The Hallucigenia Project

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The Hallucigenia Project Page 26

by Darren Kasenkow


  John looked across the table and realized that if he was going to be jumping on a plane back home, the least he could do was finish his surreal tour of Miami with an hour or so in the company of a beautiful, smart doctor. All things considered he couldn’t see anything crazy coming from a simple lunch.

  “I don’t know that there’s much chance of convincing me but sure, we can sneak in a lunch.”

  “I’ll get myself sorted then,” Candice said as she carefully lowered Bobbie to the floor, stepped away from the table and exited the hotel room leaving behind a subtle but sweet aroma of apples and oranges.

  As soon as the door closed behind her John jumped to his feet and rummaged through the half packed suitcase resting by the end of the bed until he found a shirt he felt adequate, and then stepped into the bathroom to straighten himself up. As he washed his face and used his hands to attempt to flatten out the creases he wondered what it was about the unexpected visitor that had his stomach rushing with blood. She was beautiful no doubt, and the circumstances of their meeting of course ensured a level of mystery to add to the equation. The fact that she obviously had a soft spot for cats wasn’t exactly a negative either. Was going to lunch with a woman who was mixed up with the FBI and on a mission to find a doctor caught up in a cult such a good idea though? Considering he had surfaced from his sweat soaked coma with the decision to head back home, the answer wasn’t a simple one.

  Awash between second guesses, nervous anticipation and with Bobbie’s cage held firmly in hand he traversed the now familiar route to the lobby and out into the relentlessly thick outside air. The rain was still heavy and sky dark with no signs of breaking any time soon. Candice pulled up beside him in a late model Audi and watched with curiosity as he loaded Bobbie onto the back seat and then joined her in the front.

  “I used to put Kiki back there when we went to the vet,” Candice commented before changing the subject. “I know a place. It’s not too far and it’s usually pretty quiet. You and your buddy there should like it.”

  The Audi crept out into the storm with wiper blades springing to life. There was little to see beyond the windows and the thunderous echo of the heavens pelting against the car left the conversation mute, so John watched the rain patterns against the glass as Candice guided them to their destination and wondered what sort of storms were waiting for him at home.

  Eventually they came to a stop along a quiet boulevard where small shop fronts faced a swirling ocean decorated with white caps that surged along rain soaked sand. John sucked in the humid air as for a second his senses became disorientated, a momentary reminder that stemmed from being in a new and strange place in a strange car with a strange woman, but it passed soon enough. Candice noticed the anxiety on his face but didn’t mention it.

  “No umbrella I’m afraid,” she said with a slight grin, “so we’ll have to make a run for it.”

  Before he could say anything she jumped out of her seat into the rain and quickly opened the rear door, grabbed Bobbie’s carrier and jogged across the road. John had no choice but to do his best to follow and was surprised at how warm the water was that slapped into his face. Mercifully the traffic was nonexistent for the moment and when he reached the other side he saw that Candice had already stepped into a small Cuban styled café, so wiped the water from his eyes and pushed his way through the door.

  The first thing he noticed was the lack of light, with the dark shadows of the room broken only by a tall lamp resting against the far wall. The second thing he noticed was that she had already taken a seat at one of the faded wood tables by the window with Bobbie out of the carrier and sitting in her lap. As his eyes adjusted he could just make out countless signed black and white photo portraits framed on the walls, many with cracked glass and disjointed frames. It was as if ghosts from a silent era had come together to watch over the tables, though for the moment there wouldn’t be much to entertain them considering they were the only customers in the place.

  He eased onto the weathered plastic chair and suddenly realised he didn’t mind the lack of light so much. In a way it seemed a fitting compliment to the rolling storm display beyond the shop front window.

  “Not quite as fancy as your hotel,” Candice offered, “but this time of the day it’s always quiet, and if you look straight out over the ocean you can’t see any of the high rises. And I do love a good storm…”

  “Now that you mention so do I,” John agreed. “Reminds me of home.”

  “You live near the water back home?”

  “You could say that.”

  Candice leaned back in her chair and peered out through the window.

  “I nearly flew out to Australia once, a few years ago now. I had the chance to do some research work at one of your universities, a year’s worth at least. I was so damn excited.” She smiled softly to herself and continued to massage Bobbie’s neck. “All I could think about was feeding some kangaroos and camping out bush, maybe even pick up an old van at the end of the job and hit the road for a few weeks.”

  “So what happened?” John asked.

  “Well, I guess you could say I was a victim of a cliché.”

  “And which one would that be?”

  “That would be the one that says life is what happens while you’re making plans.”

  John studied her face in an attempt to understand the underlying sadness that seemed to accompany her words and pulled at the edges of her eyes, while reinforcing the natural beauty that was beginning to draw in his senses.

  “Sometimes I think life is all about changing plans whether good or bad or if we like it or not,” he offered. “Sure seems to be the way things work lately.”

  A small statured lady with grey speckled hair who could have been sixty years old or a hundred wearing a faded red apron emerged from the shadows and approached their table. There was instant recognition as she reached out and squeezed Candice’s shoulder.

