314 Book 3 (Widowsfield Trilogy) (13 page)

After the third time she jolted awake, she cursed and said, “Have you found anything yet?”

Stephen was reading an article online, and held up his finger to tell her to give him a minute. After a little while longer, he said, “That’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” asked Rachel.

“That can’t be a coincidence.”

“What can’t be?” asked Rachel, feeling as if her husband was purposefully ignoring her.

“It looks like people have been finding evidence of ships being built all over the place. Usually at abandoned military sites. They’re not finding the actual ships, but… here, look.” He moved aside so that Rachel could see the computer screen.

She sat up carefully, still unsettled by the gurney’s mobility, and looked at the picture that Stephen had found. It looked like a patch of dry earth but there was a clear indentation in the ground that resembled the shape of a battleship. It also appeared as if there were dirt roads leading to the area, as well as a large square that might’ve once been a building. Everything that had been built there was now gone, but the footprint hadn’t been erased.

“What am I looking at?”

“This is a picture someone found using Google Earth. This one’s at White Sands Missile Range in New Mexico. And there are others, all similar, as if someone built a huge ship out in the middle of nowhere and then disassembled it.”

“Is that what happened here?” asked Rachel.

“I don’t know,” said Stephen as he studied the picture. “Maybe.”

“But I thought Alma said the ship had been in the reservoir. Why are the others on dry land?”

“I don’t know,” said Stephen. “I’m not sure it’s even related, but it’s still weird. The official explanation for this one is that they were digging up dirt to build a berm to protect people from missile tests, but why did they dig it in the exact shape of a battleship?”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make much sense,” said Rachel. “Have any of the sites mentioned them being Greek boats?”

“No, not that I’ve found.”

“Do you think we should call Alma?”

Stephen shook his head. “No, not yet. There’s not much to tell her. I’ll keep looking for something else.”

After a moment’s contemplation, Rachel said, “I can’t help but feel like we’re being really stupid here.”

“What do you mean?”

She looked around the room and shook her head. “Don’t you think we should’ve called the cops by now?”

“Absolutely not,” said Stephen with conviction. “They’re not going to take our side. I promise you that.”

“But there’s a room full of prisoners over there,” she pointed to the sleepers’ room. “And they did something to us too. Back at home, when I was beating Alma at Scrabble the other night, you said that this Cada E.I.B. company brokered weapons between the US and other countries. Right?”

“Yeah,” said Stephen.

“Well, maybe that’s all this is. Maybe they developed some nerve toxin that screws with your head, and gives you nightmares.”

“I don’t think they manufactured weapons,” said Stephen. “From what I read, they just brokered deals between countries.”

“Well, they’re also in the business of hiding hundreds of victims,” said Rachel. “So I don’t think it’s a stretch to think that maybe they’re doing more than just brokering deals.”

“Yeah, you might be right,” said Stephen. “But there’s still no way I’m calling the cops.”

“Why the hell not?” asked Rachel.

“Because this shit’s been going on here for sixteen years, and no one’s done anything about it as of yet. I know it’s crazy to think that the entire police force all around this area is in on it, but it’s also crazy to think that none of them ever investigated everything that happened here in ’96. Every resident of this town vanished, and I never saw anything about a massive investigation. That’s not the sort of thing that should happen without a lot of people asking a bunch of questions, but here in Widowsfield it was just swept under the carpet with some bullshit excuse about the people here being in a meth ring. Someone up high in the chain of command of the police had to have been in on keeping this quiet.”

“Maybe the FBI or the military took over the investigation,” said Rachel.

“Yeah, maybe. And maybe if we call the cops now, they’ll hang up with us and then get right on the phone with the FBI or the military to let them know that people are snooping around in the town again. Fuck that. We’ll deal with this ourselves.”

Rachel laughed, and then she saw that Stephen wasn’t joking and she started to laugh harder. “We’re going to deal with it ourselves? What are you talking about? What are we going to do?”

Stephen smirked and gave his wife a demeaning look of disapproval. “How can you claim to be a reporter and still have no concept of the weapon we’ve got on our side?”

“What are you talking about?”

Stephen pointed over to the box that had their belongings in it. “My camera is in that box. They already erased the footage I had of Widowsfield from before, but the camera still works.” Then he pointed at the computer that Helen had provided them with. “And we’ve got a computer right here.”

“You want to broadcast what’s happening here?” asked Rachel as his plan dawned on her.

He nodded in satisfaction. “Damn straight.”

Rachel’s expression turned from intrigued to concerned. “Don’t you think they’d find out and come shut us down immediately?”

“We don’t have to do it live.”

“But then how can we be sure the info gets out?” asked Rachel. “What if someone gets to us first?”

“We can do it in segments, and then put them on our site with a delay on publishing,” said Stephen. “It’s not hard to do that. We can start by recording that horror-show in the next room, and upload the video with it set to publish a couple nights from now, like on the 15
th
. Then, as long as we get out of this alive, we can stop the video from publishing and figure out how we want to handle everything. But, if something does end up happening to us, then at least we know that the information will get out. And if we end up unconscious and strapped to a gurney again, if the video gets out then we’ll have a shot at someone coming to rescue us.”

Rachel grinned and said, “Stephen Knight, I was wrong about you.”

“What about?”

“You’re not as stupid as you look.”

“Ha ha,” said Stephen with a sideways grin. “You should get your makeup and do yourself up. You’ve still got bedhead.”

Rachel grimaced as she patted her hair down. “Are we doing this now?”

“Might as well,” said Stephen. “Who knows what this place has in store for us next.”

