Read Coalescence (Camden Investigations Book 1) Online
Authors: Gary Starta
“Come on!” Katy stamped her foot. “Which is it? A second
ago you inferred it was a species? You can’t even keep your lies straight.”
“Ah. No. I was just scared you were going to leave if I
didn’t give you an explanation.”
Jimmy turned on his heels in the direction of a path.
“Text me with your findings, whacko, I’m going to bed.”
Gavin opened his mouth but no words came out. Instead,
there was a buzzing sound.
Katy shrieked and covered her ears.
Gavin shouted. “What? Did you think that was coming from
me?” He winced and shielded his eyes with his hand. The light had grown
exponentially brighter during their discussion. It appeared to loom over them
like some kind of offshoot of the moon, perhaps a child of the moon if a planet
was capable of such a thing.
“Listen!” Gavin shouted and gasped. “It’s communicating!
We just don’t understand its language!”
Katy ran. Her shrieking competed with the buzzing sound
until she was out of sight.
“That’s it, Gavin. There’s only one interpretation of
that kind of language. Get the fuck out of Dodge.”
Jimmy ran after Katy. Gavin felt as if his feet were in
cement. One part of him wanted to chase his friends, to convince them this was
nothing to be afraid of, that it was a scientific discovery. Or, if he had to,
he would falsely interpret the buzzing ball to be nothing more than a hoax. His
heart yearned and burned with a need to keep his friends. On the other hand,
his cemented feet wouldn’t allow him escape from his obsession.
I know you’re real. I know you’re not from here. I just
don’t know what you want.
Gavin couldn’t recall another moment of the encounter. He
had fallen to the ground and passed out, quite possibly from excitement or the
buzzing sound, maybe both.
The next day his head felt fuzzy. He wasn’t certain what
transpired. He didn’t believe the ball of light to be sinister, whatever it
was.
He tried to patch things up with Katy, but she cowered
from him, shielding herself with her books as if he had morphed into some kind
of ugly beast.
Jimmy was a bit more approachable, but it was clear his
friend wouldn’t easily forgive the events of the prior night. “Dude, why don’t
you consider a more plausible explanation; maybe it’s some government
experiment. Did you ever stop to consider that?”
“If so, then it’s quite possible the government acquired
such technology off world, or possibly from an alien crash site.”
Jimmy threw up his hands and walked off.
Gavin stood there flabbergasted for a few minutes,
wondering why another reality gave him the chance to verify his sightings only
to fail. After a moment of consideration, he asked himself the same question.
Had he really failed? Were his friends really the close and trusting kind he
imagined them to be? Or, was the pull of the strange orb too grand a carrot in
the scheme of the universe for Gavin to ignore—even at the expense of a
social life?
D
AN CAMDEN
fumbled with a lighter. He’d promised his wife
he had given up the nasty habit. But in a few hours, dawn would be here and so
would a surgeon’s scalpel or whatever the hell kind of instrument they used to
implant a chip in your brain. He cupped the lighter with both hands, cigarette
in his mouth, praying for a second of placidity.
Who the hell am I kidding?
He let the cigarette roll out of his mouth and onto the
hotel floor. He capped the lighter.
There isn’t going to be a second of
peace.
He realized a surge of nicotine or even the simple inhale of oxygen
wasn’t going to calm anything down or quell what he had set in motion one day
earlier when he signed on the dotted line.
He raced to the hotel window. He jammed a finger in the
shades to open a slit and surveyed the parking lot. He looked to the left and
to the right. He only saw campers and other recreational vehicles, the modes of
transportation chosen by America’s sightseers and not the covert operators of
an underground facility in a desert.
How the fuck did I talk myself into
going there?
He continued staring out the window into the dimly lit parking
lot. There wasn’t a van or black sedan in sight.
Okay, they see me as a man
of my word. Or
. . .
they know I don’t have a fucking chance of escape.
Dan pondered his options pacing the floor of his room. He
flicked a switch on a coffeemaker. It was too bad coffee was his only companion
out here in the middle of nowhere, but it was better than nothing. He resisted
the urge to phone home several times. Twice, he actually lifted the receiver
off its base but placed it back down, wearing a defeated expression that stared
back at him from a vanity mirror. He wished his wife were telepathic. He could
show her what was going on. She might have an answer. She always seemed to. So
what if she had answers to little problems like how to cure the dog from
vomiting or the baby from screaming all night? She might be capable of finding
a way out of this jam. She just might
. . .
He pondered, imagining her smiling in a
wedding day photo. He loved the way she looked in that moment of time. He loved
the way she righted wrongs at any moment’s notice. Was this all about love or
about time? Dan convinced himself to apply for the job, so he could repay her
for her kindness. Would she really be pleased with his choice? He doubted it.
He had never worked up the courage to tell her he was telepathic. Based on her
negative reactions to TV programs that claimed telepathy was real and not the
stuff of fiction books, Dan was certain the revelation of his gift would not
have a positive impact on his family life. He recalled the look on her face
when he feigned to possess the ability. He held a hand to his forehead,
pretending his gift was imaginary like the fiction books and not the anomaly
that caused him discomfort in social circles. She puckered her lips as if she
had bitten into a lemon. “It’s all bullshit to make a buck, Dan. That’s all it
ever was.”
The memory faded. He placed the palms of his hands on his
thighs and inhaled deeply. It calmed him for a second or so, enough time to
realize why he was actually out here. He desired approval. If he had to possess
a strange gift that might alienate him from his family, he might as well use it
to his advantage. He had been certain this firm, or offshoot of the government,
would have embraced his telepathy. He had even heard of a government-funded
Stargate program where remote viewers were placed in rooms to try and imagine
the locations of enemies. So why were they dismissive of his gift? Was it old
hat? Outdated and obsolete because maybe now the powers-that-be could spy on
people’s minds without the need of biological assets?
