5. Chapter 5

6 AMBER

I hated having to move Dawn's body underneath her bed. The discovery of it would be inevitable, but the longer I could prevent it from happening, the further away I would be.

"I'll find your killer and end him," I promised my dead sister when I moved the bed over her body, which I had rolled up in her comforter and put a pillow underneath her head—a useless gesture—but I was having a hard enough time doing what needed to be done as it was.

"I only need to buy a few hours to get to Hope One. Once I'm there, they won't be able to get me back easily," I muttered, letting the bed down gently, making sure it didn't touch her lifeless figure.

Next, I had to clean up all the blood. It wasn't my first time doing this, but I caught myself crying. It turned out that it was a lot harder to clean your sister's blood than that of a stranger .

Dawn, in her meticulous way, had already packed a backpack, holding mostly science equipment instead of any personal belongings, which was also very typical for her. She had packed one uniform, and I found another—the one she had probably planned on wearing—neatly hung up in her closet. Being identical twins came in handy when it came to our wardrobes, and I had no problems fitting into hers.

Sensible, ugly boots fit slightly snugly around my feet. One of our few distinguishing differences was that she wore a seven-and-a-half shoe size, whereas mine was an eight. Most of the time, I thought she had only done this out of vanity, squeezing her feet into a smaller shoe just to be able to say we had physical differences, but somehow, I doubted she would have gone so far as to wear a half size too small on this trip.

My feet would undoubtedly blister, but I had put up with worse, albeit it had been years since. In the meantime, I had grown accustomed to a much more comfortable way of life.

Well, you're going to avenge your sister's death. Better slip back into the old Amber , I cheered myself on.

I checked the time. It was going on six in the morning. I supposed we would be leaving soon, maybe have breakfast somewhere and have some speeches. Since the killer had taken Dawn's phone and laptop, I had no way of checking her itinerary and would have to play it by ear. I would listen for noise in the hallway and follow the crowd.

For now, I sat down on the only chair in the room to put my elbows up, cradle my face, and take a deep breath. I had been running on adrenaline for a few hours. A few minutes of rest would help me get perspective on what I was about to do. And the loss of my sister, but I didn't want to think about that right now.

Something made a funny sound when I sat down and poked my ass. I stood back up and checked my pockets. Inside, I found a folded piece of paper. My heart did a little flip-flop as I unfolded it, sitting back down.

The front was an itinerary from the day Dawn got here a week ago. A list of meetings, greetings, mealtimes, and so on. The corner on top was ripped indicating this had been a page of a larger packet. The backside was filled with Dawn's handwriting.

Her own list.

Call Dr. Helms

Pack bag

Order more glass slides

Eat a pizza

Get book, Plants and Beyond

Call Amber

Activate file

Tell Pierre to go to hell

Meet with R.J .

Tears prickled in my eyes. At least she got the pizza. Good for you sis .

I had no idea who Dr. Helms or R.J. were. One she had called the other she must have either not crossed out or not done. I pulled out my phone to go through the list of names of those going on the expedition in a few hours, but I didn't find anybody with those initials. Damn Dawn ! I didn't even know if this was in vain because, for all I knew, R.J. could have had some freaking seeds she needed.

Finding Dr. Helms was easy, though. He was a gynecologist, as a quick Google search revealed.

Activate file? She hadn't done that either or hadn't crossed it off. It had to be some kind of e-mail to someone. With a sudden surge of hope, I checked mine, but no, I didn't have anything from her. That would have been too good to be true.

Tell Pierre to go to hell . A lover's spat? At least Pierre would be on Vandruk, too. I would be able to feel him out for information, which shouldn't be too hard if Dawn and him had been in a relationship. He was just her type.

I drummed my fingers on the table, trying to read more into her list. I tried searching for R.J. point, but the millions of results that came up were impossible to look through.

My phone beeped—a message.

You can't hide forever bitch.

Very subtle, Tony . I considered replying, but then I realized that I wouldn't be able to take my phone with me. It would be better to get rid of it than have it discovered here. Not that it mattered. Even the stupidest moron would figure out who I was after Dawn's body was found. They might even try to pin her death on me.

I dropped my phone into the toilet and waited for a few minutes before I fished it back out. Dead. Good. I grabbed a half-empty coffee cup from Dawn's trashcan and put the phone inside. That'll do it.

Noise from outside the hallway told me that it was time to get going. I grabbed the bag, took a deep breath, and threw one more glance at the bed, whispering, "I'll find him, Dawn, I promise."

