by Tara Ellis
“I say we definitely drive then,” Nate interjects as we collect our bags. “There’s been enough fighting lately.”
“Speaking of fighting,” Missy says, hooking her arm through mine as we walk out to the garage. “I know we had to calm Dad down and all first, but I think you need to tell us what that sleepwalking was all about.”
Missy and I sit on the back bench seat, Chris taking the helm again. I’m fine with that, because I’m still a bit shaken and don’t want to drive. My mind is clear, but it’s unnerving. This last dream seems more like an actual experience. I can still taste the jungle.
Kyle and Nate both turn in the middle chairs to study me as I relate the whole experience. I do my best to get across how intense and real it was. “My name was Nator,” I tell them, not even realizing I knew that until I said it. “I can still see bits and pieces of his memories, but not nearly as vividly as when I was in the dream. He’s thousands of years old, at least five or six. I feel like I’ve read a book about him and can only remember some of it. Does that make sense?”
They all seem to think about it for a minute and then slowly nod. I can’t see Chris’s face, of course, only the back of his head. I feel horrible for hurting him. It’s scary to think that I’m capable of that, and apparently unable to control it while sleeping. We’ll have to come up with a plan to have someone watch me when I go to sleep. I sigh, wondering what more could happen to complicate things.
“Turn left at this next stop sign and then right at the second one. His house is about a block after that. It’s a big blue two-story on the right side.” Missy turns back to me and puts an arm around my shoulders. “Don’t worry, Alex. We’re here for you. I’m sure this all has a point to it and we’ll figure it out. There’s a reason you’re having these dreams. Maybe this Nator guy was important to the Nephilim and his memories are going to help us figure out a way to stop them when they come back.”
“Maybe. Or it could just be that I’m going crazy.” I’m so grateful for her attitude. She’s always been a positive person and even now, can manage to put a good spin on things. “Just make sure to lock me up or something next time I decide to take a nap.” Laughing, she hugs me and then shouts out to Chris that he’s in front of Mr. Harris’s house.
“What did you say the name of the ship was?” Kyle asks me as we pull down the long driveway. I cringe at the question, hoping that no one would have picked up on it.
“Nibiru,” I say quietly. He stares at me for a minute, trying to figure out if I’m serious. “I know what you’re going to say,” I tell him. “But I swear, that’s what it was. Maybe the Aztecs or some other race encountered them and that’s where the whole conspiracy theory or the planet X thing came from.”
“What conspiracy theory?” Missy asks. Kyle and I look at her, surprised she hadn’t heard about it over the past couple years.
Chris turns in his seat to join the conversation, having parked in front of the house. “Actually, the theory about the planet crashing into earth is a new one. Some crazy lady prophesized about that back in the 90s, correlating it with the Aztec calendar. But the origins of the word date back to Sumerian times and some believe correlate with the Bible.”
“How in the world do you know all this crap?” Nate asks, never liking to be outsmarted.
“He studied some of this stuff at a church class,” I explain. “So let’s forget about the conspiracy and focus on the ancient text. What did it say about Nibiru?”
“It was a term from the Akkadian language, so about 1,500 BC or roughly 3,500 years ago. It was basically a Babylonian astronomy term and among other things, is the name of a star. It appeared in a bunch of Sumerian and Babylonian myths. Some have compared it to a passage in Revelations that talks about a star named wormwood crashing into the planet.”
We’re all silent for a moment as we digest this. I had no idea about the origins of the word. That it, like the Nephilim, has roots in both Sumerian and Biblical stories are eerie. I’m not sure how to feel about it.
“It would make sense that the people back then would think it was a star if they saw a huge, shiny ship come into the sky,” Nate finally says.
“And that they might then call the people falling from the sky, ‘fallen angels’. Especially if they are all very tall, muscular, and attractive.” Chris adds. Those hairs are standing on my neck again, and I know that the guys are right.
A sudden rapping on the side of the SUV makes us all jump and Missy actually screams. It breaks the spell however and Chris opens his door, stepping out and offering a hand to shake with Mr. Harris.
Missy quickly follows him and when the older man recognizes her, he warms up to us immediately. “Missy!” he exclaims. “What are you doing here, and who are your friends?”
After making the introductions, she explains that we came from Western Washington and are trying to reach family members east of here. I silently applaud her for not giving too much information. We can’t be too careful.
“Well, I sure wish I could help you. I really do. But you see, I’ve only got a few gallons of diesel left for my tractor and I’m going to need that to try to get some of my fields farmed this summer. Not that diesel would help you anyway,” he observes, nodding at the Tahoe. “I’m afraid that I don’t have any gasoline left. I sold almost all of it at the store by the second week, and the rest that I hoarded for us, I blew through quickly. And don’t tell the wife, but I gave some of it away to my friends who needed it more than we did.”
“Do you know of anyone else who might still have some?” Chris asks, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.
Rubbing at his chin and looking towards the sky for answers, Mr. Harris contemplates the options. “Well, there is Gary. No, never mind. I saw him walking to town yesterday. Perhaps … no, he wouldn’t give it to you even if he did. What about – yeah! Maybe, Pete. He seemed to be well off last time I talked to him. Problem is he’s all the way north of town. It’s a good fifteen miles each way, and I’m not sure if he even has any. He doesn’t have a workin’ phone as he only has a cell phone. I kept telling people not to get rid of their landline, but they wouldn’t listen!”
