Day 50 (The DMT Series Book 2)
DAY 50
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Copyright 2015 © Erik Hamre
All rights reserved.
Edited by Mike Waitz.
This book is fiction. Characters, corporations, institutions and organizations in this novel are the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, are used fictionally without any intent to describe their actual conduct.
PROLOGUE
A fly circled the neck of Dr Martin Drecker’s Corona. It made a strange buzzing sound before settling on a dry spot on the rim of the bottleneck. Dr Drecker made a wave motion with his left hand, and the resulting airflow forced the fly to take to its wings and abandon its temporary sanctuary.
A soft thump broke the eerie silence when Cody smashed the fly into the bar counter with the palm of his right hand. The bartender stared at the pale young man with the black bandage covering his eyes. He wasn’t sure whether he should be impressed by the way the young man had just squashed the fly, or ask what his trick was. The young man was blind. How the hell had he been able to know where the fly was?
Dr Drecker threw a few dollar bills on the counter and grabbed Cody’s arm. “I told you not to attract attention,” he whispered sternly, before pulling Cody off the barstool.
Dr Drecker could feel the eyes of the other bar patrons digging into his back as he led Cody out of the bar. As he opened the door, a heatwave struck him in the face. Outside the sun was raging a war with the environment, and it was winning. It felt like it was two hundred degrees. Celsius.
“I hadn’t finished my beer,” Cody whimpered.
“Then you shouldn’t have done what you just did,” Dr Drecker replied.
“The fly thing?”
“It’s silly things like that we’ll have to avoid. We need to stay under the radar, Cody. Every time you show off, you attract unnecessary attention.”
Cody didn’t reply. He couldn’t be bothered anymore. He would just let his dad lead him all the way back to the dump of a motel they were staying at.
Then he would continue to mope.
Moping felt good these days.
“We’ll have to check out straightaway,” Dr Drecker said as he dragged his son across the street. He had made his choice, and now he had to stick to the decision. He had stood there with a loaded gun, the gun Adam Mullins had acquired for him when they had arrived in Mexico just over two weeks ago.
And he had hesitated.
For a second he had hesitated.
Two weeks ago.
It seemed like an eternity.
And it was. They were already running low on cash, and Dr Drecker didn’t know how they were going to be able to remain hidden. Cody was just too unreliable, too unpredictable. Who knew what he was going to do next? Drecker wondered whether he had made the wrong choice when he had stood there with his loaded gun a few weeks back. He had considered the alternative. Considered the possibility that the CIA agent had been correct - that Cody was some sort of antichrist that could pose a threat to humanity. That Dr Drecker would be doing the world a favour by pulling the trigger.
He couldn’t, of course. If the whole DMT experience had taught Drecker one single thing, it was that life wasn’t worth living without his son. In the end Drecker didn’t care if he put the whole world at risk.
Nothing mattered but Cody.
Cody was worth it.
He had to admit, however, that he had entertained the thought. He had been watching the TV screen. All the elements in the death row patients’ prophecies seemed to have come to fruition.
The army of undead rising from the depths of hell. Millions of souls ascending into the sky.
Hell, everything matched up with the prophecy.
Dr Drecker shook his head in frustration. It had to be coincidences.
The date of Venus’ second passing of the sun.
The sixth of June. 6-6.
If Cody had resurrected at six o’clock there would have been three sixes - The number of the beast.
Antichrist.
But Cody hadn’t resurrected at six o’clock. He had resurrected at 9:34. Exactly the same time he had died forty-nine days earlier.
Cody wasn’t the antichrist. Cody wasn’t some alien from a different solar system that would unleash hell on our world. He was just Cody: An ordinary twenty-five-year-old kid - Dr Drecker’s only son.
Cody had never reacted to the DMT injection like the others had, either. Yes, he had died and resurrected after three days, and yes, he had died and resurrected again forty-six days later. He had never acquired the ability to self-heal, however. And when the floor of his prison cell had caved in, a large piece of glass had struck him in the face. It had cut out his eyes and left terrible scarring. That was now more than two weeks ago. Cody had neither regained his vision nor his eyes, and the wounds across his face had barely started to heal. They were covered with pus.
Cody was definitely human.
Cody was as human as Dr Drecker.
There was no question about it.
The only thing that still scared Dr Drecker was that Cody didn’t seem to have the need for eyes anymore. He just seemed to intuitively know where everything in a room was, as if he could see without eyes.
“What’s your plan, dad? We can’t keep running forever you know,” Cody said.
Dr Drecker knew Cody was right. Hiding out in the lawless back yards of Mexico wasn’t a sustainable long-term plan. Especially not without a lot of cash. Dr Drecker had done the figures the previous night. Even if they minimized their spending; slept at cheap motels and ate local food, they would run out of cash in less than three months. And then what? Where were they supposed to go then?
