Chapter 2

The sky had just started to lighten, and Red River Town was still shrouded in a thick, unyielding morning mist. I was already driving my old Ford pickup toward Texas Tech University.

Subconsciously, my grip tightened around the crystal pendant in my pocket.

Besides wiretapping, it now had a much more lethal purpose—it was the physical proof I needed to batter down the doors of the Pentagon.

Forty minutes later, the pickup parked outside the gray and white laboratory building of the university's Physics Department.

This place housed the state's top materials analysis lab. More importantly, the department head, Dr. Mark Wilson, was my company guide back when I served in Afghanistan. He held a secure, classified line that went straight to DARPA.

"Luke?"

Wilson was holding a cup of coffee. He froze slightly when he saw my getup, which smelled faintly of gunpowder and motor oil. "What the hell went wrong this early in the morning? You look like you just crawled out of a trench."

"Mark, no time for small talk."

I pulled the crystal pendant out, slapped it onto his desk, and stared him dead in the eye.

"Scan this thing with your best equipment, then use your encryption clearance to report it immediately. The security of Texas—if not the entire country—is at stake."

Wilson put down his coffee and picked up the pendant with suspicion.

Inside the deep blue crystal, it looked as if a slow-moving nebula had been sealed tight, emitting an unnerving glow under the fluorescent lights.

"This... what the hell is this material?"

His previously relaxed brows knitted together tightly. "This lattice configuration doesn't exist anywhere on the current periodic table."

"This thing came from hell."

Holding onto the edge of his desk, I leaned in. "A parallel world sterilized by nukes. The entrance is in my old basement. In seven days, armed thugs from the other side are going to use a naturally expanding portal to wipe Red River Town off the map."

Wilson sat stunned for a solid three seconds before mustering a dry, awkward smile:

"Luke, old buddy, if your PTSD is acting up, I can book you an appointment with a shrink..."

"Scan it first!"

I cut him off coldly. "If the data tells you in thirty minutes that this thing isn't from Earth, then you can consider whether or not I’ve lost my damn mind."

One hour later.

Dr. Wilson was staring fixedly at the data cascading down his monitor, his face as pale as a sheet of paper.

"Jesus Christ... this is impossible."

He tugged at his hair nervously, his voice trembling. "The energy density overrides the absolute limits of theoretical physics, the molecular chains completely violate the laws of thermodynamics, and... it's radiating some high-frequency, unknown wavelength into our three-dimensional space!"

"Believe me now?" I straightened up and adjusted my tactical jacket.

"Mark, get your ass to that red phone. Tell the Pentagon that in seven days, Red River Town is going to host an interdimensional massacre. Unless they want to plug the firepower gap with civilian corpses, they’d better send in the heavy mechanized divisions immediately."

Wilson took a deep breath. With no further bullshit, he grabbed the dark, encrypted phone from beneath his desk.

"Put me through to the DoD's Science and Technology Directorate... Yes, this is Wilson... Initiate highest readiness protocols. I have a 'special specimen' here that requires immediate evaluation..."

I stayed in Wilson's lab for the rest of the day.

Several Black Hawk helicopters bearing no military insignias landed consecutively.

Several waves of agents in black suits with eyes like hawks took over the analysis. When they saw the data on the screens, shock and doubt flashed briefly across their mask-like faces, ultimately morphing into undisguised fanaticism and greed.

At 8:00 PM, the Pentagon's response arrived.

"Intel confirmed." Wilson hung up the secure line, his expression stony.

"The QRF units from the 3rd Armored Division and the 101st Airborne have received classified orders. But... an interstate mobilization of large-scale heavy weaponry, combined with stealth deployment, will take at least seven days to complete the perimeter."

"Perfect timing." I snatched my truck keys. "In seven days, we lock the door and wipe them out."

"Wait, Luke." Wilson called out to me, lowering his voice. "Top brass wants to know. Can't we send in an advance Special Forces recon team first?"

