Day 50 (The DMT Series Book 2) (2 page)

And as for living with another person in a cramped sailboat for an extended time, there were hardly any better partner-compatibility tests out there. If you could survive sharing a sailboat with someone for a year – you could probably live together the rest of your life. You could at least be girlfriend and boyfriend for a while. And that was what they were, Nina and Adam, girlfriend and boyfriend, but most of all friends.

Adam took Nina’s hand and escorted her in to the restaurant behind Cameron.

2

Dr Drecker studied the report in front of him. It was the latest report from the Indonesian chapter. They were growing fast in Indonesia. About forty to fifty new members each day. Soon it would overtake the original Mexican chapter and become the largest they had.

Dr Drecker filed the report with the others, and emptied the cup of tea his assistant Alejandro had just brought him. Dr Drecker was proud of himself. He had learnt from past mistakes. He had sworn to never again hire a female assistant, never to tempt himself. It was what had been his downfall at New York State University. It had been the real reason his career had stalled after he had been appointed Research Director at the age of forty-two. The board had never told him face to face, but now he understood: He had a vice and he needed to control it. He worked for something important now, though. Something more important than satisfying his own depraved lusts. “Alejandro. I need some privacy. Don’t let anyone disturb me for the next sixty minutes,” he said with a calm voice. “Yes, Sir.” Alejandro nodded, before leaving for the door.

Dr Drecker waited until Alejandro had closed the door behind him. Then he rose from his desk and strolled over to the far wall of his office. For a moment he studied the painting on the wall. Every time he looked at it he seemed to notice something new. A detail he had previously missed, a shade of colour that gave off a different reflection. It was as if the painting changed its appearance from day to day, as if it told a different story depending on your mood. Today Dr Drecker noticed the fine lines in Cody’s palm, how the tip of his index finger was slightly bent as it pointed down to the earth beneath him. Dr Drecker pushed a button underneath the frame of the painting, and it slid to the side revealing a concealed safe. He quickly keyed in the code and pulled open the door. The safe was empty bar a black leather bound notebook. Dr Drecker picked it up before returning to his desk. He left the safe door open.

Gently he placed the book on the desk in front of him. The Holy Book, that’s what they called it. It was in fact a pretty basic notebook he had picked up from a newsagent in Mexico City. The leather cover had made it a bit pricier than the cardboard versions, but it had still set him back less than ten bucks. Dr Drecker laughed. It had been almost two years since he sat down and authored ‘
The Plan’
. It had originally been a five-year plan, a ten-year plan and a twenty-year plan. Not in his wildest dreams had he envisioned that he would have reached the goals of the ten-year plan after only two years. But that was what they had done, Cody and he. With the latest report from Indonesia they now had more than twenty thousand members across the world. During the last few weeks the growth just seemed to have exploded. Had they reached some sort of critical mass where word of mouth took over and the message spread like a virus? He had witnessed the same thing happen numerous times in his own profession. He laughed when he thought about it. At one stage, one of his worst performing researchers at the New York State University had been interviewed about some popular science theory on one of the larger mainstream TV channels. The researcher had no idea why he had been contacted or how the reporter had managed to get hold of his phone number. The subject he was asked to comment on was not even within his field of expertise. But out of politeness the researcher had commented on the popular theory, and for good measure he had even thrown in a joke. He made a good figure, and suddenly he had been catapulted from obscurity to fame. Other reporters made a note of his name and started calling him for commentary every time they needed a science expert. That underperforming researcher was now a multimillionaire, and a board member of numerous biotech start-ups.

It was impossible to know how these things worked.

Sometimes they just did.

But who cared? The snowball effect seemed to have finally hit Cody and Drecker. He opened the notebook and studied the first page. This could potentially be huge - much larger than he could ever have dared dreaming of.

3

“Mister. Wanna buy some mushroom, mister?” A young Latino street vendor poked Adam in the shoulder as he passed a store selling swimsuits and inflatable bath toys.

Adam glanced at him, before shaking his head twice. “No thanks.”