  “Always you here by yourself,” the old lady declared with a thick accent, “and today you bring cat and man. I wasn’t even sure it was you!”

  “It’s me alright Maria,” Candice replied.

  “This storm chase away everyone. Until you come I’ve had no customers, was ready to close the door. Should I switch the coffee machine back on?”

  “Sure, that would be great.”

  Maria peeked through the window at the black daunting clouds and then scurried back behind the counter, distant thunder rumbling somewhere over the ocean. For several moments Candice appeared lost in her own thoughts but eventually looked up from the table, the scars on her cheek seemingly darker in the barely lit room

  “I think you might be right,” she announced suddenly, “when you said life forces us to make changes, regardless of whether those changes are good or bad. By the sound of things we’ve both had to make some changes, and now here we are, ready to sip coffee and watch a storm while I convince you to change the decision you seem to have made.”

  John experienced a small hint of guilt of having to disappoint her and wished things hadn’t become so complicated so damn quickly. Mere minutes had ticked by and yet already he found himself captivated by her presence. Maybe it was the strange mixture of confidence and vulnerability, or perhaps the way her eyes lit up every time she looked down to her lap at Bobbie, but there was no denying there was something about her that left his pulse running faster than normal.

  “I’m flattered you think I’m worth convincing,” he admitted, “really I am, but I’ve got a bit of a mess back home waiting for me that’s only going to get worse the longer I leave it. I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone else to deliver the letter to the doctor, assuming he’s there of course.”

  “No,” Candice shook her head. “That was the final seminar. Even if we could find someone willing to try they won’t be able to get in on the ground level. Unfortunately that window’s been closed, and time’s running out. You managed to get an invite, and that means the chance to get in a little deeper. That�
�s why we need you John. Besides, there’s a good chance that the next time round you’ll find who you’re looking for which means you’ll be home in a few days anyway.”

  “Sure, there’s a chance I guess. Then again things could be a whole lot more difficult thanks to the shooting.”

  “But that’s a chance that needs to be taken, because the clock’s ticking and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”

  John could feel the urgency spilling across the table but, considering he was pretty much still in the dark when it came to her motivation for the finding the missing doctor, it was difficult to share the emotion, and the more he thought about it the clearer it became that since he had landed in the city nothing much had really made any sense.

  A flash of lightening sent the room brilliant white for a quick heartbeat and Maria returned to their table with the coffees, a look of concern pulling tight the soft lines across her face. By the way her eyes kept flicking to the window it was obvious the storm was starting to make her uneasy.

  “Don’t worry Maria,” Candice said, “summer in Miami always puts on a show.”

  “A storm is good for many things,” Maria replied with arms crossed against her chest. “The sky though, I don’t like today. There’s something wrong with it.” She forced a smile but kept her arms held tight. “I have fresh Cuban chicken, cooked this morning. Shall I warm some up?”

  “That sounds delicious,” Candice accepted.

  John waited until Maria had stepped back behind the counter and leaned forward on the table. A car raced by the window, water spraying from the back tyres to whip about in the gusting wind.

  “I don’t suppose you feel like telling me why it’s so important to deliver a letter to your doctor friend?” he asked. “Ever since I got off the plane it’s like I’m surrounded with Chinese whispers and I’m supposed to be able to work out what’s being said. Thing is, as far as jobs go I don’t see what I can do when none of the whispers make any sense. Don’t get me wrong, people come to me when they want to find someone who’s slipped off the radar because usually I’ve got a good idea of which rocks to look under, but diving into a cult in a strange city isn’t exactly my area of expertise.”

  “Okay,” Candice slowly nodded. “Obviously you know I’m a doctor, but do you know what it is I actually do?’

  “Now that you mention it, that was going to be my next question.”

  “Well I guess I should end the suspense then,” she grinned. “I’m a neuroscientist, as is Doctor Hendrix. He’s been at it a lot longer than me, and was pretty prominent for his work in neural networking and mapping, the kind of guy that published an article and had the medical community ready to lap it up. When it came to the brain, if he had something to say you could sure as shit bet it would be important. If you had have told me a year or so ago that I’d be working with him I would have laughed in your face. What is it they say? Careful what you wish for.”

  “So you’re telling me he’s a smart guy that knew how to impress the right people,” John mused, “so how does someone like that wind up hidden in a cult with you and the FBI on the hunt? I don’t know much about your world, but it’s hard to imagine a neuroscientist falling for silly tricks or becoming dangerous in some way.”

  “Hendrix hasn’t got a dangerous bone in his body,” Candice replied quickly before drawing a long breath, “but unfortunately the same can’t be said for the information he has.”

  “Information?”

  “Let’s just say he needs to be real careful about what he tells to whoever his new friends are because we don’t even know if the information is right yet, and just a couple of whispers is all it would take to throw this city, no, this whole fucking country, into chaos.”

  “If it’s that important why don’t you just get the cops to kick down the doors and bring him in?” John asked. “Seems to me like it would make things a whole lot easier.”