He reminds me so much of my Grandpa Fisher that I wish we could stay just to listen to him talk some more. I suddenly miss my grandparents in Nebraska and pray that they are both doing okay. Hopefully, someday soon we can see them again.
“I don’t think we should chance it,” Nate says to Chris. “We might barely have enough as it is, but if we use up two gallons to go there and back and don’t get any more gas, then we may not make it.”
Nodding, Chris agrees. We all say goodbye to the kind, old farmer and load back up in the Tahoe. His wife comes to the door of their home as we back out and I regret not getting to meet her. Somehow, I’m certain she would be a lot like my Grandma Fisher.
Pulling back out onto the street, Chris stops. “I saw what looked like a library on the way here,” he says to Missy. “Do you think it’s open?”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s open. We’ve taken Natalie there several times to get books and movies.”
“Good. You all okay with stopping there for a few minutes? I would like to look at some other maps and maybe see if we can find out anything about the lab in Montana.” We all agree it’s a good idea. It’s not even 6:30 yet, so we’ve got plenty of time before we plan on leaving.
Still feeling awfully guilty, I move forward and climb up into the front seat. Chris grins at me as I scoot close to him and give him a pleading look. “Please forgive me?” I ask, reaching out to gently touch the scrape over his prominent cheekbone.
Taking my hand, he looks at me so intensely that I’m suddenly afraid he might be mad. “I’ll do whatever I have to, to keep you safe, Alex. Don’t ever feel like you have to apologize for it.”
Not knowing what to say, I lean forward impulsively and kiss him on the lower edge of his jaw, where it’s free from injury. This brings a smile back to his handsome face, and I
smile too.
An audible sigh from the back of the SUV causes us all to turn and look at Missy. She is grinning at us like the Cheshire cat, literally bouncing in her seat. Kyle takes advantage of the situation and moves to sit next to her. “Aren’t they cute?” he asks her.
Rolling his eyes, Nate turns away from them and shakes his head at us. “Can we try and stay focused?” he complains.
The library is located about halfway to Missy’s house, and is indeed open. There are quite a few people inside and Missy spends some time talking with several of them while we search for books the old fashioned way. At first I’m nervous about my eyes, but it turns out to be very bright inside and, if anyone finds their color odd, they don’t act like it.
While we don’t come up with anything interesting about genetic memories, Chris finds a good road atlas for Montana and Nate hits the jackpot with a CDC book that lists all the American-based labs. Missy checks them out for us and we quickly head back to the house. It’s just after seven, barely an hour since we left, but we’re all feeling anxious. We don’t like to be away from our loved ones for so long.
As we round the final corner, two blocks away from the house, Jacob suddenly jumps out from behind some trees. With Baxter at his he side, he runs towards us, waving his arms and yelling at us to stop. I see immediately that he’s been crying and my heart starts to gallop in my chest. The bitter taste of copper enters my mouth that I associate with fear and I know that something is horribly wrong.
Throwing our doors open before the vehicle even stops, I jump out onto the sidewalk and catch Jacob up in my arms.
“They took them!” he sobs, almost hysterical. “The Mudameere took them all!”
TWENTY TWO
Chris yells at all of us to get back into the SUV, and I pull Jake in with me. Chris quickly turns us around and we head away from the neighborhood. Baxter is huddled next to Jake quivering, also clearly shaken.
“What happened?” Missy practically screams. “Where is Natalie? Where are my Mom and Dad?” She has come to kneel in front of Jacob, pleading with him. I understand her behavior because I feel the same way about my Mom. But if we push Jake too hard, he will just shut down. I know my brother.
Very gently, I pull Missy down to the floor with me. “Breathe,” I whisper to her. She turns to look at me, the panic making her eyes huge and intense. “We’ll find them,” I say with confidence. “But we need to give Jake some space, okay?”
Closing her eyes, Missy tries to slow her breathing and rocks back onto her heels, away from Jacob. Baxter groans and rests his head in her lap, sensing that she needs the extra comforting. Kyle moves to the bench seat behind us and puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder, in a show of support.
Sitting cross-legged, I gather my little brother into a familiar embrace. I feel guilty now for not paying more attention to him these past couple of days. We’ve always been close, especially since Dad died. We had to rely mostly on each other for a while when Mom went through her depression. After The Shining, we were forced to work together again and his insight was invaluable. Even though he’s just ten years old, his life experience is much more and I tend to forget that. He had to have been terrified after I was kidnapped, not knowing what was happening to me. Now he’s got to go through it again with Mom. We lost her once. I refuse to lose her to this damn virus again.
“We’ll get her back, Jake,” I finally say to him, my mouth buried in the thick black hair on the top of his head. “But I’m going to need your help. I need you to tell us everything that you saw and heard.”
