Coalescence (Camden Investigations Book 1) (26 page)

I
RIS
BRUSHED
back the curtain separating Bill, Ron, and Tawa from the
rest of the camper. She cringed not from the sight but the sound. Thwack!
Mitchell and Evan squeezed past her with scowls, no doubt finding what they had
expected. Ron’s head slamming backwards against paneling. It was indeed the
source of the noise. Bill craned forward, scooping a hand behind the afflicted
man’s head. But Ron’s quivering and squirming made it near impossible for the
Hopi elder to keep a firm grasp. Tawa danced in snipped circlets as if inviting
rain.

Fighting the
physical restraints of cramped quarters as much as his squirming target,
Mitchell grabbed ankles and dragged Ron away from the paneling. Evan skipped as
if jumping rope and bounded over Ron. Placing his wrists underneath Ron’s
armpits, Evan signaled a “one, two, three” count and hoisted. Iris murmured
“gently” as the men lowered him onto the bunk. Seconds later, Bill hovered over
Ron, resuming a chant.

By now,
everyone was circled as best possible around the cot.

Kassidy
stood with hand on hip. “Shouldn’t we consider stopping the chanting? I mean,
isn’t that what caused him to bash his head against the wall in the first
place?”

Rachel
pushed through the crowd with a damp cloth. Ron had ceased quivering enough to
allow Bill to lift his head off the pillow. Dabbing at the back of his head,
Rachel repeated the exercise and examined. “Not too bad,” she reported. “Just a
few blotches of red. I’ll get the hydrogen peroxide.”

After Rachel
squirmed back through the throng, Iris spoke. “I would request we back off and
allow Bill to continue his work.” To Bill she said, “I apologize for any and
all insulting remarks. It’s just that we’re all strained and tired. But we
do
appreciate all you are doing for Ron. Please continue . . .
whatever you were doing.” Her face flushed red.

Bill smiled
weakly. “I am attempting to ground our friend. Sometimes I feel Tawa does a
better job.” He cocked his head at the dog. “Isn’t that right, girl?” Tawa
yipped. “But in all seriousness, Ron needs to experience the vision without
interaction. It’s as if he’s on a spiritual quest. Imagine he is a hunter. He
stalks and fights the prey in his dream. And in that moment and place, the
hunter is safe until . . .” he pointed a finger upwards, “the
prey finds a means to enter his waking world. That is what I fear. We may not
be able to benefit from his vision without a price.” Bill lowered his head and
resumed a chant. The words were unintelligible to Iris. No doubt Hopi words. If
so, she pondered, how would Ron, even at a subconscious level, interpret their
meaning? She concluded that maybe Bill somehow was relaying images with the
words much like Galloway had done with her and Mitchell.

After a few
moments, Bill addressed the throng. “I believe his visions of the ship have
come. But they are intermittent.”

Dan
interrupted. “You mean like labor contractions? This reminds me of how I felt
when your mother delivered you, Iris.” He patted at his wrist as if his watch
were still there. “It’s much like labor I take it. The visions will come more
often. Stronger?”

Bill nodded.

Iris glared
at her father. She wasn’t so mad at his remarks but of his knowledge of how
visions operated. His many secrets probably could fill a volume or two of an
encyclopedia, that’s if they still produced encyclopedias in the digital age
anymore.

Evan nudged
Mitchell in the ribs. “Shouldn’t we prepare the dial?”

Mitchell
nodded. “If you’re asking if this is the time, then I believe
this
is
the time. Only you’re not going, Evan. I would like to invite Iris, Mr. Camden,
and Rusty to accompany me on this little away mission.” He raised a stop sign
hand. “No time for arguments. Let’s prepare.”

Evan shook
his head and stalked toward the other end of the camper to retrieve the
shrouded dial.