“Don’t worry. I’ll think of something, Cody. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” Dr Drecker stole a glance at his son after having delivered the assurance. It was a good thing that Cody had lost his eyes. At least he couldn’t see Dr Drecker’s face. See the obvious lie smeared over his entire face. Cody didn’t seem to care much though. He didn’t seem to be fazed by anything or anyone these days. The useless boy who had been scared of everything when he grew up seemed to have acquired a new-found self-confidence. He seemed to have become fearless. “I know, dad,” Cody answered, letting go of Dr Drecker’s hand.
PART 1
1
Two years later
Mexico,
April 2014
The wind was picking up, and the sail on ‘
Mimi’
, Adam’s forty-two-foot single hull sailboat, was flapping wildly in the wind. “You need to give it some more slack,” Adam hollered to Cameron, who was working the sail. Cameron shot her dad an angry look in response to the comment. She had just turned eighteen, and the plan had been to celebrate her birthday at a nice restaurant in Belize. Instead they had been hiding out on a deserted island for the last six weeks. And now they were still stuck out at sea, on the very morning of her birthday. Not exactly the eighteenth birthday party she had been looking forward to. She put her head down and resumed her work with the ropes. Reluctantly she gave the sail some more slack, and to her annoyance it seemed to work.
She collected the spanner and walked to the front of the boat. “I can see a bird,” she yelled out.
Adam picked up his yellow binoculars and pressed them against his tired eyes. She was right. There was a bird in the sky a few hundred meters ahead. Probably a strayer, a bird that had broken out of formation and headed too far out to sea. Adam hoped she would land on the mast, let them take her back to shore, but she just kept on going. Flying out into the large nothingness.
Adam checked the compass. A bird in the sky meant that they were getting close to land. All the equipment on board was broken. The boat had not long ago taken a direct hit from a lightning strike that fried most of their electronic gear. They had been sailing blind for days. But Adam knew roughly where they were. If he was correct, then Belize was straight ahead. They had made it. They would be eating steak in a few hours. Adam looked forward to a nice juicy steak. They had been eating fish for two months straight now, and his body was craving some fatty foods. “Wake up Nina. Tell her that we’ll be on solid land in a couple of hours.”
“Will do,” Cameron replied, before running across the deck. She skipped the stairs and jumped down into the cabin. She was excited to deliver the good news.
Adam smiled. Cameron had turned eighteen that very morning. Eighteen years old. It was amazing how quickly time flew. Now he was looking forward to taking his daughter out for a nice meal for once. To having a proper birthday party for the first time since she was nine. Last year there hadn’t been any opportunity to celebrate. They had been staying on this tiny island with under two thousand inhabitants. One night Adam had overheard some rumours in the local bar. Some unknown men had been asking strange questions, asking if anyone had seen a couple travelling with a teenage girl. Adam hadn’t taken any chances. They had left that very night. Sailed off into the big blue again. Tomorrow though. Tomorrow they would celebrate Cameron’s first birthday together as a family.
Together as a family.
Adam had barely finished his thought before a flood of emotions weakened his knees. Cameron’s birthday. It would also be the date his wife had died. The day Cameron had lost her mum in an airplane accident. How could he make that a celebration? How could he ask his daughter to celebrate the day her mum had died?
“You are thinking about mom, aren’t you?” Cameron asked. She was standing in the entrance of the sleeping cabin. Her hair wild from all the salt water.
Adam nodded. “I’m sorry, I was… I didn’t….”
Cameron walked over and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I know. I forgot too.”
“So, what do we do now? Do we celebrate? Or do you want to do something different?” Adam asked as he let go of his daughter’s hug.
“You know how mom was. We celebrate. That’s what she would have wanted.” Adam didn’t have time to object as Cameron just turned up the volume on the CD player. The tones of Shakira fought an all-out war with the noise of the ocean. Based on Cameron’s dancing it was quite clear that she had decided that Shakira was going to be the winner.
Five hours later Adam, Nina and Cameron stood outside a restaurant that served ‘the best beef in Mexico.’ At least that was what the sign on the door claimed. Adam doubted it was true of course, but he would be happy to eat a Mexican donkey, that’s how hungry he was. “Lead the way, birthday girl,” he said as he gallantly extended his arm out in front of Cameron, who had dressed up in a white dress for the occasion. She looked stunning. Almost as beautiful as Nina.
Adam and Nina had become an item after barely a month together on the boat. Cameron had strongly encouraged it. It seemed like she desperately wanted her father to be happy again. And who could blame her? Adam had after all spent seven years searching for his wife and daughter, denying himself even an ounce of happiness in that period.
