Flutter (22 page)

Abigail asked, “Have you ever tried it on?”

Roger answered, “Hell no. Didn’t you hear what happened to the other men who wore the suit? We’ve made some adjustments but I’m not willing to risk it. The suit now has a processor located in the collar. I created software that reads heart rates, analyzes body temperature and movements so that the suit understands that the human wearing the suit is boss and will know not to overexert itself. It will know when to shut itself down if necessary. It now reacts after the human body says react and not before, which had been a major problem. I also added in a tracking device and can remotely monitor the suit’s activities from home or... my iPhone.” He shrugged. “I designed the app three weeks ago. Don’t worry. It’s not on iTunes.”

Roger shifted lanes.

“Ok so no one has ever tried it on. How do you know it works?”

Roger confidently responded, “Trust me. It works. We’ll find out soon enough.”

“And the guns and weapons?”

“Abigail,” Roger said, “There are people around us willing to kill for this armor. Willing to do whatever it takes to get it and or the plans. If they come, we need to be ready.”

Abigail looked out the window. “How far are we?” Abigail wondered. She looked at the Garmin GPS.

Roger asked, “What does it say?”

“40 minutes to Hampden.” She put the GPS back in the center console and pulled the bag in tighter and unzipped the bag. She wanted to try it on but hadn’t got up the nerve to do it. She looked in the collar and could see sensors sewn into the fabric.

“There are sensors all over the suit, but the brains of the suit are right there.”

Abigail didn’t want Roger to know how impressed she was. She squinted her eyes, nodded and zipped up the bag. Then, she tossed it into the back seat like it didn’t matter anymore.

A couple of minutes later, Abigail leaned her head on the window. It lightly bumped against the glass as they drove down the freeway. She was tired and was starting to doze off. She closed her eyes. Little by little she drifted into another haunting dream.

She was running through a jungle in a black tank top and khaki shorts. She heard drums as the black leaves on the trees screamed in her direction. It sounded like children on fire. She thought she saw a face in the dark mist surrounding the path underneath her feet. Once again she was being chased by men in black suits. A black oily substance crawled from her feet, up her legs, across her back, over her neck and onto her head. When it reached her head, it burned into her scalp. She stopped and grabbed her head in agony. The screaming increased in volume, piercing her ears. 

Suddenly, four beasts jumped onto her pinning her down and licking her flesh. Each one bit into her wrists and ankles, holding them in their mouths, stretching her body above the ground. Black blood oozed from her mouth and the bite wounds. She could not focus her eyes enough to make out what the beasts were, but she could see their fangs. One had wings. She could hear their thoughts but could not make sense of them amongst the screams in the jungle and her own screams. They were speaking a language she didn’t understand. Soon the men in suits caught up to her. They stood on either side of her and ripped her shirt off. 

Her breasts were exposed. She was paralyzed. One of the men pulled out a gun and pointed it at her. The beasts pulled harder, pulling in four different directions, as if their desire was to rip her body into pieces. The man with the gun had blue glowing eyes. He said something, but his voice was muffled. He fired twice.

Abigail’s body jerked in the seat. Roger noticed but continued driving. He tried to watch her and the road at the same time and realized it was a dangerous attempt. He looked for the closest exit. Abigail’s body jerked again. 

 Abigail’s weak body dropped to the ground. The beasts and the men were gone. She slowly got to her feet and ran. They were all once again chasing behind her. Once again she jumped off a cliff to get away. She fell into a bed of red fog. It turned into a hospital bed where she was suddenly strapped down, lying on her stomach. She had electrodes attached to her body. The room was dark and steamy. She heard a muffled voice. The words sounded like a chant. Incense floated in the air. She could see candles, mirrors and low lights. She heard knocking. A man whose face was painted white tapped wooden needles into her back, creating the tattoos using an ancient method. Her mouth was bound. She stretched her body to scream, and suddenly she was awakened by Roger. 

He gently shook her and called her name, “Elvis. Wake up sweetie. Wake up.” They were at a rest stop.

