Chapter Five

Oh, God. Where am I?

Jeff squeezed his eyes closed against a headache that wouldn't quit as slowly he rose from unconsciousness to a world that seemed vaguely familiar, but resembled none he had ever known. He rolled to the side, and the bed crackled beneath him. Frowning, he opened his eyes and laid his hand palm-flat on the mattress. He pressed down once. It crackled again.

What is this?

He looked up and saw a large room. He recognized a faded letter C on the wall and knew exactly where he was.

Storage Room C.

But instead of being filled with crates of metal and parts for repairs on the various mechanical items throughout Tracy Island, the room was filled with makeshift beds, clothing, canned food and various other nondescript shapes. The only light came from a candle nearby, casting long shadows everywhere he looked.

What the hell?

"Mr. Tracy!"

Jeff shot to his feet, eyes wide. Who was that? Whose voice was it?

"Mr. Tracy! Hurry!"

A woman with reddish blonde hair ran into the room and began throwing things into a backpack. "Thank God you're awake. We have to go!" When he didn't move, she added, "Now!"

Jeff stood in shock as everything came flooding back to him.

You died. Fifteen years ago. Right here on this very island.

Where are my sons?

Dead. They're all dead.

It's all gone. International Rescue, your family, everything. The world's gone to hell.

"No," Jeff whispered, sinking back onto the bed beneath him. "No."

"What are you doing?" Dana cried. "Get up, get up!" She stuck her arms through the backpack straps and heaved it onto her back, then reached down and pulled at his hands. A flashlight strapped to her arm danced over the gray walls.

"They can't be gone. They just can't be."

"Mr. Tracy, do you remember me?"

British. She had a British accent. He looked up.

"I'm Dana. We found you out on the beach earlier this morning. Do you remember?"

He nodded.

"Listen to me. We're in great danger. We must leave now. There's only one chance for escape."

"Escape from what?"

"Not what, Mr. Tracy. Who. Now come on! I don't have time to argue!" With that, she hauled him to his feet. "Here, take these."

He palmed the flashlight she offered and allowed her to strap a second backpack to him. "Where am I?" he asked as she finished.

"You know where you are. I'll answer all your questions later."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"Do you want to live?"

Do I want to live?

He nodded.

"Then come with me," she said, holding out her hand.

He shone his light to the side of her face. Her hazel eyes were full of fear, but he sensed no mal intent. Nodding his head once, he grabbed her hand. She was off like a shot, running as fast as her legs could carry her. He easily kept up as they headed for the monorail tunnel on the other side of the room.

"Where are we going?" he huffed.

"The sub! It's our only way out of here!"

They ran for what seemed like miles. And it really was. Jeff knew these tunnels like the back of his hand. Sweat poured from his forehead as they neared the end of the last tunnel.

"There's no way out over here."

"Oh...we...made sure...there was," she panted, moving to the wall. Dropping to one knee, Dana banged her fist on the floor and to Jeff's surprise, a corner of the concrete popped up. He helped her lift it away, and watched as she dropped into a small tunnel dug in the sandy dirt below. "Quickly!" she called up to him.

What's happening? What's going on? Why are we running? Who are we running from?

The ground became wet as he slid down the tunnel on his back, feet-first. The backpack hindered his progress, but the tunnel's gentle slope aided his movement.

"Where are your friends?"

"They're dead," came her flat reply.

Who killed them?

The small tunnel evened out, and within minutes Jeff's feet reached the edge of it. He felt Dana's hands on his legs as she guided him down the four-foot drop. The brilliant sunlight blinded him, but she grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

When at last he was able to see, he recognized they were on the opposite side of the island from the house. Well, from where the house had once been. But there was nothing like a sub anywhere in sight.

The sound of a helijet's engines came to their ears.

"Quickly, we must get underwater."

"Underwater?" Jeff repeated, trying to locate the aircraft.

"Yes. We had to leave it down there. It's too bright to be left on the surface. Anyone could see it."

"Too bright? What color is it?"

Dana stopped at the water's edge and turned to face him. "Yellow."

Yellow. Yellow. Could it be?

She nodded as if in answer to his thoughts. "It's Thunderbird 4. It was the only one not destroyed." She waded into the water, and he followed. Soon she was up to her belly, then her chest, then her neck. "Stay close," she said, before taking a deep breath and going under.

Jeff did the same and followed her beneath the waves. Further and further they swam. His lungs began to ache. He watched her head for the surface and joined her. "How...much further?"

"Only another ten feet."

