314 Book 3 (Widowsfield Trilogy) (17 page)

“Oliver,” she called out. “I just want to help.”

She moved cautiously forward, following the trail of blood. She had no reason to suspect what was about to happen. When she saw the bloody, abandoned shoe in the middle of the hall in front of her, she paused in confusion.

She couldn’t have guessed that Oliver had taken his shoe off in the elevator and wrapped his wounded foot with his shirt. She had no reason to suspect that he would’ve used the bloody shoe to create a false track, and then hid in a room along the way to wait for someone to dare and chase after him.

Oliver approached from behind, and then bashed the young nurse in the back of the head with a fire extinguisher. She fell immediately to her knees, but he hadn’t hit her hard enough to knock her out. Her red glasses bounced off the floor as she cried out in shock and pain before he hit her again, this time with enough force to drop her.

Oliver lifted the young, thin nurse into his arms, and groaned in pain as he tried to walk on his damaged foot. Her head was bleeding, and he did his best to keep the blood from dripping to the floor as he retraced the false trail he’d left. He carried the nurse deeper into the facility, and finally to a locked room. He struggled to get his key out while still holding the unconscious girl, but managed to finally get the door open.

He started to flip the multiple switches that turned on the lights in the massive room. One by one, the rows of lights hanging far above burst to life, revealing the cavernous room that held the secret that Vess had left Oliver in charge of.

Oliver approached the
CORD with the nurse still in his arms. The machine was dormant, for now. But once he got the young woman inside, he would start the process of powering the monstrous machine.

Despite how The Accord had ordered that the machine be disassembled and taken to a new location, and that the facility in Widowsfield be abandoned, Oliver was intent on meeting the entity that had come to be known as The Watcher in the Walls.

Widowsfield

March 14
th
, 1998

Alma Harper was only ten years old when her mother tried to kill her. Amanda had strapped her unconscious daughter into the car seat after they’d left the home of the woman that Michael had been sleeping with. Amanda knew the truth now, and realized that the only way to save Ben was to kill herself, and Alma along with her. She was prepared to plunge off the cliff that overlooked the Jackson Reservoir. When Alma awoke, she told the girl her plan, and then drove them both through the guardrail at the edge of the cliff.

That lurching feeling that surged in Alma’s gut as the car fell off the cliff would haunt her for the rest of her life.

How she’d managed to get out of the car after it crashed and started to sink was nothing less than miraculous. Her mother had been knocked unconscious when the airbags deployed, but Alma only had the wind knocked out of her. She screamed as the water rushed in, and tried to open her door, but the pressure exerted on the sinking car kept the doors shut tight.

The car’s lights were still on, revealing some of the murky depths of the reservoir. She could see the movement of catfish as they swam out of the way of the sinking car, just flashes of shadows in the soupy green. Alma rolled down her window and allowed the water to rush in. After taking a final gulp of fleeting air, she hoped to swim out of the open window.

The incoming water woke Amanda, and she saw that Alma was trying to escape. She grabbed at the girl’s ankles, desperate to keep her in the grave. She clawed at her, but Alma kicked and struggled as the water swallowed her up. Finally, Amanda lost her grip, and Alma tried to swim to what she thought was the surface.

A bloom of light hung above, all but hidden by the dark water. Catfish swam between Alma and the surface, like monsters through mist, but Alma moved past them in a desperate attempt to reach safety.

Now she was on the shore, crawling across the grass in an attempt to reach the road ahead. She wailed as best she could, though her body offered barely enough strength to cry. When she got to the pavement, she collapsed.

Ben found her. He held his sister in his lap and wept for her. Alma opened her eyes and looked up at the brother she’d thought was lost. She felt his arms around her, and she reached up to touch his cheek. “Ben?”
Was he alive? Was she dead?

“Hi Alma,” said the boy that held her. “I missed you so much.”

“Ben, I’m so sorry. I forgot about you. I’m so sorry, but I remember now.”

“It’s going to be okay, Alma,” said Ben. “Someone’s going to come and help you.”

“Mom tried to kill me,” said Alma. “She drove us off the cliff. Why would she do that?” She quaked with sorrow and her brother held her tighter.

“I don’t know, Alma. They hated us.
Both of them.” The malice in his words was startling. “Forget them, Alma. You’ve got to forget what they did, otherwise it’ll make you hate everything.”

“Why would she try to kill me? Why didn’t she love me?” asked Alma as she wept.
“Why does everyone hate me?”

Ben hushed her and said, “I love you, Alma. I’ll always love you.”

“Why would she do that?” Alma could only focus on her mother’s betrayal.

“Close your eyes, Alma. Just imagine you’re headed back home. Okay? Imagine she’s driving you back to Chicago to stay with Nana. Just forget about this. Pretend like Mommy loved you.”

Widowsfield

March 13
th
, 1996

“It’s good to finally meet you,” said Oliver as he was introduced to the man that had been the architect of the CORD project.

Vess’s
appearance was a shock. He didn’t look as old as Oliver had expected, but there was certainly something terribly wrong with the man’s health. He was tall, and so thin that his clothes hung on him as if his shoulders were a hanger. He had a gaunt face and skin that was plagued by a grey pallor. His white hair was thinning, and he had dark bags under his eyes, but his face wasn’t as beset with wrinkles as it should’ve been for a man that had participated in the first CORD experiment, over fifty years earlier. The sparse fat on Vess’s face drooped, giving him the appearance of a hound, and the edges of his eyes slunk. He reminded Oliver of a wax figure that had begun to melt.

