Brain Storm (A Taylor Morrison Novel Book 1) (30 page)

I can honestly say, I’ve never seen so many wheat fields. Or windmills. Kansas is nothing if not flat and windy. It was a relief when, in the late afternoon of the second day of driving, the Rocky Mountains came into sight. At first I thought they were low lying clouds on the horizon, but as we closed the distance to Denver, the clouds rose higher and gained definition. The green of the front range separated from the snow capped peaks behind, as the sun began to set in the west. It was an amazing sight for me, not having seen them before. At least not like this, having crossed hundreds of miles of prairie land to have this mammoth range rising abruptly before me. My mind couldn’t help but think back to the covered wagons and the people who had come before me. They saw it, I was sure, just as I had. As clouds in the distance. How did they feel, when they realized the size and grandeur of what was before them, knowing what they were seeking was on the other side?
 

Probably a lot like what I was feeling now. What I was seeking lay in the mountains that now loomed just beyond the city of Denver. The foothills appeared dark and ominous, hidden in the shadow of the high peaks, which sparkled silver, as the sun sank behind them. The sky above was a rainbow of colors, the few clouds there, reflecting the dying rays of light as the blue sky above melted into deep hues of purple to the east.
 

As the last bit of light faded from the sky, darkness fell and with it came an overwhelming sense of fear and pain. Mac, sensing the change, jerked his attention from the road to me in concern. Nearly suffocating in panic, I waved to him to get off the road.

The car was still rolling when I threw open the door and flung myself out, raking in deep breaths of air, trying to stand on what were decidedly shaking legs. I watched in silence as Bryan roared by, tapping the brakes but unable to stop.
 

“He’ll get off at the next exit and wait for us,” Mac called out as he rounded the back end of the car. “What’s wrong? What’s the matter?”

I gave up the fight to stand and leaned against the car, giving my knees extra support as my stomach began to roll. Doubling over, I felt sweat break out on my scalp and begin to trickle its way down.
 

“Sam! What’s happening?” Mac demanded, as he grabbed my arms, trying to steady me and I needed it. Lights began exploding on the edge of my vision, the center filling with black clouds and I knew I was going down.

It stopped almost as fast as it started. One minute I was on the verge of passing out and the next it was over. Not just the pain, but the fear and the panic. I was still shaky and had the feeling I would be for some time, but the rest was mercifully gone. Exhausted, I slid down the side of the car to sit on the hard pavement of the shoulder. Mac slid down next to me, and I noticed he was pretty shaky himself.

“Did you feel that?” I finally managed to ask.
 

“Yes. No. I mean, I felt something, but not what you were feeling.” He was as out of breath as I was, his words coming out in gasps. I sat for a minute longer, waiting for my stomach to settle and my heart beat to stop pounding in my ears. When I started feeling the pebbles under my rear end, I figured I’d recovered enough to stand up. It was slow going, as getting upright seemed to impart a bit of vertigo, making my stomach do flip flops again, but eventually, things calmed down and came back to center.

Taking one more deep breath, I stood up straight and looked over at mountains, which now in the twilight, stood out as dark shadows against the darkening sky. We had swung north by the Denver airport, cutting off the trip through downtown and were on the outskirts of the main city on our way to Loveland.
 

“How do you know?” I asked, watching as the cars sped by us on I-85. “How do you know it wasn’t what I was feeling?”

He didn’t answer for a moment and I turned to find him standing with his eyes closed, lips pressed together in a grim line.
 

“You were terrified. I could see it in your eyes,” he finally said, opening his eyes to meet mine, “but all I felt from you was waves of confusion, and panic. And then anger.”

“Well, you got the terrified part right, but of what?” I took a deep breath, unable to understand what had happened. “I don’t know about the anger. I don’t remember getting angry, but I could be wrong. It all hit so fast.”

My legs were feeling steadier by the minute and my heart rate had slowed back to a normal rate, or what felt like one compared to what it had been.
 