Philadelphia

June 15
th
, 1943

Lyle felt the immediate surge of electricity after Vess turned the CORD on. The ample hair on Lyle’s arms stood up as blue arcs of electricity crackled across the silver rings of both pillars. Then the machine began to make a grinding sound as the rings spun, controlled by a motor hidden within the pillar. Each ring spun opposite its neighbors, and lightning streaked between them with more intensity as the machine sped up.

“Holy hell!” Lyle had to shout over the crackling bursts.

Vess was grinning as if he couldn’t help himself. He pointed at the pillars and screamed, “Watch it. Watch the electricity. It should change color.”

Lyle stared at the machine, but had to shield his eyes from the intensity of the light. The walls of the massive bay of the USS Eldridge flashed blue as the electricity intensified, but then Lyle saw that the color was changing. Slowly, the hue turned green.

Then Vess pulled several of the levers on the control panel of the CORD. When he did, the electricity died, and the rings began to slow down. The explosive noise calmed as Vess cheered.

“It works! I can’t believe they did it. Groves and his men actually did it. The
CORD works, Lyle!”

“Fine, great,” said Lyle as he ran his hand over his arm to see if his hair would still stand on its own again. “But, what the hell does it do?”

Vess moved to the side, away from the control panel that he’d been operating. His tall, slender frame was dwarfed by the size of the monstrous contraption Leslie Groves had built. Lyle wasn’t an uneducated man, although he knew he wasn’t on the same level as the men he’d been surrounded with that day. From the talk of Tesla, to shaking the hand of the world’s most famous living scientist, Lyle felt like an ant among giants. He’d discounted Vess as a well-funded lunatic when they first met, and had only agreed to the job for the ample pay the man promised. Today, however, his previous impressions had been proven incorrect. As he and Vess stood within the bowels of a massive navy vessel, staring at a machine that seemed plucked from a Frankenstein set, Lyle knew he’d been thrust into the center of what might be a world-changing experiment. Unfortunately, he didn’t understand any of it.

Lyle Everman had answered an ad in the paper requesting the assistance of people who believed that they possessed some level of psychic power. Lyle had never taken much stock in the world of psychics, believing the majority of them to be charlatans in dark rooms with tricks up their sleeves and bells on their boots. However, his mother had always told him that he possessed unnatural gifts, and that she’d witnessed his abilities manifest shortly after his bout with tuberculosis. Instead of being intrigued by her son’s newfound abilities, Lyle’s mother was terrified of them. She called it his ‘curse’ and insisted that he keep quiet about his unnatural powers. Those abilities, combined with how
the combination of his illness and his father’s polio had bankrupted their family, led the Mrs. Everman to shun her child. He left home at a young age, and had been wandering the country ever since, doing whatever he needed to survive.

Lyle wasn’t certain how his abilities worked, but there was no denying that he had a better chance of guessing another player’s hand in poker than any other person he knew. His card
playing ability had been the reason he’d been able to forego a proper job for most of his life, only recently having to give up gambling after having a run-in with mobsters that were certain he was a cheater, but just couldn’t prove it. He’d fled New York, and settled in Philadelphia, where he saw the ad asking for psychics to come participate in a test. All applicants would receive a small amount of pay, and anyone that could prove ability would be paid handsomely for their service.

How a simple card trick had earned Lyle a spot on the Eldridge, observing this experiment, was a mystery to him.

Vess lifted a latch on the side of the square that seemed to have no function. Then he pulled on it, revealing it was attached to a door that was otherwise imperceptible. He pulled the door wide, and then motioned inside.

“This is where you come in, Mr. Everman,” said Vess. “Figuratively and literally,” Vess grinned, which caused him to look more maniacal than usual.

“What are you on about?” asked Lyle as if Vess was fooling him. “I’m not going in there.”

“Don’t worry, it’s insulated,” said Vess. “You won’t be harmed.”

“Even so,” Lyle laughed as he shook his head, “I think I’d rather stay out here.”

“Look, here,” said Vess as he positioned the door to reveal that the inside of it was filled with a black layer of rubber. “The inside is insulated. You won’t be in any danger. In fact, inside here is the safest place in the room.”

“Are we both getting in?” asked Lyle.

“No, I have to stay outside to operate the
CORD.”

“Then I’m not going in neither.”

“I think you’ll change your mind when I tell you what this machine is for,” said Vess.

“Maybe, but unless Rita Hayworth’s in there with her top off, I ain’t going in.” He crossed his arms and grinned as if the
two of them were sharing a laugh.

“Through this door, Mr. Everman, you’re going to play a part in the greatest experiment in the history of man. Your name will go down as the single most important explorer to ever live.”

“Explorer of what? A big, empty death trap?”

“An explorer of other worlds.”

Lyle frowned and looked suspiciously at the machine. “I’m not following.”

“You have a gift, Lyle,” said Vess as he stepped closer. “You showed me that during your test. It’s undeniable. You have an ability that’s one in a million, or even one in a billion. And it’s because of that ability that you’re here. It’s the reason that you might be able to help us put an end to this damnable war; maybe even an end to all war.”

“How’s that exactly?”

“Tesla had a theory that he was working on in secret for the last couple of decades before his death. This,” Vess stepped back over to the
CORD and slapped his hand against the metal side, “is the result of his research. You see, he theorized that our dimension, the very world around us, is actually just one of several layers of existence.”

“You’re losing me,” said Lyle. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Imagine a stack of paper,” said Vess. “Now imagine that one of the pages in that stack represents our world. On that single page exists everything you know of as reality. As human beings, we only exist on that page, but our energy isn’t confined to it.”