Iris wanted
to take charge, but she fell silent. There were so many things that could go
wrong. She scolded herself.
Sorry, make that so many things that need to go
right. Stay positive.
She perused her mental list. Beyond Ron’s psychic
map
questing
, the team would depend upon the artifact to indeed to be as
intelligent as Evan had conjectured. The OBOLs would need to be instructed to
create a massive time disturbance rather than create a perimeter of defense
against the light weapon. And finally, all who entered the time slip must
somehow keep their heads. Bill had individually ingrained an image of a clock,
much like the image of the object, in everyone’s subconscious via meditation.
But would that work on everyone, especially Kassidy whose snarky remarks only
served to embarrass her in front of Bill? Essentially, would everyone but
herself and possibly Bill undergo a major freak out? Iris was confident her
experience with Galloway had primed her for this time journey, but she couldn’t
be sure about Mitchell. Despite his recent telepathic experiences he was a
novice. And for her family, all bets were off. Sure DJ was mentally strong. But
would her dormant alien DNA remain dormant in the time slip? And what about her
Dad? On one hand, he worked a job experiencing “the weird.” On the other, he
had recently disconnected his brain from a device that shared a symbiotic
relationship with him for decades. Ah yes. All bets were
off . . . At times like these it was complicated to be a Camden
girl. But she had to admit, it made her feel the most alive she had felt in
years. Like Mitchell, for good or for bad, she was destined to be an
investigator. And as illogical as it seemed, despite all the worries she harbored
for friends and family, she enjoyed this kind of stress. She couldn’t determine
why other than it sent the tides of life coursing through her veins. Cutting
hair paid some bills. That’s what the mundane was good for. But the mundane
never made you feel as if you pulsed. And that’s what stars did, they pulsed.

Mitchell
knocked her out of her stupor. “Are you ready to roll?”

She mumbled.
“Don’t you mean soar?”

Mitchell
smiled. “I like that ’tude, girl. Let’s go get ’em.”

E
VAN
STOLE
Bill away from Ron during a lapse in convulsions.

“I know we
don’t want Ron to engage the enemy. But it’s important that we can pinpoint the
exact location of the ship. In other words, if it’s orbiting over Australia we
wouldn’t want to engage the object. It would be too early. The activity just
might send an energy signature alerting the Greys of our plans. As much as I
don’t want them to fire, I
do
want them to fire, just at the right time.
I’m sorry, Bill. Does this make any sense?”

Bill clasped
a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “Just slow down. Remember ‘time’ is everything. It’s
relevant. It can be manipulated according to your science. If so, let’s use
this to our advantage. Let’s let our enemies do the worrying. You got that, Mr.
Science.”

Tawa yipped.

Evan allowed
a sheepish grin to wash over him. From behind, Kassidy laid her hands on his
shoulders and began kneading.

“You heard
the man. Just relax. Take it slow,” Kassidy said to Evan.

To Bill she
said, “I’m sorry for my behavior before. I was rude and unprofessional. I just
want you to know I will do whatever it takes to pull all my friends safely
through this shit—oops—I meant
time
storm. What can I do?”
She brushed a bouncing wave of curls off her forehead. “Can you teach me to
chant or something?”

Bill took
her hand and placed it in Ron’s. “Just hold his hand. Share. And if you can,
envision the ship. Now, Kassidy, pretend you are a mere telescope. An object,
emotionless, non judgmental. You are only seeing, not reacting. You with me so
far?”

Kassidy
nodded and her curls flounced back down covering her forehead.

“We need to
help Ron see,” Bill continued. “Can you envision the ship yet?”

“I don’t
know. I think I can imagine it if that’s what you mean.”

“Very good,
Kassidy. Now we want to expand our focus. We don’t just want to see the ship
orbiting in space. We want to find its location.”

Bill caught
Evan smiling. “Yes, Mr. Science. Now we’re starting to cook with fire as they
say.”

I
RIS
FELT
her heart thud in rhythm with the chopper’s blades. It was
beyond exhilarating. Riding in a chopper was better than Disney rides. Never
mind the fact she was on her way to arming the entire planet against enemy
invasion.

