314 Book 3 (Widowsfield Trilogy) (6 page)

“Hello, Michael,” said Raymond’s father, his tone mired by anger.

“What do you want?” asked Michael of Desmond, but he looked down at Raymond, a glimmer of recognition that caused the boy to cower.

“I need to talk to Terry,” said Desmond.

“Well, she’s busy.” Michael looked dirty, his white t-shirt sodden with sweat that had turned the pits yellow.

“I’m not trying to pester her, or you,” said Desmond. “If you two want to rot away in this place, I just don’t have the energy to care anymore. I need the keys to our cabin in Forsyth. I’m taking my boy out there for a fishing trip. We already paid the fees, but I’d rather not spend the money on a hotel if possible.”

“Yeah, well…” Michael Harper’s words started to linger, as if they were taking longer to exit his mouth than they should. His voice deepened, and his movements languished. “I think she’s already…” his words slowed down too much to be understood, like a tape deck slowly losing power.

Raymond tried to tug at his father’s hand, but discovered that his own body was caught in the slow flow of time that Michael seemed to be trapped in. Raymond had been focused on Michael, but then noticed a swirling blackness behind the man. The wall on the far side of Terry’s cabin looked like a pool of black, and within was a single eye watching them.

Then Raymond heard The Watcher speak, “Michael Harper.” The creature sounded pleased. “I like the nightmares you inspire.”

Philadelphia

June 13
th
, 1943

“Is that really him?” asked Lyle as he leaned against the railing overlooking the naval yard on the Delaware River. He was watching an older gentleman that was smoking a pipe while touring the destroyer escort anchored in the yard.

It was a bright, summer day, and the old, white-haired man on the ship was in shorts and sandals, appearing dramatically out of place among the host of smartly dressed Navy men that guided him. The gulls called as the water lapped against the concrete basin. The wind carried the scent of the water and oil, a mix of musty odor and industrial pollution – a confluence of nature and man’s abuse of it.

The ships groaned in the harbor, as if their steel ached, as the water rose and fell against them. Lichen clung to their grey sides, waving in the water like tiny hairs on metal skin.

“Yes, that’s him,” said Vess, unimpressed.

“Wow,” said Lyle with a beaming grin. He was young, impressionable, and enticed by the lure of fame. Lyle shook his head in disbelief as he gazed at the most famous person he’d ever seen in real life. “I can’t believe it’s really him.”

Vess was unmoved, and stood with his back to the railing. He was taller than Lyle, and much thinner. While Lyle looked the epitome of fitness, his partner was a wraith by comparison. “You give him too much credit.”

“I do, do I?” asked Lyle with a snort and a quick shake of his head. “I guess me and the rest of the world are fooled, aye? You’re the only one that ain’t been taken in?”

Vess ignored the baited question and just nodded.

Lyle waved off his employer’s indifference. “Suit yourself. Me? I’m looking forward to shaking his hand. After all, ain’t he the one who set this whole thing in motion? If what you said was true, and this experiment really could put an end to the war, then I figure I’d like to shake the hand of the man that made it possible.”

“Then you’ll be shaking hands with a corpse,” said Vess.

Lyle glared over at his friend, expecting the tall, sickly man to elaborate. When Vess stayed quiet, Lyle prodded, “Well, out with it then. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The man that set this in motion has been dead for five months now.”

“And who’d that be, then?” asked Lyle.

“Nikola Tesla,” said Vess.

Lyle smirked, sucked in air through his teeth, and then said, “Nope, sorry, but that name’s not ringing any bells.”

Vess grimaced at the younger man, and then shook his head as if in disgust.

“What? I’m not a scientist or nothing,” said Lyle. “Who the heck is this Tesla character?”

“Never
mind,” said Vess, appearing bored with the conversation. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Sure it does,” said Lyle as he hooked his thumbs under his suspenders and leaned against the railing with his legs crossed, looking the part of a relaxing dockworker. “We ain’t got nothing but time. Give me the skinny on this Tesla character. What’s he got to do with all this?”

