Terminal Point arrives next week! The big season finale raises the stakes for the team. Not everyone makes it out of this one and nothing will be the same again. Check out the sneak peek from the novel below.
Terminal Point Sneak Peek
“This is it.”
The car cruised to a halt along the corner of Woodbine and Plymouth. Passenger-side tires hugged the curb. The hum of the engine ran in the background against the sound of birds fluttering overhead. The late-morning sun washed over the skyline, but downtown spires blotted out the impressive light, casting deep shadows on the streets below.
The shadows covered Zac Modine’s face. The wide-brimmed cap he’d borrowed from the man behind the wheel helped to obscure him from the traffic cams that lined every block of Bismarck.
“You sure this is the place?” Buck asked. He was well into his fifties, with bushy eyebrows that hid his muted green eyes.
Zac had met the man at a diner in the wee hours of the morning. His travels from the Trust compound had been frantic and scattered. For every mile in the right direction, Zac had taken three to cover his tracks from any potential pursuer. From bus routes to taxi cabs, over the course of the last two days, he had done everything possible to make it to Bismarck safely. Since learning about the destination, the city had called to him—another voice added to the mix in his mind.
Buck had immediately noticed Zac in the diner. With no money, and a pair of clothes begging to be changed, Zac had been easy to spot and easier to ignore. Zac’s appearance hadn’t bothered Buck. He brought the weary traveler a plate of food he’d ordered for the road and joined him for a meal and a story. Zac had declined to share most of his tale, but when he mentioned Bismarck as his ultimate destination, Buck had been gracious enough to take him the rest of the way.
A change of clothes later—the man’s generosity knew no bounds—and they had started their trek. Buck had filled the trip, and the silence from his companion, with his own stories. They had been tales of loss and great sacrifice, but through each one, Buck carried a joy in his voice that never diminished.
Zac was grateful to the man—both for his deeds and his words. They lightened the load burdening his mind. They eased the journey that troubled him for so long. Peace returned to his thoughts and his dreams… until they arrived at their destination.
“Zac? I said, you sure this is the place?”
“This is it, yes,” Zac said.
Buck turned to the window, his furrowed brow stuck in place. “Looks abandoned. In fact, I’ve been coming down this way for years, and it’s always looked that way to me. Like whoever owned it just forgot about it one day. And then so did everyone else.”
“Buck?” Zac stared at him curiously. “Are you sure we’re looking at the same place?”
“On the corner, right?” Buck asked. “Place is practically falling apart. Why the city hasn’t done anything to clean it up, considering everything else in the area, makes no sense to me.”
Zac didn’t understand what Buck meant. Where Buck saw a rotting derelict, Zac beheld a wonder. The building sparkled in the sunlight. The spire shot up into the sky like a rocket. Their perceptions failed to line up. Unfortunately for Zac, that was becoming the norm, and he kept the truth to himself.
He patted Buck on the shoulder. “I can’t thank you enough for everything.”
“I’m happy to do more,” Buck said. “You don’t have to stand alone. Whatever it is you’ve got going on, there are people willing to help. I—”
“I know.” Zac stopped the man with a sad smile. His silence afforded him nothing but more concern from the man. This trip, however, was for Zac to complete. “Trust me, Buck. I know I’m not alone in this.”
“Call me,” Buck said. “You need anything, you call.”
“Thank you.” Zac took the man’s hand, gave a firm shake, and then stepped out of the car. Zac offered a goodbye wave. Buck, for a second, appeared ready to join his departed passenger. He held tight to the door handle. His eyes locked on the building across the street. The second they did, his fingers started to tremble until he let go of the door and settled against his seat. Then the Good Samaritan shifted the car to drive and coasted into the morning traffic. A gentle nod of farewell left Zac to the task ahead.
Zac crossed the street at the light. He slipped between pedestrians, who rushed to their destinations. The crowd headed to places of employment, or off to an early lunch, while shoppers moved slightly slower to head to their next excursion.
None stopped at the building on the corner of the busy intersection. Not a single one even looked toward it in passing. Something about the place sent them heading in the opposite direction, as if commanded to ignore the gleaming structure.
Only Zac appeared to witness the truth: he finally arrived at his journey’s end. He had spent too long getting here, too many agonizing weeks on a trek that had seen him chased, beaten, and abused by too many outside parties. All had been interested in the Wellspring, and the secret behind its protocol: the signal.
Inside were the answers to that mysterious item. According to the voice locked in his mind, the signal stood at the center of everything—every innovation and advancement of the last century and beyond. The signal gave birth to the future, one Zac needed to stop from happening.
It was the only way to save his life, and the only way he could ever reunite with his family again. Nothing would stop him from fulfilling that goal. Zac’s fists balled up at his sides, and he started for the front door.
“No turning back now.”
