Free Lost in the Echo by Jeremy Bishop, Robert Swartwood Page A

She’d actually overheard a conversation in the grocery store. It was one of Winslow’s theories. But she wasn’t about to tell Radar that now. She sniffed back her tears. “Asshole.”
    His eyes shifted up to meet hers. The serious look in his eyes stole away what remained of her smile. “Do you really want to know what I think?”
    Biting her lip, she nodded.
    “I’ve been thinking…” He cleared his throat. “What if everybody else is gone? That it’s not just us—Refuge—moving from world to world. What if the worlds are moving to us ?”
    “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
    He shrugged, tried on a goofy smile. “You asked what I thought. Though now that I’ve said it out loud, I think you’re theory is better.” He touched her cheek, wiping an errant tear away with his thumb. “Now come on, let’s check out this thing.”
    They were in Mr. Herman’s private observatory, which proudly sat in the backyard. It wasn’t a very large structure—maybe the size of a giant shed—with a domed roof and an opening for the telescope. With Mrs. Herman’s permission, they had ventured out here to inspect it alone. Like many of the kids in town, they’d seen it on a field trip—it was the closest thing you could get to a science museum this far north—but they never really got to look at it up close.
    The telescope itself was huge, much larger than the one Lisa’s parents had gotten her years ago for her birthday. Like a lot of kids, she had been fascinated with the moon and the stars and the distant planets. She supposed she was still fascinated to some extent—did that fascination with other worlds ever really go away?—but she couldn’t remember the last time she had looked through her telescope.
    This one, however, was top-notch—no doubt about that. Mr. Herman had once worked for NASA, so it made sense he would have the best equipment for stargazing. Only it was daytime now, and there were no stars. Still, that didn’t stop them from opening the hatch—a button on the wall disengaged it, the motor quietly humming. Radar paused before turning on the telescope, but they had Mrs. Herman’s blessing. Lisa gave him a nod, and Radar grinned, turned it on and motioned her to the viewfinder. She leaned in and placed her eye against the soft rubber.
    “I don’t see anything,” she said, stepping back and giving Radar a try.
    He leaned down and squinted through the viewfinder. He stood that way for a long moment, hunched over, before he said, “I think I see the Death Star!”
    She swatted at him, a playful swat, and he laughed as he caught her hand and pulled her to him. They were close again, their noses only inches apart. She tried to keep all thoughts of her parents from her mind, tried to lose herself in the moment and just forget about what was happening in town and to the people. How Sheriff Rule was dead and so was Mrs. Beaumont, and that her parents were somewhere or maybe they were nowhere, dead and gone in a void-like space, and maybe—
    Lisa heard it then, the buzz, distant but gaining in volume, a sound like a lawnmower engine drifting on the wind. “Do you hear that?”
    Radar opened his eyes. He’d been leaning in for a kiss. After what they had shared less than 24 hours ago—what now felt like days—Lisa understood the urge to continue with their desires. Teenage hormones, however, would need to be put aside for the time being.
    She saw a flash of disappointment in Radar’s eyes, but then he cocked his head and nodded. He heard it too.
    “What is that?” he asked.
    The buzzing grew in volume and pitch. Now it sounded less like a lawnmower and more like an insect. A lot of insects.
    Radar crossed the floor of the observatory, heading for the door.
    “Where are you going?” Lisa asked, her fear growing.
    He placed his hand on the doorknob. “I want to see what it is.”
    Her first thought was of that monster flying in the sky, the one they had seen outside of