Abigail jumped up opening her eyes. Roger ran his hands through her hair. She was shivering.

Roger asked, “Are you okay?”

She nodded and pulled him over to her. He held her tightly and kissed her lightly on the forehead. She looked up at him. He kissed her head again and then her cheek. She smiled but turned her head down and took a deep breath. She held him tighter. The soft rain beat against the metal truck.

It was early evening. Brown decided that waiting on Meghan was not going to help, so he left the office and headed home. When he arrived home, he immediately took a shower, threw on a t–shirt and sweats and walked barefoot into the kitchen. He grabbed a bagel, coffee and some grapes from the refrigerator. He moved his paperwork and laptop into his home office, turned on the computer and went on the shared file drive to check if Finch had uploaded any new files.
Nothing. She must be pissed!

He spent about a half hour reviewing papers and drinking scotch. His eyes were heavy. He thought about calling it an early night but he continued working anyway. Then, he received a text from Finch. “KNOCK, KNOCK!” Simultaneously he heard a knock at his front door. He walked over to the door. It was Finch. She entered the house. Brown closed the door behind her.

Brown said, “I was really stupid earlier.”

She responded, “Don’t worry about it. I got a lot of info from her that I think you should hear. She gave me some…”

Brown interrupted, “I don’t want to talk about work just yet. Spend some time with me.” He kissed Meghan. She dropped her bags and kissed him back. They took each other’s clothes off and began to make love. He tossed her down on the couch. She moaned as he pressed his body against hers. She pulled him closer and bit him on the ear. 

1129 COBALT ROAD was written in faded white paint on the side of the red mailbox at the edge of the driveway. Roger didn’t initially see the house but turned into the driveway. In the distance, they could see the house was recessed behind a small wooded area and a large front yard. Roger pulled the truck down the long cobblestone driveway that led to the front door. The ground was not level. The older truck bounced roughly as the tires eased over the damp stones and splashed through little pools of water from the rain.

The place was not very welcoming. The yard had not been kept up. Old leaves from last fall were scattered across the yard. Spring grass had no chance of flourishing. In the yard were a few rusty old cars and trucks from the 50s with various parts removed. There was a pile of tires and a pile of hubcaps on either side of the house. Organized clutter. There was also a shed off to the right side of the house, a lawnmower and rake leaning against the side. There were three rainwater collection barrels on the left side of the house and another against the shed. As Roger drove closer to the house, the cobblestone driveway slowly turned into gravel, then sand, then grass. A six foot tall light post stood at the end.

The home was a wood sided Victorian built in 1918. It had two chimneys, a white door, a wooden white painted porch, white shutters around the windows and a slate roof. Hanging from the windows were empty flower baskets. Along the front of the house was a series of perennial flowers and untamed shrubs that had grown up past the bottom of the first floor windows. They hadn’t been trimmed in at least a couple years. A sparrow had made a nest in a crack by the drain attached to the roof and slipped into the hole just as Roger and Abigail shut off the engine. A silver wind chime hung from the roof of the porch. The light wind blew just enough for it to create a soft melody that set anyone at ease. The stairs were cement with a white railing. 

Abigail and Roger exited the truck. Roger walked over to Abigail as she investigated the exterior of the home. Neither of them were completely comfortable with visiting strangers, but Roger trusted whomever his mother trusted. Too bad it wasn’t the other way around. They walked past the dirty old trucks and over the leafy yard. There was a dead black bird lying in the leaves. Abigail felt no sentiment and stepped over it as if it were an object. The only thing she felt was the dry crunch of leaves under her heels as she walked to the house. They reminded her of the leaves she ran over in her dreams except they were not lush and green. She could hear mice and squirrels shuffling in the woods, around the house and by the shed. They reached the edge of the porch.

Roger asked, “Ready?”

She replied, “Let’s do it.”

They walked up the porch, reached the door and knocked. Within seconds a tall, older man with salt and pepper hair opened the door. The smell of incense rushed out the door and into their faces.