"I sealed the door completely shut with concrete. No one is getting through right now."

I kept walking without looking back. "In seven days, the portal will blow the wall open on its own. You'll have plenty of time to check out that hellhole."

On the drive back to Red River Town, utilizing my Ranger night-vision instincts, I could already faintly spot military drones circling overhead on recon patrols.

The countdown had officially begun.

……

Meanwhile. The Wasteland. Victor's Base.

Elena was wearing a skin-tight black tactical leather suit that hugged her every curve. Striding in knee-high combat boots, she walked toward the depths of the underground bunker like a queen inspecting her domain.

Behind her trailed four armed elite bodyguards.

The corners of her mouth curled with arrogance. She was already rehearsing in her head exactly what pose she would strike when demanding a reward from Boss Victor.

"Madam, Lord Victor has spoken. The explosives this time are a matter of life and death for the base. They must be inventoried immediately," the captain of her guard respectfully urged.

"What's the rush? That stupid man has never dared disobey me."

Elena flicked her blonde hair dismissively. "For the past three years, he's just been a mutt I kept in a cage. You really should have seen how pathetic he was last night. I squeezed out a few tears, and he was ready to carve his heart out for me."

She walked gracefully to the end of the portal chamber, her fingertips expertly reaching out toward the hidden spatial rift.

"Once we get this batch of life-saving supplies, I'll have Victor nuke the coordinates. I'll never have to suck up to that poor dirt-farmer sheriff ever again."

Stimulated by her touch, the rift glowed with a faint light.

Elena looked up with a smile, expecting to greet a mountain of military rations, antibiotics, and black-market C4.

However, the smile on her face stiffened, then shattered instantly.

There was no warm light.

There were no crates of supplies.

And there was no Luke, with his usual obedient, submissive face.

Standing before her was a completely sealed, blast-proof concrete wall. The surface was rough, radiating a bone-chilling cold, and reeking of fresh limestone!

"This... how is this possible?!"

Elena screamed, the color draining instantly from her exquisite face out of pure terror.

The guard captain shoved her aside and shined his tactical flashlight along the edges.

A few seconds later, he pulled his head back, his face a sickly shade of gray:

"The tunnel has been completely sealed! High-grade quick-drying cement mixed with red bricks. Looks like it's at least half a meter thick. We could swing sledgehammers at it all day and not even chip a crack!"

Elena felt her brain explode with static. Her knees gave out, and she nearly collapsed.

This was absolutely impossible!

That pathetic lapdog Luke whom she had wrapped around her little finger—the man who would panic for hours if she so much as sneezed—how could he dare to do something that completely cut off their lifeline?!

"There's been an accident! Something must have happened on his end!"

She began howling shrilly like a madwoman. "Maybe that old house collapsed! Maybe someone kidnapped him! Yes, that has to be it..."

Her self-hypnotizing excuses were ruthlessly shredded by the sudden, blood-curdling shriek of the air-raid sirens going off outside.

"CODE RED!"

"The Mutant Horde has breached the five-kilometer outer perimeter! All combat personnel, man your bunkers immediately! Repeat, the Horde is here..."

Elena's pupils contracted violently. Despair poured down on her like a bucket of ice water.

Without those high-explosives, what were they going to use to plug the bloodthirsty maws of the mutant mammoths?

Without high-purity penicillin, the wounded retreating from the front lines would fester into piles of rotting meat amidst their own screams!

The 'savior' halo she had personally crafted shattered into a million pieces at the foot of that cold, unforgiving cement wall.

Ten minutes later, terrifying footsteps echoed from the end of the bunker hallway.

"You bitch!"

Victor's bloodthirsty, enraged roar thundered through the corridors, accompanied by the crashing sound of heavy firearms slamming against the walls. "Where are my life-saving supplies?! Where's my gunpowder?!"

Listening to the approaching countdown of her own demise...

Elena finally slumped to the floor and closed her eyes in utter despair.