  “If it was that easy we would’ve tried already, believe me. Hell, you’ve seen what we’re up against. This damn cult, it’s not like it’s a bunch of pot smoking hippies trying to live off the land and dance under the moon. It’s a sophisticated operation with more money behind it than most government departments. Right now we’re not sure what he has or hasn’t said, but if we try muscling our way in then you can be fucking certain he’ll let the cat out of the bag before we get to him, and that will be real bad.”

  “And you think he’s gonna listen to some Aussie fresh off a plane who doesn’t even know how to tip right?”

  “No,” Candice shook her head, “I don’t. If he reads that letter though, there’s at least a sliver of hope that he’ll come to his senses and let me talk with him.”

  “Candice,” John said slowly but firmly, “just what the hell does this guy know that’s so damn important?”

  Candice peered out through the window and bit down on her bottom lip as slender fingers traced the edges of her scars. The way she watched the rolling storm clouds, child like wonder hidden deep in her eyes, left John wishing they were sharing a table under different circumstances. He’d take the moment as it was though, because with every flash of lightening and gust of wind he found her presence growing more intoxicating.

  “Here’s the thing John.” She turned from the window and demanded his attention with a solemn gaze. “I could tell you what Hendrix knows, but then you’d think I’m fucking crazy and leave me sitting here waiting for chicken on my own, and even though we hardly know each other the truth is I like sitting here with you and I don’t want it to end sooner than it has to. If I don’t say anything though you’ll stick with your decision and jump on the next flight home, and if that happens all that’s left is damage control. As far as choices go, neither one of them is looking too good.”

  “If it helps any,” John offered, “I’m about three steps from the edge of insanity on the best of days so there’s not much chance of making me think you’re crazy.”

  Candice’s worry of facing a chicken dish alone quickly faded as Maria presented them with plates of food then used her hand to point out a cross against her chest as she stared out the window. John could plainly see fear in her eyes and wondered what could possibly be the source. Surely a simple case of bad weather wasn’t a reason to act so strange? If there was something else out there, he couldn’t see it.

  “If you ask me,” he continued once she had stepped away, “it’s Maria there that we should probably worry about.”

  Candice laughed and instantly brought her hand to her mouth, conscious of her echo in the room.

  “She’s acting a little strange today, I’ll give you that.” With hunger driven hands she began slicing into the chicken. “So you used to be a cop huh? How did you end up in the world of crime fighting?”

  John was tempted to tell her the same fabled story he told most people when the question bubbled to the surface, but there was something inside him that told him not to. Maybe it was the remnants of her smile that still lingered or the way she looked at him with a child like expectance, but whatever it was left him with a distinct sway to tell the truth.

  “I don’t know if you can call it crime fighting,” he shrugged, “I’d say mopping gutters would be closer to the reality.” He took a bite and was surprised at the rich explosion of flavour. “When I was a kid I wanted to be a pilot believe it or not, and the plan was to get my own chopper and start a charting company taking rich tourists for joy rides. Didn’t quite pan out though.”

  “Wait a minute, are you saying you can fly a helicopter?”

  “I’m not overly confident calling myself a pilot but I guess I’m okay.”

  “So is that what you did while you were in the force back in Australia, pilot choppers?”

  “No,” John shook his head, “the pilot stuff I did on the side. When I was a cop my feet were always on the ground.”

  “Maybe the uniform was your real calling then.”

  “Actually,” he explained, “I hated cops growing up and I n
ever would’ve gone near the uniform but a junkie and his girlfriend decided to change all that.” He began to use his fork to move pieces of chicken around the plate, suddenly less interested in the taste. “My mum and dad, they weren’t very well off while I grew up but they both worked hard and always made sure I had what I needed, even if it meant they went without. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters so mum was pretty much my best friend. As for her and dad, they loved each other more than any couple I’ve ever known. They lived and breathed for each other and the only time I can ever remember them fighting was the night dad got sick and wouldn’t let mum drive him to the hospital. I’ll never forget it because eventually he listened to her and when they left there was a trail along the floor to the front door where he’d been coughing blood.”

  “Jesus Christ, that must have been horrible.”

  “It scared the shit out of me at the time,” John admitted, “but he was back home after a couple of days. Anyway, mum worked at a pharmacy just outside the city and had to cover a shift one night. I was fourteen, just a few weeks away from my birthday, and was helping dad fix some of the tiles in the bathroom when we got the call.” He clenched the metal of the fork between his fingers. “There was a guy that came into the pharmacy with his girlfriend and when they got to the counter he pulled out a gun, threw a bag at mum and told her to fill it with cash and pills. Thing is, this scumbag’s girlfriend had been tweaking for days and was already jumping out of her skin, so when a customer pushed through the door and saw what has happening she started screaming that people were outside ready to take them out. The junkie with the gun went into meltdown and when mum stepped back he must’ve figured she was getting ready to hit an alarm or something because he panicked and pulled the trigger. The bullet put a hole in her chest and left her dying on the floor, and that was that. Mum was gone.”

 

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