Free The Fellowship for Alien Detection by Kevin Emerson Page B

Haley felt as if she was coated in a thin film of grime that even the prickly, jet-powered nozzles of another Relaxation Depot (this one in Charleston, West Virginia; Dad was part of the Frequent Relaxer program) shower couldn’t completely remove. Her forehead had made a greasy oval on the glass. She’d been in this position for a while, just gazing out the window. She felt like her body was humming at maximum, adrenaline coursing, nerves fried.
    There were a number of contending reasons as to why she felt this way. It may have just been from the combination of plastic-packaged hotel breakfast burrito and bumpy highway. But it probably also had to do with all the looking over her shoulder that Haley had been doing at every stop since Amber. She never saw anyone who seemed to be following them or watching her, but she had no experience in these kinds of things and so she didn’t know what to look for.
    Plus, Steph had said that if you saw these agents, it was already too late.
    Also in play was her lack of sleep: She’d sat up late into the night rereading the dream accounts on We Are the Missing and also researching the UCA corporation. What she had found out wasn’t exactly your typical bedtime story. And when sleep had finally come, it had been uneven and plagued with dreams where Haley was trapped in tunnel labyrinths with glowing doors and small hard-hatted figures appearing and chasing her.
    Then there were the aches and pains she had from the day before, which had been added to by Liam who, after insisting on an early morning swim with Dad, had gotten himself so overdosed on sugary cereal and hot chocolate at the hotel that, not an hour into the drive, he’d proceeded to have an insane meltdown when the battery on his Nintendo died because he’d forgotten to charge it overnight, which resulted in him accidentally kicking Haley in the leg. Now his sweaty head was slumped on Haley’s elbow, a thin string of drool falling from his open mouth.
    But the most likely reason for Haley’s queasy feeling was the email she’d found when she got online at their last rest area stop.
    Haley looked back at the computer. She’d already read it three times but started again anyway, hoping something might change this time:
    Dear Haley,
    Thank you for sending this update. I’ve had a chance to read it and to look at the pictures you uploaded. I also read your second email (from 1:30 a.m.! You night owl!) with the information about UCA’s mine holdings. I’ve checked that myself and you are right. UCA and its subsidiaries own mines in far too many of your missing time towns to be a coincidence.
    All this is fairly incredible, and, I have to say, a good bit more serious than I think my father anticipated when he launched this fellowship!
    What I am trying to say is that while my father and I thought that your field study theories were plausible and noteworthy, we did not necessarily expect them to lead to such concrete and, frankly, chilling results.
    Obviously, you are onto something here. That said, I think we can agree that this is all too dangerous. I think what you’ve found out is already enough for a great fellowship report, not to mention something we can take to the authorities, and so I must request that you return home at this time.
    I would imagine your parents are feeling the same way? Honestly, given what you’ve found, I’m surprised I haven’t heard this from them directly. Perhaps you all still feel that you have to continue on in order to secure your award annuity, but please know that’s not an issue! You’ve more than earned your scholarship!
    I’m sure this is disappointing, given how motivated you are, but I imagine it’s also a relief, after yesterday! Either way, it’s for your safety. Please let me know your plans for returning home. I have notified the bank to deactivate your debit card in forty-eight hours, but that should