A harsh breeze swept up from the river, and Vess pinched the edge of his wide-brimmed fedora to keep it from flying off. His solid blue blazer fluttered and when the breeze had calmed he buttoned his coat.

“Come on, Vess,” said Lyle. “Clue me in.”

“Your friend up there owes a lot to Tesla, that’s all,” said Vess as he motioned back at the ship where the white-haired man was still touring with the naval officers following along. “We wouldn’t be here if the FBI hadn’t raided Nikola’s hotel.”

“So this guy was a scientist or something?” asked Lyle.

Again, Vess regarded his companion with disdain. “Yes, he was. Perhaps the single most important scientist in modern history, not that goons like you would ever know it.”

“No need to be grumpy,” said Lyle. “Why’d the FBI raid his place?”

“Because they’re a bunch of jackbooted thugs. They illegally seized all of Nikola’s belongings, including the notes from his experiments.”

“Illegally?” asked Lyle. “How’d they get away with that?”

“They claimed he was an alien.”

Lyle guffawed and said, “You mean like from the Flash Gordon serials? Like he was Ming or something?”

Vess sneered and shook his head, “No, you idiot. Not that sort of alien. Alien as in not a resident of the United States, even though he was. They had no right to his belongings, but that didn’t even put a stutter in their step. They marched right in and seized the whole lot. That’s the only reason your idol’s up there now, gallivanting around like he’s the one that came up with this idea. No doubt he’s been studying Tesla’s notes day and night.”

“Looks like you’ll get your chance to ask him,” said Lyle as he straightened his posture. “He’s headed back this way.”

The white-haired scientist was puffing a briar pipe, holding the bowl with the black stem between his lips. His bushy hair and loose fitting clothes rustled in the breeze as he descended the plank from the Destroyer escort to the harbor. His sandals clopped against his bare feet, a stark contrast to the shined shoes of the General that followed behind him.

Lyle took off his dull brown newsboy cap and held it to his chest with his left hand as he extended his right in greeting. “Sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, oh,” said the elderly scientist with a grin. He shook Lyle’s hand and his words were flavored with a German accent, “Good to meet you.” Then the older man’s demeanor darkened as he looked past Lyle and at Vess. The scientist stared through the round spectacles that had drifted to the tip of his large nose, his pipe lowered, and then he nodded to Lyle's companion and spoke with a tone that teetered on disdain. “Vess.”

Vess didn’t bother taking off his hat to greet the famous scientist. He just nodded and spoke with an equal amount of disdain, “Einstein.”

Inside Cada E.I.B.’s Compound

March 13th, 2012

2:45 AM

Paul had retrieved the older nurse, Helen, and brought her to the room with the others. He remembered that Helen said Michael had stolen her car when he took Ben, and the group
needed to figure out a way to track him down. Helen had told Rachel that her car was a light blue, 2000 Ford Escort, but the reporter’s next question confounded the nurse.

“Do I know my license plate number?” asked Helen as if what she’d been asked was ludicrous. “Of course not. Who in the heck memorizes their license plate number?”

“Do you have your license?” asked Rachel.

Helen nodded and then took a billfold out of her smock. As she handed it to Rachel she asked, “What do you need it for?”

“I can use a little reporter magic.” Rachel took the license from the nurse. “I’ll use the description of the car and the license to see if I can track down Michael.”

“How will you do that?” asked Alma.

“I’ve got my ways,” said Rachel with a devilish smirk. “If we can find a computer with an internet connection I can get this done a lot faster.”

“That’s no problem,” said Helen. “My co-worker’s always on her laptop. I’ll go get it for you.”

The older, rotund woman left to go get the other nurse’s computer. Alma waited until she was gone and then asked again, “So how are you going to find him?”