“Trust me, Sam. It was anger. I’ve been around you enough to know, and you were about as angry as I’ve ever seen you. Then you just popped like a balloon and it was gone.” He was walking around in the narrow space on the shoulder, shaking his legs out as he went.
 

“Yeah, it’s gone. For now, at least,” I agreed, opening my door, wondering what on earth was going on and worse yet, if it had something to do with what was waiting for us. I hated this. Hated not knowing, hated loosing control. Hated the whole situation.
Roll with it.
Accept it. This is reality now.
I repeated the words in my head like a mantra, knowing if I didn’t come to terms with it, I’d lose my mind. Or possibly get somebody killed. What had I told them?
I was going to embrace the weirdness.
Well, it didn’t get much weirder than what had just happened. Embracing it was proving to be the hard part.

WE CAUGHT UP with Bryan and the others at the next exit, just as Mac had predicted. Bryan gave us a look but kept his questions to himself. After a brief confab we decided to grab some dinner and spend the night in Longmont. After what had just happened, I needed a little time to pull myself together before we scouted out the Agency and saw the lay of the land. It was after midnight, when the knock sounded on my door. I was still awake, too restless to relax. I flung open the door to find Mac standing there, his arms full of pillows, dragging sheets and blankets behind him.
 

“Mind if I sleep on the floor?” he asked.
 

I was about to make some flippant remark, when I turned and looked at the big bed behind me, still made up, and the vacant floor space at the end of it. Flashes of earlier in the evening went through my head. How bad would that have been if Mac hadn’t been there to help me?

I looked back at him, standing in the hallway, and opened the door further, stepping back to allow him access. He walked past me, threw his stuff down, tucked his gun away under the bed and wordlessly started building his nest on the floor.
 

Softly closing the door, I padded back into the room and watched him arrange the blankets. How had it come to this? The day had started out so well and now I had a babysitter and was actually thankful for it. Disgusted, I crawled into bed, still dressed and pulled the covers over my head. With Mac settled on the floor by my feet, I could finally face what had happened, what I had been avoiding all evening. Mac had only been partially right earlier when he said I had been terrified. He’d seen terror in my face all right, but it wasn’t mine. I had nothing to be terrified of, but someone else did and I had felt it. Felt their terror and fear pour through me in a suffocating wave of emotion. I had no idea what had happened, but I knew somewhere out there in the darkness something horrible had happened. Mac said he hadn’t felt it, he’d only picked up on my emotions. I had picked up on someone else’s. The very thought had me shivering beneath the blankets. I didn’t want this. Not this. Feeling what someone else is feeling? I had thought it was bad before, but I had no idea. How had Mac kept from loosing his mind when mine kept forcing it’s way in? Even now, I knew he was there, laying on the floor, feeling the despair that was consuming me. Someone was in trouble, I knew it, and could do nothing to help them. I couldn’t even help myself. Tears stung my eyes at the realization. What if this was just the beginning? What more was to come?
Dear God,
I silently begged,
Help me. Help us all
.

WHEN I WOKE in the morning, Mac was gone, as was all evidence of his spending the night on the floor. I felt like I’d been in an all night wrestling match and in many ways I had been. I didn’t have any more answers this morning than I’d had the night before, but I’d managed to come to terms with things. What choice did I have really. It had taken hours to come to that conclusion and Mac had been there to help, absorbing emotion when I had been close to being overwhelmed. I could actually feel it now, when it happened, like an easing somehow, a lightening of a burden. Is that what I had done last night? Lightened the pain for someone else? The thought that I had, helped me more than than anything else. The idea that there was a purpose, that I could use what I had for good, to help others, made it easier to accept.
 

I drug my legs over the edge of the bed. I had prayed for help last night and now I threw a special thanks up to heaven. I might not have the answer, but maybe I had found a way to live with what had happened.

By the time I had showered and dressed, I was mentally ready to get to work. Now, more than ever, I needed to find Caleb Brown. Needed to learn how to control and use what I was.

I grabbed my bag and threw open the door only to find Mac on the other side, grinning like an idiot, relief written on his face. Last night must have been worse than I’d thought.
 