He nodded, took a deep breath, and dove.

When he laid eyes on the small submarine, he thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. The one thing that still looked the same as it had before this...whatever this was...had happened. They swam to the airlock and she motioned for him to open it. He did, and they entered. Within seconds the airlock emptied and oxygen pumped into the small space.

"I don't understand what's going on."

"First we must get out of here. I never piloted this thing. James," her voice cracked, but she quickly recovered, "James was the only one who was ever able to figure it out."

"I can pilot her."

Dana nodded. "I figured you could. Let's get at it then, shall we? We need to put as much distance between us and this island as we can."

They entered the cockpit. Jeff took the pilot's chair and strapped himself in. Makeshift jump seats had been added to the back and sides of the cabin, and Dana strapped herself into one of them.

Jeff placed his hands on the control panel.

Gordon should be here.

Dead. They're all dead.

Eyes burning, Jeff throttled the sub into action and it rose from the bottom of the ocean. He switched her into forward and they were soon on their way.

"Run your scans again!"

The pilot nodded, but moments later gave the same reply as the previous three times. "I'm sorry, Mr. Gaat. I don't see any life signs."

Chien looked sidelong at his boss. "We must have killed them all with that one missile."

"Land," Belah ordered, grinding his teeth. "I wish to see for myself."

"Yes, Sir."

Belah looked out over the churning waters of the Pacific. Deep down, he was troubled. First hearing Jefferson Tracy's voice, and now finding inhabitants on Tracy Island? Something was afoot. Whatever it was, he didn't like it.

"How's it going, Brains?"

"Uh, well, Scott. I-It's going well. Uh, Tin-Tin, hand me that solder iron there, would you? Ah, thank you. We've got the, uh, casing together, but the rest of this is going to be, uh, slow going, Scott."

Scott nodded and headed over to where Virgil and John were deep in discussion. "Any progress?"

"Not much so far, Scott," John replied. "We think we've got most of the wiring figured out. Theoretically."

"Then what's the holdup?"

"This," Virgil said, holding out his hand. Scott took a charred lump of melted metal from it and looked quizzically at his brothers. "It was the only .5 meta-inducer we had left."

"It got burned when the phase converter blew."

"You can't build your gadget without this?"

They shook their heads as Virgil replied, "There is one on Moyla."

"Fine. John, get over there and get the damn thing, and hurry it up."

"F.A.B."

Scott turned on heel to leave the lab. Virgil caught up with him in the hall.

"You okay?"

"Fine."

"Yeah, right."

"Not now, Virgil."

Virgil opened his mouth to say something, but was stopped by Gordon running up to them. "I found something else!" he crowed, waving several sheets of paper in front of them.

"What is it?" Scott asked, grabbing them.

"CSO Barnes again." The three walked rapidly through the hall as Gordon explained. "The first one is an article about Barnes reappearing."

"Reappearing? How?"

"Two months ago. He reappeared in the exact same laboratory where he'd last been seen."

"Where is he?" Scott nearly bellowed as they entered the elevator. "We have to talk to him!"

"Won't be that easy, Scott. He's in a mental institution."

"What?"

"Who's Barnes?" Virgil asked.

Scott ignored him. "What do you mean, Gordon?"

"He just sort of...materialized in the middle of the lab. Apparently the two scientists in there at the time had their backs to him. When they turned, he was sitting on the floor absently picking at his shoelaces."

"He's insane?"

"'Fraid so. That's what the other two articles are about."

"I don't care. Call whoever you have to call. I want to see this man. Now."

"F.A.B.," Gordon replied, rushing out of the elevator before the doors had opened all the way.

"Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?" Virgil asked as Scott stalked into the Lounge.

He whirled on his brother. "There's a scientist in England who disappeared a year ago while working on a phase converter."

Virgil waited as he sat down at the desk. It soon became apparent that Scott wasn't going to volunteer anything else as he began rummaging around in the drawers.

"And?"

"And he's back. And I'm going to see him."

"I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not. You need to help John make that astral scanner of his."

Virgil shook his head and came to stand in front of him. "He can build it on his own. You need someone to look after you."

Scott rose to his full height, which was only an inch above his younger brother. "I'm leaving as soon as Gordon gets a line on Barnes. Alone."

Virgil's jaw worked, but his face remained unreadable. "Fine, Scott. Go alone. But don't forget: you're not the only one whose father is missing."

He could only stare at Virgil's back as he left the room. Deflated, Scott sank into his father's chair.

No, I'm not. But I'm the one everybody's expecting to find him.