.

  “Not for a few days. He’s out there somewhere. I wonder what he’s doing.”

  “I doubt we’ll ever know for certain. Drake’s on the fence about him. He thinks we should consider throwing Cedric in a cell until he comes clean with his elaborate plan.”

  “Might not be a bad idea. He’s got this crazy notion that Joel and I are traveling with him into the Other Place. Can you imagine?” Ransom’s shoes were soaked, and he waved Britt to follow him around the building. They entered the clubhouse, which had an operational restaurant. A handful of the settlers were inside, preparing for dinner service, and Ransom brought his cup into the kitchen.

  “Are you here to help?” Fran wore a white apron and looked far different without her delivery uniform on. Her red hair was freshly dyed, and Ransom smiled. Behind her, Mother Goose barked orders at someone, then winked at Ransom from a distance.

  “Not today, Fran. But I will take a pastry…” He reached for one, and she slapped his hand with a tea towel.

  “They’re still hot.”

  Ruthie explored the room, lighting candles as it grew darker with the storm. They had generators but used them sparingly. There were a lot of practical supplies in the area, which was great news. Teams were dispatched all day, every day, gathering anything of value. They had an entire warehouse district stocked a couple of miles down the road.