The street vendor moved on to Cameron. Presumably an easier target: A lot of young Americans had their first flirt with drugs during Spring Break in Mexico. Mostly through Mescalin, or magic mushroom. “Mushroom, Missus?”

Adam swirled around, and before the young Latino had time to understand what was happing Adam had placed the palm of his hand on his chest. “I said no thanks. We’re fine.”

The surprised Latino stumbled two steps backwards, before raising his hands to show that he had meant no harm with the offer. “Ok, Mister. No need to get physical. Just giving you a chance to try it. It will be impossible in a month’s time.”

“Yea, sure. Mexico will sell out of mushroom next week. Haven’t heard that sales pitch before,” Adam laughed before continuing down the street.

“Not sell out,” the Mexican hollered to Adam’s back. “Stop producing. Too dangerous. Selling out our last stock now.”

They had barely walked a few hundred meters down the street before Adam became uncomfortable. There was something about what the young Latino had said that didn’t make any sense.
Why would they stop selling mushrooms in a month? Why would it become too dangerous to sell?
Adam swore silently, he knew he wouldn’t be able to relax until he got to the bottom of it. The question would be on his mind all night unless he found out what the Latino had meant. And Adam didn’t want anything on his mind tonight, nothing but Cameron. It was her birthday; her eighteenth birthday, and they had just enjoyed a wonderful meal at a nice restaurant.

Now they were going to go dancing, dancing and drinking.

Nothing could interfere with her evening.

“Anyone care for dessert?” Adam asked, pointing to an ice cream parlour across the street. Both Nina and Cameron nodded frantically.

“Why don’t you two head over and get yourself some ice creams. I’m gonna take a pass. Overate on that donkey.”

“Told you. You shouldn’t have gone for the one kilo Angus. Not after having eaten only fish for two months straight,” the girls giggled.

“I got it for free, didn’t I?” Adam smiled. He had managed to finish it in less than the prescribed time limit, and had proudly exited the restaurant with a small diploma evidencing he was an official Master in steak-eating. “I’m just going to see if I can get hold of some tooth picks. I’ll be back shortly,” he said as Nina and Cameron started crossing the road to the ice cream parlour.

With firm steps Adam traversed back to the swimsuit vendor where he had been offered the magic mushroom earlier. He looked around for the young Latino, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Adam then quickly circled the block. There was no sign of the kid though, and Adam was about to give up and return to the girls when he heard a squeaky voice from the alley. “Change your mind, eh?”

Adam turned around slowly, before nodding to the young Latino. Then he pulled out his money clip.

“Not here. Come with me,” the Latino said.

Adam put away the money clip as he followed the Latino into the back alley.

“So what are you after, mister? A good experience or some heavier stuff?”

“I’m just after some information,” Adam replied.

The face of the young Latino suddenly turned suspicious. “You a cop?”

Adam shook his head. “No.”

“Then what?”

“You said you would stop selling mushrooms in a month’s time. That it was getting too dangerous. What did you mean by that?”

The young Latino fidgeted nervously with his ear. He was heavily tattooed, and Adam guessed he most likely carried a couple of concealed weapons. Maybe a gun stuffed in his baggy shorts and a knife strapped to his ankle? Adam was double his size though. And more importantly; he wasn’t scared. Not at all. Adam knew he had the advantage. The young Latino would only try something stupid as a last resort.

“It was just a silly sales pitch,” the young Latino said.

“Relax. Listen, I’m going to reach for my money clip again, and I’m going to give you twenty dollars. All you need to do is explain why it will be too dangerous to sell mushroom in a month’s time. I saw it on your face when you said it. You weren’t lying. So there’s a reason. And I’m not leaving until you tell me what it is.”

The eyes of the young Latino flickered. He was obviously nervous.
But nervous about what?

“You can’t tell anyone you heard this from me. We weren’t supposed to tell anyone,” he said.

“I promise,” Adam replied. Like a promise meant something in a dark back alley in Mexico.