Dr. Colin Paltee was more than six feet tall. Under his left eye, he had a birth mark shaped like the state of Florida. It was darker than his natural skin tone. He sported a long ponytail that was braided in the back, gathered together with a leather strap. He had a mustache, glasses, and wore a beaded necklace and bracelet. “Abigail? So that’s what they are calling you now. Abigail! Yes!” He was excited. “Well look at you! It was long ago, but I remember you. Come in.”

They entered the house through the front room to see Native American artifacts and artwork which decorated the walls of the home. He had many books piled onto shelves and tables. His house was full of his research. There were faded pictures on the wall of an older Native American male and female. Abigail would have guessed that they were Paltee’s parents. There was another picture of a young woman that Roger thought resembled Abigail. She had two long braids that stretched over her shoulders. She was beautiful. The picture was dusty. It was clear there were no women or children currently in his life, possibly because Paltee was completely submerged in his work. He walked Roger and Abigail around the house, showing them a few things they were not very interested in seeing, before they made their way to the living room on the back side of the house.

Dr. Paltee said, “I haven’t heard from Terry in a couple years. But when she told me about you, I had to meet you again. Have a seat.”

They all sat in the living room on a very comfortable couch. Dr. Paltee had tea ready on the coffee table. He asked, “Tea?”

They shook their heads. Roger placed the pictures of the tattoos on the table. Dr. Paltee looked at them. “It’s been a while since I have seen these,” he said in reference to the tattoos. “Oh such beautiful work,” he said as he examined the pictures. He had a curious smile on his face as he fumbled through the various images of Abigail’s back.

Abigail also pulled out her little bible and dropped in on the coffee table. Paltee picked it up and was confused. Abigail opened it and showed him the handwritten the note: E2 ON THE FIRST FOURTEEN.

Abigail said, “Someone wrote this but I don’t understand.”

Dr. Paltee read aloud, “EZ on the first fourteen.”

She said, “No E2 on the…” then she realized what she thought was a two was a fancy letter Z. “EZ?” she questioned.

“EZEKIEL?” Roger shouted out. Roger didn’t know why he knew that.

Abigail grabbed the book and turned to the book of Ezekiel. The first four verses had nothing of interest she could connect to. It was verse five that made her stomach drop.

Verse 5:
Also out of the midst thereof came the likeness of four living creatures. And this was their appearance; they had the likeness of a man.

Verse 6:
And every one had four faces, and every one had four wings. 

Verse 7:
And their feet were straight feet; and the sole of their feet was like the sole of a calf's foot: and they sparkled like the color of burnished brass.

Verse 8:
And they had the hands of a man under their wings on their four sides; and they four had their faces and their wings.

Verse 9:
Their wings were joined one to another; they turned not when they went; they went every one straight forward.

Verse 10:
As for the likeness of their faces, they four had the face of a man, and the face of a lion, on the right side: and they four had the face of an ox on the left side; they four also had the face of an eagle.

Verse 11:
Thus were their faces: and their wings were stretched upward; two wings of every one were joined one to another, and two covered their bodies.

Verse 12:
And they went every one straight forward: whither the spirit was to go, they went; and they turned not when they went.

Verse 13:
As for the likeness of the living creatures, their appearance was like burning coals of fire, and like the appearance of lamps: it went up and down among the living creatures; and the fire was bright, and out of the fire went forth lightning.

Verse 14:
And the living creatures ran and returned as the appearance of a flash of lightning.

Abigail was astonished, “Ezekiel, the first 14 verses in the book. It speaks of human/beast hybrids. These are the beasts I’ve been dreaming about.”Abigail handed the book to Dr. Paltee and asked, “What does this mean?” 

Paltee closed the book, “Whoever wrote this was trying to remind you in case you forgot.” He looked sad and sipped his tea. “You obviously have forgotten, haven’t you?” He adjusted his glasses before he spoke again saying, “I’m not sure what you know and what you don’t know about project Flutter.”