“Let’s go!” he said, as he snatched the bag from my hand and headed down the hall to the elevator. “We have work to do.”
 

Yes, I thought, as I fell in behind him. We most certainly do.

TWENTY-EIGHT

“WELL, DID YOU see him?”
 

Candice was waiting at the door for us and I could hear the anxiety in her voice. We’d left her and Mama D at a motel/campground outside of Estes Park, while Mac, Bryan and I went to scope out the Agency and attempt to verify if Matthew Hughes was still on site.
 

We’d been lucky finding the campground. Set back from the road, it provided hook-ups for campers and RV’s, along with small log cabin units scattered along the river.

Mac and I were in a cabin, with Bryan, Mama D and Candice staying in the RV. It was close quarters, but no one was complaining. We were all a little jumpy, and I know I felt better knowing that there was someone handy with a gun at each location. Checking my watch, I couldn’t blame Candice for being nervous. We’d been gone a little over four hours and the shadows were starting to grow long.
 

“Yes, he’s still there,” I answered her, throwing my pack onto the floor. “He looks like Barney Fife in Lederhosen.”
 

“You’re kidding?” she laughed, relief evident on her face. It was hard to be afraid of Don Knotts, especially in shorts.
 

“Who’s Barney Fife?”
 

I snorted in amusement at Mac, as I unrolled the map that had been lying on the table. We had stopped that morning at a mountaineering store and picked up maps of the area, backpacks, binoculars and scopes, along with what seemed like a trillion other things that Mac and Bryan had determined were absolutely essential. That was one of the great things about Colorado. You could pick up all sorts of stuff for spying and no one thought a thing about it. It was the Rockies after all. God’s country. Of course, you’re going to want to see it close up and personal. Mac and Bryan had enjoyed themselves immensely, taking what I thought bordered on the realm of
forever
arguing over the merits of this scope over that one. By the time we finally left, I was about ready to shoot myself, but Candice just opened the door for the guys, clutching her new leather purse, smiling and nodding as they loaded their loot into the car. I assumed some sort of strange kinship between shoppers. I’d never understand it.

Shaking my head, I was intent on the map which insisted on rolling itself up every time I took my hands off it. Frustrated with it, I finally glanced up to see he was serious about the Barney Fife thing.

“What? You’re seriously telling me you’ve never seen the show? You know, Andy, Opie and Aunt Bee?” I was incredulous. It may have been way before my time or his, but I thought everyone had seen the reruns on television. At the shake of his head, I went back attempting to flatten the map out as I explained.“Barney was the bumbling, goofy deputy in the town, played by Don Knotts, the original nerd. Hughes is a dead ringer for him.”

“Well, he may look like him and nerd he may be, but Hughes is anything but bumbling and goofy.”

“Consider me warned.” I looked up to find Bryan and Mac watching me struggle with the map, indulgent looks on their faces. “What?” I snapped out, completely irritated by this point with the map and getting no help whatsoever from the onlookers.

“There’s a bag in there with weights for holding down the map.” Mac pointed to a sack sitting on the floor next to the tube the map had some in.

Disgusted, I let the map roll up and flop off the table. What was wrong with these people in Colorado? Maps came in a book. Flat and labeled, not rolled up in a tube. It was a little disconcerting to find myself so totally out of my element and didn’t appreciate being a source of amusement.
 

“Is there coffee ready?” I asked, turning away to the little kitchen in search of a mug. They could roll out the map themselves.

“Of course, there’s coffee, honey.” Mama D bustled over and was now pouring me a cup like I was an invalid. I ignored the snorts of laughter behind me, and thanked her. Candice caught my eye and threw me a wink. She apparently thought I mishandled the map on purpose. Fine by me. I wasn’t about to tell her otherwise. Sad as it was to admit, the guys needed this. Needed confirmation of the fact that they weren’t just along for the ride. That there were some things they knew that I didn’t, even if it was something as trivial as un-rolling a map. I could tell them a million times, but there was nothing like seeing it in person to convince a man he was needed. I was immensely grateful to have Bryan and Mac along, even if they were the occasional pain the in rear.