The soft thud of footsteps comes up behind me. The last person I expected to bring condolences—or support—is Mike. Big, goofy way-too-happy-for-this-shit Mike.
He places a hand on my back, letting it rest there without a word.
“This can’t be real,” I say over my shoulder.
“It shouldn’t be, but it looks like it is,” he says. “I mean, can we all experience the same weird delusion at the same time?”
Really not likely.
Spinning around, I leave Mike’s side, walking up to Gabe and standing right in his space.
“What’s the deal? How are you doing this?” I spit.
His cool blue eyes don’t even hold an ounce of surprise for any of the crazy shit going down. Instead, he has the audacity to look sympathetic as he towers over me.
I ball my hands into fists, wishing there was something I could punch—something I could break.
“Have you ever heard of an extinction burst, Thea?” Gabe asks, turning away and walking over to one of the benches. He takes a seat and pats the space beside him.
“Of course. What’s that got to do with…” I begin, following him, but refusing to have a seat.
“The human personality—ego, or whatever you’d like to call it—goes through its own extinction bursts. When faced with information that seems to conflict with its code, or its understanding, as it were, its immediate reaction is fight or flight. Your personality is hardwired to do both. And yet, in the end, as with any extinction burst—it will die out and a new understanding will emerge,” Gabe says, peering around the room.
I’m not the only one he’s talking to, even if it is aimed at me.
My background and curiosity kick in, and I can’t help myself.
“So you’re trying to say our egos are a, what, facade?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
Everything this guy is saying goes against everything I’ve been taught as a psychiatrist, and it’s killing me not to tell him where to shove it. And I totally would have—had I not just experienced…whatever that was.
“In a sense, yes. The deeper, more innate you, call it your higher self, is the observer of this world and all the egoic goings-on. All over the world, special beings such as you have been placed within the confines of humanity to be the balance keepers between light and dark. We arise only when necessary—when the darkness demands it. Otherwise, we are not here to intervene. We’re simply here to experience the variance of life.”
“Well, you’re doing a bang-up job,” I spit, fury uncoiling in my stomach. “The planet is going to shit. At what point do you do something?”
He raises both eyebrows knowingly and slowly raises both hands to the ceiling.
“So you wait until you’re on the brink of self-destruction before—”
“Has it been easy to awaken you? To reignite the memories buried within you? Or has humanity clouded your perception to a degree of difficulty?” he asks, placing his hands over his knees.
I take the previously offered seat beside him.
Dammit.
“I didn’t have someone explain this to me—not at first. I awoke, to some degree, a long time ago. Though I wasn’t aware of what it meant. I sat in waiting, knowing I was meant for more—this world was meant for more—but not knowing how to enact the change I felt stirring. It wasn’t until Morgan…” he gestures toward her. She’s sitting beside Braham, consoling him the way Gabe had been earlier. “She has been chosen to be the voice of the universe, to bring sense to what appears nonsensical. She brought light to my mind and clarity to the pathway ahead. It was Morgan who saw me for what I truly was and helped me to walk this pathway, even through the darkness.”
My head is a swirling cyclone of cynical retorts mixed with what-ifs. As much as I want to tell him he’s full of shit and needs to be on medication, his words, or something in them, ring true deep within me and it makes me slightly uncomfortable.
I’ve walked this world in a state of complete and utter disbelief every single day as I treat people for their mental disorders. I cannot fathom how we—humans—rose to the top of the food chain. Well, other than thanking our complete and utter disregard for the rest of life on the planet. Brute force, I suppose.
“So you’re telling us there’s something to all this religious stuff?” I say, trying to wrap my brain around the nonsense. “There are literally thousands of religions all over the world, each of them vying for more importance. There are thousands who believe in the old gods and goddesses, despite zilch in proof. How can—”
Gabe’s eyes again turn sympathetic. “Do me a favor—imagine a diamond.”
“Ooookay,” I mutter, chewing on the side of my cheek.
“Can you envision all of the different facets of it? The parts that refract light and shine brilliantly in various arrays of colors, both seen and unseen?”
“Sure, but I don’t—”
“If you were to look at each facet, light would shine differently. Perhaps the clarity would be different, but each would still resemble the diamond as a whole, even if you could not see it in its entirety.”
“Uh-huh,” I sputter, trying desperately not to roll my eyes.
“Consider each religion to be one of those facets. Each holds pieces of the truth, letting light shine in their own way. Each resonating within the total will of universal truth—but none alone being the bigger whole,” he says. “Yet the whole, the diamond, is still the bigger picture. Still the main encompassing aspect that ties each together.”
I lean back in my seat, and my breath escapes in a low burst.
Something in the metaphor clicks in my brain, and as much as I hate to admit it, there is a ring of truth to it, too.
“This is all a lot to take in, and it will begin to make sense, trust me,” he continues. “But we still have two others we need to locate. It’s getting late. We’ll need to find the next one soon, but we need to gather our strength first and make a plan for tomorrow. There will be one left we need to locate, but before we do that, we’ll all need to get some rest,” Morgan says.