People were streaming out of their rooms; excited women clucked among themselves as they moved down the hallway in skimpy outfits that would have been acceptable on the beach or walking down a boardwalk, not going on an expedition on an unexplored alien planet. They weren't my concern, so I ignored them. I couldn't help but notice one dark-haired woman who wore a uniform like mine among the group. Among them wasn't the right wording. Her expression showed the same disdain I held for these women, and she walked a few paces away from them as if trying really hard not to be placed with the others.

"D… Dawn?" I would have recognized Pierre anywhere from his pictures. About thirty, clean-shaven and with a nerdy science face, dressed in an IC uniform.

"You seem surprised to see me," I baited, keeping my voice even as Dawn's. He wore the exact expression I had expected to see on someone who ran into a person he believed dead. Dark circles under red, swollen eyes indicated he had done some crying. Every fiber in my body twitched to put my hands around his neck and squeeze him for information.

"I… I just thought… I thought you left," Pierre stated in a thick French accent.

Usually, I would have greeted a French man in his native language, but since I was supposed to be Dawn and she had never bothered to learn another language—besides Latin—I kept my reply in English. Plus, I was a bit floored by his news. Or was that just an excuse for him being flustered at seeing me? "I changed my mind?"

"Splendid, exciting," he laughed nervously. I wished suddenly Dawn and I had been closer, like her and her friend Marybelle—who the fuck didn't find some kind of nickname for themselves with a name like that? Had we had that kind of relationship, I would have known more about Dawn's coworkers and what kind of situation she had been in. She and Marybelle had shared everything. Come to think of it, she might be a lead. But she would be here, and I would be on Vandruk.

We passed a trashcan, and I nonchalantly dropped the paper cup with my phone into it while scrutinizing Pierre from head to toe. Was that little spot on his lapel dried blood?

But I dismissed my suspicions of him being Dawn's killer. After a closer inspection, he was shorter than Dawn and me. I didn't think he could have pulled off murdering her. But that didn't mean he hadn't been involved.

We reached the bank of elevators, and a throng of giggling women followed us in .

"I'm sorry, Dawn." Pierre stepped into my personal space, and it took quite a good portion of my willpower not to shove him back. He wasn't a bad-looking man, but he was way too scrawny for my taste. I liked full-bodied men. Men with muscles, men who could lift and carry me, not the other way around.

Not knowing if they had had a relationship, a fight, or what it had been about, I chose a noncommittal response. "Me too."

The elevator stopped, and the group surged forward with chirping excitement.

"I'm so happy you changed your mind." Pierre kept the conversation up, oblivious to the fact that my eyes and attention roamed the hall we had entered and the people already waiting for us.

Two more sciencey-looking men stood a few feet apart from the others. Scanning their nametags, gave me their names: Scott Hayes, Mineralogist, and Dr. Bob West. Science Expedition Leader was proudly proclaimed underneath his name.

"Morning," I mumbled while scrutinizing the assembled group of security guards. Did that man just flinch when he saw me? Did that one pale?

They were surrounding a tall, good—but hard-looking man who was giving a speech of sorts, unmistakably their leader. He had to be in his forties, with a trim body filled with muscles in all the right places. He didn't exactly do a double take when his eyes moved over me, but his jaw hardened, and he did stumble over his words slightly .

The minute the military guy stopped talking, Pierre made a beeline for him. He pointed his finger at me and talked so fast that I didn't think he even took a breath.

The other man didn't seem pleased at all, averting looking at me, even when Pierre kept pointing. His fists balled and unballed. The sinew by his thick neck swelled, and his eyes narrowed. "Shut the fuck up ." I couldn't hear him from where I stood, but the words were pretty easy to read from his body language and mouth.

"Ah, Doctor Wayland, I was hoping to catch a word with you."

I nearly screamed at the man approaching me, but Scott's revering voice saying, "Professor Weidenhof," stopped me.

So this was the famous inventor of the wormhole.

"I was wondering if we could have a word in private?" Weidenhof stared at me. Four security guards stood behind him, their hands on their weapons.

"I think I would rather stay here," I replied coolly, preparing myself for an attack.

Just then, a loudspeaker squealed, "Ladies and gentlemen, breakfast is served; please join us."

"Oh, goodie. I'm hungry," I beamed. "Aren't you hungry too, Scott? Bob?" I grabbed their arms and moved away from Weidenhof, who bade his guards to stay down with a stony expression.

Since he seemed reluctant to make a scene, I made sure to stay with as many people as possible at all times. Catching Weidenhof's glare here and there, he eventually had to hold a speech and walk on stage .

The four security guards kept shadowing me but didn't approach. In the back of the room, I made out a few reporters, their cameras trained on Weidenhof giving his speech. I figured that as long as those cameras were on, nobody would bodily pull me away unless I separated myself from the herd.