“If we can get
her license plate number then we can check with the State Police to see if he’s been pulled over. There aren’t any tolls nearby, unfortunately, otherwise we could use them. We can also start calling hotels in the area to see if anyone’s checked in that matches his description. He might even have to give them his license plate number when checking in.”

“Will they give out that sort of info?” asked Jacker, surprised that this was legal.

“Depends on who’s asking for it,” answered Stephen with a knowing smile. He was clearly familiar with Rachel’s wile.

“How long do you think that’ll take?” asked
Rosemary.

Rachel shrugged. “Hard to say. Could be ten minutes, but it could take hours. We might not get any leads at all. Depends on how lucky we get.”

“I don’t usually rely on luck,” said Rosemary. “That well ran dry years ago.”

“What do you suggest we do?” asked Paul.

Rosemary considered the situation and then came up with a solution. “We need to split up. One group will stay here and try and find Michael and Ben with your friend here,” she motioned to Rachel. “And the other will go with Alma and me to track them down in my security van.”

“In a
van?” asked Paul. “They could’ve headed over to 65 and be down in Arkansas by now. Or they could be headed north to Springfield. We’ve got no clue where he went.”

“Wait,” said Rachel in concern. She looked at Rosemary and said, “I thought you just wanted help finding Michael and Ben. I didn’t know you wanted any of us to go chasing after him with you. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

The nurse returned with a laptop, interrupting Rachel as she handed the computer to her. Rosemary turned to the nurse and said, “Thanks for your help, Helen. Do you think you could show me where you were parked before he stole your car?”

Helen nodded and said, “Sure, I guess.”

“Alma, you come with me,” said Rosemary, commanding the group as if they’d all agreed she had the right. “Who else is coming with us to go track down Michael and Ben?”

“Guys, this is a bad idea,” said Rachel, but her soft voice was overwhelmed by Paul’s.

“Wait.” Paul was frustrated with the stranger. “You didn’t answer my question. How in the hell are we going to know where to go?”

“Trust me,” said Rosemary. “I’ve got my ways.”

“I’ll go,” said Jacker.

“I’ll stay and help Rachel,” said Stephen.

“Paul?” asked Rosemary as the others accepted their assignments.

“I’ll go wherever Alma’s going.”

“Okay, then you’re with us,” said Rosemary. “I trust you guys have cell phones to keep in touch with one another?” She pointed between the various members of the group, and they nodded in agreement. “Good. Rachel, call us with any details you’re able to find out. But you can’t tell anyone about what’s going on here. Okay? I can’t stress that enough.”

“Fine,” said Rachel, but she was flustered by how the group was making decisions without listening to her input. “But I really think this is a mistake…”

Rosemary interrupted her, “We need to hurry.”

“Hold on,” said Jacker. “Let me get my stuff.” He lifted a cardboard box onto one of the gurneys and began to pick through the contents until he found his wallet and keys. Then he paused before picking up the purple sobriety coin that Paul had given him back in Chicago, the night before they left for Widowsfield. He lifted the coin and muttered, “Damn, look at this.”

“What about it?” asked Rosemary, oddly intrigued.

“Paul gave this to me.”

“Does it have significance to you?” asked Rosemary.

Jacker looked over at Paul when he answered, “Damn straight it does.”

“Then give it to me,” said Rosemary.

Jacker looked perplexed and clasped the coin in his palm. “No, that’s all right. I think I’ll hold onto this.”

“I’m not going to steal it,” said Rosemary as if chastising a child. “In fact, it would be in everyone’s best interest to figure out something you’re carrying that has some sort of significance to you, something that you think is important, and give it to me.”

“Why?” asked Alma.

“Because we’re going to be fighting something that can use your worst fears against you,” said Rosemary.

“Fighting it?” asked Rachel, incredulous as she looked around at the others. She was becoming exasperated as she realized that she was the only one that wasn’t fully on board with their plan. “Look, lady, I’ll help you track down Michael and Ben if I can, but that’s as far as I go with this. I’m not fighting any demon or whatever.”