They squinted through the sand kicked up as the huge machine touched down like a giant dark insect. A soft red glow came on inside the cabin, and a figure waved them on.

Adira ran first, snatching up the pulser. In another thirty seconds they were moving at about a hundred and eighty miles per hour toward Cyprus.

Chapter 12

Derby, Sedgwick County, Kansas

“Sunfa bitch.” Harry Wilcox’s hands slipped down the slick plunger as he worked it again in the basement sink. After pushing and pulling it some more he lifted it away and in return received a gurgle and a blerk, and then a few measly bubbles popped and slid back into the metal drain.

Phew. He turned away to drag in a breath – whatever was goddamn stuck in there was now stinkin to high heaven.

“Is it clear ye-eeet?” The voice from upstairs carried notes of high impatience.

Harry leaned back. “Nearly, baby; I think I just about got it that time.” He ground his teeth and lifted the plunger again, bringing it down over the drain once more. Their basement was the storage cellar, workshop and laundry room, and, as he and Summer had three kids all under the age of three, diapers were piling up – fast.

He sighed. When they had little Melody-Blue, their oldest, they’d promised each other they’d do their bit for planet Earth and never use those disposable ones that clog up the landfill – but then came Little Miss Mountain-Dew followed by Daisy-Sunshine, and whaddaya know, those little suckers shit right around the fucking clock.

Harry pumped again and again – if he couldn’t unblock the drain, that meant no washing machine, which then meant washing by hand outside, and as Summer was still breastfeeding little Daisy-Sunshine, he’d for sure be the sap standing out there with fifty pounds of brown-streaked Modern Cloth Diapers.

He stopped to wipe his brow, and then frowned. “Ah, getouttahere.” A huge cockroach scuttled across the concrete floor. Harry stamped on it, but immediately another took its place, racing madly towards the center drain grate. He lunged and managed to catch its rear half with his boot tread.

“Yech.” Even with its abdomen flattened to a yellow and brown paste, the front half still tried to scuttle away.

He looked around for more moving targets. The basement room was a good size, about fifty feet square on a concrete slab with a drain in the center. It had a sink, dryer and washer, and storage for dry goods, plus his workbench, and a million other things that had come down there to be sealed away in boxes and forgotten.

Harry sucked in a huge breath, jammed the plunger over the sink’s drain and started his dance once more – up down up down, and then rip it free, hopefully dragging loose whatever was in there – gurgle, splurk, pop – nothing.

Just then, he felt a small vibration through the soles of his feet, and the drain in the center of the room also popped and gurgled. A splash of inky fluid spattered the floor around its chrome rim.