“My boss has heard that the Americans are planning to tighten the laws for psychedelics next month. Twenty to life in prison for possession and sale. Doesn’t matter how much you get caught with. If that’s true, Mexico will soon follow. So we are shifting our resources to other drugs. Psychedelics simply won’t be worth the risk anymore.”

“Life for possession?”

“That’s what my boss has heard. Sounds fucking insane, eh? But that’s what he’s heard. Has connections in the DEA and the CIA. So do you wanna buy some? You won’t be able to get shit in a few weeks.”

Adam considered what the young Latino had just told him. He didn’t believe him. But it was a fact that the US government had started to crack down quite heavily on psychedelics since Cameron and Cody were freed from MKULTRA’s grip two years ago. At the same time as the US had eased the sentencing for heroin- and cocaine-related offences, they had gradually increased the mandatory minimum sentencing for getting caught with psychedelics. Nowadays you were much better off getting caught with a few grams of crack or methamphetamine than the same amount of LSD or Mescalin. But life in prison? Surely they wouldn’t go that far.

Adam knew what he had to do though. Even if there was only a remote chance that the young Latino was correct, Adam had to warn Dr Drecker and Cody.

He had to warn them about what was coming.

4

“Don’t listen to me, Cody. Listen to what the figures tell you,” Dr Drecker said.

“I don’t want to. I don’t care how many followers we have. It’s all a sham anyway.”

“All a sham? For these people you are a God, Cody. A God.”

“And we both know that’s not true. I’m not a God, I’m just a fucked up science project.”

“You are the next step in evolution, Cody. You are the future of humanity.”

“You think I’m the future of humanity? I’m blind, dad. Fucking blind. I have the power to heal everybody but myself. If I catch the flu, I could die.”

“That’s what makes you so special, Cody. The other patients, the death row prisoners, they weren’t worthy of the gift of DMT. What’s the point of living forever if it’s not you anymore?”

“So I should be happy? I should be happy I’m mortal? I’m always sick, dad. I’m over it.”

“I know, Cody. And that’s why I want you to understand what these figures mean. Soon we won’t need him anymore. Soon we will be powerful enough on our own.”

“And you think he will just let us walk out of here? I’m his insurance policy, dad. He’ll never let me go. Never.”

“You’re so much more than an insurance policy. Sit down, Cody. I’ll show you.”

5

The trip had taken them a week and a half. They had anchored up the sailboat in Belize Harbour, rented a small jeep for the trek into the jungle, and then they had just gone. There had been no discussion, no arguments, they had all agreed. If the young Latino was correct, then Cody and Dr Drecker weren’t safe anymore. After Adam, Nina and Cameron had sailed off with their forty-two-foot sailboat, Dr Drecker and Cody had chosen a different route. They had ventured deep into the Mexican inlands. It was a dangerous place; drug lords ruled most areas with iron fists. Thousands of people had been killed in the intense rivalry between competing drug cartels over the years. And not only cartel members. Innocent bystanders were frequently killed as well. Massacred. You just had to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, even looking at the wrong person could get you killed. This wasn’t the old Wild West – it was much worse. Human lives were worth next to nothing in Mexico. And everyone carried a gun.

The drug cartels mostly killed for business. Sometimes they killed for mere entertainment though; for the thrill of it, to pass time.

For the Mexican drug lords nothing was sacred.

Nothing but Cody.

Dr Drecker and Cody had never been prepared for being on the run, not like Adam and Cameron. They were amateur-fugitives. A paltry twenty-seven days after splitting from Adam, Nina and Cameron they had been captured by a local drug lord whilst driving through a small village in the southern part of the country. They had been thrown into a tiny dungeon while the local drug lord’s minions had started to make enquiries into how much ransom the Americans would be good for. The enquiries had come up short though. A couple of simple searches had revealed that the hostages were worthless - they were both officially dead.

You can’t very well demand ransom for dead people, one of the minions had explained to the drug lord’s right-hand man, Alejandro Vasques, as he asked for permission to dispose of the two Americans. The men were bored, and needed some shooting practise. Preferably moving targets, he had said.