“How on earth are we going to locate anyone out in that?” I say, pointing back toward the door.
Gabe smiles, placing a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll learn soon enough, we can walk between the constructs to varying degrees.”
“Well, that’s reassuring,” I say, lowering my eyebrows.
Morgan stands up, “We’ve done as much work as we can with you right now, Thea. Not everything can be assimilated all at once, and you’re the type of—well, you’ll need to see things for yourself before you believe anything we say. So things won’t make sense for you until you experience them. In the meantime, my mission is clear: I have to find the rest of you and bring you all together.”
“Bring us together? Why?” I ask. “Are you like, our shepherd or something?”
Morgan’s eyes flit to Gabe and then back to me. “Something like that. I never quite thought of it that way, though.”
Despite trying to hold it back, I roll my eyes.
“I honestly don’t know what will happen when all five of you are finally together. You’re the last of my charges,” she says.
“So, you’ve been doing this for a while? When you saw us at the freeway, did you already know who we were?” I ask, suddenly irritated.
Morgan presses her lips together, tipping her head.
“Ah, so it was no coincidence your car was still conveniently there. It’s all starting to make sense now.” I mutter.
“For the record, we didn’t know how we’d find you. We just knew it was time,” Gabe says.
“Just like we know it’s time to find the next. We’d like you to come with us. All of you,” Morgan says, glancing at each one of us in turn.
“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” I say, slumping in my seat.
I’ve dealt with enough crazy to last me a lifetime, and that’s not even including today.
But now… this has to be some sort of a sick joke. How can any of
this be real? Maybe I’m dead. I mean, maybe Braham’s wife really killed me with her door and I just think I’m still alive. Or maybe Morgan’s drugged us with something she and Gabe are pumping into the air in this place. It’s got a thick, potent scent, that’s for sure.
“I’m in,” Mike says, nodding to himself like the big goon he is. He stands up, reaching out for Braham’s hand in a silent question.
“Yeah, okay. Me, too. I—anything’s better than staying here and trying to make sense of things alone,” Braham says, taking Mike’s offering.
I snicker. Guys are so gullible.
Flopping onto my back, I cross my arms and close my eyes. The wood on the bench is terrible and stiff, but once everyone’s left, I’ll be free to do some exploring. Maybe figure out what the Hades is really going on here. If there’s anything I’m good at, it’s sniffing out bullshit.
“Thea, you know you’re more than welcome to come with us. It might help you to see things from our perspective or at least give you a different way to view your reality.”
I yawn loudly. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks, though. I think I’ll just stay here and get some rest.”
“Suit yourself,” Gabe says, turning to the tiny woman in command. “It’s okay, Morgan. Thea will come around.”
Internally, I snicker to myself.
Don’t hold your breath, buddy.
The four of them shuffle around wordlessly. With my eyes closed, I can almost make sense of what they’re doing—but I’m also kinda glad to tune them all out.
This has been a day of utter weirdness, and the sooner I can put it all behind me, the better.
Without another word to me, the door to the freaky abyss opens and closes. There are no gasps this time around, no surprised comments of, “How the heck do we do this?” Or “Whoa, forgot the door opened to an endless abyss of starstuff.” Popping an eye open, I sit up, but only to catch the door as it closes—not catching even a small glimpse of how it looks on the outside.
“Good riddance,” I say aloud as the door latches.
Unraveling myself from the worship bench, I stand up.
“Alright, Thea, where to go first?” I say, rubbing my hands together.
Do I check the door to see if I can finally make a run for it? Or do I do a little bit of digging in this makeshift, run-down sanctuary to get to the bottom of who these creeps are? Maybe I could even try to shut them down and save a few other people from this completely upside-down world they’re living in.
Walking from the main sanctuary to the side room along the hall, I take in the sea of books, herbs, and various religious-looking artifacts. Some make sense—they’re the typical Greek and Roman statues—but others make no sense to me. Much like the odd paintings in the sanctum, they depict a man pinned to a cross.
A shiver runs down my spine.
It looks like some brutal ritualistic sacrifice. Who would keep something like that?
Shaking away the thought, I continue into the room, flipping through stacks of papers, notes, and maps. A brand-new map, or what looks like one, rests in the middle of the room on a large, square table. The location where the three of us were found—recovered, whatever—is circled in bold, red ink, alongside the time of 12:02 p.m.
I narrow my eyes.
Did she know the exact time everything went down before it happened?
I remember checking my watch the moment the explosion rocked the interstate. It’s an occupational hazard.
What is Morgan playing at?
Biting my lower lip, I set it aside and continue perusing the items scattered along the table. Mostly it’s papers and scribbling that don’t make any sense to me without context. I walk along the bookshelves, hundreds of books on various religions, mythologies, and histories litter the shelves. I pull one out, trying to make sense of its title: Christianity Through the Ages.
Quirking my head to the side, I flip through a few of the pages to try to get a better idea what it’s about. The same imagery of a man hung on a cross fills numerous pages.
Walking to the table with it, I take a seat, reading a passage about someone named Jesus and his sacrifice for humanity.