“You must be Oliver,” said
Vess as he struggled to move forward, relying heavily upon his walker. He was frail, but it appeared a result of illness rather than age.

Oliver wasn’t sure if he should offer help. The two large, barrel-chested men that had escorted
Vess to the dam stood on either side of the old man, each dressed in similar attire: Suit jackets with matching slacks. Each of them was equipped with an earpiece that had a looping cord that stretched out from beneath their coats. Neither of the members of Vess’s security team seemed concerned with their employer’s ability to walk, so Oliver decided not to offer help either. Instead, he matched Vess’s slow but steady pace as they headed toward the railed stairs that led up to the dam’s observation area.

Vess
and his entourage had arrived in a line of black Lincoln town cars, as if a funeral procession had paused here. The majority of his group lingered back at the cars, taking the opportunity to smoke and chat, while Vess and his two bodyguards walked over to meet with Oliver. Vess and the others had driven here from New York, stopping at other Cada E.I.B. facilities along the way. However, the Widowsfield endeavor had become a top priority for the company, and Vess’s arrival signaled that the board had agreed it was time to begin what they all hoped would be a successful experiment.

This was
Vess’s personal project, and one that he’d been attempting to duplicate since what happened in Philadelphia over a half century earlier. Oliver was honored to be involved.

“There she is,” said Oliver as they went up the slight hill that led from the road up to the concrete side of the Jackson Reservoir. The battleship that had been meticulously rebuilt to
match the ship where the original experiment had taken place was floating before them. “The Leon,” said Oliver with pride.

Vess
paused and looked at Oliver. “That’s what the Greeks called her.” He looked back at the ship in reverence. “But that’s not who she really is.”

“No?” asked Oliver.

Vess handed his four-legged walker back to one of the two men that walked with them. Then he grabbed the stair’s railing to steady himself. He carefully stepped up, and Oliver noticed that the man’s leg wobbled. “No, Oliver. Didn’t anyone tell you why we bought this ship from Greece?”

“No sir,” said Oliver. “I was just privy to the details about the psychic we needed to get.”

Vess nodded and explained, “We didn’t buy just any boat. That ship might’ve lived the past fifty years with the name ‘Leon’ painted on its side, but she’ll never stop being the Eldridge.”

Oliver looked back at the massive battleship with new respect.
“Really? That’s the same boat?”

“Yes. That’s why we bought her back. The Navy sold her after removing the
CORD. No one expected that the ship itself had anything to do with the experiment. Since then, we’ve developed new theories about how the device works. We’re trying to do everything we can to replicate the Philadelphia experiment.”

“And the ship ties into it?”

Vess nodded as they walked along the edge of the dam that separated the reservoir from the lake that rested sixty feet below on the other side. When opened, the dam would spill water and create a manmade waterfall that could be viewed from the observation deck where Vess and Oliver were walking, but the area had been closed during Cada E.I.B.s construction of the Greek battleship, the Leon.

The town of
Widowsfield had agreed to allow the company to close off the normally public land in exchange for Cada E.I.B.’s promise to build a plant on the outskirts of the town. Widowsfield was attempting to capitalize on the sudden popularity of nearby Branson, and thought it would be smart to woo in large businesses to the area with the promise of relaxed regulation and low county taxes. By the time the ship was built, Cada E.I.B. had already proven to the city council of their intent to invest a large amount of money into the town. They’d purchased a sizeable amount of land on the north side of town, and had already constructed a massive office building. They were promising to hire a minimum of 500 employees, which would draw in families from other states that were looking for work and interested in living near Branson.

Cada
E.I.B. had explained that they needed to use the reservoir to build a replica of a World War 2 era battleship that would eventually be attached to a visitor’s center and museum. The town happily agreed, never suspecting that the European investment group was actually a front for a group of scientists that were experimenting with a potentially world-changing device.

“The theory is that the walls of the ship itself have something to do with how the
CORD works. Something to do with harmonic resonance.” Vess tapped a ring on his finger against the metal railing, causing the rail to hum. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

“Pi day,” said Oliver as they neared the bridge that crossed the gap between the dam’s observation area and the Eldridge.

“Yes,” said Vess. “Are you privy to the reason for that?”

“I thought it was just for symbolism’s sake,” said Oliver. “That’s what the engineer
they sent out to build the CORD said.”

“He’s right,” said
Vess. “But I doubt he understands the significance.”

The bridge that led to the deck of the ship was inclined, and
Vess struggled to get up. Oliver reached over to assist him, but Vess pushed his hand away. “I’m fine. I can do it myself.”

Oliver meekly apologized and glanced back at the two men that walked behind them. The one carrying the old man’s walker nodded to Oliver with empathy. He understood that the reason the two guards never offered to help
Vess was because the elderly man was too proud to accept it.

They got to the bridge, and
Vess took his walker back. He paused and admired the ship before saying, “It’s like stepping back in time. It looks exactly like it did back in 1943.”

“The engineers brought along pictures that they referred to so that they could get every detail as close as possible,” said Oliver.

“Then let’s not waste any more time,” said Vess. “Take me to see the CORD.”

“This way,” said Oliver as he led
Vess along. As they were walking, Oliver asked, “What did you mean about the significance of the symbolism?”

“They want to own the date.”

Oliver was confounded and asked, “What do you mean?”

“Symbolism makes a much bigger difference than you might expect. It’s the sort of thing that gives power to the powerless. Symbolism sneaks into our brains and cements itself there whether we realize it or not.”

“And they want to take advantage of that? Why are they so concerned about symbolism?” asked Oliver.