Sensing our motion has stopped, I glance up to see that we are in the back of the library parking lot. Chris is turned in his seat, an expression of both concern and anger clouding his face. I recognize immediately that he’s already blaming himself for leaving his mom. He’s the kind of guy who takes responsibility for everything, even when he shouldn’t.
Nate is still seated in the middle chair, next to us. He seems a bit lost, unsure of how he can help. As someone who always likes to feel like they are in control of things, I suspect that this sudden change in our situation is hard on him too.
I give Jacob a couple more minutes, and then shift him in my lap so that I can see his face. I’m relieved to find that he has stopped crying and also has his eyes open, obviously trying to recall what happened. I was afraid he would be squeezing his eyes shut against reality and trying to escape within himself, like he did at first when Dad died. Perhaps the past couple of months have forced him to develop new coping skills. The whole adapt or die thing.
“Baxter was whining and pacing at the door acting weird, so Mom asked me to take him across the street to the park and let him run around,” he begins without any prompting. I turn to Baxter for confirmation and he nods slowly at me, whimpering. Maybe part of his special mix of normal canine DNA and his mutations enhances his instincts for danger. Come to think of it, he was the first to notice a change in Mom during The Shining. I realize now that he was trying to warm me from the beginning of it. I’ll definitely have to start paying more attention to him.
Chris clears his throat to get my attention and when he raises his eyebrows at me, it’s obvious that he saw the exchange between Baxter and me. Not much gets past him. I planned on telling him about the file, I just haven’t had a chance to yet. I’m not sure why, but I’m not ready to share it with anyone besides Chris. It almost feels like an invasion of privacy, and before I share it with the others, I need to talk to Baxter about it and make sure it’s okay.
Later, I mouth and shift my attention back to Jacob. “So what happened after you went to the park?” I ask gently.
“Well, we ran around for a while, and whenever I tried to go back, Baxter would bark at me and then run away, like we were playing tag. I figured he just wanted to stay longer so we ended up on the other end near the playground and some good climbing trees.” Looking down at his hands, he gets very quiet. “I shouldn’t have stayed so long.”
“Jacob,” I say, lifting his chin up so his face is even with mine. “I think Baxter kept you there on purpose because he knew they were coming. If you had gone back, then you would be gone, too. We wouldn’t even know what happened.”
This appears to lighten his mood just a bit, and he continues with more surety. “I saw the black trucks coming because they were going so fast. There were two of them, and one of those military transport things with the canvas on the back of it, except it was painted black. It had a painting on the side; a gold circle with an M on it and something else that I couldn’t read.”
“Heritage,” I add, my fears confirmed. “You’re right Jake, it was the Mudameere. That’s the logo they all had on their uniforms. I forgot to tell you guys about it.”
“Well, they screeched into Missy’s driveway and I didn’t know what to do! I was still up in a tree, so they didn’t see me. A bunch of guys with rifles jumped out and ran up to the house. Then Baxter and I ran along the far side of the park until we were at the end of the block. I crossed the street after they all went inside and then into the neighbor’s backyard. We ran through the yards until we were next door to Missy’s. I found a big gap in the fence that I could spy through. The French doors were both still wide open so I could see everyone down on their knees in the family room and hear the guys yelling at them.”
His voice raises in pitch as he recalls the scene and tears start to make their way back down his cheeks. Rubbing his back, I try to control my own emotions. Thinking of him running towards the danger instead of away is terrifying. “It’s okay, Jake,” I reassure him. “You’re doing great. I can’t believe you were that brave. Dad would be so proud of you, bud.”
At the mention of Dad, he seems to straighten a little. Wiping at the tears, he continues his story. “One guy kept yelling the same thing: ‘where’s the girl! Where’s the girl!’ But no one would answer and he was getting really mad. Finally, Lisa said that if they were talking about Missy, she had unfortunately died during The
Shining. One of the guys slapped her.” Jake turns to look at Chris when he says this. The pure hate on Chris’s face is scary.
“I’m sorry, Chris,” Jake almost whispers. “She was really tough though. Didn’t fall or cry out or anything. I think she almost convinced them.”
“Did they say anything else?” I ask, not wanting to dwell on Chris’s mom. “Any mention of where they were going?”
Jake puckers his lips, thinking. “Not much happened after that,” he finally says. “They asked a few more questions about you and Chris. I don’t think they know Nate and Kyle are with us. No one would answer, so the older guy ordered everyone handcuffed. He said he would get his answers soon enough. I don’t remember them saying anything else. They pretty much left then.”
My anxiety increases a bit more at the implication that they would be infected. As Shiners, there would be no secrets. But which facility would they take them to?
“Wait!” Jake yells. “The older guy did say something into his radio. He stepped out onto the patio and held it out in front of him like he was checking for a better signal. It scared the crap out of me, ‘cause I thought he was going to see me. But anyway, he said: ‘RML, RML. This is team 1 RECON. Do you copy?’ There was some squelch that I couldn’t hear very well, but I think they said: ‘This is RML’. Then the guy told RML that they were in possession of part of the package and would be en route to their location, so get prepared.”
Prepared. The fish I ate a couple hours ago is threatening to come back up. It’s all I can do to stop myself from pushing Jake for more. I can feel panic creeping in and I’m not sure what to do now.