Fat chance of that happening. I grimaced and suffered through two long hours of more speeches before we entered the large laboratory observation room that housed the portal to Vandruk, followed by a throng of reporters, to whom I kept myself close.

A woman stepped from the throng of reporters, her eyes were expectant when she raised a hand. "Doctor Wayland?"

"Say you'll forgive me," Pierre whispered, pulling me aside before I could talk to the woman.

Another voice rang out just then, sparing me an answer, "Alright, if anybody wants to change their minds about this expedition, now is the time. There is no going back from Vandruk, not for a year. So if you have any doubts, any, speak up now," Weidenhof announced, glaring at me.

Carl waited a few heartbeats before his arms swiped to the portal. "Good luck, ladies and gentlemen, and may God be with you."

The security leader I had noticed before stepped to Weidenhof and the two shared a quick conversation while I pressed myself forward. The sooner I stepped onto Vandruk, the sooner I would be away from their clutches and be able to figure this mess out. I pressed myself forward to be one of the first to make it through the portal. From the corner of my eyes I noticed auburn hair, as the same woman who had approached me before tried to move from the group of reporters who were held back behind yellow tape and a group of security guards. An inner voice told me this might be important, but one look at Weidenhof and his goonies convinced me that it wasn't a good idea right then.

I steeled myself, even holding my breath. Dawn might have worked here, but she hadn't told me anything about the portal. My body stiffened in expectation of being ripped into pieces and reassembled on the other side, but stepping through the gate wasn't like in the movies at all. Nothing pulled on me; I didn't get vacuumed through a black abyss, nor did any space whoosh by. It was simply like stepping through a door, like going from the bedroom to the bathroom, except everything on the other side was strange, alien.

Especially the group of alien men, who were in the middle of a heated discussion that stopped at our arrival. I had no idea what they had argued about, but the raised voices had made it clear it wasn't a friendly conversation, and I decided right then and there that my first order of business would be to learn their language. I might not have been here for the Vandruks, but when in Rome and all that…

Speaking of, wow, just wow. I was fairly certain that Dawn hadn't signed up for this mission because of the natives' looks, but hey! They were exactly the type of man I liked to go for. They were HOT!

I had never cared about other people's skin color, but for some reason, the deep reddish-brown-ochre on these men was startling and stunning. It harmonized with their deep red hair color, which could be mistaken for black or dark brown. One of them stood out the most and screamed leader in capital letters. His skin was curiously mottled with scars or scales. I noticed his eyes search over the women and didn't come to rest until he saw the one I had noticed keeping herself away from the group earlier, wearing a uniform like me.

He didn't exactly smile when he saw her, but his posture relaxed ever so slightly. That guy had the hots for her. Too bad. But I wasn't here on a pleasure trip. If he had set his sights on the black-haired chick, all the better for me. My ever-calculating mind told me that if the leader had the hots for her, it might be in my best interest to make friends with her. I wasn't the girl-friend type of person, but how hard could it be to make a friend?

I have never been a nature person, either; that was Dawn's thing. However, once I was able to tear my eyes from the men, the sight of the alien landscape took my breath away.

The sky was overhung with clouds. Where they weren't predominant, the sky held tones of a dark lavender blue interlinked with reds. Very high in the sky, a bright light illuminated the heavens. Their sun, I presumed, was so bright it was nearly white and much further away from this planet than ours from Earth. Illuminated against the sun were two planets—or so I assumed; I guess they could have been moons, too. I wasn't an astronomer or whatever declared the differences between the two. One planet appeared a lot bigger than the other, but both seemed incredibly close to Vandruk .

It was hard to describe the ground. It could have been lava dotted with neon green pebbles or the other way around. Rocks were everywhere, some small, some as large as boulders. I also noticed that the ground didn't seem to be even anywhere. It was as if meteor after meteor had bombarded the planet's surface before plants decided to grow. And what plants they were. Some reminded me of oversized succulents, at least at the tip. Most of the taller plants were twisted, like Twizzlers or a corkscrew, as if they were constantly looking for something while craning their neck and turning in circles.

I wasn't easily impressed, but setting foot on an alien planet like this did things to me I would have never imagined. A sudden pain through my heart and the stinging of tears surprised me. This was what Dawn had been working for all her life. She should be the one standing here, not me.

How unfair was it that she, the one who lived all her life like a responsible adult who had never even gotten a parking ticket, was the one dead? Killed in a most gruesome way, whereas I, the daredevil, stood here now. I was the one who joined the Navy and worked my way up to being an Intelligence Officer. The one who volunteered for the most dangerous missions, daring death so many times I couldn't even count the number of times I nearly perished.

Life was funny and cruel that way, I supposed.