Narrowing my gaze, my mind whirls. I studied comparative religion in college, but I’ve never—not once—heard of Christianity.
I continue to read for a while, absorbing some of the information until the stories become so far-fetched that I realize I must be reading fiction.
No wonder I’ve never heard of it.
Tossing the book aside, I make my way to a small nook with an old, corded phone still attached to the wall. Tapping its brown receiver, my eyes flit through the items strewn about the small shelf directly below the phone.
Notes are scribbled on sticky pad pages and tacked across the shelf. On top of them all is a business card for Inner Sanctum Books & Gifts in Helena. Flipping it over, it says, DIANA HAWTHORNE - OWNER. Drawing my eyebrows in, I purse my lips and lift the receiver off the hook.
“Maybe I should give this woman a call and pick her brain a bit,” I whisper to myself.
I have no clue if phones are even working in this trippy netherworld—or if the woman will even be alive after all we’ve seen and been through. But I have to try. She might be my last hope at figuring out what in the blue blazes I’ve gotten myself rolled up with.
Punching in the number on the keypad, a weird nervous energy rumbles through me.
What if I don’t like what I’m about to hear?
I strum my fingers across the desk, waiting for someone to pick up. After the fifth ring, the familiar crackle of the other end clicking on invades my ear.
“Hello?” a woman says, answering the other line.
Relief and trepidation swirl inside me. Not everyone on the planet has vanished.
Clearing my throat, I put on my best professional voice. “Hello, is this Diana Hawthorne?”
There’s a slight pause, but she responds, “Yes.”
Taking a deep breath, I say, “My name is Dr. Richards. I was wondering if you could enlighten me a bit. Do you happen to know someone by the name of Morgan? I—I’m not certain of her last name.”
Skepticism creeps into her tone as Diana responds. “Perhaps I do, Dr. Richards. What’s this about?”
“I have a few questions for you, if you wouldn’t mind. I recently came in contact with her and her partner, Gabe, but she seems to be exhibiting signs of instability. She believes she’s meant to be finding some—I don’t quite know how to describe her delusions—find some extraordinary people meant to have significance to the planet,” I say. “I’m concerned that she may end up hurting herself or others if she’s left untreated.”
“Uh-huh,” Diana says, sarcasm dripping from the two syllables. “I don’t know what to tell you, Thea, except Morgan is the real deal. There’s something special about that woman, and you should be trusting her and not trying to sneak around behind her back.”
The admonishment puts me on notice, and I shift to my other foot.
I’m pretty sure I didn’t give her my first name.
“I don’t believe I’m following you,” I respond.
“Oh, I believe you do,” she replies. My insides flip, and I clutch the phone closer to my ear. “Look, Morgan put me back on my path and helped me in a way I can’t even express—I can never repay her and Gabe. If you’ve been mixed up in her circle, you should consider yourself one of the lucky ones,” Diana says, softening her tone a bit.
“Hmmm…” I say absently.
“I know you’re one of them—her lightworkers, for lack of a better word. I feel the energy radiating off you in waves, even over the phone. Stop fighting whatever it is you’re fighting and roll with it. Something major’s going on, and from what I gather, we can use all the lightworkers we can get.”
My stomach clenches with the word. Lightworkers.
“What is it you believe is going on?” I ask, biting down on my lip.
Diana sighs. “I’ve been around a long time. A
nd in that time, I’ve seen a good many things. Things that are embedded in my mind. What I can tell you right now is something has veered reality off course. We’re bleeding light, and darkness is impeding its return. If you’ve been called by Morgan, your job is much bigger than you can even imagine.”
“You sound as unstable as she is,” I mutter.
“And perhaps I am. But at least I’m honest with myself. Good luck, Thea. I hope you find your way and embrace whatever it is you’re meant to step up for. Because it’s damn important.”
With that, Diana is gone.
5
Morgan
After all of the angels I’ve come across, I’ve never come up against one who is so adamantly closed off as Thea. I wish there was another way to reach her—to break her resolve so she can step into her power—but it’s clear she has to do that all on her own.
“Do you think it’s wise leaving her behind like that?” Mike asks, rubbing his hand over the tufts of hair on the top of his head.
“Thea will learn very quickly that without the proper mind-set—she won’t be able to get far,” Gabe says, getting into the passenger seat.
“How is it we’re able to leave? Or be back in this vehicle? I’m so confused,” Braham says, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“As your consciousness opens up, things will start to make more sense. Right now, you’re still viewing the world through the lens of human eyes and perception,” Gabe says, twisting around. “It’s why we chose this path—the car, the city, the streets. Well, that and the fact that we have Morgan here with us.”
“Shouldn’t we be viewing the world as humans?” Mike says, a look of shock strewn across his features.
“Well, not exactly,” Gabe says.
Mike shoots his eyebrows upward. “We’re not human?”
I shake my head. “No—not entirely, anyway.”
“Maybe Thea’s right. Maybe you’ve all tipped off your rockers,” Braham says, his right eye twitching.
The Chronicles of the 8th Dimension - Limited Edition Box Set (4 Books): A Supernatural Thriller Box Set Page 31