Night of the Alphas

Chapter 4

Three months passed at my uncle's house. I'm not sure if you've ever been to Lebanon, Illinois, but there isn't much to do during the summer. Well, at least not this summer. The town was pretty empty because most of the people there had left to fight in the war. Unless you wanted to go to an almost-empty swimming pool and spend the afternoon at Walmart, you're out of luck.

Soon enough, a new school year was starting. We would have moved back to North Carolina, but the Alpha Freedom Movement was still controlling it. In fact, they were stronger than ever. From the news reports, it looked like the anti-AFM militia was losing. It looked like we were gonna be in this for the long haul.

Since I couldn't go back to normal school just yet, Mom signed me up for private tutoring lessons. It wasn't the same, but it worked, I guess. Meanwhile, my mom had to work from home most of the time, since she had to leave her job in Charlotte. Amanda got a short-term job in Lebanon, but it's kind of boring and I don't want to have to explain it.

I didn't like living in Lebanon that much. It was just so much different from my hometown, where I knew where everything was, and I had a social life. And trust me, having to hang out with the same people every day was wearing me out.

"Adrian, sweetheart, will you go out and get the mail for me?" Aunt Rebecca asked one day. She often referred to me as "honey" or "dear" or "sweetie" when she wanted me to do something for her. It kind of made me feel weird, because the only people who called me those names were people who were severely annoyed with me, like teachers or instructors.

"Sure." I slipped on my shoes and went outside. When I got out to the mailbox, there was nothing unusual about it. Except for the fact that there was a random, seedy-looking man standing nearby. He was a tall, hairy, half-bear guy with a pair of dark sunglasses and a Michigan State baseball cap. When he saw me, he lifted his hat up and began walking towards me calmly. My heart pounded. All of my instincts told me to run back to the house, because this guy looked like he was no good. I backed up slowly, clutching the mail in my arms. "I-I know karate!" I lied. "Step back! I'll, um, flippity-kick you if you come any closer!" I had no idea what I was saying, but it sounded professional, so I went with it.

"Listen, kid," he said, stopping four feet in front of me. "I'm not here to hurt you. I was just wondering if..." He pulled a wrinkled envelope out of his pocket. "If Adrian Taylor lives here."

I blinked. "Who are you?"

"Names aren't important. Are you Adrian Taylor?"

"If names aren't important, why do you need to know mine?"

His face flushed and he gritted his teeth. "Fine. If you must know, I'm here on account of my client who you may know."

"Who's the client?" I let my guard down a bit, but I was still shaking.

He squinted at the envelope. "It's a little smudged. Hang on." He held it closer to his face. "Zena Chapman? Zelda Caperton? Zoey Calypso?"

"Zaria Chapelle?!"

"Yeah. Something like that."

I lunged forward and snatched the paper out of his hands. Sure enough, it was addressed to me, and it was from Zaria.

"How did you-"

He put his finger to my lips and handed me a business card:

Knox Rosenbloom

Mail smuggling services

(980)-392-6571

I looked up at him "You smuggle-"

"Yes. Now shut up." He started walking away from me quickly. When he was about 30 feet away from me, he turned around. "Call that number if you need anything."