He might never know the answer. He was certain his wife
wouldn’t approve of him participating in all kinds of other endeavors she would
never give credence to. So, how could he undo this mess? The coffeemaker
beeped, and he jumped off the bed. This was no way to live. There had to be an
out, a loophole. Every contract seemed to have one.
He stared out the window again, and this time, instead of
seeing campers, he was staring into the cold eyes of the odd woman from the Mr.
Jorgenson’s office.
Her eyes held no depth to them. They weren’t even a human
color. She raised a hand and knocked on the window. Dan shook his head, partly
from disbelief, and mostly from fear. There was no way he was going to let this
“thing” into his hotel room.
Dan mumbled, “Just a minute.” He let the curtains close
and hoped the woman couldn’t see through them. It might buy a few seconds of
time. He scouted the room for weapons. He didn’t carry a gun. The knives he ate
the
Cheez Whiz
with were plastic. In desperation, he grabbed a can of
Coke from the mini-fridge and palmed it. He weighed it in his hand for a few
seconds. Would it be heavy enough to take down the artificial bureaucrat? His
answer came in the form of carbonation. A steady stream of fizz spouted from
the top of the can. The removable tab had been compromised.
Had she been in
here, tampering, conspiring?
Dan felt sweat beads pour from his forehead,
and his pajama bottoms were damp as well but not just from soda.
“Fuck it! You got me!” He waved surrendering hands in the
air. “You probably had me from the moment I answered the damned ad!”
Somehow, the curtains were no longer drawn. The
artificial looking woman cocked her head. Her reflection in the glass made her
appear to be two women. Violet eyes bore a hole in him. He felt transfixed to
the floor. Dan was certain she was going to use some mind trick to shatter the
glass and gain entry. Either that or she would teleport in. He balled his fists
and held his arms toward the front of his chest and shook them like an
overtired child. “Come on. Get it over with!”
The rap at the door was answered with a groan. “Come on,
Mr. Camden. Let us in and we’ll
discuss
this matter.” It was a man’s
voice.
Dan was sure his heart had traveled from his chest to his
throat. With deliberation, he unlatched the door lock and unfastened the safety
chain.
“Discuss what? How you’re going to kill me?” Dan stood in
the doorway, vulnerable in nightwear. In black attire, Mr. Jorgenson loomed
before the threshold, his formidable assistant at his side.
A moment of silence ensued, and then Mr. Jorgenson
bellowed. His artificial looking companion cocked her head in response,
doglike. The being’s eyes were no longer violet, but a pale blue, matching the
cornflower shade of the bedspread and carpeting. It was as if she absorbed
things. At least that’s the only conclusion Dan’s panicked mind could fathom.
Was this how he would die? Absorbed by a fake being?
Mr. Jorgenson removed his hat and waved it across his
body. “Please
. . .
”
“Oh, by all means,” Dan responded. “Please come in and
eviscerate me.”
Mr. Jorgenson took a seat on the bed. The being continued
to stand. She carried an attaché underneath one of her arms.
“No, Mr. Camden. No one is going to come to any harm.
I’ve got to be honest. We were evaluating you
. . .
in your privacy.” He held out his
hands. “Now, I know you’ve every right to consider this an intrusion. But from
my standpoint, we may have just saved your life, not to mention your sanity and
family life.”
The being nodded and set the attaché on the room’s dining
table. “Please comply with our wishes.”
Dan cowered, falling onto the bed. “What are you going to
do? What are you
fucking
going to do that is worse than putting a
microchip in my brain?”
The being appeared to smile, her lips curled up at the
edges unnaturally.
Mr. Jorgenson pointed a thumb in her direction. “Ain’t
she something? Comply
. . .
comply
. . .
So official, so bureaucratic
. . .
”
Dan finished his thought. “
. . .
so unnerving.”
Mr. Jorgenson patted Dan on the thigh. “You wanted a way
out. We’ll give you that
. . .
for a price.” The being handed Mr. Jorgenson a
stapled set of forms.
“Just sign and we’ll be done with it.” Dan peered into
Jorgenson’s face, and in response the man appeared to smile.
Okay, now I’ve done it. I should have just joined. Let
them chip me.
“I heard that,” the being answered. “It is why you must
be terminated.”
Mr. Jorgenson interrupted. “She means severed. Uh
. . .
no, that’s not the right word
either. I
. . .
we mean
. . .
excused.”
“But I never was hired.” Dan balled a fistful of
comforter in his hand.
“You can’t disclose anything we’ve talked about. And with
your ability, that’s going to be a mighty hard promise to keep. So instead of
promises, we’re going to make it easy.”
The being removed a syringe and bottle from her front
jacket pocket.
Dan’s eyes fluttered.
You’re going to put me down.
He fumbled with the pen Mr. Jorgenson had handed him.
“Sign here
. . .
and here
. . .
”
Dan complied. Jorgenson continued to speak, perhaps the
way a predator might hypnotize its prey with distractions. “Are you familiar
with short term memory loss?”
The being was now within arm’s reach. She rolled up the
sleeve on his right arm. “Make a fist.”
This doesn’t sound like murder. They don’t tell you to
make a fist when they kill you.
The being nodded in his direction and answered his
rhetorical question. “No, they don’t. Whoever ‘they’ are
. . .
”
Dan felt the prick of the needle before the room went
dark.
Morning light awakened him. He was fully dressed and in
his vehicle. How he got there he did not know. The only thing Dan Camden did
know for certain was that he must map a route back to Colorado and his new
family.