In a way,
she understood how the carrot had tantalized her father. She could conceive of
how his pleasure center must have rocked like an AC/DC concert. Back in the
day, she mused. But in that day, his damn pleasure center had become more
important than she was, more vital than his marriage, more exhilarating than
fathering a daughter named after her mother.

She glanced
at him, alarmed. She forgot he had been sharing with her. Their psychic
connection was back online because Dan’s chip had been deactivated. He had
probably heard every one of her thoughts.

His eyes
glazed. They held a certain understanding, a certain need to be forgiven. She
might never arrive at the point in time when she could honestly release all her
rage for him. It was bottomless as if it were a well. A dark hole in the ground
that appeared to go on and on forever because you couldn’t see its end.

Now she was
fast arriving at a new point in time. One that was certain to come to some
ending or conclusion. She was afforded no luxury or leisure of time to resolve
her family’s problems. No time to speak to DJ about how it felt to learn your
half sister was half alien. Precious little time to tell Mitchell she intended
to spend the remainder of her life with him whether it was the next half hour
or the next fifty years. Whichever came first as her car manufacturer’s
guarantee had read.

The small
dots of rocks now became larger. They were arriving at the pueblo. The winds
began to rock at the copter. It swooshed the craft to and fro in a sideways
manner. It somehow felt like nature was reminding them they had another option.
They could simply let fate play out. Iris propped her left hand on the back of
the passenger seat in front of her. It was where her future sat. His name,
well, his real name was too comical to ponder, but her future sat there and his
name was Mitchell. Her heart still thudded, but softer. She was going with her
gut. She would stop human’s next evolutionary jump for the sake of love. She
couldn’t depend upon nature to take its course. Nature had already been skewed
in the favor of an enemy. She argued against her rising guilt that she wasn’t
just saving Mitchell but stopping an enemy hell bent on placing the human race
in their servitude. Yes. That would have to do. She patted the seat and
Mitchell turned with a smile. She really hoped love did conquer all.

K
ASSIDY
DID
her best to keep a grip on Ron’s hand. He was writhing on his
cot. Eyes lolled back in their sockets. Spittle leaked from the corners of his
mouth.

Good God.
It’s no wonder the poor man didn’t want to leave his house.

Despite his
resistance, she held on. She gripped his flailing arm with her free hand to
center it.
I’m here with you. Can you hear me? I’m trying to think about the
ship and coordinates and all that space trooper mumbo jumbo. I don’t know if
I’m capable. But I do understand a human heart. I know when one is hurting.
I’ve masked mine with fucking alcohol. You amaze me, Ron. Why you didn’t go
over the edge with booze or pills. You haven’t let them win. Not totally. Can
you hear me? You—we—still have a chance. Just hang on.

Kassidy let
her head droop. What was she attempting? She was no psychic. In truth, DJ
should be here holding the man’s hand. She spied a glance at Bill. His eyes
were closed, but she knew the man’s mind was whirring faster than any
computer’s. He had invited her to connect with Ron for a reason. At a point in
time like this, she normally would have reached for a bottle. Instead, she
gripped Ron’s hand tighter and continued mind speaking. It might be for naught
but what had drinking ever really accomplished? There was nothing to lose,
everything to gain.

T
HE
HELICOPTER
shifted and swayed, nearly buckling as it fought to land
on the pluming brown dust cloud below. To Iris, it appeared as if the craft was
attempting to land on thin air. The dust disguised the solid ground
effectively. It might appear to an observer that at that very moment reason was
being ignored. At that instant, there was no solid ground for the copter to
land on, yet the pilot believed the solid ground existed beneath the dust. Like
her mission, she was depending on theoretical science, or what some might label
“magic” to turn tables on the Greys. Would the time slip become more than just
theoretical or mystical? It had done a pretty good job at capturing a moment of
memory on film. But could it really protect the planet as simply as a stray dog
might escape a busy roadway? Could they all just simply step away from danger?